Offspring

by Steven Harper

  “Is everyone all right?” he demanded, getting to his feet.

  The group shakily stood up on the wooden walkway past the drawbridge. Harenn, still clutching the screaming Evan, looked desperately around. “Where’s Bedj-ka? Bedj-ka!”

  “I’m here, Mom,” said the boy. His face was pale and he was bleeding from a cut on his cheek but otherwise seemed fine. A quick check among the others revealed a few bruises and minor cuts, including one on Kendi’s back, but no serious injuries.

  “How did you know that was going to happen?” Ben asked.

  “I didn’t know it was going to be a bomb,” Kendi said, a little awed. “I just knew we had to get out.”

  The fire squad arrived and had the fire out in short order. The police provided crowd control and handed out blankets to the Rymar-Weaver household to ward off the chill. Evan finally quieted. Inspector Ched-Theree also arrived and set about taking statements.

  “We have an entire team looking into this,” she said. “It seems reasonable that the same people are responsible for this and for the other attempts on your life, especially since the tree branch was also severed with an detonation device. Unfortunately, the clues are few. A forensic team will examine the house in careful detail, and they may have something to tell us in a few hours.”

  “What I’d like to know,” Tan said, her raspy voice even more hoarse than usual, “is how a bomb got past our security measures. Got chemical sniffers to watch for explosives. Should have spotted a bomb right away. Who planted it and how did it get there?”

  “Who has access to your home?” Ched-Theree asked.

  “These days?” Ben said. “Only family and close friends.”

  “There’s Ben and me,” Kendi said, ticking off his fingers, “Harenn, Bedj-ka, Lucia, Grandma—Senator Reza—my brother Keith and sister Martina, Ben’s aunt Sil and uncle Hazid, and his cousins Tress and Zayim. And the security people.”

  “Would any of them want to kill you?” Ched-Theree said.

  “We don’t get along well with Ben’s aunt, uncle, and cousins,” Kendi said, “but I don’t think they want him dead. Ben?”

  “Tress and I get along fine these days,” Ben said, pulling his blanket tighter around himself and Evan. “Sil still whines and Zayim and Hazid are complete jerks, but killers? No.”

  “When was the last time each of these people were in your house?” Ched-Theree asked.

  “They were all here today,” Kendi said. “Except for Grand—Senator Reza. She visited the day after we brought Evan home from the hospital.”

  “The explosive had to be planted within the last week,” Tan said. “We do a complete security sweep of the house every seven days—”

  “You do?” Kendi said, surprised.

  “Standard,” Tan said. “We turned up nothing. Has anything new come up on the other attacks? Might give us a clue.”

  Ched-Theree dipped her head. “Indeed. Thanks to Senator Reza’s expediting, I learned that a military research laboratory near Othertown was keeping a small supply of polydithalocide for study. It was recently stolen. We are working with the military to solve the theft. I also learned that the medical center took extensive scans of Father Kendi’s dart wound, and we took a very close look at the angle of entry. It may point us toward the place occupied by the attacker. We must first finish here, however.”

  “Why are we standing outside?” Gretchen demanded. “It’s not safe for all of you to be standing around in the open like a herd mickey spikes. Someone with a rifle might take potshots.”

  “Grandma’s,” Ben said. “We should be safe there.”

  A quick phone call followed by an equally quick flitcar ride, and they were securely ensconced behind the walls of Salman Reza’s enormous home. Salman herself showed them to guest rooms.

  “Make yourselves at home, my poor ducks,” she said. “Wash up and then come downstairs for tea and sympathy.”

  After quick showers to wash of soot and grime, Kendi, Ben, and the others wrapped themselves in thick bathrobes and gathered in Salman’s living room. Evan was asleep on Ben’s lap, apparently none the worse for wear. A generous array of foods that impressed even Lucia was spread across the coffee table, along with steaming mugs of herbal tea. Kendi’s stomach growled with previously unnoticed hunger, and he wolfed down most of a ham sandwich without really tasting it. Then he took Evan so Ben could eat. The baby made a warm bundle in his lap. Kendi looked down at his sleeping face and a lump the size of an apple grew in his throat. His son, this little baby, had almost died. Kendi’s hands started to shake. He himself had come close to death any number of times, but the possibility of Evan coming to harm unnerved him. He stole a glance at Lucia’s round belly. Would it be like this for all their children?

  “Perhaps we should hold a council of war,” Salman said. “That’s what this has become, after all—a war.”

  “But who are we at war against?” Lucia sipped her tea. “We don’t know who our enemy is.”

  “Or exactly who the target is,” Gretchen said. “The first two attacks were clearly made against Kendi, but the bomb could have been for any one of us. Mostly likely are Kendi or Ben, but it could also have been meant for—sorry, it has to be said—meant for Evan. He’s a child of Irfan just like Benny-boy there.”

  “The question to ask is Who benefits?,” Tan said. She got up to pace the floor. “If Kendi died, who would benefit? Same for Ben and for Evan.”

  “Foxglove,” Kendi said. “Before Ben’s revelation, my endorsement was keeping Grandma’s campaign going. The branch and the dart both happened pre-revelation. After the revelation, Ben—and Evan—became dangerous to Foxglove as well. Look at the change in tactics. The branch and the dart would hurt only me. The bomb would take out all three of us. Foxglove benefits.”

  “As would Ched-Pirasku,” Harenn pointed out.

  “Ched-Theree said the polydithalocide in that dart probably came from a military base near Othertown,” Lucia said. “That may point toward Mitchell Foxglove.”

  “I still think Sufur has a hand in this,” Ben growled. “We can’t discount his presence here.”

  Kendi said, “Maybe we should—”

  “Excuse me, Senator,” said a black-clad servant in the doorway. “Inspector Ched-Theree is here. Shall I show her in?”

  Salman gave assent, and Ched-Theree joined them, sitting on the floor next to the sofa. Her blue head cloth was limp and sweaty-looking and her silver Guardians medallion was dark with soot. Salman offered her tea, but she refused politely.

  “We have preliminary findings,” she said. “The forensic crew scanned the site and found traces of a chemical explosive. The common name for it is Trip-Slap, and it is quite rare and expensive.”

  “Chemical explosive?” Gretchen said. “Why didn’t the sniffers catch it coming in?”

  “Trip-Slap is short for ‘triple slap,’ “ Ched-Theree chattered. “It involves three chemicals. The first is a buffer solution which is, by itself, not dangerous. The second is a stable chemical held in the buffer solution as a suspension. The third chemical is an enzyme. It breaks down the stable chemical, which then reacts with the buffer solution to create a liquid so volatile that simple ambient vibrations cause it to explode.”

  “How did the attacker manage to get it inside the house, then?” Kendi asked.

  “The first two chemicals were probably placed together in a container. Then whoever built the explosive dropped a second container containing the enzyme into the mix. When the container dissolved, it released the enzyme and transformed the entire jar into an explosive.”

  “How long would it take to dissolve the enzyme container?” Ben asked. “That might tell us when it was planted in our house.”

  “That we do not yet know,” Ched-Theree said. “It will require painstaking scans to uncover such microscopic shards. Pray to Irfan that it does not rain within the next few days.”

  “You still haven’t told us how the bomb got past the sniffers,” Ta
n said.

  “None of the chemicals are volatile by themselves, so sensors that sniff for explosives miss them entirely. “ll three chemicals are also extremely expensive and difficult to manufacture. “s a result, the manufacturers of chemical sniffers rarely include them in the sniffer’s database.” Ched-Theree lifted a hand to fiddle with one end of her head scarf. “Perhaps after this incident, they will do so.”

  “If the chemicals are expensive, the attacker has to be wealthy,” Ben said with a pointed look at Kendi. Evan stirred on his lap.

  “It would seem so,” Ched-Theree. “This does narrow the field of suspects.”

  “Do you have suspects?” Kendi asked.

  “We have leads,” Ched-Theree said, then lowered her head and gave Kendi a hard stare. “Is there anyone you suspect? Someone you have not yet mentioned? Perhaps because it only recently occurred to you?”

  Kendi shook his head. “Sorry. No one.”

  “What of you, Inspector Tan?” Ched-Theree asked. “Is there anyone you suspect?”

  “No,” she said.

  “A pity,” Ched-Theree said. “I will continue my investigation. Meanwhile, do not travel anywhere alone. It would be a terrible thing if you were to disappear as well.”

  “As well?” Harenn said.

  “You have not heard the news?” Ched-Theree said in exaggerated surprise. “I suppose it is understandable. The lawsuit and the election and becoming new parents have doubtless been a distraction.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kendi said sharply.

  “Well over a dozen people have disappeared in the past few months. We have recovered no bodies and received no ransom notes. They simply disappeared. The only thing all of them have in common is Silence. In fact, exactly half of the victims are Silent and the other half are Silenced. We cannot help but wonder about a connection.”

  Kendi suddenly remembered reading about disappearances on the feeds—the girl on the hiking trip, the Silent monk who hadn’t come home, the people Keith had said stopped coming to work. He should have noticed, should have spotted it, but he had been so busy with everything else. Besides, Bellerophon was supposed to be safe, a haven. Who would have thought Silent were in danger here?

  A silence had fallen around the room. Finally Salman said, “A connection sounds worth investigating, Inspector. If anything comes to any of us, we’ll let you know.”

  A clear dismissal. Ched-Theree dipped her head once and left, this time without pausing. A great deal of the room’s tension left with her.

  “Do we tell her?” Ben asked, voicing Kendi’s thoughts.

  “It seems stupid not to,” Lucia pointed out. “The police and Guardians can do a much better job watching Sufur than the Vajhurs.”

  “They’d arrest him,” Kendi said flatly. “This isn’t the first time Sufur’s been to Bellerophon, remember. The first time he showed up, he persuaded Sejal to take part in his project—unknowingly on Sejal’s part, I might add—and he helped a spy escape. Technically he didn’t break any laws, but—”

  “Last I looked, helping a spy escape is breaking the law,” Tan asked.

  “The man in question was spying on the Empire of Human Unity,” Kendi said. “That isn’t illegal on Bellerophon. But I know the Guardians and the police would like to talk to Sufur at great length. If we tell them he’s here, they’ll arrest him and we’ll lose any chance of finding out what he’s up to.”

  “And the Guardians won’t be able to figure it out?” Gretchen said sardonically. “If they arrest him, they’ll get access to his computer and communication records and anything else in his house.”

  “Not if he’s smart, they won’t,” Ben said. “And Sufur is pretty smart. It’s not hard to set up a self-destruct virus that’ll clean-wipe your system if you say the word. I’d do it.”

  “We may be able to persuade the Guardians to watch him,” Harenn said.

  “And we may not,” Kendi said. “They’re an unknown.”

  “There has to be a connection between Sufur’s presence and the disappearing people,” Salman pointed out. “He owns Silent Acquisitions, and they’ve kidnapped people before.”

  “But why would they kidnap both Silent and Silenced?” Ben asked. “The Silenced would be useless to Silent Acquisitions.”

  “Perhaps he’s only kidnapping Silent and the other disappearances are coincidence?” Lucia said.

  Kendi shook his head. “We’re still flailing around in the dark. I think the best course is to keep watching Sufur and wait for something to break. Something always does, if you’re patient.”

  “You are counseling patience?” Harenn said. “This is a new thing.”

  “I’m getting really tired of that,” Kendi said, suddenly snappish. “Yeah, I was headstrong for a long time, but Ara’s death hit me fucking hard so now and again I think. Is that such a big deal?”

  “Apologies,” Harenn murmured.

  Kendi took a deep breath. “Anyway. We need to keep Sufur to ourselves for a while. Once we know what he’s up to, we’ll turn the whole thing over to the Guardians.”

  His tone made it clear that it wasn’t a question, but even Salman accepted his words with a nod.

  Ben flung open the meeting room door and strode inside. The startled Councilors gathered around the central table leaped to their feet, including the Ched-Balaar. Ben didn’t pause, but his heart was pounding in his throat and he could still taste the bile from the last time he had thrown up. He strode to the foot of the table—Grandmother Adept Pyori stood at the head—and placed his palms flat on the surface.

  “I’m here,” he growled. “Let’s get started.”

  The Councilors stared. Ben stared back. It was the first time he had met with them, the first time he had set foot on monastery property since he had accepted the role of Offspring, and the Council was clearly uncertain. Ben began to feel uncertain himself. These people were powerful. They ran the monastery and had direct influence on both local and planetary government. Most of them outranked even Grandma. Then he saw that most of the Council was looking at him with awed expressions. He caught sight of Ched-Jubil, and his resolved stiffened.

  “Well?” he said. “The Offspring is a busy man.”

  The Councilors turned as one to Grandmother Pyori. She cleared her throat. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

  What would Kendi do? Ben thought of a sudden. He folded his arms. “I prefer to stand. Keeps the meeting short.”

  Pyori closed her eyes for a moment. “Ben—”

  “That’s Mr. Rymar.”

  “We’re starting on an angry note,” Pyori said. “I don’t think we want—”

  “Want?” Ben said, anger overcoming his earlier apprehension. “Want? Since when have the Children cared about what I might want? You tried to take my children away from me, and now you’ve forced me to join an organization I’ve...I’ve...” He tried to pause, but the words burst out of him. A...an organization I’ve despised for my entire life. You took away my mother, you tried to take away my children, and now you’re trying to take away my life. Let’s get one thing straight right now, Grandmother—I may have joined your filthy organization and you may have my thumbprint on a contract, but you’ll never have my cooperation. Don’t talk to me about what I want, Pyori.”

  “Grandmother Pyori,” Ched-Jubil corrected in shock. “Offspring or not, you do not have the right to—”

  “And if that child-molesting Ched-Balaar slaver ever speaks in my presence again,” Ben snarled, “I’ll cram his head up his own ass.”

  “Ched-Jubil,” Pyori said gently, “your presence causes the Offspring understandable distress. Perhaps there are other duties you could attend to right now?”

  Ched-Jubil started to protest, then caught a glimpse of the stony expression on Pyori’s face. He ducked his head and withdrew without another word.

  “Thank you,” Ben said, slightly mollified.

  “I always said that lawsuit was a foolish idea,” clattered a Ched
-Balaar Councilor quietly.

  “Please sit down,” Pyori said in the same gentle voice. “I’m an old lady with tired feet, but I don’t feel comfortable sitting in...in your presence, Offspring, if you remain standing.”

  Reluctantly Ben took a seat at the table. The rest of the Council followed suit, with the humans in chairs and the Ched-Balaar on floor cushions. Counting Pyori, there were six of them—three human and three Ched-Balaar. The humans were dressed in formal brown robes trimmed with blue silk while the Ched-Balaar wore brown head cloths, also edged in blue. “ll the Councilors wore rings of indigo fluorite to indicate their rank as Grandparents. Only Pyori’s ring carried the amethyst that gave her rank as Grandmother Adept, and her robe was embroidered with gold thread.

  The echoing, wood-walled room seemed too large and too stark for this small group to meet in. Ben recalled when there had been nine Councilors, four of which were from species other than human and Ched-Balaar. He also recalled that when Melthine had been Head of Council, the meetings had been held in the Dream. The Despair, however, had taken the lives of several Councilors and Silenced the rest, including Grandmother Pyori. Ben wondered how much distress Ched-Jubil felt at being Silenced. He hoped it was a lot.

  “Ben—Mr. Rymar,” Pyori said once everyone was seated, “I apologize for every moment of distress the Children caused you and your family, and I am, in fact, prepared to release you from your contract.”

  Hubbub broke out in the room. The human Councilors leaped to their feet, their protests joining the hoots and clatters of the Ched-Balaar. Pyori picked up an elaborately twisted walking stick set with an enormous amethyst at the knob and thumped it hard on the floor. The talk died down. The humans sat again, stiff with tension.