by Greg Curtis
“I was betrayed and attacked by this rusting bucket of bolts here. Attacked and nearly killed by the police. I've been lost in space for months with no hope of getting home. I'm unarmed. Then I find one shred of hope and in the process discover that I've got a shipload of criminals or rebels or something on board. And now it turns out that it's even worse than I’d realised. I've got a shipload of mutes instead. And I can't protect myself against a single one of you.”
“And don't imagine I believe a single word of your dark side fairy tale about the good mutes and the evil Navy. I may not be able to tell them anything because of the very faint possibility that there could be a grain of truth in it. But it seems highly unlikely. And if you think I'm going to take my ship into your people's space, you are sadly mistaken.”
“Here's what's actually going to happen,” Carm took back control of the conversation and the deal knowing he had to. One mistake and he could die in the next few seconds.
“You –” he turned to Kendra. “Are going to give the ship these algorithms so it can start converting coordinates and working out jumps. You're going to do it because while I promise you that I won't be hired and I won't be of a single atom of use to your sharding master. I also can't afford to reveal his secret because of what she said. Damn you all to the stars, but if she has the evidence, I can't and you both know that. So I will watch her botbrained holos. Meanwhile her people are going to continue an arrangement with your sharding master that he finds beneficial and without which his riches might vanish.”
“I'm guessing that his entire business empire just took a major hit when we jumped wild and he desperately wants it back. Del here is the only one who can make that happen, and she can't do a thing while she's stuck out here.”
“And you –” he turned to Del, “if and when these damned algorithms turn up, are going to provide me with coordinates for a minor world with no more than say a mining operation. Somewhere I can leave a message. It will not be a main world or a Navy base. There will be no ships waiting for us. No guns trained on us. When we arrive I'll leave another set of coordinates to a world only I know where you'll be able to survive for a while. And then I'm going to take you there. Drop the lot of you off and go home and try to pretend that this whole thing never happened.”
“In the meantime you will not attack me, you will not go near the holds and in fact it may be best if you stay in your cabin most of the time. You will be watched. And need I say the obvious. On this minor world we go to if I find myself surrounded by enemy spaceships, you know the price. I will do whatever I have to do to save my skin. Do I make myself utterly clear?”
He did judging from the angry silence in the bay, and the intense bloodless white of Del's cheeks. She believed him. She hated him but she believed him and that was what he needed as she would in turn persuade Kendra.
“Good. Then go. Do. Send these algorithms to the ship and we'll get under way. Send the holos too.”
“No baby!” Kendra spoke softly, perhaps trying to still convince Carm that she cared. “No algorithms. Not until you've seen the holos and passed a voice stress test. The ship will take us to the system jump point, and you can start watching them. And every day until then you can visit me and do your test.”
“Or –.”
Carm could almost imagine her smiling softly at him, whispering of her love. He knew she was baiting a trap.
“... you could repair me and I can watch you studying them and test you continually.”
“Fine!” It was Carm's turn to snap. “Have it your way! I'll visit and be tested. And I'll have the ship flash a holo to you of me watching the holos. But there is no way you are ever getting up again. Even if I had the resources and technical knowledge to fix you I wouldn't. This deal is for your master, not you. Understood?”
“Understood,” she sighed as if he'd said something sad, determined to keep trying to seduce him into making a mistake.
“I'll be in the galley.” With that Carm left, walking away, and a little surprised he didn't have one angry mute on top of him trying to tear his head off, trying to force him to let her people go. But even if Del didn't physically attack him, her words chased him into the corridor. Bitter words too. And he had no doubt that she would kill him if she got the chance. But he'd also had little doubt that his life would have been over the instant he brought her back to her people. They were mutes. Maybe there was a grain of truth in her words, and maybe the Navy was taking advantage of the situation, but they were mutes.
“You know, I used to think it was the Navy that were the true sharding bastards. But it seems the rot runs all the way through your people. You're all putrid through to the core!”
Carm didn't answer her. There was nothing he could say that would make things any easier. He just wanted all of them gone, and then he wanted to go home. So that was what he was going to do and he wasn't going to give them a choice. He had the upper hand and he was going to keep it.
But he did think he might stop off in the med bay on his way to the galley and pick up the surgical laser – just in case.
Chapter Twenty Two
Lake Tranquillity was well named. It was ancient, much older than New Andreas itself which was only a couple of hundred klicks away. It had been built as part of the original terraforming of Aquaria nearly a thousand years before, but for all that it looked like a pristine park.
The lake itself was a dozen klicks across, filled with fish while boats sailed above them. The lake surrounds were mostly a mix of ancient forests and little pocket reserves, with all the homes carefully concealed. Everything had to be constructed of timber and natural materials – no concrete or steel was allowed. There were no roads either, the only access being by flyer or floater – no exceptions.
Some people objected to the stringent conditions, saying that after three hundred years of settlement around it a little give and take was in order. But as far as Annalisse was concerned they could move. If they wanted entertainments, floater parks and restaurants there were other places they could live – like New Andreas itself. The few thousand people who called this lake home wanted peace. And for the moment she wanted it too. She needed that peace.
Annalisse counted herself extremely fortunate that her family had a house here, more so since she'd been injured and this was the best place possible to recover. Here could be found an abundance of fresh air and sunshine, as well as the lake to swim in and trails to hike. Most of all there was peace and quiet. Her badge was locked away in a drawer. Her private comm had been switched off. And she hadn't told anyone where she was. Nothing and nobody would bother her – except her parents.
Even after more than a month her mother was still fussing over her, while her father, a lawyer, often had a face filled with storm clouds whenever she told him of what had happened. The violation of civil liberties by the Navy was an anathema to him. That it was her civil liberties that had been so badly violated was a thousand times worse.
He didn't want to sue. There were others talking about it over the channels, and not just her fellow officers from the ALEB. Many wanted some form of compensation for what the Navy had done. But her father said that that wasn't enough. You couldn't compensate people for being drugged, interrogated and ultimately tortured to death. There was no magic number of credits that would make that right. He wanted them prosecuted, tried and thrown in jail. And the penalty for what they'd done was life imprisonment, under civilian law. In military law unfortunately it might not even be a crime.
The Navy for its part didn't care. They ignored people like him, tightening their grip on the world as they claimed it was a military emergency. Martial law was now in place whether it was called that or not. The civilian authorities had either been disbanded or pushed to one side. And most of the world had ground to a halt while they hunted down the mutes.
Space-ports had been shut down. No one was getting off-world without the Navy knowing about it. For the same reason global trans
port had been restricted. Homes were being raided. All that was needed was a rumour that someone might be a mute. Shops had been closed. Markets were closed too, along with all forms of public assembly. The universities had been shut down as well, but Annalisse doubted that had anything to do with the risk of bombing as was claimed. Students had been the first to protest and protests weren't allowed. In fact they were being met with overwhelming force.
The tenacity with which the Navy was going after the mutes was frightening. And no one even knew how many mutes there were. The Navy certainly weren't saying.
The Navy claimed it was necessary, that it was a military crisis. The mutes represented a threat to the entire Commonwealth. And they were here, hiding among the population, an entire underground of them preparing to spring a devastating attack on the Commonwealth. Thus far the Navy appeared to be winning the argument despite some unfortunate incidents as they called them. But when one mute had set off two thermo-kinetic devices killing scores of people it was hard to say they were wrong.
Soon though Annalisse knew, the protests would grow into riots, and when they did so too would the response increase. Nothing the mutes could possibly have planned could equal the harm the Commonwealth Navy was doing to its own people.
Little by little Aquaria was sliding into the grip of tyranny. And she suspected the rest of the Commonwealth would sooner or later be following it.
It appeared the Navy was desperate. Even knowing that there was a threat from the mutes, the Navy’s response was disproportionate. It was almost as if they were terrified of the mutes. As if they possessed some terrible power no one knew about. Her suspicion was that it was all to do with White. They had him and no doubt he was telling them everything he knew. She suspected he was actually just telling them whatever they wanted to hear. Whatever he thought would keep him alive. Plus White didn't care who else got hurt or killed. In fact the chances were that he was even trying to use them to further his own agenda whatever it was. He was clever and he couldn’t be underestimated.
That wasn't her job to worry about though. Her task that moment was to recover. If the Navy had done even half a job medically she would have recovered by now. But they'd done the bare minimum to keep her alive, and because of that her recuperation was going to take longer. The worst of the injuries had healed, but the arthritis and nerve pain was going to linger. The interrogation drugs they'd given her had made things worse.
Still it wasn't as if she had a job to return to. The ALEB had been stood down. Law and order was being maintained by warbots and regular soldiers with absolutely no training in crowd control or law enforcement but plenty of big guns. The results were completely predictable and completely unacceptable. She was grateful to be out of it.
She wasn't even sure she wanted to return to law enforcement when it was over. She had loved it once, the feeling that she was doing something worthwhile. Now she wondered if she'd been wasting her time. If the police couldn't even keep themselves safe, what was the point in pretending they could protect others? And when they could all simply be replaced by naval officers with warbots, it seemed that even the Commonwealth didn't have their back.
Reaching the little park near her home and collapsing onto a wooden bench, that notion was with her again. It was out of place in the midst of such beauty. There was sunshine and birdsong, yachts on the lake and even little furry creatures in the trees. Hyper squirrels from New Athenia for the most part. They were cute little animals and good for the environment as their waste was surprisingly nutrient rich. None of them knew anything of the trouble slowly engulfing the world. Everything was peaceful and relaxed – except for her. She was the one out of place.
But what else was she supposed to do? She'd been a detective for six years, had spent another twelve before that as an officer. She'd trained in law enforcement, forensics and criminology. It was all she knew. She couldn't just give up on twenty years of her life, junking it like a bad floater.
“Detective.”
Annalisse looked up, startled as a man stood in front of her. She was even more surprised when he unexpectedly sat down beside her. The park was empty, and there were other benches he could have taken. And he'd addressed her by her title. This meeting wasn't casual, and she instinctively didn't like it.
“Not at the moment.” She thought about getting up and going home, but she was tired and had only just got here.
“That'll change.” The man smiled at her. He had a good smile she thought, with a mouth full of good white teeth. His skin was good too, and he had a powerful physique. Cosmetic surgery perhaps? “And for the moment perhaps we can just enjoy the sunshine?”
“Look I don't know who you are or what you're selling, but I'm not buying. And I couldn't help you anyway.”
“Buying? Selling? Do I look like a trader?” The man's smile faded revealing something that might have been sadness. “And would a trader be seeking out the services of a police officer?”
“I'm not an officer at the moment.” That much she would have thought would have been obvious even if he hadn't seen the news channels. She walked like an old woman with every joint inflamed.
“You're always an officer. That was one thing my friend Anton always said. A police officer is always an officer.”
“Anton?” Despite the impulse she had to tell him that he should go and see his friend instead, she asked. The name was familiar.
“Anton De Vries.”
The man spoke his name easily, as if it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing. De Vries was a mute – maybe? And he was the reason that she and the others had been interrogated, tortured and killed. And they were friends? Or were they more than that? The wheels slowly turned while she considered it. If De Vries was a mute and there was a mute underground as the Navy claimed, was he friends with others like him? That understanding must have shown on her face.
“Yes Detective. I'm a mute.”
He said it so easily, like he was a salesman or a teacher. Here, right beside her, was a mute. A monster who could tear her limb from limb in a heartbeat, and who just might if she angered him. The very enemy the Navy was so desperately hunting down. And yet De Vries had been a mute and she'd never suspected. She'd never heard of him hurting anyone. She'd never feared him. And she just didn't feel threatened by this stranger either. She should be running, but her instincts were telling her that this man, mute or not, meant her no harm.
Torn between her conflicting emotions, Annalisse did nothing and let him speak.
“I'm also a law abiding, honest and hard-working citizen of the Commonwealth. I've committed no crimes and caused no harm to anyone. But, because of a few tweaked genes I was born with the Navy want to kidnap me, lock me up, study me, torture me for information and ultimately murder me. They want to do the same to my wife and children. They’ve already done it to so many others. That is a crime and I am speaking with a police officer about it. I'm asking for your protection.”
Annalisse stared at the man in yet more shock, trying to understand what he was saying. Trying to work out whether she should recoil in horror and run screaming or alternatively take his statement and go after those who had committed crimes against him. And all that she could think was that he was telling her he was a mute – a genetically engineered creature from the darkest days of history. And yet he was a victim of a crime. Plus he looked so normal. How could he be a mute?
It took a while to process what he’d said, longer than she would have wanted. But in the end she knew he was right. She only knew it because she herself had been interrogated not that long before. And yet he was a mute? It just couldn't be right.
“I don't know what to say.”
“Then don't say anything. Listen.” He stared at her, evenly.
“We mutes are just people like everyone else, maybe a little faster and stronger than normal, a little brighter perhaps and healthier too. We live a little longer. We don't suffer illnesses and we don't have many of the p
hysical failings either. But we are not and never have been the inhuman monsters the military paint us as. We don't steal children from their beds at night. We don't go on murderous rampages. We aren't soulless killing machines. We're just people.
“We get up every morning, brush our teeth, have breakfast and get the children ready for class. We go to work, come home at night and watch the holos. We laugh and cry like everyone else. We vote.
“But because our genes have been fine-tuned somewhat, we have to do one thing that no one else does. We have to hide. Because every mute knows that if the Navy catches us, they'll kill us. Nothing else matters to them other than our DNA. And it's a death sentence.
“We aren't an underground network of enemies plotting an attack as Naval Command says. We aren't organised. We've certainly never bombed anyone. Most of us don't even know who else might be one of us. We're a persecuted minority, trying desperately to survive. We are the victims here.”
He paused then, to let her think on what he’d said or maybe to let her judge him and to decide for herself if he was telling the truth. And the unexpected thing was that Annalisse did believe him. She didn't have any evidence to support what he was saying or to deny it, but Annalisse had had twenty years of experience interviewing suspects. She believed him.
“Unfortunately I can't help you. The ALEB's been shunted sideways. We're all on leave of one sort or another. Myself and most of my colleagues in the central station were interrogated too. Three died in the raid, four more died while being interrogated and eight more are still comatose in hospital. We’ve launched complaints to the Commonwealth itself. All useless.” They hadn't just been told they could do nothing, in a bitter twist the complaints had been referred to the Navy for consideration.
“This is not a police matter anymore.” But it should be. That was the thing that hurt. That was what tore at her soul. She should be able to do something. She should be acting. But she just couldn't.