“You were following us?” She began it as an accusation but ended it as a question.
“We expected the Eckandi and Surin in the next shipment. When the shuttle crashed, Haid sent me to investigate. I recognized Veden from the file we had on him—but you I wasn’t so sure about.” He shrugged mightily, all the muscles in his back and shoulders rippling. “No offense. It wasn’t until the Enforcers moved in on you that I was fairly certain you were working with the Eckandi and not against him.”
“So why take so long to help us?” Cane’s voice was smooth in the cool quiet of the cave, but Roche thought she detected a hint of annoyance underlying his words. “We were struggling out there, in case you didn’t notice.”
“I felt it would be best to wait for the cover of the storm before acting. They come in waves on Sciacca. The one that just hit us was the second of a tri-rage. I knew it had to hit soon—as did the Enforcement—so I just kept my distance until it did.”
“And this?” said Roche, indicating the tunnel they were walking along. “This is the base of the resistance?”
Roche had suspected they had been captured by the covert movement Veden had mentioned, and when Emmerik failed to deny it, she knew she was right.
“No. We just use these tunnels and the ravine for recon, mainly. If we need to get to the port unseen, and so on.”
“Is that where we’re going? Port Parvati?”
“Not yet.” The Mbatan gestured for her to continue walking, but said nothing more.
The tunnel continued for five hundred meters or so farther, dipping downward at one point, until it opened onto a slightly larger chamber.
Veden looked up as they entered, his cold eyes glittering in the unnatural light. “What did you do to her?” he asked Emmerik, his tone harshly accusing. The Surin lay in a fetal position on the rough stone floor at his feet.
“Xarodine.” The burly Mbatan ushered Roche and Cane into the chamber ahead of him. “If she’d squawked at the wrong moment, the Enforcers would have known where to find her.”
“She has more control than that!” Veden barely kept his rage in check. “She’s not some fledgling talent you’d buy for a copek at a local—”
“I couldn’t take that chance,” said Emmerik calmly over Veden’s outrage. He slipped a filthy hand into his coverall and removed the dart gun that had administered the dose. “Besides, it’ll wear off in a few hours—then we’ll get to see exactly what she can and cannot do.”
Roche, studying the curled form of the Surin, felt suddenly sorry for her. Xarodine inhibited the epsense ability. The girl was, as a result, cut off from her senses, trapped in her own skull like any other blind deaf-mute.
“You.” Emmerik handed Roche a tablet with a flask of water. “Take this.”
“Why?” She eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Painkiller. We need you fit if we’re going to make the hills by nightfall.”
Veden’s glare doubled in intensity. “She’s not with us. Nor is he.”
Emmerik glanced from the Eckandi to Cane, but there was no suspicion in his expression. “If I’m not mistaken, he saved your life back there.”
“She’s with COE Intelligence,” he said. “And he’s with her.”
“Regardless. The Enforcers fired at her too.”
“I don’t care,” said Veden. “They’re not with us.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time you need help,” said Roche.
Veden stared, the half-light highlighting the anger on his face. “I don’t need the help of the Armada!”
“We could have left you on the Midnight to fry, and you know it.”
“Hey!” Emmerik cut Veden’s response off before the Eckandi had a chance to speak. “I don’t give a damn who she’s with. What happens to her is up to Haid, okay?” When he was certain that neither Roche nor Veden would continue the argument, Emmerik turned away and shrugged into an old, well-used backpack. “I leave in five minutes. Whoever wants to come with me can. Whoever doesn’t can stay.” The Mbatan’s eyes settled on Roche again. “And if you don’t want that tablet, give it back. Medical supplies aren’t easily come by on Sciacca.”
Roche placed the tablet in her mouth, wincing at the bitter taste. She quickly washed it down with water from the flask, which tasted of dirt and left an oily residue on her tongue.
“I’m with you,” she said, handing back the flask. “Not that I have much choice.”
“Too right, lady.” The Mbatan came close to a smile. “You wouldn’t last a day out there in your condition—even with your friend.”
“What about Maii?” Veden interrupted brusquely.
“You can lead her.” The Mbatan smiled, teeth glinting in the eerie chemical light. “Think she’ll trust you?”
Veden turned to help the girl to her feet. Maii’s hands fluttered for a moment over the Eckandi’s face and hair, then became still. She allowed herself to be led across the room with her hand clutched tightly in his. Roche noted, however, that there was more desperation in the clasp than affection.
“Good.” Emmerik nodded. “We’ll move in a line with me in the middle. You,” he said to Cane, “go first, then you.” Roche nodded. “Then the others. And I’ll have your weapons before we go, thanks.”
Cane hesitated for a moment, then handed over the laser. Roche did likewise with the pistol. Veden produced a stolen Enforcement rifle from under his robes. All three vanished into the voluminous folds of the Mbatan’s pack.
“Good.” Emmerik swept the chamber with the flare to ensure that nothing had been overlooked, then gestured down the corridor. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Roche nodded to herself, remembering the wave of gloom that had almost overwhelmed her earlier. The emotion had been accentuated by the ions presaging the dust storm, she knew, but that knowledge did little to console her.
Roche shrugged and sighed. They had been walking rapidly for almost half an hour without once leaving the underground tunnel. The painkiller Emmerik had given her had dulled her shoulder to a mere ache without numbing her mind as well. And, with little to distract her, she found herself slightly bored—despite her uncertain circumstances.
Cane’s voice suddenly broke the quiet, his words resounding along the tunnel down which they walked. “Those people who attacked us,” he said over his shoulder. Roche could tell he was talking past her to the Mbatan. “There were six of them, right?”
“That’s right,” said Emmerik. “Standard recon team.”
“And we took out four.”
“The Surin one, your friend one, and you two,” the Mbatan confirmed. “You fight well in the dust, for an off-worlder. For anyone, to be honest. Where were you trained?”
“That leaves two,” said Cane, ignoring the question.
Emmerik grunted a laugh. “Yes,” he said. “That leaves two. If we’re lucky, they’ll believe you staggered off into the storm and died.”
“And if we’re not?” put in Roche.
“They’ll have this area swarming with Enforcers.”
“Will they find the tunnel?”
“Probabl
y.” Emmerik scratched his beard, the rustle of fingertips on hair clearly audible over the dull echoes of their footsteps. “But I don’t believe that will happen. Most likely they’ll just send another recon team to quarter the area.”
“And then?”
“That depends on how badly they want you, doesn’t it?” he said. “And why. What did you do? Blow up the ship?”
“No. We were ambushed by the Dato Bloc.”
“Dato? Here?” Emmerik couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Well, well. That is interesting.”
Silence fell for a moment. Roche could almost hear the Mbatan’s mind turning, until Veden spoke up.
“She’s carrying something they want. An AI. It’s strapped to her back.”
“They must want it badly to raid the Commonwealth.”
“Obviously,” said Veden.
“Maybe they’ll even be prepared to pay for it,” ventured Emmerik.
“A great deal, I’d imagine,” said the Eckandi.
“Yes.” The Mbatan’s voice changed to mimic the Eckandi’s suggestive tone. “And all we’d have to do is sell her out, right? Hand her over like some low-grade ore in exchange for a few credits?”
Veden fell silent.
“I don’t like you much, Makil Veden,” said Emmerik, “no matter what Haid says you can do for us. Remember that. I don’t care what she is or what she’s carrying; it’s what she did that counts. On Sciacca’s World, a life saved is worth something.”
“My name is Roche, Emmerik. Morgan Roche. Not ‘she’.”
Emmerik ignored her. “Do you hear me, Veden?”
“I hear.” The Eckandi’s voice was low and dangerous. “But I will raise the matter with Haid when we arrive. The reality of your situation makes sentiment meaningless. Perhaps he will see things differently.”
“You obviously don’t know him very well.” The Mbatan’s heavy palm descended onto Roche’s shoulder. She couldn’t tell whether the gesture was meant to reassure her, but she knew it wasn’t threatening. “If the AI Roche carries is so valuable, then we may be able to use it to our advantage.”
She said nothing, let the moment bury his words. Pledging herself and the Box to Emmerik’s cause seemed premature, no matter how much she owed him.
“I will freely offer any assistance I can give,” said Cane.
Roche frowned in the dark, surprised by Cane’s words.
The Mbatan laughed. “That I expected. You are clearly a man of action: a trained soldier for certain, someone who recognizes debts of honor.” He paused for a few steps. “I suspect that I can trust you, wherever you are from.”
“My origins are unknown,” said Cane. “Even to me.”
“An unknown soldier, eh?” Emmerik shrugged, the fabric of his coverall shifting noisily over his large frame. “Then it must be a natural ability.” His hand fell away from Roche’s shoulder as he added, “Quiet now. The exit is nearby.”
A few meters farther, and Emmerik called the party to a halt. He lit another chemical flare, and the weird light revealed that they had stopped in a chamber similar to the one they had left earlier. This time the tunnel did not continue on the other side. Instead, a rope ladder dangled from a gnarled cavity in the ceiling.
“I’ll go first,” said Emmerik, “to open the hatch and make sure the area is secure. Wait here.”
The Mbatan swung his bulky form up the ladder with surprising speed. The mica in the rock wall flickered under the light from his flare as he ascended into the shadows. Moments later, a shaft of muddy light spilled through the hole, followed by the sound of wind and a shower of fine dust. Roche waited patiently, idly flexing the muscles of her right arm and wondering how she was going to climb the ladder one-handed.
Emmerik returned, his pack gone and his dirty teeth cutting a wide grin through his beard. “All’s clear,” he said. “You, soldier, go first.” Cane nodded. “I’ll bring the reave. Veden will follow me. Then I’ll come back for you, Commander.”
The rope ladder danced as Cane began his graceful ascent, his movements as nimble and surefooted as any Surin child Roche had seen. Emmerik reached out for Maii, who immediately retreated from his alien scent.
“Don’t be afraid, little one.” Emmerik’s voice was gentle and soothing as he tried to ease his arms about the Surin’s shoulders.
The girl shied away even farther.
“She can’t hear you,” said Roche. She reached out to touch the Surin’s arm, to offer reassurance. Much to her surprise, the girl clutched at her hand with both of hers and held it tight.
“At least she trusts you,” observed the Mbatan. “But that doesn’t help us. You can’t carry her.”
“I know. Just give me a moment.” Roche soothed the girl, stroking the fine hair of her cheeks and ears, feeling the grainy texture of the skin beneath it. Slowly Maii quietened, nestling into Roche as a small child might to its mother. When the girl was completely relaxed, Roche let Emmerik come closer and place his enormous arms in a clumsy embrace around her own. Then she slowly slipped aside.
The Surin stiffened for a moment, then seemed to accept the situation. With barely a grunt of effort, Emmerik slung her across his back. She clutched him tightly, looking like a rag doll tossed over the shoulder of a giant child.
“I won’t be long,” said the Mbatan. Tossing the chemical flare to her, he began the steady, careful climb up the ladder. The rope, although it stretched slightly, didn’t break under their combined weight.
Shortly afterward, Emmerik called back down for Veden to follow. He did so, facing Roche briefly in the fading light of the flare. For a second she felt he was about to say something, but in the end he simply fixed her with a cold glare and scurried up the ladder.
Watching after him, she suddenly found herself smiling at the Eckandi’s enmity toward her. His reluctance to have her and Cane along was understandable: after all, Enforcement was after her, not him. DAOC might not even be aware that he had escaped the Midnight. If he could get rid of her, he would be free to do whatever he had come to Sciacca’s World to do. If, however, he stayed with her, the chances increased that he would be captured.
She could follow Veden’s logic, but she didn’t like it. Emmerik’s uncomplicated way of thinking mirrored her own. She and Cane had saved the Eckandi’s life twice now; that should have counted for something. But the Eckandar Trade Axis was renowned for its pragmatism in both business and life. The borders of its trading empire were far-flung, and its influence, in concert with the Commerce Artel, all-pervasive. Sharklike, the members of the Eckandar Caste had little room for sentiment or other emotions that she took for granted. In order to win his support, she would have to demonstrate her material worth to him: she had to prove that she offered more than her presence risked.
The answer to that, she suspected, lay in Veden’s mission. Whatever that was.
A quiet murmur of voices broke the silence and her train of thought. She listened to them for a few minutes, following the rise and fall of inflection rather than the words themselves, which were mostly inaudible. They seemed to be arguing about something. Maybe Veden was trying to convince Emmerik to leave her behind again.
No. The voices were coming from behind her, from the tunnel, not from above.
She immediately smothered the chemical flare and moved away from the dull cone of radiance into the security of the shadows. The light from above was relatively dim, not bright enough to travel too far along the tunnel, but still a concern.
She fought the urge to warn Emmerik and the others, knowing that her voice would carry to whoever approached as surely as theirs had carried to her.
The voices grew louder: a woman talking into a radio, the static-dampened responses not reaching Roche clearly. There was no way of telling exactly how many approached, or how close they were. The echoes of voice and, faintly, footsteps might have traveled hundreds of meters through the stone tunnel or not very far at all.
As she watched, a faint glimmer of
light appeared in the depths of the tunnel: an electric torch tracing their path in the dirt.
The movement of the ladder in the dim light startled her momentarily; she glanced up and saw Emmerik descending from the hole. When his night-sensitive eyes saw her in the shadows, he opened his mouth to say something, but Roche was quick to raise a hand and gesture him to silence. When she had his attention, she pointed along the tunnel.
He instantly realized what she meant. “Quick,” he said softly, reaching out with his arm. “No time for a harness. Put your arm about my neck.”
She did so, and Emmerik grunted with effort as he straightened, lifting her off the ground. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on holding onto his coverall as he slowly climbed upward. The ladder strained under their weight but held nonetheless. Awkwardly, they moved up and out of the cavern, swaying slowly from side to side as Emmerik constantly shifted his balance.
“How many?” Emmerik whispered as they slipped through the narrow opening and into the confined space that led to the surface.
“Too far away to tell,” said Roche. The calm of his voice surprised her. “But I think at least two—maybe the two from the ambush. They were talking to someone on a radio.”
“Great,” Emmerik muttered.
The footsteps from below grew steadily louder; the opening above them seemed impossibly distant.
The Mbatan fumbled a handhold and grunted under his breath. Roche gasped as they swung for a second from his other hand, until he regained his grip and took another step upward.
“Almost there...” His tone reflected her own doubts.
The voices from the tunnel took on an urgent note as the Enforcers came near enough to make out the dancing base of the ladder. The sturdy Mbatan began to move faster, muscles bunching in his back as he moved his hands from rung to rung. His lungs wheezed with the effort.
The Prodigal Sun Page 11