Shooting the Rift - eARC

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Shooting the Rift - eARC Page 28

by Alex Stewart


  I hesitated, wasting precious nanoseconds trying to pick a likely target. The sheer quantity of information was working against me, and I was just about to grab a file at random and cross my fingers that it contained something worthwhile when I noticed a log of ship movements in and out of the base. That would be gold dust if I could get it back to my aunt; I had no doubt that an analyst of her caliber, and the people she worked for, would be able to deduce a vast amount about the League’s strategic aims and state of preparedness from the raw data, especially if it included details of the vessels’ destinations. I grabbed that too, and prepared to cut myself loose.

  Then, at the last minute, I remembered my promise to Baines. There had to be something here I could give him to trade with Remington. I dithered again, then pounced on a list of cargo brokers in systems outside the League who were being paid substantial retainers to expedite shipments of materials the Navy wanted to get its hands on—which probably overlapped with parts of their intelligence gathering network too, come to think of it, another welcome surprise for Aunt Jenny. A few quiet words in their offices ought to ensure a steady stream of lucrative cargoes for the Stacked Deck if I was any judge of how the skipper liked to do business; something that was bound to occur to him if the list was waved under his nose.

  Right, that would do: if I got caught now I’d be in serious trouble, and there was no sense in pushing my luck. I disengaged from the node, stretched out on the bed, and started to sort through my spoils.

  As it turned out, I didn’t get nearly as far as I’d expected before my body decided it had had more than enough to put up with for one day, and shut itself down while the toxins got on with working their way out of my system. After half an hour of sifting through the data I’d pilfered I was beginning to yawn in earnest, not just for effect when the corpsman stuck his head round the door to see how I was getting on, and my thoughts were running noticeably slower than they normally did. According to the biomonitor the levels of toxin in my blood were dropping rapidly, something I was able to empirically confirm by the way my jaw was opening more widely with every yawn, and the fact that I could see reasonably well out of both eyes by now. So I decided to give way to the inevitable, and allowed myself to doze off.

  I was woken by the sound of the door opening, and sat up, expecting to see the corpsman again; though my eyes opened more or less fully this time, it still took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t him.

  “Hi,” I said, blinking in perplexity. “What are you doing here?”

  “Guess,” Jas said, walking fully into the room. She stared at me for a moment, then suppressed a smile. “You look terrible.”

  “You should see me from this side,” I said.

  “Right.” She sat on the end of the bed, and examined me critically. “They tell me you’re on the mend.”

  “The corpsman gave me some sort of antidote,” I said. “They had it all ready, just in case Ertica touched somebody else. Luckily for me.”

  “The way I heard it, you touched her,” Jas said, her voice carefully neutral.

  “Purely by accident,” I said, a little more defensively than I’d intended.

  “So I heard.” Jas didn’t sound all that convinced. “And just how do you accidentally get your face stuck down a woman’s cleavage?”

  “Believe me, it wasn’t as much fun as it sounds,” I said. “Clio punched me.”

  Jas nodded. “Getting a bit jealous, was she?”

  “Of course not,” I said, stunned by the absurdity of the idea. “We’re just friends. Most of the time, anyway. What would she have to be jealous about?”

  “Oh, Si.” Jas shook her head pityingly. You really shouldn’t be allowed out on your own.”

  “Well, I’m not,” I pointed out, with perhaps a little more asperity than I should have done. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

  “To escort you back?” Jas nodded. “Do you want something to eat first?”

  “Why not?” Now that she came to mention it, I found I was feeling a lot more hungry than I’d realized. I swung my feet to the floor, and stood; rather too quickly, apparently, as a wave of dizziness swept over me. For a moment I thought I was going to collapse back onto the bed, but Jas was suddenly there, moving with the preternatural swiftness I’d noticed before. An arm went round my waist, and she leaned her shoulder in beneath mine, so my own arm draped itself limply around her neck.

  I was abruptly aware of the warmth of her body against mine, and the whisper of her breath against my ear. Then I found my balance, standing firmly on my feet again, but neither of us seemed particularly inclined to break free.

  “Okay now?” Jas asked after a moment, her voice unnaturally brisk and businesslike.

  “Fine.” I could feel her heartbeat throbbing against my ribcage, in almost perfect synchronization with my own. If this was a virt, I thought, we’d stand there like that for moment or two, gazing into one another’s eyes, then lean in for a kiss. But it wasn’t, of course. What actually happened was that we stared at each other for a couple of seconds, then broke apart, looking at the air next to one another’s faces in mutual embarrassment.

  “Right. Food.” Jas broke the awkward silence, and held the door open for me.

  “Food. Good idea,” I said, trying not to think about the way her body had felt pressed against my own. Once again I found myself wondering how things would have been between us if the circumstances of our meeting had been different, and regretting that we’d never get the chance to find out. I blinked the last of the blurring from my eyes, and belatedly realized that, though dressed in her usual fatigues, she wasn’t wearing her body armor, or carrying a gun. “Are you off duty now?”

  “Technically.” She followed me into the corridor outside, and I turned left, back towards the examination room and the entrance I’d come in by. “But I thought you’d prefer to see a friendly face when your vision cleared, so I volunteered to pick you up.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said, sincerely.

  “Good. This way.” She turned, and started off down the corridor in the opposite direction. I felt a sudden irrational impulse to make a break for it, but suppressed it firmly: there was no point in even trying. She was faster and stronger than I was, and even if she hadn’t been, there were so many other service people around I’d be brought down within a matter of moments. Rather more cogently, though, it would shatter any trust that had started to grow between us, along with our nascent friendship. Which I really didn’t want to think about too closely; it was true I’d started to cultivate her purely as a means to an end, to try to get to a node, but I’d quickly begun to like her, and enjoy her company. If she ever realized how duplicitous I’d been she’d be badly and justifiably hurt, and I didn’t want that on my conscience, any more than I wanted to lose her friendship. And realizing that had just made me feel guilty about exploiting her in the first place.

  I wondered how other agents in my position dealt with that kind of thing. Were they able to compartmentalize their own feelings and the needs of the mission, so they simply didn’t affect each other, or were they unfeeling sociopaths, who just didn’t give a damn? Either way, I didn’t feel too comfortable about joining their ranks.

  “We’re here,” Jas said, breaking into my thoughts. She cocked her head, looking at me curiously. “Penny for them?”

  “They’re not worth that much,” I said.

  Jas had led me to a commissary, crowded with men and women in uniform. No doubt I’d have learned a lot about what was going on in this part of the base if the variations and insignia had meant anything to me, but at the time I was too intent on keeping her in sight to take much notice of the people around me, or compare their shoulder flashes against the file I’d got stashed away somewhere in my ‘sphere. For the most part, like Jas, their tweaks weren’t visible to the naked eye, but one or two exceptions stood out; a few tails waved over the shoulders of seated diners, and a couple of people, their gender indeterminate, w
ere little more than stocky slabs of muscle, who looked to me like collateral damage looking for someone to happen to.

  My Guild patch and inflamed visage attracted a few curious glances, but, for the most part, we were left to find a quiet table with little fuss. I expanded my ‘sphere out of habit, but, of course, the serving drones weren’t designed with a neuroware interface in mind. “How do we order?” I asked.

  “Through this.” Jas pulled her handheld out of her pocket, and looked at me curiously for a moment, until realization dawned. “Oh. You don’t use these, do you?”

  “Not as a rule,” I said. “But I can’t mesh with the systems here.” She looked a little uncomfortable as I said that, suddenly reminded of the cultural gulf between us. “Does it bother you?” I asked. “Knowing I’ve got neuroware in my head?”

  “Not usually,” she admitted, tapping the little device, and launching a blurt of information at one of the hovering drones. Buoyed up by my success with the node, I couldn’t resist poking at it with my sneakware, but, just as before, the genetic code kept me out. “You look so normal, it’s easy to forget.”

  “I am normal,” I said. “But I know what you mean. When I look at you, I just see a person, not a tangle of transgener tweaks.”

  “Only a person?” She smiled wanly in response. “You really know how to flatter a girl.”

  “A lot more than just a person,” I admitted. “A woman I’d really like to get to know better.”

  Her smile grew brighter, like the sun beginning to break through a layer of cloud, but retained a rueful edge. “Be careful what you wish for, Si. A League soldier and a Commonwealther—could get messy, especially now.”

  “I’m not Commonwealth,” I said, “I’m a Guilder,” although a small part of me was wondering how much of that was actually true. I’d certainly gone to a great deal of trouble to follow through on my promise to Aunt Jenny, although technically I should have set any previous allegiances aside the moment I became a Guild apprentice.

  “You say that now,” Jas said, as a drone descended, depositing plates and drinks on the table between us. “But I imagine you’ll feel different when your mom’s in the firing line.”

  “You think it’ll come to that?” I asked, trying to keep the tone conversational. If she’d heard anything about the League’s plans for mobilization, asking her flat out about it would be certain to close down the topic.

  “I hope not,” she said, digging in to her food. She chewed and swallowed. “Bacon sandwich okay? I thought you’d prefer something simple, under the circumstances.”

  “Perfect,” I said, taking a bite of my own. I went on around a plug of masticated bread and pig flesh. “The League’s been demanding a Commonwealth withdrawal from Rockhall longer than either of us have even been alive.” Struck by a sudden thought, I gave her an appraising look. She might seem about the same age as me, but with all the tweaks I knew she’d had, it was hard to be sure: it was common knowledge even in the Commonwealth that it was possible to slow the aging process with the right transgenic modifications, and, despite the general disapproval of such things, there were always rumors about the rich and well-connected taking discreet trips to Numarkut to find out for themselves. “And the diplomats are still talking to each other.”

  “Yep.” Jas took a sip of her coffee. “They’re good at that. But if the Commonwealth won’t give us our planet back willingly, we won’t have much choice in the end.”

  “Your planet?” I asked. “Don’t the people who live there get a say?”

  Jas nodded. “I suppose they should do. Have a referendum or something. But the Commonwealth isn’t that big on democracy, is it?”

  “Of course it is,” I said, feeling I ought to defend my old home, even if I didn’t belong there any more. “We have elections.”

  “Do you?” Jas asked, sounding skeptical. “And how often did you vote? Oh, I forgot, men aren’t allowed to.”

  “That’s not true,” I said, a trifle defensively. I didn’t really feel comfortable discussing this. “Married men are. And widowers.”

  “And you really think that’s fair?” Jas asked. “How many men are there in Parliament?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “A few.”

  “And in government?”

  I shrugged again. “A few less.” I could see where she was heading with this, and decided to cut it off before we ended up arguing. “But it’s nothing to do with me any more. The Guild has its own way of doing things.”

  “If you say so,” Jas said, sounding less than convinced.

  “Of course we do,” I said, suddenly a good deal less sure than I sounded. Up until now I’d just gone along with things, picking up how they were done a piece at a time, but there was still a lot I didn’t know about how the Guild actually managed its affairs. On the other hand, whatever they did seemed to have worked for centuries, so they must be getting something right.

  So I shifted the conversation to safer topics, until the meal was over and it was time to return to the internment area.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  In which I discover a deception.

  I wasn’t sure what sort of a reception would be waiting for me when I got back to our quarters, but it was rather less fraught than I’d feared. Someone, possibly Jas, had seen to it that I was expected, and Remington, flanked by Rolf and Lena, was waiting by the pressure hatch when Jas escorted me through it. The presence of the transgener deckhands effectively kept anyone from the Ebon Flow determined to exact revenge for my squabble with Deeks at arms’ length, but in the event they seemed willing to let bygones be bygones; probably on the principle that nothing they could do to me could possibly be any worse than what I’d already gone through.

  “He’s all yours,” Jas said cheerfully, although whether she was talking to Remington or the guards on duty I couldn’t be sure. She grinned at me. “Be seeing you.”

  “You can count on that,” I agreed, and fought down the impulse to wave as she turned and disappeared though the hatch.

  “I’m sure she can,” Clio said, a little sourly, as she moved out of Lena’s shadow; until then I hadn’t noticed her presence among the welcoming committee.

  I stared at her in surprise, the conversation I’d had with Jas in the infirmary suddenly coming back to me. It was ridiculous, but, all the same. . . . “You’re not jealous, are you?” I asked, trying to inflect it like a joke.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Clio snapped, looking mortally offended. Rolf and Lena exchanged pitying looks, probably at my consequent embarrassment. Then her expression changed. “I’m sorry. I really came here to apologize.” She raised a tentative hand, and touched my inflamed cheek for a moment. “Does it hurt much?”

  “Hardly at all,” I said. “They gave me a tailored antitoxin. I should be back to normal in a day or two.”

  “I suppose I should say thank you as well,” Clio said, with a hint of reluctance. “If you hadn’t got in the way, I’d have been stung instead.”

  “I suppose so.” I shrugged. “But in that case I should say thanks to you, too, for rushing to my defense in the first place.”

  “I’d have done the same for any of my shipmates,” she said, which I suppose was truthful enough.

  But maybe not quite so fast, Rolf added, for my benefit alone.

  “Glad to have you back,” Remington said. “We had some news from the Guildhall while you were away.”

  “Good news?” I asked, although his expression was too sober for me to have much hope that it was.

  “Not really.” We began to walk back to our quarters. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Baines, and inclined my head briefly, in a manner I hoped would go unnoticed by my companions; I’d have preferred to send him a copy of the file I’d filched for him straight away, but with Rolf’s ‘sphere still overlapping my own, I didn’t want to take the chance of the transfer being noticed. That would lead to far too many questions. “The Leaguers are still convinced ther
e’s at least one Commonwealth agent among the crews with a Farland contract, and until they find them, or get some irrefutable evidence that there isn’t, no one’s going anywhere.”

  “Can they get away with that?” I asked, already knowing full well that they could. “Surely there’s something the Guildhall can do about it?”

  “Up to a point,” Remington said. “But there’s only so much pressure they’re willing to exert. Imposing any real sanctions will damage the business of every Guild crew in the system, which means reducing the Guildhall’s own tithes. And the Leaguers know that.”

  I nodded. “So we’re stuffed, basically.”

  “In the short term, pretty much,” Remington agreed. “They’ll cut a deal sooner or later, and we’ll get a nice big payoff for the time we’ve wasted kicking our heels here, but I’d be lying if I said this place is growing on me.”

  “Sooner we get to Freedom the better,” Lena agreed.

  Rolf nodded. “I’d kill for a night out at a decent opera house,” he said.

  “Right now I’d even settle for an evening at the burlesque,” Lena added, then smiled at his horrified expression. “Just kidding, dear.”

  “So I should hope,” Rolf said. “I grew out of being entertained by tricks with party balloons years ago.”

  “It’s not the balloons,” Remington said, with a faintly distant expression, “so much as what happens when they burst.”

  “Really don’t want to know,” Clio said firmly, leading the way into our quarters.

  “What happened after I left?” I asked, a few moments later, finding the two of us alone in the communal area. Rolf and Lena had disappeared into their room almost as soon as our feet crossed the threshold, and Remington had gone into a huddle with Sowerby, who wanted to go over some of the finer points of the latest report about the state of the systems aboard the Stacked Deck.

 

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