Counter-Measures

by W. Michael Gear

  "What about Ily's other Internal Security Directors?" Rysta asked. "She still has a lot of powerful people in positions of authority. How many could still cover for her the way Rill did on Terguz?"

  Chrysla indicated the holo. "Where would you suggest, Commander? Etaria? It's an open port, but Shiksta's people would notice her entering orbit and act no matter what the Director of Internal Security ordered. Vermilion? Dion Axel's people are keeping an eye on it. Ily definitely wouldn't space for Phillipia, not with the Companions in orbit there. "

  ' 'You can't forget Sassan space," Rysta countered. "What about Nesios, Antillies, Formosa, or even Imperial Sassa itself ? "

  Chrysla clasped her hands, studying the holo map. "I think she'll stay in territory she knows. The Sassans are still going to be suspicious of Regans, and Than Jakre has what's

  left of the Sassan fleet spread over most of his worlds. What do each of you think? You know her. Would she leap into the unknown? Or is she the kind who always plans four steps ahead?"

  "She's a planner, all right, " Rysta offered. "I don't think she uses the toilet without thinking it through four or five times-and even then only if she can gain some sort of advantage from defecating at precisely that instant.

  If not, she'll wait for a more auspicious moment. "

  Skyla studied the holo thoughtfully. "I have to agree with Rysta. Ily never takes a breath without considering every aspect and how she can maximize her goals. "

  "What about Arta Fera? Is she the same?" Rysta caught the undercurrent in Chrysla's voice. Skyla's only reaction came in the form of a faint squint.

  "She's different. Ily is a master strategist, while Arta is extraordinarily adept as a field tactician. I suppose that's what makes them such a good team.

  Ily spins the plans and Arta makes them work. In the selection of a final destination, Arta will go wherever Ily decides. "

  Rysta stepped over to the holo, where the stars gleamed peacefully despite the single red thread of light marking Ily's course toward Riparious. "Something bothers me."

  "What?" Lyma asked, her attention on the map.

  Rysta stroked her jaw for a moment, massaging her dry skin as she sought to understand the muffled message prodding her intuition. "It's just that . . . I mean . . . Well, she can't win. No, let me rephrase that. Think of it this way: Staffa knocked the blocks out from under her foundation when he hit Rega.

  Ily is a relic of the old days-of Tybalt's Rega. Now everything has changed, and the Empire can't come back. Not in the form of Imperial Rega, anyway."

  Rysta raised a finger. "So let's rethink this entire problem. Ily's not stupid. She Rotted well knows that she can't recover her power. She knows that she's going to be hunted inexorably, and that she will be caught eventually. "

  "Unless she wants to simply vanish into anonymity and become a factory worker somewhere-or hire out as unskilled labor on a farm in some backwater like Targa, Chrysla suggested.

  "Not our Ily," Lyma growled as she rubbed the palms of her hands together. The muscles in her shoulders bunched and rolled in time to the action.

  "Exactly," Rysta told them. "Not our Ily. I don't think it's in her nature to declare anonymity anymore than it's in mine to become an Etarian Priestess."

  "So what would she be after?" Chrysla wondered. "What would motivate her now that any chance of becoming Empress is denied her?"

  "Determine that," Rysta muttered sourly, "and you'll know where to go looking for Ily.

  Nyklos lay flat on his back on the compact bunk. The room they'd placed him in didn't offer much relief-only four white walls, a dispenser, the comm terminal to his right, and the medical stim unit that encased what was left of his leg.

  Alone, immobile, Nyklos had only his thoughts for company. Those and the memories. At the moment, he was awash with the knowledge that life meant injustice.

  When he looked back, trying to remember his parents, the only memory he could conjure was of war, death, and flesh-numbing terror. Through that came the scream as his mother flopped on the floor before him, bright red blood jetting from her blasted shoulder. Despite his screams, she'd never looked his way, dying with a glazed disbelief in her eyes.

  His father's death had happened outside. A terror-crazed Nyklos had fled past the headless body on his desperate break for the streets-and eventual capture.

  Life changed after Bruen bought him from the slave ring. Only then, in those halcyon days of challenge and direction, had he found a centering point in Seddi doctrine, in the lofty goals of freeing humanity from an age of terror.

  He had dedicated himself to justice-and to the destruction of Staffa kar Therma.

  He'd recognized Skyla Lyma by sheer, blind luck that day when she'd stepped from the shuttle terminal in Etarus. Tall, and she'd been dressed in a gauzy white gown. He'd stopped to admire such an ethereal beauty. The startling blue eyes' and faint scar had triggered his recognition. Only when he followed and she changed costume did he know for sure that he'd located the Wing Commander of the Companions.

  She was so beautiful. Daring, dashing, he'd accosted her in her poor-woman's garb as she walked the street. And when he looked into those incredible eyes, he'd been smitten harder.

  Nyklos ran his tongue over the lower right third molar. He'd failed that time, too. The tooth which should have killed him hadn't.

  Of course it failed . . . just like the rest of my life. A woman's beauty had never affected him the way Skyla's did. In the days spent as her prisoner, he'd fallen for her with all of his heart and soul. Nyklos sighed miserably.

  She'd never taken him seriously, believing until the end that his advances were only those of a devious man interested in manipulating his captor.

  The worst blow, however, was the order not to assassinate the Lord Commander.

  Nyklos had waited, knowing in the depths of his soul that Staffa's true nature would show itself again and, at that moment, he would strike. Meanwhile, he'd risen to second in command under Kaylla Dawn. For Kaylla, he'd developed a deep and abiding respect, aware that her tragedies outweighed his own. Her cool, organized administration of the Order in its days of upheaval and relocation to Targa had reassured Nyklos that Seddi values hadn't been yet another of the Star Butcher's victims.

  How could he stand to face her again? To see the pain his betrayal had caused?

  His courage had held until he saw the truth, and his damnation, in her stricken eyes.

  The abyss loomed before him, the final dissolution of the soul would come on Itreata in the Star Butcher's lair. Trying to place it all in perspective, Nyklos found so very few victories-and those were nothing more than the setup for total failure.

  He, who had dedicated his life to the salvation of humanity, had ended up a prisoner on the Star Butcher's ship. Shame his only legacy.

  The memories of his dead parents, and of the countless other victims, all less lucky than Nyklos, plagued him. All those dead, suffering billions cried out for justice-and God remained aloof.

  Nyklos closed his eyes, depression continuing to spread.

  If God cared so little, and the quanta could act with such antipathy, what point was there? Existence in such a universe made a mockery of anything noble, pure, or virtuous.

  Had they forgotten the tooth? Or had Kaylla given him this last refuge from his failure?

  Nyklos cocked his jaw and glanced at the lines of text he'd composed on the comm screen. He felt the ceramic crack when he bit down. Surprisingly the drop of liquid ran fruity and light over the back of his tongue, not bitter-not like life. This justice, limited though it might be, would be sweet.

  As his vision blurred, the words wavered on the screen and faded. . . .

  YOU CAME IN FIRE, FLAME, AND PAIN. DEATH IS YOUR MEANS.

  TURN AFTER TURN, THE JUST SUFFERED DEFEAT.

  IN NIGHTMARES FILLED WITH YOUR HORRORS WE WILL YET MEET.

  MY EYELESS ROTTING CORPSE STALKS YOU THERE9

  YOU HEARTLESS MURDERER OF CHILDREN'S DREAM
S.

  "Nice to see the top of your head again," Arta greeted as Ily ducked through the hatch from the CV's bridge into the cramped galley area. Arta glanced meaningfully around her. "They definitely don't build these things for comfort."

  A recessed booth and table seated a maximum of five. Across from it, the dispenser system filled the wall, each food listed next to a button, then the food tray, and drink faucets, with the disposal chute beneath that. The entire place had been finished in brushed aluminum and silver siaIon.

  "Thank the Blessed Gods, they don't. If they did, you'd be back there on the Ashtan side, floating through space in the form of plasma and ash."

  Arta stretched her muscular body the way a hunting cat did after a nap. "I keep remembering Skyla's yacht. I want

  one like that one of these days. Fast-and comfortable. You off duty for a while?"

  "We're in null singularity now. The ship can watch itself. " Ily punched up a standard meal of meat, ripa, choklat bread, and stassa. As she set the tray on the duraplast table opposite Arta, she pulled out two data cubes from her pouch.

  Fera's shapely eyebrows went up.

  Ily ate with one hand and used the long fingernail on the index finger of the other to toy with the data cube, rocking it back and forth on the scuffed gray surface of the table. "Remember when I had that data broadcast from the Ministry? "

  "Just before you blew up the place. Yes, I remember." "This is one of the files I wanted. When I finally got my senses back after that knock on the head, I realized what we needed."

  "And we needed that?"

  Ily smiled as she chewed. "You bet. Staffa didn't take any half measures in the security system at Itreata. The finest minds in Free Space have worked on tightening that system. I've been there. With my expertise, I could feel the security in the very air. Lyma's interrogation confirmed what I suspected. A person can't get in unless they drop into the Itreatic system on the prescribed approach, dock where directed, and pass through the security checkpoints. Thereafter, they can't leave their designated area without passing other security checkpoints.

  "Everything is monitored. Air, water, people, even comm messages. All must pass through the bottlenecks. Part of the system is premised on defense. If an armed party, say a delegation from Rega, were in the diplomatic quarters, they couldn't storm the rest of the complex without beating their way through the defenses of a restricted area."

  "And that's why you had your chem-code and retinal pattern changed? So you can walk right in? Why would Diane de la Luna be allowed past their security?"

  "Because of who she's with." Ily washed a mouthful down with a swig of stassa.

  "I'm not the key figure here, you are. "

  "So you're finally going to tell me the details?"

  Ily shrugged. "The next stop is Itreata. If you get captured and drugged between here and there, I'm dead anyway. Yes, Arta, it's time for you to know the whole plan. And for that, you're going to have to study Skyla's answers to a certain group of questions."

  Arta crossed her arms and leaned back. "As Diane de la Luna's slave, I'm going to say the right things and get you into Itreata? "

  Ily leaned forward and steepled her hands as she smiled. "Not at all. I'm going in wearing your collar, Arta, figuratively anyway. I'll be posing as your servant. You see, to pass security you've got to have a clearance. And you've already got one. You've had one for over twenty-three years. They can check, cross-check, and double-check, running recombinant DNA, dermatoglyphics, HLA, retinal patterns, blood tests, or anything else. The results will be the same. You're cleared."

  "So what's the hitch with Skyla's testimony?"

  "You must memorize everything she says concerning your new identity. And there will still be a thousand risks, enough to sate even your appetite for excitement."

  Arta cocked her head, expression thoughtful. "All right. I know I'm supposed to find this Andray Sornsen and give him the orgasm of his life. Who am I doing this as?"

  Ily tapped her fingernail on the data cube. "Oh, you already know. You've been training for this role all of your life. "

  Arta's eyes widened, then she clapped her hands together and laughed. "Of course! Brilliant, Ily! And Skyla talks about her?"

  Ily shoved her empty tray to one side. "After years of interrogation, you develop an instinct for trivial things that might be important. I milked her for everything she knew. It's in the data cube."

  "And what about that second cube?" Arta pointed.

  Ily used her index finger to flick the Lyma data across the table. With lightning reflexes, Arta caught it.

  The second cube, Ily held between thumb and forefinger. "Another advantage gained from my interrogation of Skyla. Do you know how the Companions destroyed Myklene? Skyla took a team in, disguised as Vegans no less, and sabotaged the Myklenian comm system with a sophisticated virus. About ten years ago, we broke an extortion ring on

  Vermilion. A bright young woman within their organization designed comm viruses

  with which they could disable any, system, no matter how well safeguarded. A company was informed that their manufacturing facility was contaminated by the virus. For a lump sum of money, the counter program would be provided to kill the virus.

  "Of course, I kept a copy in the records. You never know when you might need something like this. " Ily sighed in mock weariness. "I think I'll need it the moment we can gain access to Andray Sornsen's comm."

  Arta pushed glossy auburn hair back with a slim hand. "Do you really think he's going to be such a dope?"

  Ily propped her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together to support her chin. "Absolutely. It's in the data cube, but you see, the reason there is a psychological department on Itreata is because Chrysla wanted one-and Andray Sornsen was Chrysla's professor. He confided to Skyla long, ago that he'd been hopelessly in love with Chrysla for years. And now, you're coming back to him, Chrysla Marie Attenasio!"

  "I should just have relieved him," Skyla insisted as she stared into her stassa. She sat opposite Lark in the small dining alcove aboard Rega One.

  Umbilicals had been attached to provide them with power and comm. Most of the galley had been refinished, the gaps in the mortise filled. More utilitarian knobs had been threaded on the screws controlling the dispenser. Besides repairing the wreckage Skyla had wrought, they'd scoured the radiation contaminated reactor room, cleaned up the smoke damage, and begun stripping ruined equipment which would have to be replaced.

  For the yacht, at least, the chase was over until they reached Itreata.

  "It's not your fault," Lark responded woodenly, attention centered on the tabletop with its newly inlaid sialon filigree. "You told him, Skyla. You gave him fair warning. It was more of a chance than Gyper Rill would have given him. "

  "Yeah, but if I'd just relieved him of command he'd still be there for you, Lark. "

  "He wasn't ever there for me." Lark wedged her face between her hands, fingers digging into her curly brown hair. "Let's face it. He wasn't a model father.

  He loved power and position. Not his family. Not me."

  'Lark, don't. " :

  ,Don't? Don't what? If I'd been thinking, I could have told you he'd fail. But I wasn't. I was totally involved with getting away. Carried away with how I finally had an opportunity to show him and Mother that I could do it on my own." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Do you suppose that's why I feel so miserable? That I didn't get the chance to show up dressed in armor? That I couldn't swagger in like a lordly Companion and stare disdainfully at them?"

  Skyla rolled her drinking bulb from side to side. "I don't know, Lark. It doesn't sound like you had a very good family. You haven't even mentioned your mother."

  "Mention how? She was a fixture, petite, pretty, the perfect hostess with the perfect smile in a perfect evening gown. Perfect, perfect, perfect." She sniffed hard. "And she never heard a word I said. From the time I was old enough to talk, all I got was that doll smile of hers and a 'That's nice, d
ear.'

  "And double Rot take my brother. His greatest goal in life was to step right into my father's shoes-and do the old man one better by conning a way into the palace. The news that Tybalt had been assassinated left him crushed. "

  Skyla made a face and watched the tendons slide in the back of her hand as she tapped her fingers on the tabletop. "At least you. had someone to grow up with besides whores and drunken Johns with drool on their lips and their fingers on your ass But I still should have done something different.

  A long silence passed between them, finally broken by Lark when she looked up and said, "It's not your fault, Skyla. Don't torture yourself over it. You gave me a chance ... and you gave him a chance. He made a mess of it. I can imagine that meeting. He got up and started telling them exactly how his new order would be. He'd be glad to allow them to do anything they wished to do so long as it was through his consent.

  "The first time someone stood up and disagreed, he slammed his fist on the podium and turned arrogant."

  "Then how did he manage this long? Even in Tybalt's government, people

  needed to use tact."

  "Not on Terguz. All my father needed was a head for numbers. Remember the revolt about ten years back? Father took his orders straight from the palace on Rega. He only needed to oversee revenue collection. Enforcement was left to Rill and his goons. Father, for all of his lauded status, was an Imperial bookkeeper, nothing more."

  "So where do you go from here? What do you want to do, Lark?"

  She tilted her head - "What do you mean?"

  "Do you want to go back? To Terguz? Or to someplace else? "

  Comprehension dawned. "Nothing's changed, Skyla. If anything, it's more important than ever that I stick it out. Ily and Arta are still out there. I want to be a Companion. More than anything.

  "Why? "

  Lark glanced away. "I don't know, I . Then the girl's jaw muscles bunched and she turned back to Skyla. "Because of my father. Yeah, that's why.