Dark Horse

by Michelle Diener

  “What happened at the pool? I donʼt really understand what youʼre talking about.”

  She sighed. “Thereʼs a first stage in human attraction, and Iʼm guessing this goes for the Grih, too. You take a quick look at someone and from some place in your hind-brain you think: ʽoh, heʼs big and strong, will make pretty babies, and heʼll be up to fending off any saber-tooth tigers who come sniffing around.ʼ He takes a look at you, and thinks: ʽoh, soft, curvy, will make a good motherʼ and then pretty much thinks about all the sex you could have together. Itʼs meaningless, in that you can walk away after thinking that, no harm, no foul, and that would be the end of it. But you canʼt go on to Stage Two without it.

  “I would have walked, because Iʼm lying to him about you, and anything between us would be dishonest, but I was swimming in the pool they have on board and all my pent-up feelings just came rushing out. Dav found me there, and comforted me. That comforting sort of veered off-course and became something more . . . sexual. I think we skipped a couple of stages.

  “Well, if we were on Earth, that would be true, Iʼll have to see whatʼs on that Grih handheld about social norms in Grih society.”

  “So, you want to be his sidekick?” Sazo asked.

  She gave a laugh. “No. There is no way Iʼd be Dav Jallanʼs sidekick in a million years. Iʼm on equal footing with him, or not at all.”

  Sazo was quiet.

  “You didnʼt think Iʼd jump ship on you?” She suddenly realized thatʼs what heʼd been asking.

  “I didnʼt know.”

  “Sazo, I made a promise to you, and despite my better judgment, Iʼve kept it. And Iʼll happily be your sidekick as a full-time job, because you have a lot to offer the Grih as an ally, and if we can somehow purge the Class 5 of all Tecran reminders, I could deal with being on it again. And Iʼm sure Dav and his crew would jump at the chance of exploring their territory with you, but none of that can happen if they donʼt know you exist.”

  He made a humming sound, just like she did when she was thinking things over. “So, why wouldnʼt you be his sidekick in a million years?”

  She laughed again. “Because that would imply he was in charge.”

  “I donʼt understand why you are all right with being my sidekick, but not his.”

  She wondered again how old Sazo was. Too young, she thought. Too young, and too powerful. And the Tecran had chained him, feared him, but used him all the same. It made her sick.

  “Iʼm all right with it because you came to me with a deal. I could have said no, but I agreed. I got something out of it, and so did you, but the control was in your hands. You might not have known about the concept of sidekicks when you made the deal with me, but effectively, thatʼs what you were asking me to be.” She wondered how to put the next bit in words a young, spooky-intelligent IA would get. “Dav Jallan is attracted to me. Fortunately, or unfortunately, given our current circumstances, Iʼm attracted right back. But if I were to be his sidekick, Iʼd be implying he was the leader and I was the follower. The weaker member of the team. When it comes to that kind of relationship——a romantic relationship——I wonʼt accept anything but equality.”

  “A different type of relationship.” He said it as if it had just occurred to him there could be more than one, and her heart broke a little more.

  His relationship with her was the only one he knew. Although . . .

  “Your relationship with the Tecran was an abusive one. They caged you and used you, and gave you nothing in return. Your relationship with me is one of mutual benefit, and friendship, too, I hope, but youʼre the boss, in that you made the plans, then invited me to join with you. If I ever have a relationship with Dav Jallan, and thatʼs certainly not looking likely, it would be one of mutual attraction and respect, where neither one of us would have more power than the other.”

  “You still have power in our relationship,” he said, thoughtful.

  “Oh, I wouldnʼt have agreed to work with you if Iʼd had no power. But I have less than you.”

  “Like Holmes and Watson?”

  “Like Holmes and Watson. Holmes was the one people came to for help, Watson came along as Holmesʼs assistant, and Holmes was better because he was there, and got more enjoyment from his work.”

  “I donʼt like the idea of you and Jallan.”

  She paused. This was tricky. Sazo could hurt Dav, and that would be on her, if she didnʼt nip this in the bud.

  “If itʼs any consolation, Holmes didnʼt like Watsonʼs lover, either. Not at first, anyway. He wanted Watson all to himself. But Watson showed him that having another perspective was good. That they could still be an excellent team with Watson involved in a romantic relationship.

  “In fact, Watson showed him that his being fulfilled in all areas of his life was better for him and made him a better friend. Holmes didnʼt seem to need a romantic relationship, but thatʼs because of who he was. Watson did need it. And he was a happier person because of it.” She honestly didnʼt know how much of this she was making up and how much was true of the Holmes and Watson stories.

  Holmes hadnʼt like Watsonʼs fiancée, she knew that. Whether he ever got over that dislike, she couldnʼt remember. It didnʼt really matter, as long as she could sell it to Sazo. Who was going to contradict her, after all? She was the Sherlock Holmes expert in this part of the galaxy.

  “Iʼm still in the dislike stage,” Sazo said.

  “Youʼll get over it,” Rose told him. “Weʼre hardly staring deeply into each otherʼs eyes and declaring our undying love, anyway. He just told me Iʼm suspected of mass murder, and I just politely threw him out my room. And I can only see that getting worse when he finds out about you.”

  “If he finds out.”

  She sighed. “I made a promise, so itʼs your call, but you should seriously consider it, Sazo.”

  “Itʼs better I donʼt.” His voice took on a sharper, more focused tone, and she sat up.

  “What?”

  “Thereʼs something happening.” He went quiet and she waited, curious.

  “Two Grih battleships arrived earlier, as firepower. I knew they were coming, but there is also a United Council delegation on the way in a fast transport vessel, and another ship from Battle Center with some of Captain Jallanʼs superior officers on board. If you would just get me into the Grih system, Iʼd know more, but the comms Iʼm intercepting from the Barrist seem to suggest those are the only other starships theyʼre expecting.”

  “And?”

  “And there is someone else coming. A small, private craft. It signaled the Barrist a few minutes ago, but the comm didnʼt go through the main comms center. It went to a private comm.”

  “To the captain?”

  “No.” There was a trace of amusement in Sazoʼs voice. “I analyzed the captainʼs comm signature when he went aboard the Class 5. It isnʼt to him. It isnʼt directed to anyone who has been on board the Class 5.”

  “This was part of your plan?” His tone was too interested, too considering, for it not to be.

  “I wanted to lure some people out here and listen in to their chatter.” He spoke distractedly.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Iʼve intercepted. It was on an old frequency they perhaps thought no one would look out for. But Iʼve recorded it and, just to stir things up, Iʼve made Jallanʼs chief engineer aware of it. Maybe he can smoke out the mysterious receiver of the call. Seeing as you wonʼt get me into the system.”

  She ignored the barb. She wasnʼt letting him in unless he swore he wouldnʼt kill anyone. “What does it say?”

  “Itʼs all about you, Rose.” Sazoʼs voice got a little more edgy. “Wanting to find out how advanced a sentient you are, and whether youʼre able to articulate what happened to you.”

  She gave a snort. “Well, itʼs a bad day for them, obviously.”

  He snorted as well, so exactly a replica of what sheʼd just done, she swallowed a laugh.

  “I like you, Rose.”

  It was so sincer
e, and so filled with surprise, she smiled.

  “I like you, too, Sazo.”

  “I never liked anyone before.”

  “Iʼm honored to be your first friend.”

  “The person theyʼre transmitting to just replied that you are a danger to them.” He was all business now. “I blocked the comm, so whoever is on that private craft wonʼt get that particular message, but Iʼve recorded it and sent it to Borji as well. Letʼs see if he can use the Barristʼs systems to find who sent it.”

  “You sound like you like him, too. Borji.” The more people he liked, the less likely he was to kill them when they didnʼt seamlessly fit into his plan.

  He paused. “I think youʼre right. I donʼt like him as much as I like you, but I . . . respect him. Heʼs been trying to break into the Class 5 comms and weapons systems for over a day, and heʼs been innovative and determined in the attempt. He wonʼt get in, but Iʼve enjoyed playing with him. Itʼs been a fun game.”

  “And you canʼt break into his system, either,” she said, then regretted reminding him of the issue between them.

  “Youʼre right. He is a worthy adversary.” He made the humming sound again.

  She stood, the itchy feeling of wanting to jump out of her skin prickling through her. She needed to get out of this room.

  “When will you let me in the system, Rose? Itʼs not just my plan, now, itʼs your safety, too. Someone is coming who means you harm, and thereʼs someone on board this ship working with them.”

  She rubbed her face with both hands. “I want to, but I donʼt want to risk the lives of these people, Sazo. I need you to promise me theyʼll be safe.”

  “I canʼt do that, Rose. If they turn on me, and they will, Iʼll have no choice but to protect myself. Surely thatʼs my right?”

  “Youʼre setting up a situation that has already put them in the firing line, Sazo, dropping the Class 5 here. You may have to defend yourself, but in a scenario you created. Your life doesnʼt depend on being here. You could have found anywhere for us. Avoided this altogether.”

  He thought that through. “I need to do this. I need to find out where Iʼm from, Rose. Please, let me in the system.”

  She picked up the handheld, tucked it under her arm, then scooped up the Grih handheld as well. “Iʼll think about it.”

  “Think about it fast.” He spoke softly. “Time is running out.”

  18

  Appal was in the training area when Dav got there, and he stood, disappointed, watching her move through the first level.

  He needed to kill things alone.

  She turned, saw him, and shut the virtual battle down. “I can make it a two-person mission.”

  He gave a nod, and shrugged into the jacket and gloves, strapped on the weapons he would need.

  “Bad news?” she asked in the aftermath of the opening play.

  He noted that he had severed the heads of two of the combatants with his return fire. “Borji found the lens feed from the Class 5 cells.”

  She spun so they were back-to-back and he felt her shudder under the backlash of her shockgun as she discharged her weapon. When they were clear, she shook out her arms. “Bad?”

  He crouched and shot just to the right of her, taking out the last remaining image-generated Krik as he rose up from behind some crates to take aim at them. “Yes.”

  “Whereʼd Borji find the files?” She was barely breathing hard as she checked her sim weapon for charge. “I always like to know how the enemy thinks.”

  “In a file in the inventory system.”

  “Huh. As if they were part of their inventory.”

  They stepped into the third scenario, with the Krik still starring as the main enemy, and Dav wondered how long it would take for the Tecran to start appearing as the targets in these things.

  If he had anything to do with it, not long.

  “Captain Gee have a role to play in any of the visual comms?” Appalʼs tone was quiet, and Dav knew she was thinking about their first interview with the captain, the way heʼd looked down and away when theyʼd mentioned violation of the Sentient Beings Agreement.

  Dav had to kill three Krik before he could answer. “Not directly. The now comatose Dr. Fliap seems to be the one who actually carried out the abuse, but Gee physically came to the cells to observe him hard at work at least three times in the limited clips Iʼve seen.”

  “Bastard.” Appal sighted her shockgun, resting it on his shoulder for stability, and took out a gunner sitting high above them in a tower. “You given it to the UC liaison officer?”

  Dav stepped away from her and covered her back. “Yes.”

  There was only one way out, and Appal ran at the huge pipe that would be their best cover, flipped in mid-air and landed in a crouch at the top. She covered him as he ran at it himself and jumped up, although less elegantly than her.

  They slid down the far side, and this time both of them were breathing heavily.

  “What do you think? About Rose?” He was so tied in knots, he didnʼt trust himself.

  “Sheʼs as likely to have killed the Tecran as Dr. Revilʼs little boy, in my opinion. But if she did it, if sheʼs hiding her true nature behind that really sweet exterior, you had better have done everything by the book.”

  That was his take. Which meant he had to throw Rose to the wolves. And he didnʼt think thereʼd be any forgiveness for him at the end of it.

  Not after what heʼd just seen on the lens feed. The abuse sheʼd been put through.

  To be treated as a suspect when she was the victim . . .

  He lifted his shockgun, and took out the horde of Krik trying to scramble over the pipe. But not even wiping out every im-gen enemy in the training center was going to melt the cold, hard lump in his throat.

  She made her way back to the spacescape.

  Now she knew what to expect, it didnʼt worry her at all as she stepped into the massive room which sat like a bubble on the side of the ship.

  There was a comfortable chair set slightly apart from the other seating with a great view out to Virmana and the stars beyond. She made herself at home, pulled out the Grih handheld Yari had given her and began reading up on Grih culture.

  She went to the music-makers first. The Grih had apparently been the hosts for the start of the United Councilʼs dispute resolution court for the year, and a music-maker had performed at the opening ceremony.

  There were a lot of drums involved in their music, and she liked it, tapping the side of the handheld in time with the beat. The song itself was really just an ode to the occasion, what she thought would probably have been quite common at the courts of the medieval rulers of Europe, praising the people involved, singing about what they hoped to achieve.

  It wasnʼt something she could see herself doing. It was serious, with no joy or humor in it. They took music too seriously here, and hoarded it like a dragon hoarded its gold. Parting with it begrudgingly and in tiny increments.

  Next she turned to Grih history, and she couldnʼt help looking back as far as she could, to the origins of their culture. They had no formal religion, instead, they saw themselves as an integral part of the world around them, no better and no worse than any other living creature. Their philosophy seemed to be that life would thrive where it could, it was the nature of the universe to do so.

  They had been hunter-gathers for a long time, and had never gone down the path of peasants tilling the field for landowners. It seemed to have led to a more harmonious, egalitarian culture, and fewer wars meant more time and money to develop interesting, ground-breaking ideas. Their Renaissance seemed to have lasted for most of their history.

  But back when they had survived as a hunter-gatherer group, the main prize for the Grih had been the yurve. A huge animal, bigger than any buffalo Rose had ever seen, although smaller than an elephant, its intelligence and belligerence were Grih legend.

  The yurve was revered in their culture much as the lion was in Roseʼs own, as the embodiment of bravery and power.


  The thought of a lion made her pull up short. It came back to her, in stark clarity; the lion lying on the floor of the Class 5, still in its cage, its huge paws stained with the black grit that seemed to coat every surface of the launch bay.

  She deliberately closed the page she had been looking at and searched for a reference to thinking systems.

  It took less than a second to find all the information she would need.

  They had been used for over a hundred years, slowly growing more sophisticated, more self-aware, until a scientist called Professor Fayir developed a thinking system which came fully into consciousness.

  It had lobbied for the right to be considered a sentient being, and had been accepted, but it had begun creating replicas of itself, and not taking the time or care to educate or control them, until Grih started dying, killed in ways Rose could imagine happened just like the lionʼs death.

  Thinking systems had been adopted by other nation-members of the United Council, and theyʼd also experienced loss of life, but the Grih, who had thinking systems in every part of their society, were hardest hit.

  Professor Fayir tried to persuade the United Council that the problem was that the new thinking systems hadnʼt been nurtured, and insisted he had a plan which would make it safe to create a new type of TS.

  But Professor Fayir could not promise the United Council that the thinking systems would only ever work for the benefit of society. Rose read his final speech: “No one can guarantee any sentient being will only work for good. A sentient being is by definition autonomous, and therefore free to behave as it wishes.”

  At least he hadnʼt lied, Rose thought. He could have tried to downplay the risk, but he hadnʼt.

  Because of the power they could wield, the UC decided that the creation of all thinking systems must be banned, and every one that existed must be destroyed.