Horizons

by Mary Rosenblum

  Dead. Laif stared, stunned. “You shot to kill and you did it blind? What the hell are you up to?” He kicked off from the elevator, arrowed over to them.”What the hell is going on here?”

  “It was set on non-lethal.” The captain looked up, his own face reflecting shock. “Maximum, but not lethal.” He looked back at the narrow face and long, skinny torso, her breasts flat as any boy’s, her back gently arched, arms and legs drifting.

  “My God, what is it?” The captain’s voice grated with the revulsion visible on his face. “Who would do this?”

  “More.” One of the pair holding scanners spoke up.

  Dear gods, the whole family might be coming, maybe hoping to save this one? “Get out!” Laif yelled it at the top of his lungs, n longer giving a damn what the consequences were. “Now! Get out of here!”

  Too late. Koi burst from the leaves, his milky eyes wide, zoomming like an arrow straight at the cluster of CSF. The young latino-mix with the weapon pointed it casually…

  …and went tumbling wildly, weapon flying, as Dane hit him from the rear, shoulder first, slamming him into a head-over-heels tumble into the planted tubes. “Koi, go !” He pushed off a tube, ricocheted off another, oblivious to a dart as it zoomed past him, not guided, just aimed. Hit a woman with just the right angle to send her cartwheeling, caught another tube and pushed off, aiming like a thrown spear for the captain.

  A spot of bright orange appeared on his side.

  He spasmed, arms and legs flying out, back arching briefly ane terribly, muscles all jerking at once.

  Began to tumble, out of control spun by the captain and slammed into a tube planted to beets.

  Rebounded in a cloud of torn leaves and droplets of crimson juice. Like blood, Laif thought numbly. He pushed off, blocked his watchdog’s grab almost without thought, eyes on Dane’s slack tumble, head full of white noise and a howl of pain like an animal dying.

  Koi?

  Laif reached Dane a heartbeat before the CSF, slammed into his limp body, going too fast, arms going around him, tumbling with his limp sprawl into another tube, blinded by a flurry of ruined leaves. Feel for it, feel — He groped, fingers finding Dane’s throat, searching for a pulse even as hands closed on him like claws, reeling him in.

  “He’s alive, Koi,” Laif yelled. “Get out of here.”

  They hauled him off Dane and they weren’t gentle. Hung for a lamb, hung for a sheep, he thought and wondered for a flickering instant where the hell that saying had come from. Then he got a foot planted on a tube, slammed his forearm into the throat of the woman trying to twist his arm behind his back and had the small satisfaction of seeing her do a backward flip, struggling to breathe, before someone got a choke hold on him from behind. They won at that point, and when the blackness cleared from his vision, his hands were locked behind him and someone had just finished strapping his ankles together.

  “You just killed a person, a kid,” Laif rasped. “Hope you can justify child murder here.”

  The captain spared him one icy glance. “That’s not human.”

  ”You haven’t seen the DNA readout yet. Don’t get too cocky.”

  He didn’t know if the captain heard, or cared if he did. They weren’t going to look beyond that face, eyes and body. Not until they had the readout in their hands, and even then it was going to be hard.

  He knew that well enough. Sorry, Dane, he thought. I really tried. He twisted, trying to get himself drifting so he could see how Dane was doing. But then one of the CSF hauled him into view, heading for the elevator. They had put a restraint collar on him and a moment later, another of the ‘Keepers was locking one around his throat, too. The woman fit it snugly, not tight, making sure that they’d get good contact if they zapped him, Laif thought sourly. You couldn’t take these things off without a key. Not if you wanted to keep your head.

  They’d slapped a patch on Dane’s throat and he was coming around from the stun. They’d hit him with the top setting on the dart, Laif thought. He could have ended up like the girl. He watched Dane’s eyes focus, watched memory flush out confusion. A ‘Keeper grabbed him as he groped for something he could push off from.

  “Koi’s okay,” Laif said conversationally.

  Dane’s eyes flicked his way, his expression utterly unreadable. But he relaxed. A hair.

  The captain was reading them both their status, that they had been taken into custody by the World Council, that they would be treated under the International Convention on Human Rights statutes for all detainees, that they would have access to legal counsel and so forth. Dane’s eyes had taken on a glazed, faraway look and Laif worried silently about that high-level stun. He could see a couple of the CSFs sealing the girl’s body into a body-bag. No sign of Koi. They hauled the two of them into the elevator, and when it halted at the micro point, the captain released their restraints and explained the action of the collar in graphic detail.

  At least he didn’t demonstrate it. Laif silently thanked him for that small kindness.

  Dane didn’t look at him, merely stared at the wall as the elevator dropped to skin level. He might have been any commuter on his way to a boring day job.

  The skinside corridor was empty and the back of Laif’s neck prickled. Even the vendors’ carts were deserted, parked crookedly in the promenade, the shops closed, curtains pulled across display space.

  The blue-uniformed figures guarding the first major intersection confirmed Laif’s guess. The CSF saluted their small force, their faces alert and incurious. One of them murmured something, clearly speaking over a link.

  The group split and half of them hustled Laif down the intersecting corridor toward the alley that led to Admin. He craned his neck to see where they were taking Dane, but a sharp shove in the small of his back encouraged him to keep moving. Another pair of CSF guarded the entrance to the alley. This corridor was eerily empty, too, although in the distance, Laif could make out blue figgures clustered about at least a couple of residents. Arresting them? Answering questions? It was too near the rise in the corridor and he couldn’t sort out the scene.

  Efficient, these guys.

  Laif shuffled into Admin flanked by the captain and his babysittter. The rest of the team vanished, off to some duty or other. Admin was full of blue uniforms. Two youngsters, a pair of scrawny, freckled redheads that looked like twins worked on the controls. The sappers. Laif’s shoulders sagged. Three other CSF conferred over a holomap of the platform, speaking in link-voices. The captain gave a short, chest-high salute to an older man with a major’s insignia. Laif strained his ears, but his babysitter hustled him off with that hard and unloving hand above his kidneys.

  She took him to the tiny conference room at the end of Admin, shoved him through the opening door, just hard enough to make him stumble. By the time he recovered his balance, the door had closed behind him. Unsurprisingly it didn’t open for him.

  “Welcome to the holding tank.” Bar sat on the tiny conference table, swinging his feet. “These guys are really really good.”

  “So I gather. What the hell happened here?”

  “They showed up right after you left. I guess they came up on New Singapore’s elevator. You know how they are over there… if they want secrecy, they get it.” He grimaced. “Private contract transport over here. They hit the dock with a Council Directive that overrides everything, I guess, had our internal communications shut down about two seconds after Immigration gave me a heads up. I called you when they walked in the door, but they shut me down beefore you picked up.”

  Oh yeah… that com-link prod. Laif’s lips tightened. He should have checked, would have maybe been alerted when the sysstem turned out to be down.

  What did it matter?

  Bar shook his head, his eyes bleak. “Man, next time some fool hotshot at a bar spouts off about taking on Earth in some kind of military head-on…” He laughed a short, sour note. “They just got to meet these guys. No wonder it’s so damn peaceful downside. You should have
been here when they busted in the door. I damn near wet my pants.”

  “I didn’t see anyone in the corridors.”

  ”They got the elevators locked down. No traffic between levels. Without authorization. And they shut down the Can.” He shrugged.”That took their net geeks a little time. They crashed it just before you got here–that’s when they stuck me in here. Hey, we impressed ’em a little bit there anyway. They didn’t like me much when I said I didn’t have a clue how to control it, but I guess they play by the rules.” He gave Laif a weak snllie. “At least they didn’t do some of the things they sort of hinted they were thinking about doing.”

  And if they hadn’t managed to crash it? Laif hunched his shoullders, because you heard rumors.

  The door whispered open again. A young CSF stood there, a broad faced African-mix wearing a Sergeant’s insignia, short and muscular, his posture a relaxed readiness that suggested good beehavior was a wise choice.”You the boss man?” He spoke an easy U.S. slang, no second-language stiffness at all, although his accent suggested he was more likely Confederated Peoples of Africa than New York.

  “Yeah.” Laif lifted one shoulder. “I guess.”

  “I guess you’re not anymore.” The man’s grin widened a hair. “Orders from downside. I guess your assistant’s running the show. Cooperative guy. So you don’t have to stick around.”

  Laif glanced sideways at Bar. “We can leave.”

  “Not him.” The Seargeant shook his head. “Just you. But we want you to stay home for awhile, you know? Just so we know that you’re not causing us any trouble.” He stepped aside. “Let’s go.”

  Laif exchanged another brief look with Bar, who lifted one shoulder. Straightening, Laif left the small chamber, following the CSF through the now-crowded admin. Yeah, there was Arlin, practically bowing and scraping as he conferenced with the gray-haired Major. Laif kept his eyes straight ahead as he marched though the press of blue uniforms. Nobody paid any attention to him, and the comments that he overheard were cryptic at best, a mix of at least four languages he could identify, maybe more.

  A security cart waited out in the hall, but there was no sign of Carrie. “What about our security people?”

  Laif climbed into the cart at the CSF nod. “I hope you didn’t just treat ’em all like enemies. We’re not a hostile country, Sergeant. If your people don’t start something, nobody’s going to attack you.”

  “That’s not what we’ve been hearing.” The sergeant swung himself into the driver’s seat with an athlete’s grace. “We just shut you all down for now. Simpler than dealing with a mess. Your Security people are assigned to quarters. For the duration. You all can have ’em back when we pull out of here.” The cart leaped forward at the maximum safe speed for this G.

  “Where’d you guys practice in micro?” Laif eyed the abanndoned carts, spotted a couple of blue uniforms in the distance. “New Singapore?”

  The sergeant didn’t answer.

  “What happened to Nilsson. The other guy you arrested?” The sergeant shrugged.

  You’re on your own, Dane, he thought bleakly. Better pray they do a DNA test on the dead girl.

  The sergeant knew where he lived. The elevator opened as they approached and he drove the cart into it, sitting relaxed, arms crossed as the elevator lifted three levels. “Hey, you’re top dog here. Or you were.” He chuckled as he drove out into the corridor. “How come you live up here? I can feel my muscles wasting away just comming up here.”

  “Skinside earns income.” Laif shrugged. “What’s the fixation with feeling heavy all the time?” He glanced at the sergeant’s dense musculature. “If you want big muscles, you spend time in a G gym is all.” The man was a bit awkward in the reduced G up here, but not as much as your average tourist. They had reached his door and Laif’s lips tightened as the door opened before he could even reach for the lock plate. So they were controlling it from Admin. Nice demonstration, thank you. “You want to come in?” he looked at the sergeant. “Look around for weapons?”

  “We already checked.” The sergeant smiled, his white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. “We don’t want to get rough with you folk. But we can do it just fine if we have to. Just so you all know.”

  “Don’t worry,” Laif said with only a tinge of irony in his voice.

  “You made a believer out of me.”

  “Nice to know. Turn around.”

  “How come?”

  ”You want the collar off or you gonna wear it as a fashion statement?”

  Huh. Laif turned, felt a touch at the back of his neck, then the collar dropped into his hands. He turned, handed it to the sergeant. Surprised him, just how glad he was to be free of the damn thing. He rubbed his throat. “I thought I was under arrest for interfering with you guys.”

  The sergeant shrugged. “I guess you haven’t pissed off anybody really big.” His grin widened. “As for us, if you give us any trouble… we’ll hurt you. Okay?”

  Laif met his stare. “Okay.”

  ”You stay home, like everybody else. We’ll tell you when you can go about your business.” He flipped his fingers in a salute turned neatly on his heel, and headed back to the elevator.

  Just like that. They were damn sure of themselves. Laif rubbed his throat again. They had good reason to be. He wondered what the hell was going to come down now.

  “Door close,” he said, and crossed his room in three strides, flung himself down onto the sofa bed.

  “Sweet Mohammad, Budddha, and Jesus,” he said softly.

  Now what? Laif got to his feet and crossed to the service wall to order up a juice. Thought about making it a shot of brandy, hell make it six shots, and just forget this mess. Paced to the door and glared at it. Bet it rang a bell in Admin. He opened it, stared into the corridor for a few minutes. Closed it.

  Drank some juice. Opened the door again. Flung himself down on the sofa again and closed it.

  Well, hell, it gave him something to do. He wanted to contact Noah, find out what he’d discovered with that medallion dot–but did it matter at this point? “Door open,” Laif snarled. They’d be monitoring his private link, his access from the room. He could appreciate what the wildcards had, right now. We lost, he thought. We don’t even know what the hell the game is about, but we lost it. “Door close.”

  They could have installed a monitor to make sure he was in here. But why, when they could track him any time they wanted to? “Door open.” This time, he left it open.

  After a good half hour, he decided that they weren’t going to come check on him. Maybe they didn’t really care.

  He selected a vid–a remake of a twentieth-century Italian western –and started it.

  He left the room, heading for the service elevator, hoping that his pass card still worked, even if they had disabled his personal acccess, hoping that they were busy enough securing the platform that they hadn’t assigned someone to watch him personally or watch these corridors. Made it to the service bay and slipped his card into the slot beneath the palm plate. The doors whispered open a moment later.

  So far, so good. This particular elevator brought him up to the hub near the control center, but far enough away so that anyone

  there wouldn’t spot him exiting. He sent it up at normal speed, since the elevators were supposed to be locked down. With any luck, the CSF were using the elevators and this might slip by.

  If it didn’t slip by, all they had to do was stop the elevator, lock the door, and send someone up here to pick him up. He had a feeling he wouldn’t get sent home with a pat on the butt this time around.

  The damn trip took forever, and half a dozen times, he was sure it had been frozen. But finally… finally… the door sighed open and that searing, wonderful light flooded him. He kicked off and arrowed into the deep green light between the tubes. Most of them were close to harvest here and leaves brushed his face and as he sped past.

  Laif let himself drift to a stop, grabbed anchor on a tube, breathing hard
, sweating as he listened for any sound of pursuit. They could find him with scanners, but the hub garden was a big place. Knowing he was there and catching him were two different things. And it would be dangerous if he was armed. Which he wasn’t, but they didn’t know that.

  Better to leave him alone?

  He sure hoped that was their conclusion.

  A shape rocketed from the green shadows over his left shoulder. Wrong guess!

  Laif had time for a single searing instant of fury at yet another poor choice, and then the universe exploded in shards of green and white light.

  SEVENTEEN

  AS THEY MADE THEIR WAY TO THE CONTROL CENTER AND Dane’s bower, Li Zhen’s son gained ability in microG at an amazing rate. Ren, he told Ahni when she asked his name, but it went with a complex mix of image and sensation that Ahni guessed was his nonverbal name for himself. Like Koi’s family, he seemed to be more at home with nonverbal communication and spoke rarely. His happiness in the microG garden bathed Ahni in a golden glow as they made their way though the planted tubes. Good thing Kyros knew the way, she thought, because she was lost.

  They reached the bower at last andAhni froze. Someone had slashed through the woven network of tubes and plants, leaving a gaping opening. Shredded leaves and bruised blossoms drifted, alive with feasting frog things. Beside her, Kyros muttered an oath. “Get out of here,” he said softly. “Right now.”

  She didn’t argue, spun, yanked Ren tight against her chest pushed off hard. They would have scanners if they were there. CSF? Fear filled her heart. Kyros was right behind her, breathing hard, his anger and fear a sour reek in the air. Frightened, Ren had wrapped his legs around her waist, his heels digging into her kidneys as she shot through the thick leaves. The dense plantings wouldn’t fool a scan and she felt naked, utterly visible.

  Koi, she thought with a pang of fear. What had happened to Koi? And as if in answer, a slender shape shot across her path, somersaulted off a thickly planted tube was suddenly streaking along beside her.