by Wren, M. K.
And Val Severin—
He couldn’t believe Val knew the real purpose of these pills.
“Alex? Should I call a medtech?”
It was ironic, the concern in her eyes.
“No, I’m all right.” he said, mustering a smile. He glanced at the bottles. “Erica may be right about my need for aid from medical science. When am I to start on these?”
Val frowned distractedly, then, “She—she said I was to see that you started on the antiviral immediately. You can take the acetyhistine whenever you need it.” She checked the labels, then uncapped the one marked trimycin.
He watched her as she filled a cup with water from the dispenser on the table. Her hands were trembling. He picked up the third bottle.
“Doricaine. That’s rather a strong sedative, isn’t it?”
She didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. I mean, I . . . I don’t know much about sedatives, really.”
That was a lie and an error, but Val Severin was out of her depth. She proffered the cup and a tablet. “Here, you’d better get this down.”
He didn’t move; he only looked up at her with a direct gaze and asked, “Val, are you sure you want me to take that?”
She went pale. “What?”
He put the doricaine bottle down beside the others.
“Take a fresh cup and empty half the pills from each of these bottles into it.” His tone was still quiet but carried an undertone of command, and she responded automatically, putting down the water, reaching for another cup. Then she stopped and stared at him.
“Put the—Alex, I don’t understand.”
“I won’t argue that now. Half the pills from each bottle.”
She complied without further protest, her hands shaking, her breathing shallow and fast. When she finished, he said, “Take those pills to ChemAnalysis and have them run through the analyzer. When you have a read-out, bring it to me.”
She turned even paler. “Why do you want them analyzed?”
“Is there any reason you don’t want them analyzed?”
“No—no, of course not. I . . . I just don’t understand why you’re suspicious of them. Dr. Radek prescribed them.”
“Did she? Val, I want your word that you’ll say nothing to anyone about this until you’ve brought me the read-out.”
A grim spark of defiance flashed in her eyes. “Why not?”
“Val, you think you know what an analysis will reveal about those pills, but you’re wrong. At least, I hope to the God you don’t know the truth. If I’ve judge you well, I doubt you’ll want to discuss the read-out with anyone else.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His tone was sharper. “Val, give me your word.”
She stared down at the cupful of pills as if it held an answer, then finally her chin came up. “You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
She didn’t respond or even look at him again. She moved stiffly, mechanically, away, through the screens and down the aisle, clutching the cup.
Alex reached into the drawer for the pocketcom, relieved when his call got an immediate answer.
“Ben, are you clear?”
“Yes, what’s—”
“Do you have Val Severin under surveillance?”
“Yes, and I just heard about her foray to the infirm——”
“She should be on her way to ChemAnal now. I want to know if she speaks to anyone or makes any detours on the way, and if she returns to the infirmary, have your agent tell her I’ll talk to her in HS 1. That’s if the trans is set up.”
“It’s set up. I was about to ’com you. And I’ll get your message through to her without exposing my agent, if you don’t mind. Hold on a minute.”
The ’com clicked off. Alex put it on the table, took his slacsuit out from under the pillows, and pulled himself to his feet, pausing until the dizziness passed. It was hard to remember to move slowly.
“Alex—”
He grabbed the ’com. “Yes, Ben.”
“Val’s under watch. Now, what the hell’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when I get to HS 1.”
Alex finished dressing, his trembling hands fumbling at the fasteners. He put the ’com and Ben’s gun in one pocket, then paused before putting the pill bottles in another.
Doricaine. That was carelessness. But setting up loyal followers as scapegoats was more than carelessness, even more than cowardice. It was an act of a man who could only see people as tools.
7.
“Cyanase.”
The word came hard. If he had any doubts about Val Severin, they were stilled by her ravaged face and the choking effort of pronouncing that word. She hadn’t known what she was carrying in those pills.
Alex sat in one of the chairs in HS 1’s work room. He remained seated simply because it was necessary to hoard his strength, but the flash of heat under his skin wasn’t a product of illness. Rage. Ussher had used Val, and used her badly.
“Val, please—sit down.”
She was so white he was afraid she might faint, but she shook her head.
“No, I . . .” She couldn’t explain her refusal, and he let it pass. Perhaps she found it difficult to sit down with someone she’d come so close to poisoning.
Cyanase. An expert choice; extremely fast-acting, its initial symptom a paralysis that made it impossible for the victim to call for help. And Ussher would have let Val carry that on her conscience.
“You needn’t explain yourself to me,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t know the actual content of those pills. You were probably told it was a sedative to preclude my attendance at the Council meeting.” Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. After a pause, he added, “Val, I want you to remember one thing: Erica has known you were working for Ussher since you planted the first monitor, but she’s never lost faith in you. Talk to her, Val. Please.”
She turned away, one hand pressed to her mouth.
“No. I can’t . . . talk to her. I can’t—oh, God, I don’t believe it. It can’t be true!”
He rose, watching her. She swayed against the back of a chair, her hair falling forward over her downcast face. “For the God’s sake why? And why—oh, Rob . . .”
“I can’t answer for Dr. Hendrick, but I can explain Ussher’s motives. I’m a threat to him, Val. My identity has inherent in it another alternative for Phase I, and he knows who I am.” He took a few steps toward her, reaching up to unfasten the medallion. “This was given to me by my brother. He preceded me into the Phoenix; led me to it. You knew him, Val. He died in Concordia the day before I arrived in Fina.”
She frowned at the medallion as if she found it difficult to focus on it.
“A . . . lamb?”
“My brother’s called a saint now.”
Her eyes flashed up to his, wide with bewilderment. “Rich?”
Alex turned the medallion, leaving the wolf uppermost, drawing her eye back to it with the movement.
“His name wasn’t Lamb any more than mine is Ransom.”
She stared at the medallion, still bewildered. She didn’t understand yet, but she would. He reached into his pocket with his other hand and took out a tape spool.
“Val, this is a product of the war of monitors. I haven’t heard it, nor has anyone except Ben and Erica. There are no other copies of it. It’s yours to dispose of as you see fit.” She took the tape, gazing blankly at it as he added, “Listen to it privately. It may seem cruel to give it to you, but you’ve been cruelly used, and if you’re to deal with that, you must understand it fully.”
“Understand? How can I understand any of this?”
The only answer he could offer to that, and to the anguish behind it, was, “Give your
self some time; you’ll understand. Now, you’d better go. And, Val, please be careful what you say and do. You’re a witness to an attempted murder; that puts you in a very dangerous position.”
She stared at him, unimpressed by her vulnerability. He doubted she’d be any more impressed if she fully comprehended it.
“What are you going to do, Alex? I mean, about . . . me.”
“I’ve done all I can, Val. What do you expect me to do? Call you before a Society tribunal? The tool isn’t responsible for the man who wields it.”
She shivered uncontrollably and looked away.
“Alex, I didn’t know. The pills—I didn’t know.”
“I believe you.”
She looked at him, then turned abruptly and stumbled to the doorway. She didn’t look back or speak, but Alex wasn’t surprised at her sudden leavetaking, or at her silence.
He went to Erica’s door, pausing before he touched the control. His hands were shaking. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed, his arm braced against the wall. He was cold, but that would pass, and the sickness he harbored within his body would vanish with a few days’ rest. But the sickness the Phoenix harbored might be past curing.
And how long would it take Valentin Severin to recover, not from a sickness, but from a wound that cut to her soul?
“What was it, Alex?”
Ben was standing near Erica’s desk, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed to slits.
Alex eased himself into a chair by the desk where Erica was opening her medical case and frowning absently over its contents. She said nothing, but she was waiting as tensely as Ben for his answer.
“Cyanase.”
“Holy God!” Ben’s hands knotted into fists.
Erica was still frowning as she looked around at Alex.
“Yes, it would be cyanase. Alex, what about Val?”
“To hell with Val!” Ben exploded. “Alex, this makes twice he’s tried to kill you. Don’t you—”
“I know, Ben.” He let his head fall back into the cushions. “But Predis is desperate; he didn’t think this out very well, and it may prove a costly error for him. He misjudged his tool. I want you to keep Val under close surveillance from now on. And I mean protective surveillance. She didn’t know what was in those pills. She thought it was only a sedative.”
Ben nodded, lips compressed. “I’ll ’com Willie.”
Erica glanced at him as he started the call, then looked down at Alex, her scrutiny partly clinical.
“I am sorry you had to be the one to disillusion her.”
“Save your sympathy for Val. I asked her to talk to you.”
“I hope she will. Did you give her the tape?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“It’s a painful cure, but better than having a murder on her conscience. And Val does have a conscience.” She looked at Ben, whose soft-toned conversation with Haral Wills was still in progress, then took a pressyringe from her case, leaned over Alex, and pushed up his sleeve. “I’ll give you the drenaline injection now, then you’ll have an hour to rest before the meeting.”
“I doubt I’ll have much time to rest. We have some plans to make.”
She finished the injection, then swabbed his arm with antiseptic and tossed the pressyringe into the syntegrator. “This will keep you going for a few hours. After that, you’d better be close to a bed.”
Ben snapped his ’com shut and put it in his pants pocket. “It’s set up. We’re short-handed—at least, with anybody we can trust—but we’ll look after her.” He paused, then said soberly, “Alex, you know Predis won’t give up with two tries, and you’re an open target here in Fina.”
“I know. It means a change in plans. I haven’t time to waste looking over my shoulder all the time. I’ll have to remove the target from the field. The Cormoroi Tactic; expedient retreat into SynchShift with subsequent reemergence and attack at the flanks. For the maneuver to be successful, Cormoroi advised leaving a minimum of half your forces on the field as decoys. So I’ll leave you and Erica to engage the enemy while I make my expedient retreat.” He frowned irritably. “And it galls me, this retreat, expedient or not, but that’s only pride talking. I’ll find it necessary to swallow a lot of pride for Andreas.”
Ben asked, “Exactly what do you intend to do while you’re chewing on your pride?”
Alex gave a short laugh. “Find Andreas. No, that’s your job. I intend to free him once you’ve found him.” He paused, taking a careful breath. His pulse rate was up, but the overwhelming weakness was leaving him. “Ben, we can’t set up a rescue operation out of Fina. We can’t risk Predis learning where Andreas is once you’ve found him. He’ll kill him if he can get to him first.”
Ben folded his arms across his chest, the flexing of his jaw muscles clearly visible. “So your idea is to set up an independent base of operations somewhere?”
“Yes.”
Erica stared at him. “But where, Alex? How?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how at this point, but the where has to be Castor. Ben said the best evidence points to Castor, so we’ll work on the assumption that Andreas is still somewhere on the planet. Any escape operation will undoubtedly involve MT transing, so the closer we can get to him the better; that will minimize our power needs. Besides, there are loyals in the Helen chapter we can depend on. Harv Vandyne, for instance; SI chief for the chapter. And Jael.” He smiled to himself. “He told me once he was on stand-by if it came to a face-off with the tooth-gimmer. And Dr. Perralt and Kahn Telman in the House of Eliseer, both charter members and friends of Andreas. I’ll have to play it as it comes. Erica, but I’ll start with the loyals in Helen.”
She went around the desk to her chair, seeming on the verge of protest, but after a moment she nodded.
“Well, at least it will put you out of Predis’s reach. It might keep you alive.”
“True. We must conserve our forces; that’s one of the purposes of the Cormoroi Tactic.” He smiled faintly at her frown of annoyance. “It has the further advantage of demoralizing the enemy. He won’t know where I am, what I’m doing, or when I might reemerge and strike. It should give him something to think about, anyway.” He folded his hands, noting that there was no hint of trembling now. “I won’t be going to the Council meeting, by the way, but it’ll keep Predis occupied while I make my retreat.”
Erica asked. “You’re not going to the meeting?”
“You’ll have to defend me there. This will be my last chance to make my presence known in Fina for some time. I can’t waste it on the Council. I need a larger audience.”
“For what?”
“A reminder, I suppose; particularly a reminder of Andreas. At any rate, it shouldn’t seem unreasonable for a commander embarking on a special mission to bid farewell to his troops.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to call a general assembly in FO?”
“Yes. As soon as Jan returns from his mission, which will be about half an hour before the Council meeting. I’d like to be ready to leave Fina as soon as I dismiss the assembly. Can you set something up with Vandyne in Helen by then?”
“Yes. I’ll go up to my office and take care of it now.”
“What’s the best way for me to get there?”
Ben looked at him levelly and laughed.
“The best way? Alex, there’s only one way. FO is out; Predis has too many friends there. And we can’t trans you, not until we’re sure of the MT techs on the Helen controls. We might end up transing you into a laser beam. That leaves the good old Selasid InterPlan System. You’ll have to take the regular passenger shuttle, and that’s risky enough. I only hope we get you safe in Helen before Predis can give the SSB another helpful hint.”
“Alex,” Erica put in, “you also have the problem of your health to consider.
I told you that injection will only last a few hours, and—”
“All right, Erica. Ben, tell Vandyne I may need a bed, damn it.”
Ben started for the door. “I’ll tell him. And I’ll put together your escape kit: tickets, ident, that sort of thing.”
“Not escape,” Alex said with an oblique smile. “Expedient retreat.”
“Whatever you call it, it’s a damn good idea to get you out of Fina.”
“It’s a better idea,” he replied grimly, “to get Andreas back to Fina.”
8.
Erica had insisted on accompanying Alex to FO on the pretext that she was still worried about his reactions to the drenaline. He probably didn’t swallow that, but he didn’t object. She stood in the corner of the comcenter where the windowall met the stone, watching the berthing processes in the hangar. Jan Barret would be arriving in the Demond in a few minutes, the last of the raiding fleet. The fleet was nearly half an hour past its scheduled lock arrival time, but it had been a successful mission, apparently. Three new Confleet Falcons were berthed in the hangar, and only two of Barret’s ships had been damaged. Six crewmembers were injured, but none seriously.
She turned her attention to the comcenter now, and to Alex Ransom. Her real reason for being here was curiosity; she wanted to see how the members responded to him. Still, the medical concern was real enough. Even from a distance, the fevered flush against his pale skin was obvious, but he was moving well, and there had been no coughing.
She watched him now in an intent exchange with Major Eton of TacComm, thinking of the contrast between Alex’s approach to leadership and Predis Ussher’s. Alex didn’t underestimate the importance of emotional responses, but he wasted no effort on stirring verbiage or displays of camaraderie, and certainly not on studied affectations of Lordship. It would be interesting, she thought, if Alex allowed himself to play the Lord. He’d make Ussher look like the posturing pretender he was, because for Alex it wouldn’t be a role; it would be a reversion to what he was.