“But did you at least find out who he was?”
Ansourian shook his head. “He carried no papers,” he said, “nor did he have any DNA files in the habitat records. And I was not in a position to call security to find out, either. Disregarding the fact that I had already explored all the avenues they have open to them, my would-be killer had not broken into my rooms by force; he simply walked through my extensive security system as though it hadn’t even existed. Someone must have shown him how to do that, and only a handful of people have access to that information.”
“They’re all high-up in the security chain, no doubt,” Roche put in.
Ansourian leaned forward on the table, nodding. “I couldn’t risk reporting the incident for fear of alerting whoever was responsible that they had failed.”
“So you had to find a way to make the problem disappear, in other words,” said Roche, wanting him to get to her relevance in this scenario.
He nodded again. “Smuggling the body out of the habitat was not an option, either,” he said. “The moment I stepped out of my room, my enemy would have known something had gone wrong and would make sure security was watching every dock. And I couldn’t keep the body in my rooms for any length of time for similar reasons. There seemed to be no avoiding the fact that I had survived by mistake; no matter which way I turned, that mistake looked likely to be rectified soon.
“The only way I could hope to find out what happened was to doctor habitat records to indicate that the body was mine, and convince whoever was responsible that I was dead. Under the cover of an alias I could watch to see what happened next: who would be looking to take over my position; who would advocate a speedy trial to see the matter closed quickly—”
“Basically,” said Roche, “who would benefit the most from your death once the dust had settled on the whole unpleasant affair.”
“Exactly,” said Ansourian. “The most difficult problem to get around was the fact that Alta had left genetic evidence all over the body. But there was no avoiding that. We figured in the end that it would be best if she turned herself in and thereby forestalled a thorough inquiry. Her story wouldn’t stand up under a detailed forensic examination, and no doubt my enemy is puzzled as to why my assassination didn’t go quite as planned—it must have startled him to see Alta accused of the crime, especially if the assassin was supposed to report in, and has not—but I hope his acceptance of the situation will continue a little longer. While Alta is imprisoned, the thought that he might soon discover that the body is actually that of his assassin, and not mine, concerns me greatly.”
“But surely he would be aware of that already?” Roche found this aspect of the story difficult to swallow. “I mean, didn’t habitat files reveal a mismatch between your genetic profile and that of the body?”
Ansourian shook his head. “I had my own records removed a long time ago. It seemed a sensible precaution to take, especially for someone in my position. As far as preferring anonymity goes, doesn’t it seem reasonable that the person who wielded the true power in this habitat should not seek recognition of any kind? The temptation to use it for personal gain would always be there. And the fact that I could walk the length of every corridor in this habitat and not be recognized by anyone but my daughter actually pleased me. As long as I could continue making the right decisions for Inderdeep to follow, that was the main thing.”
“What about the administer?” Roche asked. “Doesn’t she even know what you look like?”
“I couldn’t take the chance.” He shrugged. “I know this may seem paranoid to you, Roche, but if I hadn’t taken such precautions, I might have died a long time ago. Everything I have feared appears to have come to pass. And now, I must find out who tried to kill me, and save my daughter.”
Roche nodded her understanding. “This is where I come in, right?”
“I can’t do this alone,” he said soberly. “I need your help.”
“Why do you think I should help you?” she asked. “It’s not my brief to become involved in domestic politics.”
“But you are,” he insisted. “You are one of the Ulterior’s agents, and the Ulterior is dealing with a much larger enemy. Our goals may overlap.”
“How?”
“A week ago, Guidon, one of Perdue’s sibling-habitats, was destroyed.”
“I heard about that on the way here,” Roche half-lied. The Box had found the information en route, but hadn’t told her until she arrived.
“No doubt,” he said. “But what you wouldn’t have heard is that Guidon Habitat was destroyed from within using security codes known only to a handful of people. Exactly how they were obtained remains a mystery, but I suspect that the enemy—your enemy—was involved. Perhaps he is my enemy too.”
“Why?”
“Inderdeep tends toward a policy of indifference and nonintervention regarding the problems we left at home. It took a lot of convincing just to get her here. Ultimately, though, I wonder how much good we can do here, particularly now with Guidon destroyed—but I have always felt that it is important to at least try.”
“So it was you who persuaded Inderdeep to come here?”
“Yes,” he said. “And I’ve maintained a steady influence over her not to change her mind and return home. Maybe someone took offense at that, finally—this faceless man, pulling her strings so freely. Maybe that someone decided the war effort could do without me helping it along. But if that is the case, then this habitat has already been infiltrated, and we may all be close to the same fate that awaited those on Guidon.”
“Let me get this straight,” Roche said. “Someone in Guidon, working for the enemy, somehow managed to get the codes that led to its destruction, and now you believe this same person has turned up here on Perdue?”
“And is attempting to do the same thing again, yes,” Ansourian said. “It would be easy to sneak on board right now. We’re still collecting life-capsules from the wreckage of Guidon. In fact, we have inadvertently picked up a couple belonging to the enemy, but we disposed of them before they could open.”
“You think someone in an ordinary capsule could have sneaked in unnoticed?”
“If they were carrying the right papers,” said Ansourian, “there would be no cause to suspect anything. And once in, they could go about working their way up the chain of command. From there it would be a simple matter of working on Inderdeep to change her mind and go home. It would be an efficient way to get rid of the Vax.”
“Efficient, yes, but that’s not normally how they work,” Roche said. “The more destruction and loss of life, the better for them—at least in my experience.”
“Perhaps that is a generalization deserving examination,” he countered. “The most destructive actions are the ones we see most clearly, and remember. There may be more subtle plots going on around us all the time.”
“Perhaps,” she said in response to both of them. “But I still don’t know how you expect us to help. Your daughter’s locked up somewhere. What do you want us to do? Break her out using brute force?”
“I’m not naive enough to think that would work—or that you would agree to such an action.”
“What, then?”
“Your name precedes you, Morgan Roche. If my adversary hears that you have spoken to Inderdeep Jans, he may become anxious. If she can be reminded that the enemy may be whispering to her even now, she might take his advice less to heart. I may yet be able to come out of hiding in a way that will not place me or Alta in any more danger than we already are. I hope to use you, in other words, as a catalyst to change Inderdeep’s mind.”
Roche stared at him for a long time. He wanted to use her in much the same way the Ulterior and the Crescend both did: as a pawn in a personal power game. She wasn’t sure she liked this role at all—but neither did she want to rule out the possibility that she could use it to her own advantage.
“You can get me to the administer?�
� she asked.
“I believe so, yes,” he said. “I should be able to get you into her chambers without anyone knowing. You will have as much time alone with her as you need—as long as you can convince her to let you stay. You see, her chambers aren’t monitored. Not even by me.”
“And what’s to stop her simply throwing us out?”
“She won’t. She has heard of you, and I know her well enough to say that she will be curious.”
“If that’s so, then why would it take so long to get an official meeting with her?”
“Because the chances are she is unaware of your presence right now,” said Ansourian. “Whoever is behind all of this is more than likely protecting her from you, making sure your request to meet her goes through official channels—which would ensure a delay of a couple of days, at least.” Roche opened her mouth to object, but before she could speak, Ansourian jumped in with: “Believe me, Roche, this is the best option available to us at the moment.”
Roche carefully considered what he was saying. “Okay, but once I’ve talked to her, then what?”
“That depends on how it turns out. If it goes as well as I hope it to go, there’s a good chance I will reveal myself there and then in order to press home my case. If it goes badly, I will make other plans. I know of various flaws in security’s prisoner-holding bays. I may still be able to set Alta free and find a way off the habitat.”
Roche was under no illusions as to where she might fit into the latter part of such a plan. There was no way, though, that she intended to commit herself to anything but the most basic level of support for Ansourian—who was still, after all, a complete stranger whom she had little reason to trust.
<1 think you should follow your instincts, Morgan,> the girl said.
That was fair enough, Roche thought. She couldn’t ask any member of her crew to give her advice when they didn’t have enough information to decide; that was her job, after all.
Not that she thought of Maii as merely a crew member; she had become more than that in the previous weeks, especially after her capture and imprisonment by Linegar Rufo.
Roche had felt bad enough over that; she could only imagine what Ansourian had been feeling since his daughter’s arrest.
“Okay,” she said. “Let me talk to the administer and we’ll see what happens. I can’t guarantee you anything, but it’s worth a try.”
“Thank you.” He smiled then. Surprisingly, it looked genuine. “Inderdeep will not be in her quarters for a couple of hours yet; I will endeavor to find out precisely how long. Also, Overseer Pacecca will be expecting Quare back at some point and I don’t want to needlessly arouse suspicion.”
Roche nodded. “Can you give me some way to communicate with you?”
“I think it’s best if you remain completely isolated in here,” he said. “Even from your own ship.” Seeing concern on her face, he added: “It really is the only way to be certain that you won’t be discovered before time.”
He seemed sincere, and his reasoning was sound, if a little overcautious. And she did have Maii, after all.
Roche nodded. The reave’s power to influence those around her, not just read them, hadn’t been necessary so far in Sol System. She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary at all. At the very worst, though, Maii could force the administer to give them what they wanted.
“Okay,” she told Ansourian. “I’ll give you two hours. If we don’t hear from you by then, the deal is off.”
He nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be back before then.”
They all stood, and he left the room. The door leading out of the suite hissed open, then clicked shut. There was no handle and no keyhole on the inside.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Roche muttered to herself.
Maii slid her helmet back and sniffed the air.
Roche smiled.
Maii didn’t disagree.
* * *
Time passed slowly. Roche hadn’t realized how dependent she was on data from the Ana Vereine’s datapool to keep her occupied. The hazard suit’s capabilities didn’t include much in the way of sophisticated software. Even though the Box had access to vast amounts of data, she still didn’t entirely trust the AI to give her what she wanted. There were too many ways it could exploit her ignorance.
She gave up on that line of conversation. Talking to the Box for too long when it was bored could give anyone a headache. But she needed to do something, too, to stave off her own boredom. Sleep wasn’t an option, and neither was eating; her stomach was too tense to make an easy meal of the concentrates stored in the hazard suit’s compartments.
Roche forced herself to relax. After all, she had already done this a couple of times before—on Sciacca’s World, before Maii had agreed not to go digging around in her mind. As on those occasions, when Maii touched a true sensory experience in someone else’s head, that experience conveyed itself to Roche with the same vividness as if it had been her own. She could easily see how the girl survived on the senses of the people around her.
For a second, she seemed to see an echo of Maii, as she saw directly through her own eyes and through her own eyes via Maii simultaneously. But the effect was fleeting. Her own vision seemed to fold in on itself as Maii moved to another viewpoint.
They belonged to a woman who was performing repairs on an air filter somewhere along the corridor just outside the quarters they were in. Barely had Roche determined this when Maii skipped to another pair of eyes—these belonging to a courier on his way to deliver a package. A quick succession of viewpoints from various people followed as they moved ever deeper into the habitat, catching glimpses of people Roche didn’t know doing things that didn’t concern her. Maii never lingered for more than a few moments at a time; no sooner had they found an open mind than they were moving off in search of another. And none of the people seemed aware they had been touched by a reave, for Maii’s mind was gentle and fleeting. But Roche knew that if provoked, the girl’s butterfly touch could just as quickly become the sting of a wasp.
For a while, Roche forgot abou
t Ansourian and their situation. As she and Maii danced across the minds of the habitat’s populace, she became aware of another level situated beyond the sensory experiences she was receiving—or beneath it; it was difficult finding words to describe how she was feeling. Having never before gone along as the reave’s willing passenger, she hadn’t had the chance to appreciate the subtleties of what Maii did.
Each mind was separated by a moment of subtle dislocation, as old sights and sounds were replaced by new ones. In between, Roche felt Maii’s mind searching, and for that split second she caught a glimpse of n-space—the theoretical realm in which the reave operated. It was like looking into the mind of a creature that used sound to echo-locate rather than sight to see. Maii was at the center of her universe, and the minds of everyone around her stood out like bumps on a flat plain—but in three dimensions. Some minds jutted out like peaks; others were no more than slight swellings on the surface. Roche understood intuitively that this impression bore no relation to the quality of the minds in the “real” world; they were no more or less intelligent, or epsense-adept, or Human for having odd-Shape n-space contours. They were just different, in the same way that people’s physical characteristics were different. Roche couldn’t be sure from the brief glimpses, but every one seemed unique in its own way, like a signature or a fingerprint.
As they jumped from mind to mind, like someone circling an island on stepping stones, Roche became more and more intrigued by what she saw between the jumps. Eventually, she asked Maii to stop jumping entirely and show her the reave’s world without any sensory input whatsoever.
It was wildly disorienting.
The Dark Imbalance Page 13