She didn’t need to interpret that. As a member of one of the Great Families, he’d have gotten off.
“She couldn’t get it to trial, so she tried to kill him. She tried a couple of times. She nearly succeeded, so Yves asked me to stand in for him at a function he had to attend. I needed the money. Except . . . the girl’s mother was as insane as Yves was. She booby-trapped the hotel where we were to change places. Killed herself and Yves and fifty other people as well.”
“So you pretended to be him?” She hadn’t known Han long, but he didn’t seem the sort.
“The hospital got the records mixed. They thought I was Yves. I spent six months in hospital having my body rebuilt.”
DNA was linked to one’s identity at birth. There was no way the hospital could have mixed the records.
Han finally looked at her. “It sounds like an excuse, I know, but I lost my memory for a while. Or not so much lost it, but I got really confused because everyone was treating me like Yves, and I knew these people. I remembered them. I remembered having dinner with them. When I finally realized what had happened, I tried to tell them. A number of times, but something always came up, and we never got to the important part. Then I . . . stopped telling them.”
His comms vibrated again. Han cut the call off.
“Sometimes I get a guilty conscience, but . . . I don’t know. They get distressed when I talk about it.”
Twelve years, he’d said. It was a long time to get away with pretending to be someone else. A long time to do it without being caught. The notes on Radko’s comms said Han had joined the Lancian fleet eleven and a half years prior.
“So you joined the fleet.”
“I thought that would solve things. It made it worse. And every time I go home—”
“But you do go home?”
Han shrugged.
“How often?”
“I’m at the barracks. We do three tendays, then ten days off.”
Every break, in other words.
“I know. But I couldn’t up and leave, and Annie is going through a stage right now, and Mother gets worried if I don’t.” Han shrugged again. “It’s hard to cut off.”
Even if the hospital had mistaken his identity, the fleet had rigorous security checks. The Great Families protected their progeny carefully. The DNA check for entry to the fleet should have exposed Han as an imposter. Yet it hadn’t.
“Radko, court-martial me, do whatever you need to, but don’t tell my parents. Please. They don’t deserve it.”
What if his parents already knew? Someone like Renaud Han had the contacts to change DNA records.
She didn’t promise. She couldn’t, for after this, she planned on visiting Amina and Renaud to see what they did know.
If she was allowed back on Lancia.
“I have to tell my boss,” she said. “I’m here to test out a particular ability Yves had that you don’t.”
“That he could torture people better than me?”
Who knew what Han might do now that she knew his secret? Maybe it was time to share some secrets of her own. “He spent ten years at House of Sandhurst training to be a linesman.”
“The doctors in the hospital explained that, before I regained my memory. It was the shock, they said. I might never regain my line abilities.”
Radko laughed. “That won’t gel with my boss. She’ll observe you for five minutes, then she’ll turn around and shoot you, for she’ll know you never were a linesman, and therefore, aren’t Yves Han. I’d rather tell her first. The Han family have influence.” She stood up and stretched. “She’s not a bad boss. A bit crusty, but okay for all that.” Better than anyone had expected, but they should have trusted Abram Galenos to pick the right person. Even if, like everyone else, Radko would have preferred that Abram had stayed.
“That good, huh?”
“She’s good, but everyone on ship will know. If—” She remembered in time not to mention Vega’s name. Han had worked for Vega for two years. He’d have noted her promotion, would know for whom she worked now. “If my boss doesn’t kill you, the rest of my team certainly will.” In their job, someone pretending to be a linesman would be trying to get onto one of the alien ships.
“All in five minutes?”
“All in five minutes,” Radko confirmed.
“What? They walk around with portable Havortian test kits?”
“Nothing so overt as that.” She tapped the comms he was turning over in his hands. “They will see that you are naturally right-handed. They will ask what you see and hear.” If he was near an alien ship. “And they will hear you sing.”
“I’m doing the singing in five minutes?”
“Most definitely.”
“So I walk on ship. You said it was a ship?”
She nodded.
“Singing, and holding something.”
“Han, you holster your blaster right-handed.”
“Oh.” Han was quiet a moment. “And the singing?”
“Maybe ten minutes.” More like an hour, given Vega would want to talk to him first.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She hoped her trust wasn’t misplaced. “Han. It’s a simple test, but it’s classified. If you mention it to anyone, I’ll bring up the secrecy act. And maybe I’ll shoot you.”
He’d been smiling. He stopped. “And you tell me this secret just after I tell you I’m not the person I’m pretending to be. Very funny. Even I got taken in.”
He’d come around. Radko made her voice hard. “Don’t mention what we talked about to anyone but me, Spacer Han. That’s an order.”
* * *
VAN Heel found an old, out-of-the way shuttle field halfway across the continent. It was busier than the one on Barth, but busy meant twenty ships a week, and it was cargo only. Radko used van Heel’s comms—for her own was the contact for Tiana Chen in Callista OneLane’s files—to order a box of fresh shellfish to be delivered there. The shuttle pilot was to collect a package from the same shuttleport. This parcel was then to be delivered, along with another box of shellfish, to the Factor of the Lesser Gods as congratulations on his forthcoming nuptials. The pickup from Redmond was to ensure that the same ship carried both orders.
Both orders were coded for urgent delivery.
“I hope that’s not coming out of my credit,” van Heel said, as Radko handed the comms back.
“It’s coming out of our operations budget.”
“You can always put in a chit for it if it does,” Chaudry said. “We get that all the time in Stores. People charging things to the wrong account. It’s form 55735.”
“Wait,” Han said. “You’re telling me we have more than fifty-five thousand forms?”
“I’ve filled out about fifty thousand of them,” van Heel said. “Intelligence likes to track where their money goes.”
Radko had filled out the occasional order, but not many. “You should go onto a battleship. Not as many forms there.”
“Are you kidding? That’s worst of all.”
Chaudry nodded glum agreement. “All the time. And we have to audit 5 percent of them.”
“Audit?”
“What ship do you come from?”
Definitely not a ship where you filled out forms for everything. But then, no doubt Captain Helmo had that in hand. Radko would have to find out. “If anyone has to fill out a form for it, I’ll do it.”
She turned to van Heel. “Can you disable the tracker in the aircar?”
She nodded.
“Good. Not in the city,” for in a populous area an aircar without a tracker was guaranteed to draw the attention of the police. “We’ll stop somewhere along the way and take it out.”
It was crazy to realize that it would take almost a full day for them to get to the cargo field. Around the same amount of time it
would take a spaceship to get to Lancia, load some shellfish, jump, and send a shuttle to land on Redmond.
“Han, you can call Gunter Wong on the way. Let’s go, people.”
* * *
THE call to Lancia had a lag time of fifteen minutes.
That was unexpected. The lag between Redmond and Lancia had always been at least two hours. In wartime, it should be longer still. Radko checked to be sure the call really was going to Lancia. It was.
“Han.” Gunter Wong’s smile was wide and relieved. “Your father has been trying to contact you.” The smile changed to concern. “What’s wrong with you? Are you in hospital? Who is your doctor?”
Han looked startled.
“You’re in disguise, dummy,” van Heel hissed.
“Oh. No, Gunter, I’m fine. This is just a disguise. I’m supposed to look like this. I’m working undercover, and have been out of contact.”
Cross-sector messages were always a little schizophrenic. Because of the lag, you fitted as much into the conversation as you could before the other person received it.
“We sent through an order.” Han glanced at van Heel’s screen. “WhiteRiver Company has ordered some Gippian shellfish for their base here at Redmond, and another order to go to the Factor of the Lesser Gods on Aeolus. We’re hoping we can travel with the shellfish. That is, four passengers.”
Fifteen minutes later, Wong’s reply came back. Warm and reassuring, “Of course, Yves. But where are you? Your family is frantic. Your father called the barracks, and they told him you were on indefinite leave owing to personal issues. Are you sure you’re well?”
“I’m fine. I’m working.” That answer wouldn’t get back to Wong for another fifteen minutes.
“If you have problems, you know you can go home to them.”
Han rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine, Gunter. I just need passage off Redmond for myself and my friends. We’re hoping to catch the shuttle your pilot brings the shellfish down in. It will need to carry at least four people. And we’ll need to be able to book passage on the ship.”
“I like your family,” Chaudry said, as they waited for the signal to return to Lancia and for Wong to reply.
“Me too, Chaudry. Me too.” Han glanced at Radko, looked away.
If Renaud and Amina Han knew he wasn’t their true son, and were complicit in whatever had happened, Radko wasn’t going to give him away.
By the time the next message arrived, Gunter Wong had someone with him.
“Papa,” Han said, but that wouldn’t get back for another fifteen minutes either.
How close were Gunter and Renaud, for Gunter to be able to call, and get, his neighbor over in less than half an hour?
Renaud Han looked haggard. “Yves. If there’s a ransom, we will pay it.”
“A ransom?”
Why would Han’s father assume such a thing?
“No one said anything about a ransom, Papa. I’m working.”
On a job that was getting more farcical by the minute. The longer this call went on, the more likely Redmond was to track it. Radko made winding motions with her finger.
Han nodded. “We need.” His voice caught and he paused to breathe deeply before he could continue. “We need to get off this world. We sent an order through to Gunter. We want to travel with that order. We called hoping to fast-track the order, and to ensure we could get passage with it. Please, Papa.”
Did he realize he’d added that last “please”?
This time, while they waited for the reply, Han muted the microphone on his comms. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Whatever we do,” van Heel said, “let’s not tell anyone we called your dad and asked him to get us out of trouble.”
Even Radko managed a chuckle.
Van Heel added, “Provided he stops panicking enough to help us out, that is.”
“I like him,” Chaudry said. “He’s worried.”
“Yes, but why, Chaudry? It’s a simple request. Please can you use your contacts to push this order through. Oh, and can you also make sure that whatever ship you send to do it picks up four passengers as well.” Van Heel held out her hands, palms up. “Yet this man is running around in circles. Both of them are. Haven’t you ever been away from home before, Han?”
“Of course I have. I work in Baoshan. My family lives in Han Province.”
“Never off world then?”
“I’ve only been off world once,” Chaudry said. “When I went to . . .” He trailed away. Radko strained to hear and thought the mumble ended in “Isador.”
Chaudry had spent six years as a trainee linesman at House of Isador.
“We travel,” Han said.
As van Heel had said, Han’s request was simple enough. So why had Renaud and Gunter reacted the way they had? What was Radko missing?
Han blew on his fingers as if they were cold. He said to Radko, “My father’s not normally—”
She nodded and cut off the rest of the apology with a motion of her hand. “If you can find out why he’s concerned, do so, but I want you to wrap it up next time through. We can’t talk much longer without Redmond picking up the signal.” She looked at van Heel. “Let me know when they do pick us up. And disable the tracker as of now.”
Han and van Heel both nodded.
It was closer to major population areas than she would have liked, but it might delay anyone associating this particular aircar with the call to Lancia. Redmond couldn’t track the signal through their ops comms, for autolocation had been turned off, but they could triangulate the call, then slowly check the aircars one by one.
They waited in silence for the return message. It wasn’t any less puzzling than the earlier communications.
Renaud struggled to speak. “I don’t know what lies they used to get you to Redmond, Yves, but they’re lying to you.”
Gunter Wong cut in. “Don’t do what they’re asking, Yves. It’s a trap. Cancel this order. They’re setting you up. The Factor is allergic to shellfish. Sending a gift like this. It’s as if you’re threatening his life. If you accompany that delivery, they’re sending you to your death.”
Maybe that was all they were worried about. If Wong was correct about the allergies, then delivering the shellfish to the Factor would be perceived as a threat. But why all the talk about ransom payments at the start of the conversation? Worse, not only had Renaud confirmed that they were on Redmond; Wong had told the enemy where they planned to go next.
“Yves,” Renaud said urgently, “I’ve contacted someone at Fleet Headquarters. They’ll know what to do. They’ll get you out of it.”
Radko nearly groaned aloud.
Van Heel caught her eye, pointed to the screen. “Aircraft.”
Closing in fast. That kind of speed meant military.
It was too soon for the military to have triangulated them. Too soon, even for Renaud Han’s well-meaning—if misguided—request for help from Fleet Headquarters to have been intercepted by a Redmond spy.
“Wrap this up, Han,” Radko said.
Han swallowed hard. “Papa, Gunter, I have to go. But please don’t cancel that shipment.” He clicked off.
“What weapons have we got?” Radko asked although she already knew. One tranq gun, six blasters, and a Pandora field diffuser.
She switched to one of the downward-facing cameras, to see what type of country they were flying over. Rocky outcrops.
“Can you set us down anywhere, van Heel?” On the ground they’d be stationary targets, but if the aircraft shot them out of the air, it would be worse. “Better yet, how far away are we from a town or city?”
Maybe they wouldn’t have to fight it out at all if they could hide.
“Fifty kilometers from a twenty-person settlement, three hundred from one with twenty thousand.”
You couldn’t hide among
twenty people.
“They might not be after us,” Chaudry said.
It wouldn’t matter. As soon as they got close enough to see the aircar, they’d stop it because no one went anywhere without a tracker.
“Maybe we should ask Han’s family to pay Redmond off,” van Heel said. “Since they’re so ready to butt in.”
“That was uncalled for,” Radko said. “Especially since I was the one who asked for it.”
“My family would help,” Chaudry said. “If they could.”
“We don’t need amateurs,” van Heel said. “Not from anyone’s family, and I’m pleased to say that mine wouldn’t. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years, anyway.”
“Clearly you don’t move in the circles I do,” Han said. “We ask each other for favors all the time.”
He was right. Life was one massive game of requests and counterrequests.
Radko ignored the conversation going on behind her as she decided the odds.
The only weapon that might be of any use against another aircar was the Pandora field diffuser. They were designed for use in space, placed on the outside of ships to destroy tiny dust particles and meteor clouds before they got close enough to damage the ship. Radko needed a stable surface to concentrate the beam and to have something large to aim at. A diffuser at its normal setting could destroy micron-sized particles but nothing larger.
“Keep going for the moment,” Radko said. “Head toward the larger town.”
Van Heel changed course.
The aircraft behind them changed course, too.
Radko blew her breath out in a hiss. That wasn’t triangulation. “They’re tracking us.”
Van Heel checked. “The tracker is disabled.”
“Something is emitting a signal. Change course to the smaller town. Then see if you can find what it’s using to track us.”
Van Heel reset the course. The aircars followed. She rummaged through her bag of technology. “I’m sure I brought—” She pulled a small meter out triumphantly. “I did.”
She set it up rapidly.
“Han, Chaudry,” Radko said. “Check your weapons. I want them ready to use.”
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