by Sarah Zettel
“What we should have done in the first place.” Yerusha did not turn around. She kept her eyes locked on the desktop in front of her, watching her hands run through the commands. “My stock is pretty high with some of the crew at The Gate. I’m calling that tech, Kagan, and I’m going to get him to download the records of exactly what happened on The Farther Kingdom. With a few data-pointers, we can have the whole thing organized enough to transmit.”
“Transmit?” Dobbs felt the blood drain out of her cheeks. “Where to?”
Yerusha finally glanced behind her. “Everywhere. We’re going to broadcast who you are and what you did.”
“You can’t!” Dobbs blurted the words out. “You were standing there when I told Al Shei…”
“Dobbs, we’ve got it on record that you saved an entire planet. If we make this public, no single world will be able to make a move. You’ll be heroes. Free Home Titania won’t listen to me, but someone in one of the other Free Homes will pick up on the broadcast. They’ll give your people sanctuary. We can get this out in the open, and no one can stop us.” Her eyes were beginning to shine. “This is your chance, Dobbs. We send out the record of what happened on The Farther Kingdom, and Settled Space will see your kind are not dangerous, that you’re not separate from us at all, that you’ve saved us once and you’ll be able to do it again.”
“They’ll destroy us!” Dobbs feet backed her away from Yerusha, away from her bright eyes and the eager tone in her voice. “You can’t do this to us!” Her fingers scrabbled for the catch on the door. It slid back and she ran out into the main chamber.
They’ll destroy you even faster than the Guild will.
It wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. Yerusha just didn’t understand. She’d go back and explain. Al Shei was angry, but she wasn’t murderous. She’d let Dobbs go, hadn’t she? That was all the mercy Al Shei could offer right now. All Dobbs had to do was wait awhile and go back. That was all. Al Shei would let her back in. Yerusha would understand. Then she could…she could…
She remembered Al Shei’s granite eyes. She remembered Lipinski’s fear when she had told him she didn’t know where Flemming was, and Havelock’s face as he locked her into the hospital room. She remembered how eager Yerusha was to spread the news.
She bumped into somebody in the stairwell and nearly fell over. Stumbling and skidding on the stair treads, she kept on going.
Her world was gone. Everything she trusted and loved and depended on, and it had all turned away from her.
No. No. That isn’t it. What about Cohen? I can still go into the net, call Cohen and…
Except the Guild was watching the net, and Cohen wasn’t the only one who could follow a flight path. The Guild might be here already, waiting for her. They might be on their way to the Pasadena right now.
Her foot shot out from under her and she landed hard on the stairs. Her breath went out in a loud “whoof!” and pain bit into her back and neck. After blinking hard at the ceiling, Dobbs grabbed the railing and hauled herself into a sitting position, but she didn’t get up. She sat there, one hand on the railing and the other cradling her forehead.
There was nowhere to go. The Guild wanted to kill her. The Pasadena would never admit her again. Yerusha wanted to use her to prove the Freers had been right all along. There was nowhere to go. Everyone had thrown her out.
Except Curran. Curran had offered her a place to stay. Curran could stop Yerusha’s insane plan. He talked about freedom, a chance to be who she was. Who was she? Now that she wasn’t a Fool, she wasn’t anything. She wasn’t even really a refugee from Kerensk. What was left of Evelyn Dobbs now that she didn’t have anything to cover herself up with?
The confrontation must come. We should welcome it, Dobbs, because only after its over will we be able to make peace with them.
You have been lying to us for two hundred years! And now you are asking me to trust you?
Your body is going to be taken apart for the useable material, and you’re not going to be allowed to leave before they do it.
We can get this out in the open and no one can stop us.
You don’t have to go through this. You don’t have to be humiliated in front of your employers, you don’t have to face whatever the Guild is planning for you. Let me get you out of there.
Dobbs gripped the necklace around her throat.
No. No. There’s got to be something else I can do.
What? She asked herself harshly. What else are you going to do, Dobbs? Run away with Lipinski, maybe go back to Kerensk and set up house? Go on the gossip services after Yerusha’s little broadcast and talk about out-of-body experiences? The Guild has shut you out! Al Shei’s just kicked you out. What are you going to do? Huh?
What are you going to do?
She hauled on the necklace. The simulated jewels bit painfully into the back of her neck before the catch gave and the chain snapped free. She stared at the red and gold sparkle of it for a long moment before she tossed it onto the stairs. She trotted down to the next hatchway and walked out into the corridor without looking back.
The corridor was full to the brim with people, as Oberon’s corridors always were. Dobbs called on all her old training in physical control to avoid breaking into a run. The station was full of eyes and she did not want to be seen. Her throat kept swallowing, trying to feel the slight rub of her chain of office, which was not there. Would never be there again. She was not a Fool, but she would never be anything else.
She found a map on one curving wall and saw she’d blundered into one of the business modules. There was a bank outlet only a dozen yards down the corridor she was in. She threaded her way through the crowd. No one looked at her. That was good. It was good that nobody noticed one tiny, lost woman with her sore throat and eyes that were red from wanting to cry.
The bank outlet was almost full. Dobbs threaded her way between the desks and voices until she found an empty rental desk right next to back wall. She dropped into the chair and pulled out her pen. That and her box she had at least she had kept with her. She wrote DANE PRE-PAID across the desk’s main board.
After an agonized second, the desk came to life and a text message printed itself on the active top.
DOBBS, WE’VE BLOCKED YOUR PEN’S CODE FROM THE GUILD SPIES. GO TO THE OTHELLO COFFEE HOUSE. I’LL MEET YOU THERE.
CURRAN
That was all there was. The desk shut itself down. Dobbs stared for a moment at the blank surface, then, she got to her feet and went back into the corridor.
Things were becoming increasingly unreal. She felt as if she’d just had a dose of juice and her body was no longer her own. Some other force was making the legs move and turning the gaze so that she could avoid the crowds of Human Beings and make her way to the elevators. She watched as if from outside as her body travelled up ten levels and over three modules to the Desdemona hotel and the coffee shop.
She found an empty table and sat. There was something written on the surface. Probably an inquiry for her order. She couldn’t be sure. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. There were noises and moving shapes around her, but she couldn’t separate them out into distinct objects. She was only really aware of one thing. This was where she had juggled scarves for Al Shei and formulated her resolve to find out what was really going on aboard the Pasadena.
And now I know, she thought and it felt as if something inside her would tear in two.
As Dobbs fled the privacy booth, Yerusha started to her feet, but she didn’t follow the Fool. Dobbs was badly shaken. Of course she was. Yerusha was shaken. The whole of Settled Space would be shaken before this was done.
She sat back down and looked at the half-completed command on the memory board. Dobbs’ horrified shout seemed to echo around the booth.
You know, she’s probably right. You probably don’t understand. Crash and burn, she barely understood living humans, how was she supposed to understand the ones who had returned? She remembered Dobbs’ vigorous denunciation of the idea that sen
tient AIs were reincarnated humans. She shook her head. Metaphysics could wait for later. There were solid problems to be worked out.
Starting with what I should do now. She tapped her pen against the edge of the board. The idea of going public had just frightened Dobbs into running for the lower decks. Should she go find Dobbs and try to talk her out of her panic? Or should she just go ahead and place the call, trusting to Dobbs basic stability to get her through once the gears were grinding?
She remembered how well trusting Al Shei’s basic nature had gone and felt her lips press together into a thin, straight line.
She wiped the request for an open line and instead filtered through the credit for a single-shot fast-time message to Peter Kagan at The Gate.
“Kagan,” she wrote. “Imperative that we communicate in security as soon as possible. Will authorize payment for your fast-time connection to me.” She signed her name, and picked the SEND command off the menu. Then, she put in a request to the station AI that she be notified as soon as the fast-time came through, wherever she was.
Fast-time or not, it’s going to take the kid awhile to get clear. Yerusha sent a copy of the receipt to her personal files and shut the desk down. Hopefully, by then, she would have Dobbs calmed down.
She wrote a locate request on the board, and waited for the station to process it.
The text on the memory board shifted. EVELYN DOBBS BOARDED THE SHUTTLE ‘FIFTH DAY’ WITHOUT REGISTERING A FINAL DESTINATION. THAT SHUTTLE HAS NOW DEPARTED PORT OBERON.
Yerusha’s eyes bulged in their sockets. She’d left the station? Already? Crash and burn! Why hadn’t she said something? Why hadn’t she trusted, waited…
Why didn’t I go after her right away? Why’d I sit here so sure I was doing the right thing for her? What did I think I was going to prove?
Same thing she thought she’d prove with Holden, and with Foster. That Jemina Yerusha was right. That she knew what she was doing. That everything would be all right if everyone would just stop what they were doing and listen.
Ashes, ashes, ashes. She wiped her face with her palm. Now what am I going to do?
She stared at the desktop for another moment before shutting it down. Whatever it is, I can’t do it here.
She slid the door open, stepped out without really watching where she was going and found a human chest smack in front of her. She pulled up short and saw it was Schyler, who was also backing up.
“Sorry,” he pulled both hands out of his pockets. “I was…waiting for you to come out.”
“Did you see where Dobbs went?” she asked, trying to regain some dignity before getting down to the more important question of what Schyler was doing here. It was possible Al Shei had sent him to bring her back. It was possible he had come of his own volition. It was also possible she was about to be officially fired.
“No, I didn’t see Dobbs at all.” Schyler dug his hands back into his pockets. “Was she here too?”
“Yeah, for a little while.” Before I almost scared the life out of her. Yerusha drew a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. “Did you want me for something, Watch?”
“Yes.” Schyler extracted one hand and ran it through his hair. “I wanted to find out if you knew what was going on around here.”
Yerusha was so at a loss for words she couldn’t even open her mouth.
“She won’t talk to me!” Schyler jammed his fist back into his pocket so hard, she though the cloth was going to tear. It didn’t take much guessing to work out that ‘she’ was Al Shei. “I’ve been with her ten years, and now when its as bad as its ever been, she stops talking to me! How can I help her, how can I run that god-blasted-and-twisted ship for her, if she won’t tell me what’s going on!” He had his gaze fixed on the far wall, but Yerusha was certain he was seeing the Pasadena, and Al Shei. “Oh, she told me about The Farther Kingdom and Dobbs’ part in all that, but something else happened after we left the Fool’s Guild. Something major. And now, we’ve been impounded, we’ve got an all-hands crew meeting in less than half an hour and she tells me you might not be there and Dobbs definitely won’t be there but she won’t say why!
“I’m supposed to tell our crew what’s going on. I’m supposed to know.” He shook his head and looked directly at her again. His face betrayed the loss and betrayal inside him even more clearly than his voice did. Yerusha found herself wondering how she could have missed it. If the Pasadena was home to Schyler, Al Shei was his bedrock. She had showed him how the world worked, given him a place to stay and a purpose to live for. A few random thoughts dropped into place. He was probably the reason Al Shei’s partnership with Tully had lasted. Where she couldn’t trust Tully to take care of the ship and himself, she could trust Schyler.
And now she had turned away from him. Yerusha felt a surge of anger toward Al Shei. Fractured Ninja Woman, what did she think she was doing?
Keeping him safe. Not spreading panic. Trying to figure out to do, answered a part of herself she didn’t know existed. Yerusha wondered when she’d started liking Al Shei.
Probably about the same time you started really liking Schyler. Now the question was, which one of them was she going to let down?
She looked at Schyler and saw the bewilderment mixed with anger plain on his face and remembered when she’d had the same look; as the Senior Guard hauled her away from Holden’s body and told her she was under arrest. They hadn’t liked it, they hadn’t believed her guilty of much, but they’d done it anyway and she couldn’t believe they were doing it.
“Yes, I do know what’s going on,” she said quietly. “But you’re going to want to sit down before I tell you.”
“Evelyn?”
Dobbs’s eyes lifted reflexively. A middle-aged man stood beside the table. His wavy hair had gone grey, but he held his broad shoulders straight underneath his burgundy coveralls. His jet black eyes were calm and there was a concerned expression on his light brown face.
“I’m Theodore Curran.” He extended his hand. “Come on. You probably shouldn’t stay out here in plain sight.”
She stared at his hand. The fingers were square-tipped and the lines of the palm were deeply etched.
“I know this is hard,” he said. “But you need to come with me now. I’ll answer all your questions. I promise. Come on.” He took her hand and raised her out of her seat.
Walking beside him through the cafe’s heavy traffic shook off some of the stupor that had laid hold of her. Dobbs was able to see through the fog filling her mind to where her pent up questions waited.
Begin at the beginning, she thought whimsically. “Where are we going?”
“Ah, good.” Curran let go of her hand. “You are with me.” He skirted the lobby fountain. “And you’ll see where we’re going in just a few minutes.”
Not a very good start at answering. Then she remembered the security cameras. Normally, the fact that the station was monitored was not something that intruded on her conscious thought. Now, though, it sent a chill of fear through her. Anything the cameras recorded and stored, the Guild could find. Guild Master Havelock might already know where she was. Yerusha could put out a request to find her at any time.
Her stride faltered, partly from fear of discovery, partly because of who she found herself so afraid of.
Curran gave her a concerned glance. “They won’t find you where we’re going, Dobbs. Just a few minutes more and you’ll see exactly what I mean.”
Dobbs followed him the rest of the way across the lobby. I’ve burned all the other bridges, she thought, trying to gather her nerves again. A fool’s bolt is soon shot, she added before she could stop herself.
Somehow, though, being able to think in anything like a straight line gave her courage. Curran led her through the teaming corridors to the elevator bundle. He passed the lifts by, though, and took the stairs instead. Dobbs counted that they passed thirty levels on their way down. At last, they came to a bulkhead with a hatchway that had a red security light on its surface
. Curran palmed the reader. After a moment, the hatch hissed open. On the other side was a small, green-matted foyer with another sealed hatchway in the far wall.
Dobbs stepped across the threshold, puzzled. All station modules had airlocks for their main entrance and exit hatches, but, while the can was being occupied, both halves of the airlock usually opened together.
Curran was smiling at her. “We’re a little fussy about security here,” he said, as if he had read her mind. “Welcome home, Evelyn Dobbs.”
He palmed the reader on the far wall and the hatch cycled open.
At first, the other side looked like just a normal corridor. Then, she noticed the cameras at three foot intervals and the retracted arms under each one. A multi-limbed drone about the size of a serving cart glided along a grooved track and disappeared inside a hatchway. Dobbs looked down and saw only a thin strip of the normal velcro carpeting down the middle of the corridor. The floor on both sides had grooves in it for, presumably, more carts. She glanced up. There were identical tracks in the ceiling. Looking at it all, she realized there was no portion of the chamber that could not be reached by some kind of machinery.
This can isn’t for Human traffic, she thought with a kind of wonder. This is for us.
She looked up at Curran. He had his gaze fixed on her. “Home?” she asked.
Curran nodded. “This is my home, and home to those who agree with my plans. We designed it so we could work it in our natural state from inside the networks.” His face was relaxed now, and he seemed to smile easily. “We don’t spend much time in bodies, Dobbs. We prefer to live as we were born to.”
Dobbs wasn’t sure which astounded her more, Curran’s easy declarations, or the fact that he had established his headquarters in one of the busiest stations in the Solar System.
In the corridor, another hatch cycled open and a drone shot out. It glided around the curve toward them and through the hatch in the center. Dobbs caught a glimpse of the elevator shaft.
“But,” she stammered. “The Landlords must know you’re here. How…”