Evergence: The Prodigal Sun

by Sean Williams

  "Really? Veden and Maii I was expecting. The other, however, is a complete unknown." Turning to Cane, he tapped his teeth with his fingertips. They made a soft clinking noise, as though his fingers were made of plastic, not flesh.

  Cane returned his steady gaze without blinking.

  "You look like a soldier," said Haid. "Are you an Armada officer?"

  "I have no allegiance to the Commonwealth of Empires."

  "A bounty hunter, then? Or a mercenary?"

  "No."

  "A spy?"

  "No."

  "Then what are you? You're not a transportee, I can tell that much."

  "I don't know what I am. A refugee, perhaps."

  "I find it difficult to imagine what you would be seeking refuge from." Haid smiled. "Emmerik describes your strength with some awe. Yet you expect me to believe that it is simply a natural ability?"

  "He was pulled from a survival capsule before we jumped to the Hutton-Luu System," Roche said. "He has no memory of the time before then. Just his name. If you don't believe me, ask Maii."

  "Oh, I will." Haid's eyes didn't shift from his examination of Cane. The reave herself made no sound. "Interesting," Haid continued, still talking to Cane. "If you aren't with the Armada, why are you on Roche's side?"

  Cane shrugged. "Expediency. It seemed appropriate when I first met her, and still does."

  "A natural soldier with no orders, no past, latching onto the first officer he comes across? Is that the whole truth?"

  "Yes." Cane's voice was even and unfazed.

  Haid rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll need more than that. The stories are too wild for me to believe without evidence. Will you submit to a physical examination?"

  Cane glanced at Roche, who nodded. This coincided with her own desire to find out more about Cane — and his origins.

  "Good. Now we're getting somewhere." Haid leaned forward to run his hand along the edge of his desk. "I must admit, though, you make me nervous. You arrive on this planet, possibly the most potent task force I've ever seen, and refuse to answer my questions. I'm sure you can appreciate my frustration."

  Roche frowned. "Are you suggesting — ?"

  "Cane with his natural strength and combat abilities, Maii with her mind power, your AI's apparent ability to manipulate the systems of hostile parties, and you, perhaps the leader and coordinator — how could I not be nervous with you sitting on the other side of my desk?"

  "If we wanted to overthrow you, or infiltrate you, we could have made a move by now, and you know it. Besides, you invited Maii and Veden here."

  "True." He said this thoughtfully. "Did they tell you why?"

  "No."

  "Can you guess?"

  "Something to do with Maii's talents and Veden's negotiating skills, I imagine. I'm assuming you're not planning to control Warden Delcasalle directly." She shrugged lightly. "That's all I've managed to work out so far."

  Haid smiled. "Emmerik trusts you. He told you about the need for a High Equity Court hearing to discuss our ownership of this planet. If Maii still won't tell you after this meeting, then that's the only clue I'll give you."

  Roche sighed. She could understand his position, but that didn't mean she liked it. She was sick of fighting for every step and meeting obstacles everywhere she turned. Most of all, she lacked Cane's apparently indefatigable patience.

  "Okay," said Haid, obviously tiring of letting the conversation wander, "here's the way it stands. You have to convince me, A, that I can help you without putting myself at risk, and B, that I should help you in the first place. You have to tell me what you want, then we'll negotiate."

  "Fair enough." She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I need to send a message to my superiors in Intelligence HQ informing them of the situation in Port Parvati."

  "How do you propose to do that?"

  "By gaining access to a high-power hyperspace transmitter, preferably one with encryption facilities."

  "Relatively simple, it seems." Haid's fingers tapped a tune out upon the table. "Problem number one: there is only one such transmitter on Sciacca's World, and that belongs to the wardens. Problem number two: the only access to it is from within the landing field itself, well out of harm's way inside the MiCom installation. Three: even if you could get in, how do you expect to override the security systems designed to prevent such unauthorised transmissions? Four: you'll need my help to get at it, and I'm not yet convinced you deserve it."

  "One and two we can deal with later," Roche responded, "when you give us more information. Four is up to you to decide. Three is this."

  Rising to her feet in one smooth motion, she raised the battered valise and slammed it onto the desk. Haid jumped back involuntarily, and Sabra reached into her tunic and quickly withdrew a pistol. Before she had a chance to react, however, Cane had also risen from his chair and kicked the weapon from the woman's hand.

  Haid's sudden shock evaporated just as quickly when his eyes settled upon the valise Roche had placed before him. "The AI, I presume," he said.

  Sabra, nursing her hand, collected her pistol and, at Haid's instruction, slid it beneath her tunic. Only then did Cane return to his own seat.

  Roche reached across the desk for the computer terminal and placed her hand on the palm-link.

  "Box? Go to work."

  A moment later, an artificial voice spoke from the terminal itself.

  "Communications established. Nice work, Morgan. You have placed us right into the heart of the resistance. Very well done indeed."

  Another look of concern briefly crossed Haid's black face, but it quickly yielded to curiosity. "This is the device you used to take control of the Enforcement vessel over Houghton's Cross?"

  "With it," said Roche, "we can do whatever we like to the wardens, once we get in."

  "Which explains why they want you." Haid nodded. "Did you steal it?"

  "Nothing so dramatic. I was carrying it back to Intelligence HQ when the Dato ambushed us here."

  "But how did the Dato know you were coming?" he asked. "Or expect to get away with it?"

  "Courtesy of the wardens, as I said. They're as corrupt as hell. I can't hand it over to them — they'll just sell it to the Dato Bloc — so I've got to call for help. Which means getting into the landing field. And that's where you come in."

  "Perhaps." Haid knitted his fingers together and leaned back in the chair. "Go on."

  "If we can signal the Armada, they can send reinforcements."

  "Perhaps you can even get off-planet first, and then signal for help."

  "Impossible," interrupted the Box.

  "Oh?" Haid leaned forward. "It would seem to be the safest option. It would avoid having to hold the landing field until reinforcements arrive."

  "Not under the circumstances," the Box continued. "The Dato have imposed a blockade on Sciacca's World. Any unauthorised and uninspected departures will be shot down before reaching orbit."

  "How do you know that?" Haid regarded the valise with suspicion.

  "Your information network has failed to penetrate the wardens' higher security, but it does have access to the landing field's flight schedule. All flights have been cancelled or severely delayed pending Morgan's capture."

  Haid's smile tightened. "Drastic steps," he said. "This changes everything. Perhaps you're more trouble than you're worth."

  "Your options are limited," said Roche. "You could kill us, or try to. You saw how we dealt with the Enforcement squadron; could you do any better? Or you could let us go and risk us being captured."

  "I have copied your security files," added the Box. "My capture would mean the complete and utter destruction of everything you have built."

  Haid paled at this. "Or I agree to help you."

  "Precisely," cooed the Box.

  Haid rubbed his hand across his chin. "But what's in it for me? How do I benefit? Apart from not being destroyed, I mean."

  "I can help you attack the wardens," said Roche. "They are co
rrupt, the enemies of both of us. They deserve to be brought to justice."

  "So you'll get a medal, and I'll get — what?"

  "Revenge, at least," said Roche. "I'm hardly in a position to promise a reduction in your sentence."

  "That's not what I want." Haid's sigh was deep and thoughtful, but his good humor was returning. "I never thought I'd hear an Armada officer swearing revenge on her fellows."

  "I never thought I'd be doing it myself." Roche nodded and stepped away from the desk, severing contact with the palm-link. "But they're not my fellows, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't associate me with them."

  "I'll try to remember." Haid glanced at Sabra, who was still rubbing at her hand where Cane had kicked it. His one good eye crinkled with amusement. "Well, you have me fascinated, Commander Roche. I was just about ready to turn you in when you arrived, but you've convinced me to reconsider.

  "I suggest we all need time to think about our positions. Not long, though. If the Dato become impatient, who knows what they'll do?" Haid stood. "We'll meet again in six hours. Sabra, please show our guests to somewhere they can rest. Instruct Sylvester Teh to conduct an examination of Cane as soon as possible. And there may be other minor injuries requiring attention."

  The sour-faced woman nodded briskly but said nothing.

  "Wait," said Roche. "What about Veden? What's happening to him?"

  "He's undergoing surgery. Our physician has been discussing his case with Maii while we talked. She can keep you updated in her own time." Haid held out his hand to her. "But thanks for asking. I'm relieved to see your concern for your companions, even for those that wish you harm."

  Roche took the resistance leader's hand. The feel of his fingers convinced her of what she had suspected: the limb was artificial. Now that she saw him standing, she also realised that his other arm was missing entirely.

  Haid noted the direction of her gaze. "Perhaps, when we meet again, we can exchange stories."

  Roche held his monocled stare. "Perhaps."

  With a slow-lidded wink, Haid bowed and left the room.

  12

  Sciacca's World

  Port Parvati

  '954.10.32 EN

  1795

  The hill was bald, stony, and round. A fringe of grey, long-stemmed grass ringed its base, lending it a striking resemblance to an Eckandi's skull. The view was extensive, even though the summit wasn't particularly high, with uniformly flat plains leading to a knife-edge horizon in every direction. The cold blue of the sky was dotted with small islands of cloud, and between them glimmered a handful of nearby stars that defied the light of the weak, white sun.

  As she stood there watching through another's eyes, the largest of these stars, Kabos, winked once, twice, and then went out.

  She buried her hands into the deep pockets of her thick overcoat and sighed.

  "Child, we have been working together for ... how long?"

  She turned out of politeness to face the owner of the voice, and saw herself echo the movement through his eyes. she said.

  "And in all that time, have I ever betrayed you?"

  She hesitated, even though there was no doubt in her mind.

  The Eckandi nodded. "Not once."

  Not for the first time, she cursed the fact that she couldn't see his face when they were alone.

  "Because nothing has happened — yet. I — " He stopped. For a moment the only sound was that of the wind whipping across the skull of the hill. "I've been struck from the Commerce Artel," he said at last, the words a long, slow exhalation of shame.

  She gasped, despite herself.

  "No, let me finish. It gets worse." She waited, wondering how it could get worse. "Remember that offer we had from the Hutton-Luu System? The job we refused?"

 

  "Well, the Axis felt otherwise." She could sense the discomfort swell beneath his words. "They advised me to take it. What with this" — he waved vaguely at the now-invisible star — "they said I need to prove myself again; that I had to demonstrate to them that I still have what it takes."

  she protested.

  "But it didn't," he cut in. "It happened to me." He paused before continuing, his breath catching in the sudden breeze. "Anyway, when I refused to comply to their 'recommendation', they stripped me of my rank, ordered criminal proceedings to begin, and charged me with first-degree fraud."

  She shuddered at this: fraud was the most serious crime a delegate of the Commerce Artel could be accused of. In their books, not even murder rated above bad business.

 

  "The COE transport arrives in a week." He laughed his wheezing, exotic laugh while she struggled to take in what he was saying. "That's right. I'm to be transported to the penal colony as a convict. A free ticket to exactly where they want me — and the only way I can escape is by doing what they want me to." Although she couldn't see it, she felt him shake his head. "I've been set up, Maii. And I didn't even see it coming."

  She waited in silence as he breathed his bitterness into the wind. The plan he had devised was in his mind — only half finalised, but she could read it clearly. When she sensed that he was about to ask the question foremost on his mind, she preempted him easily:

 

  She sensed the relief this aroused in him. "There are no guarantees — "

  she said.

  He squeezed her shoulder. "You know you don't owe me anything, child," he said. "But I'm glad you feel that way. The truth is, there's no way I can make it through this without you."

  She reached out to take his hand.

  He turned his eyes again heavenward. The star called Kabos had reappeared, although now it burned a deep, angry red. It brightened visibly as they watched, until it flared and became too bright to stare at directly.

  "Come on," he said, glancing down the hill. For the first time she noticed the trio of Olmahoi greyboots waiting for him at the hive's massive entrance. "We need to get below ground. The shock wave won't be far away."

  She nodded, allowing him to lead her down the hill, and ...

  * * * *

  Roche woke with a gasp.

  Sitting upright on the narrow bunk, she put a hand to her forehead, trying to massage away the intrusive thoughts, to free herself of the last threads of the dream. Except it wasn't a dream. She was sure of that. It was something else entirely, a memory that belonged to someone else ...

  A supernova in colonised space — a population huddling underground because a shield supplied by the Eckandar Trade Axis had failed — the Commerce Artel delegate responsible tried and found guilty of fraud —

  It was all so familiar; something she had come across recently while on the Midnight. She was certain the IDnet news reports had mentioned it on a number of occasions: Ede System, one of the Olmahoi provinces near the Commonwealth of Empires border, had been an insignificant backwater until it became the victim of a stellar disturbance and was nearly destroyed by the failure of a planetary shield.

  And the name of the Artel delegate responsible for the sale of that shield had been — Makil Veden.

  How could she not have connected the name sooner?

  Completely awake, she looked around. Struggling from the thin, dirty mattress, she saw Maii sitting cross-legged on the upper bunk, features completely still. Whether she was asleep or meditating, Roche couldn't tell. Either way, she didn't acknowledge Roche's anger.

  Roche was tempted to reach up and rouse the Surin but, sighing, decided against it. For the firs
t time in what seemed like weeks, Roche felt alone — despite the young girl's presence in the room — and she found herself welcoming the solitude.

  The room was small and practical, containing only a narrow double bunk and primitive toilet facilities. Minutes after Sabra had brought her to it, Roche had fallen into a deep sleep, blaming fatigue for her sudden and overwhelming tiredness. Now she wasn't so sure ...

  "You awake, Commander?"

  The voice, from the door, broke the quiet Roche had been enjoying. She crossed the short distance to see who it was.

  "Sorry to disturb you," said Haid, his scarred, black face smiling at her. He was dressed in loose-fitting, black casuals that might once have been a shipsuit. "I was hoping to talk to you."

  Roche shrugged aside her irritation. "Likewise. But give me a moment."

  "Of course." He averted his eyes while she dressed and changed the sling on her left arm. Maii didn't move once, and Roche decided not to disturb her. If the girl really was asleep, then she obviously needed it. Accusations of mental tampering could wait until later — until she had decided which she was most angry about: the way the Surin's memories had been thrust into her thoughts, or the abrupt way in which her own had been suppressed.

  When she was ready, the rebel leader took her through a series of dimly lit tunnels and chambers. The subterranean headquarters was busier than she had assumed it would be — containing the homes of hundreds of people, as well as rudimentary markets, hospitals, industries, and entertainment facilities; as though a miniature city had grown around the rebel installation. In one large room they passed, at least fifty people had gathered to dine together; the smell of roasted meat caused Roche to hesitate at the entrance.

  Haid took her arm to encourage her on. "We'll eat soon," he said, smiling. "I promise."

  "As long as it is soon," she said. Haid led her down a flight of curving, narrow stairs. The deeper they went, the damper the walls became, as though they were approaching some sort of water table. Yet, when she stopped to test the moisture with a fingertip, she realised that the source of the water was industrial rather than natural. It had a bitter, pungent smell.