Sean Williams & Shane Dix - Evergence 1 - The Prodigal Sun
Page 6
"I don't suppose you happened to 'overhear' anything else, did you?"
"Little. Why?"
"Because the science officer's report was destroyed with the Midnight." Along with any records of the conversation that had led him to her, she added to herself, rubbing a hand across tired eyes. The rush of adrenaline she had experienced over the last few hours had left her feeling more than a little exhausted. "Your recollections are all we have left to go on, I'm afraid."
Cane raised an eyebrow. "Well, I know I was picked up near an anchor point leading here. Not by chance, either: the Midnight apparently detected a distress signal. Where the signal came from, however, is a mystery; the capsule had no transmitter, and the signal vanished once they picked up the capsule on scan." He shrugged. "I can't explain it, and neither could the science officer."
Roche nodded, absorbing the information. "What else?"
"Not much. He wanted to know more about the way the capsule worked. I gather it contained a lot of equipment not normally required for any sort of emergency coma."
"Such as?"
"Biofeedback systems, I believe, but I really don't know." He shook his head. "I have no memory at all of any time before the capsule. If there was any."
Roche frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing." A smile touched his lips but was gone a moment later. "It sometimes feels as though I was born inside the capsule."
"If you were, then you've grown up quick; you can talk, think, and move like an adult." And a very adept one at that, she thought to herself. She could see his potential in the way he held himself: constantly primed, ready to act, and yet, paradoxically, always at ease with his situation. The way he had carried himself in the lander bay had been more than impressive. An army of soldiers like Cane would be hard to stop. "Perhaps you were a combat soldier?"
"Maybe," he said, but without conviction.
A groan from behind them made them both turn. Roche instinctively reached for her pistol, then saw it was the old Eckandi, struggling in his chair. He was little more than semiconscious, and she noted with approval that Cane had locked the harness tight — something she should have done herself. Still, she kept the pistol ready. If the Surin had been a reave, who knew what the Eckandi — the Surin had called him 'Veden', she recalled — would be.
Veden shook his head, opened his eyes. Taking in the interior of the lander with one quick glance, he turned to face Roche and Cane.
"Where — ?" His voice was thin and accented faintly, but clear. His wide-pupiled eyes were startled, flitting between Roche and Cane, their movement beneath the fine milky film that was peculiar to the Eckandar Caste causing Roche some discomfort. "Where am I?"
"On the lander," Roche replied. "Heading for Sciacca's World."
"The Midnight?" Without waiting for a reply he turned to the unconscious Surin strapped into the seat beside him. "Maii?" He made to move, then realised that he too was restrained. "What have you done to her?"
Roche watched with interest the concern on the Eckandi's face. "She'll be okay."
"You know she's a reave?" Roche nodded; Veden shook his head. "I can't even begin to imagine how you managed to get past her."
Nor can I, Roche admitted to herself, but said: "We surprised you in the lander bay. Do you remember that?"
"I remember you shot me." Thin but distinct muscles tightened around the Eckandi's eyes. "I remember that much."
"You fired upon us first," said Cane.
"What else was I supposed to do? We had to get out of there. The ship was about to blow."
"How could you have known that?" Using a hand-grip, Roche pulled herself forward slightly. "And how did you escape from your cell?"
"Maii — " He hesitated, glancing again at the Surin. "She was monitoring the guards when the Dato hit. She got one of them to open the cell and let us go. It's considerably easier to manipulate people when they are panicked or confused, you see, so the attack on the Midnight was fortuitous in a way." He shifted beneath his restraints. "After that it was a simple matter of getting to the lander bay. I've flown landers like this all my life; launching wouldn't have been a problem." He seemed about to say something further, but decided against it and fell silent.
"Sounds a bit too easy," said Roche doubtfully. "If it was that simple to escape, then why didn't you do it sooner? I mean, surely there would have been other times in other systems when the guards were vulnerable. Why wait until we're at Sciacca's World?"
"That's none of your business." His milky glare fixed on Roche for a few seconds before he turned away and faced Cane. "Who's he, anyway?"
Cane met Veden's unexpected hostility with a broad grin, the lights from the lander's displays flashing in his steady eyes. "That would appear to be none of your business," he said.
Veden's gaze returned to Roche. "He's working undercover for the Armada — for COE Intelligence — is that it? I don't remember seeing him in the brig." Roche ignored the question. "Whoever he is, he moves like one of those damned jarapines from Proebis-12."
His eyes widened. "I don't know what you mean."
"The code violation. You must be more stupid than you look to mess with the Commerce Artel."
"If you say so, Commander." He dismissed her accusation with a flick of his head. If he was surprised by her knowledge of his history, he showed no sign of it. There was more than just a hint of contempt in his crooked smile. "Who am I to question an Armada officer?"
Their eyes locked for thirty seconds or so before he finally looked away, his smile fading beneath a sigh. "At least we're alive," he said, closing his eyes and lying back into the chair. "That's all that matters right now."
"For you, maybe," Roche muttered. "What matters to me is that I'm stuck with you for at least another five hours." She watched the Eckandi closely for a reaction, but there was none. With the typical arrogance of his Caste, he had decided to terminate the conversation. For all intents and purposes, he had totally closed himself off, and Roche knew that further questioning would be useless for the time being. Maybe, she hoped, things would change when the Surin awoke.
To Cane she said: "I'm going to check out the lander, see what we've got in the way of supplies. Can I rely on you to keep an eye on him?"
Cane nodded. "Of course."
"If the reave tries anything when she wakes, knock her out again." The words elicited no response from the supine Eckandi. "We're some way from safety, and I don't want anything else to go wrong."
"Understood." He folded his arms as she left the cockpit. When she returned five minutes later to check on him, he hadn't moved a muscle. A perfect sentry, she thought. Almost too good, in fact.
She didn't smile as she returned to the storeroom. "That's a luxury I can't afford at the moment," she said, more to herself than to the Box.
* * *
Four hours later, a voice roused her from a deep slumber she couldn't remember entering:
Her head jerked up, and the sudden movement sent her drifting across the room. More by chance
than anything else, she managed to catch hold of a stanchion and bring herself to a halt. A rush of panic subsided when her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her surroundings and she realised where she was: the lander's storeroom. She had come in to check on what equipment was available to them, but the low lights coupled with her exhaustion had seduced her into sleep. Not, however, before she had ascertained how little in the way of supplies they actually had: two medical kits, three basic communicators, six survival suits, and enough food to last them two days — five if rationed severely. The only weapons on board were Veden's laser and her own pistol.
Roche rubbed her eyes, shook her head. "Yes, Box," she said. "I'm awake. How long have I been out?"
"Oh? What?"
She shook her head one last time to clear it of the residue of sleep, then pushed herself toward the door. It slid aside with a hiss, and she slipped out into the narrow accessway. The only other room in the lander, a privacy and waste cubicle opposite the storeroom, was sealed, occupied. Sparing it but a glance, she brushed past it and into the cockpit.
Cane had moved to a position by the main entrance. The Surin lay with her back to Roche, still strapped into the central couch. The only movement as she entered the room came from Cane's eyes, which glanced at her before returning to the reave.
The reave's voice echoed deep in Roche's head, although the statement was intended for Cane. It was a strange and intimate kind of intrusion — almost a rape — and felt as though someone was using her brain to think their own thoughts. It was very different from the Box's clear input, and Roche detested it. continued the Surin.
Roche watched from the other side of the cockpit as Cane kept his eyes still. Nothing was spoken aloud, but a conversation took place nonetheless.
Roche cleared her throat pointedly. "Where's Veden?" The couch next to the Surin was empty.
Roche forced herself to reply civilly. "Thank you," she said, "Maii."
"Should I?"
"She's telling the truth." Cane finally wrenched his eyes away from the Surin's. "He's locked in the cubicle. The couch was too uncomfortable for an old man to be confined to for such a long period of time."
Roche nodded. It seemed reasonable, she supposed. "What about you two?"
Cane shrugged noncommittally.
Roche suppressed a shudder, and barely caught herself from using her training to keep the girl out of her head, if she could at all. There was no point. If the reave noticed her revulsion, she didn't mention it.
"Maii, I want you to tell me about Veden. Who is he, and what were you doing with him?"
Roche turned to Cane, who shrugged. "She says they're not really transportees — or rather, they are, but not criminals."
"That doesn't make sense."
The Surin's narrow tongue licked at the fine hair around her black lips.
"I did," said Cane.
Roche's eyes flicked from Maii to Cane. "And what did he say?"
"Nothing."
"I didn't think he would." Roche moved around the cockpit and came up beside the girl's couch. "Is he using you against your will?"
Something rippled gently through Roche's mind — Maii was chuckling.
"No, I meant ... " She shook her head. "You know what I meant."
The girl looked annoyed for an instant, the flash of emotion the first true vitality Roche had seen in the Surin's face.
"That didn't stop you before," said Roche. "Back in the lander bay." The experience was still vivid in her mind.
Roche snorted. "Yeah, they just aren't very high."
"Not to mention immoral."
Roche mentally conceded the point, and wondered if she was being more than a little paranoid. She was imagining dark motives behind everything the reave said and did — sophisticated deceits that only an adult would be capable of. The ritually blinded Surin, for all her psychic talents, was still little more than a child. Petulant sometimes, perhaps even vicious, but a child nonetheless.
What the Surin had been doing in the company of Makil Veden remained a concern, however. To Roche, the long-faced and grey-skinned Eckandi made an odd figure beside the tawny Surin, with her wide jaws and lightly fuzzed complexion. Obviously their relationship went back a lot farther than the Midnight, perhaps even as far as the Surin's birth. Certainly Maii seemed to regard Veden in a respectful light; maybe the Eckandi had adopted her as his surrogate daughter.
"You're very young," said Roche. "Far younger than any other reave I've met."
Maii's face closed instantly.
"Hey, I was just — "
Roche turned away from the Surin.
She groaned inwardly.
Roche frowned, trying to comprehend what the Box was implying.
Even as the Box posed the question, the answer had formed in her own mind.