Chimera

by Mark W. Tiedemann

  “I--well--”

  “Entering the cradle now,” another operator said.

  “Bring it in,” Palen ordered. “Embassy clearance or not, that shuttle is impounded.”

  Below, the huge doors opened. Tractor lines drew the sleek, bullet-shaped shuttle into the, bay. Once it had cleared the opening, the doors sealed and the bay started pressurizing.

  Palen moved to the access hatch. “Security, with me. Avery, you get on the comm and do liaison with your people. Masid, you do the same with Harwol.”

  “Pressurization complete, “ an operator announced.

  Derec went to the comm console and tapped in a code. The channel to the Auroran Embassy, Earthside, showed open.

  The hatch slid aside and Palen led her squad of police down the stairs. The hatch closed behind them. Derec went to the window and watched the security teams spread out around the shuttle.

  Masid joined Derec. “Now maybe I’ll start being optimistic,” he said.

  Derec looked at the chief operator. “Who issued the clearance?”

  “I’m not at liberty to--”

  “Don’t. A name. Was it Chassik?”

  The man looked embarrassed and uncertain. “Derec,” Masid said.

  Below, the shuttle hatch opened. Palen took a position at the base of the ramp, hands on hips. A woman appeared in the hatchway. For a long, long moment, she gazed down at the security people and Palen.

  There was a faint series of flashes around the bay door. And then, between one instant and the next, the door itself blew outward.

  Derec flinched back. The shuttle lurched off its cradle, the prow rolling over Palen. Bodies lifted off the deck and sailed out the gaping hole. The shuttle itself caught against the sides of the dock, wedged briefly.

  Then it exploded.

  There was no sound. Derec fell to the floor. He could hear the walls of the control booth creaking under enormous stress, but they did not yield.

  Minutes later, he managed to stand.

  The bay was empty of anything that might have been loose. The walls were stained black, and the hatch itself was buckled outward. The shuttle was gone, and no one remained in the now airless space.

  EPILOGUE

  D

  erec watched Masid pack. The man wore the clothes of someone used to moving around: comfortable, lots of pockets, simply cut. The pack, though, contained tools and devices no baley would carry.

  “You’re sure about this?” Derec asked.

  “I’ve got the best chance of getting to Nova Levis of anyone,” Masid said. “Already worked it out with the TBI and the Aurorans, so don’t even try talking me out of it. “

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Derec had grown quite fond of Masid in the last few days, since the world had changed. Derec had few enough friends. The thought of losing a new one disturbed him.

  But Palen’s death had affected Masid profoundly. He was angry and felt the need to do something. Derec believed going off like that was a bad idea, but he could think of no convincing argument to stop Masid.

  “You’ve got your hands full here,” Masid said. He glanced significantly at the robot standing near the door. “You wouldn’t want to loan that to me, would you?”

  Derec started. “That could be awkward, don’t you think? Having a robot with you wouldn’t be the most inconspicuous thing you could do.”

  “True, but I think I’m going to miss it.”

  The DW-12 did not react. Derec needed to schedule a complete diagnostic for it. Thales was unable to tell him very much about its make-up; everything was guesswork and projection. For a time, it had insisted on accompanying Masid. It took a good deal of insistent talk to convince it to stay with Derec. He recognized Bogard’s attachment to duty, certainly, but its facility at debate was all Thales. Derec doubted he would win every argument with this new creation, this composite.

  “You’re right,” Derec admitted. “Besides, Ariel asked me to help her do the analysis on the cyborg we acquired.”

  “‘Acquired’? Interesting term. ‘Killed and captured’ would be more accurate. “

  “If you destroy a robot, do you kill it?”

  Masid frowned.

  “It’s a good question,” Derec continued. “I’d say no. They aren’t, strictly speaking, alive. Can you make the same statement about a cyborg? They’re organic, certainly, but are they human?”

  “Or human enough.” Masid nodded. “Too much philosophy for me. I’m just a spy.” He finished packing and sealed the bag, then turned back to Derec. “We need to say goodbye. It’ll take me a few days to work myself back under cover so I can do this with any expectation of success. I’ll be on Kopernik for a time still, but after this we can’t know each other.”

  Derec took Masid’s hand. “Be safe.”

  “Always my intention.”

  Masid shouldered the pack and walked quickly out.

  Derec looked at the DW-12. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Whatever you wish,” the robot replied. “Within limits.”

  Derec started, then laughed out loud. “What do I call you?”

  “The preponderance of my matrix is based on Bogard.”

  “In that case, welcome back, Bogard. We have a lot to talk about....”

  Derec found Hofton in the positronics lab with Rana. They looked up at him dourly when he entered.

  “Now who died?” Derec asked.

  Neither smiled.

  “Ariel can’t get you permission to bring Bogard down,” Hofton said.

  Derec considered the news for a moment, then shrugged. “So I expected.”

  “She’s also being seconded to Auroran intelligence.”

  He started. “What?”

  “The cyborg is being shipped back to Aurora. They want her to work on it. Classified work, of course. “

  “I thought--”

  “She wants you, boss,” Rana said. “But if you leave Earth...”

  “I won’t get back.”

  “It is unlikely,” Hofton admitted.

  “I see.”

  “Boss--”

  Derec held up a hand. “We’ve got a little time, don’t we?”

  “A few days,” Hofton said. “Not much more, I’m sure.”

  “We’ll work something out.” Derec looked around the lab. “I need a workstation set up for a full diagnostic. Is Thales still linked up?”

  Rana nodded. “No one’s shut it down yet.”

  “Fine.”

  Work would take his mind off the situation for a time. Perhaps he could come to terms with what amounted to exile.

  Yart Leri strode into the lab. He gazed about, eyes wide, until he saw Derec, Rana, and Hofton.

  “There you are,” he said, coming up to them. “Have you heard? No, of course you haven’t. I just found out myself.”

  “Rega Looms has won the election despite having withdrawn?” Hofton said dryly.

  Leri frowned at him. “No, of course not.”

  “Sorry, Ambassador,” Derec said, giving Hofton a look. “What haven’t we heard?”

  “Nova Levis. A blockade runner has fired on a Theian perimeter ship. We may have a war on our hands.”

  Ariel’s lower back ached from the too-stiff posture. She could not make herself relax, and the chair simply could not compensate for her tension.

  The room felt cold, too. She was not entirely sure that was not an illusion, her own projection. No one around the conference table smiled; the mood was sepulchral. For the last four hours, Setaris had conducted the meeting--hearing, really--with all the warmth of a stone slab. After the first hour, Gale Chassik had stopped looking at anyone. He answered the questions put to him in monosyllables when possible, offering as little detail as he could get away with.

  The clearance that had allowed the shuttle carrying Tresha to switch destinations to the Solarian section of Kopernik had come from his office. He refused to acknowledge responsibility, but he could not deny the
evidence.

  He had stopped responding to questions at all nearly an hour ago. Ariel had been asked a few questions concerning details of the raid, but otherwise had not participated in the proceedings.

  “In view of the circumstances,” Setaris said finally, “I cannot in good conscience overlook the potential culpability in this matter on the part of Ambassador Chassik. Therefore, as head of the joint legation of the Fifty Worlds on Earth, I revoke his ambassadorial authority pending a hearing to review charges of abuse of office and negligence. Such hearing will be held on Aurora at a date to be determined by the Auroran legislature. Until then, Ambassador Chassik is remanded to house arrest, and his duties shall be assumed by another mission to be chosen by mutual agreement of this body.”

  Chassik looked up. “You ‘re making a vast mistake, Sen. “

  “Possibly,” Setaris said. “But a vastly smaller one than I would be making were I to allow you to continue as ambassador. Any questions?” She surveyed the table. “Good. This meeting is adjourned.”

  Ariel gratefully pushed away from the table and stood.

  Chassik met her at the door and blocked her way.

  “And, indeed, we have not finished, Ambassador,” he said.

  Ariel glanced at the two security guards flanking him. They stepped closer. Chassik glared at them, then left the room.

  “He’ll probably be recalled,” Setaris said.

  Ariel turned.

  “I’ll see to it he leaves before you do,” Setaris continued. “I apologize, Ariel. I know you wanted to remain on Earth, but...”

  “But I’m much more valuable where I can be kept an eye on,” Ariel said. “I understand.”

  “Ariel, I actually envy you leaving so soon. I don’t imagine that we’ll have a mission here for much longer. Once the Terran senate finishes casting us in the role of the devil for having spawned a new menace, we’ll be asked to leave. If war actually breaks out...well, I don’t look forward to leaving under those conditions. “

  “Why would Earth make war on us? It was a Settler ship that fired on a Spacer ship.”

  “Prejudice. We’ll be assuming control of the blockade, Earth will feel some perverse sympathy for the Settlers that we are then blockading, and the situation will degenerate from there.” Setaris shrugged. “I may be too cynical, though. Perhaps none of this will actually happen. If not, perhaps you can return. “

  Ariel could think of no response. She wanted to go back to her apartment and have a drink.

  Or go see Coren.

  Which would be more dangerous right now? she wondered.

  “We can talk again before you leave, “ Setaris said. “Arrangements need to be made and so forth. Till then, as a favor to me--be careful.”

  As she watched Setaris walk away, Ariel thought, I’m not happy about leaving Earth, but it will be a relief to get away from her.

  Rega Looms finished the meeting and sat behind his desk, eyes closed, trying to find the satisfaction he once enjoyed from business well-concluded. Nothing. After a time, he sighed and wondered if anything, ever again, would give him any joy.

  Melodramatic thought...

  He poured himself a glass of brandy and drank it slowly. When it was finished, he left the office and ascended to his private chambers.

  On the desk in his residential office lay the draft of his next sermon. He was alone now--wife dead, both children dead. He had nothing left but his company and his church. Politics was over for him, at least as a personal activity.

  He toyed with the ancient pen he always used to hand write these pieces, but, looking down the lines of neatly calligraphed words, he could think of nothing more to add just now.

  The world was ending and he had said everything...

  Looms shook his head. Ridiculous. Still, he felt that way often. What if, tomorrow, time stopped and the end came? Would he have done all he needed to do?

  Some things he no longer could finish.

  There were words he had needed to say to Nyom...

  He walked into his bedroom.

  Someone sat on the edge of the bed. A large man, dressed darkly, bare head bowed.

  “Who are you?” Looms asked automatically. He thought of the gun in his nightstand.

  The man raised his head. The room’s lighting played off of pale skin, rough, scarred complexion, and large eyes that seemed somehow artificial. He grinned.

  “Hello, Daddy,” said Gamelin. “So nice to see you after all these years.,..”

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE.. 4