Endgame

by Kristine Smith

  They stood in silence, each a prisoner of their own memories. Then Val stirred.

  “We’re getting the high sign.” He jerked a thumb toward the skimmer, which Niall had converted into a holiday display of blinking warning lights. “The network vans are headed this way. We better get going.”

  Jani waited for John, then slipped her arm through his. They walked back to the skimmer side by side, at peace, at least for now. Got in and headed back to the city.

  CHAPTER 36

  “…and the first two thousand houses have been completed in phase one of the new western section.” Dieter made a notation on his recording board. “That makes ten thousand in the past three months.”

  Jani nodded. Outside the library window a pair of seabirds swooped at one another, their squawks audible even through the filtering glass. Are they fighting or mating? She watched them circle one another, the tips of their wings seeming to touch. Is there a difference?

  Then she sensed a ripple in the silence, and looked across the table to find her suborn eyeing her expectantly. “That’s a lot.”

  “Yes, it is.” Dieter set down the board, then tucked the stylus behind his ear. “A less preoccupied person might even be impressed.”

  Jani smiled. One thing she’d missed during her time away was Dieter’s gentle chiding. And now I’ve had a lifetime’s worth in the past few months. “I’m sorry. It’s a marvelous achievement.”

  Dieter sighed, then started gathering up his files. “If you don’t want the blow by blow details, just say so. I can save them for the monthly reports.”

  “When did we start doing monthly reports?”

  “Last month, when the first funding arrived from Chicago to help cover phase two of the western expansion along with the far southern expansion near Meteora. Prime Minister Scriabin is an old Commerce hand. He likes reports with tables and charts and whatnot.”

  Jani tried to hand Dieter a file, but she had taken it out of order, and he frowned and set it aside. “Doesn’t he trust us?”

  “He simply wants an accounting.” Dieter piled the first armful of documents onto the trundle that followed him everywhere like a loyal, overlarge dog. “He’s entitled. He’s a major underwriter of what is likely the largest resettlement project ever undertaken.”

  “The Commonwealth push into the colonies was bigger.”

  “You’re going to argue now?” Dieter returned to the desk for a second armful. “The Vynshà migration involves fewer individuals, yes, but also a much shorter time frame.” To the trundle, then back to the desk again. “And we’re looking after things like infrastructure and such, which was more than Mother Commonwealth ever did for our great-great-however-many-grandfolk.” The last armful. “This exodus will be handled properly.”

  By committee. With monthly reports. Jani sighed. “The teams are in place. We have departments now, instead of someone in a corner desk with a workstation and a good memory. All humming along.”

  Dieter stopped. Cocked his head. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Jani walked to the window and searched for the birds, but they’d moved on to another part of the sky. “Meteora? Didn’t they have a corruption problem there?”

  “…Yes.” Dieter wedged the trundle between two chairs to keep it from drifting, then joined her at the window. “We haven’t done much there yet. A team of engineers and architects traveled down last week to look over the proposed site for the first enclave.” He slid the window aside and stepped out onto the balcony. “It’s not as beautiful as Thalassa, in my opinion. Greyer. Greener, perhaps. Mountainous.”

  “It’s cold.” Jani pushed up the sleeves of her pullover and held out her arms to the summer sun. “I remember someone saying it’s cold.”

  “That was me, sometime last month.” Dieter stared at her scarred forearms and shook his head. “Sounded a bit like your homeworld. Acadia. Land of a Thousand Storms.”

  Acadia. She’d considered going home, for a little while. But while her parents would want to see her, she wasn’t sure anyone else did. Half Haárin. Cat eyes. And those would be the kinder names. Maybe later. When she could tell Declan and Jamira Shah Kilian that she didn’t care, and mean it. Not now.

  Dieter waved a hand in front of her face. “Jani, are you—”

  “Why is Meteora on the list of sites?” She opened her eyes wide and tried to look attentive.

  “Governor Markos thought that the presence of some businesslike, physically intimidating Haárin might push out some of the more hardcore humanish criminal element. And some Oà expressed an interest in settling down there. Makes sense. It’s more their climate.”

  “Oà?” Jani looked toward the once bare cliffs of Thalassa, now coated with houses like an overiced cake. “I didn’t know—” She glanced at Dieter and shrugged. “Maybe I did.”

  Dieter contemplated her for a time, then shook his head. “Poor Captain Kilian. You’d have gone barking mad on a peacetime base. Or driven your commander likewise.” He left her to return to his trundle. “Problems don’t need to be life and death to be important. There is still much to be done here.”

  Jani remained on the balcony. Heard the library door close. Dragged a chair over to the railing, sat and propped up her feet. Because she was ná Kièrshia, Dominant of Thalassa, and had nothing to do until her next meeting.

  “Sit down, Jani.” Rudo Sikara ushered her into the office he kept in the business area of the Main House. “You are looking well.” He looked dapper in charcoal grey, a red rose pinned to his lapel. “I met with Doctor Shroud yesterday, at the Karistos office. I told him I’d be seeing you.” He sat at his polished bloodwood desk, bare but for a stylus stand and a trueleather blotter. “He sends his regards.”

  Jani nodded. She hadn’t seen John since their return to Elyas. He had decamped immediately to oversee the expansion of the Thalassan medical facility in Karistos. When he did return to see patients, she spent the day in Karistos. She knew the ache would subside eventually, supplanted by a loss of trust on both sides that cut to the bone. “When next you see him, likewise.”

  Sikara nodded. Would have shuffled papers if there had been any on his desk to shuffle. “What did you wish to see me about?”

  Jani leaned forward, elbows on desk, chin cradled in one hand. “Speaking as a longtime resident of Karistos, what can you tell me about Meteora?”

  Sikara’s beetle brows arched. “An unfortunate history. Rough sort of place. Smuggling, that sort of thing.” He grinned, shifted in his seat. “I began my career there.”

  “Do tell.” Jani took out a paper notebook and stylus, because she knew she would probably need to take notes, and in any case thought better with paper in her hand.

  A few days later she stood at the walkway railing outside the library and inhaled the aromas of mid-afternoon sacrament.

  “Veena made tandoori chicken.” Dieter leaned beside her, his eyes on the mealtime bustle. “I would gladly crawl across the courtyard on broken glass for Veena’s tandoori chicken.”

  Jani nodded. “It reminds me of my mother’s.”

  Dieter stood quietly, fingering the cuff of his shirt. “When are you leaving for Meteora?”

  Jani smiled. Did she really think her esteemed suborn wouldn’t be able to figure it out? “Today.” She watched the bustle in the courtyard below. Knew she’d miss it, even as she knew she needed to go. “Not for long. A few months, maybe. Change of scenery will do me good.”

  “The term is ‘adrenaline addict.’” Dieter sniffed. “Who will I show my monthly updates to?”

  “You can send them to me.” Jani grabbed the railing and leaned back, enjoyed the sensation of a healed knife wound that no longer pulled or ached. “I’ll initial them and send them back.”

  Dieter rolled his eyes. Quieted again. Started to speak, then hesitated. “Was it that bad?”

  Jani considered her answer, because Dieter deserved a careful reply. “It’s better now.” The dreams had stopped, for the mo
st part. Physically, she was as healthy as ever. Emotionally, she’d heal.

  “It’s different here now.” Dieter’s eyes glistened, until he blinked the shine away.

  “It always will be.” Jani’s chest tightened, and she blamed the aftereffects of the wound that didn’t bother her anymore. “And it’s a good place. The best place. But Meva’s propitiator now, and you’re in your element with the organization. There’s nothing left for me to do but sign off on others’ work.”

  Dieter blew out a breath. “Best let Colonel Pierce know where you’re going.”

  “I will.” Jani stood still for a time, and took a last, long look. Then she patted Dieter on the shoulder and left him standing at the railing. Down a flight of stairs to her bed-sit, the small room she had moved into when she left John. Opened her closet and grabbed her duffel from the top shelf, still heavy with stuff from the voyage to Rauta Shèràa. Coveralls. Boots. Small clothes. Jani’s Noah bag, Lucien had once called it. Two of everything in case of disaster.

  What have you been up to, Lucien? I haven’t seen you since we got back. Probably toying with her as he had with Val, declaring his interest, then holding back to see if she cared. Eternal gamesman. She checked the scanproof compartment beneath the duffel’s fake bottom, which contained her scanpack and shooter. Tools. IDs in a number of names. Because she liked to keep in practice, and because you never knew.

  She closed the room. Locked it, because she knew she would return. Took the stairs to the courtyard. Waved to Dieter on her way to the entry, and felt his stare serve as escort as she walked out the door.

  The garage proved empty, for which she was grateful. She opted for an older, nondescript blue four-door because no one would miss it and it wouldn’t attract attention. Popped the gullwing, tossed her bag onto the passenger seat, and inserted herself into the cabin. Pressed the charge-through, edged out of the parking slot, activated a music band—

  —and stopped.

  “OK.” Jani pressed the charge-through again. The vehicle shuddered, moved forward a few meters, and stopped again.

  “Way to make a break for it, Kilian.” Jani popped the hood, then got out and examined the multicolored array of boards and battery casings. “Where the hell do you start?”

  “Problem?”

  Jani turned to the entry. Saw the rangy figure, backlit by outdoor brightness. Felt her heart stutter, and called it surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  Lucien shrugged. “I haven’t seen you since we got back.” He wore civvies, white T-shirt and tan pull-ons. Trainers. “Just thought I’d, you know, stop by and see how things are going.” He stepped up to the skimmer and pondered its innards. “What are you doing?”

  Jani flipped up the top of a compartment cover, then closed it. “I’m trying to fix this thing.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It won’t go.”

  A corner of Lucien’s mouth twitched. “That narrows it down.” He walked outside to his skimmer, a sleeker two-door the same coffee brown as his eyes. Opened the boot and drew out a large slingbag. “Would you like me to have a look?” Without waiting for an answer, he dropped the bag in front of the balky vehicle, crouched down and started rummaging. “I may have something here that can help.” He drew out a scuffed grey oval about the size of a scanpack.

  Jani caught a glimpse of the bag’s contents before he closed the top. Other ovals. Squares and canisters. A lumpy polycloth roll tied with cord. “Are all those things what I think they are?”

  “Just tools.” Lucien placed the oval against the large flat-sided case that held the skimmer’s brain. The device adhered. Hummed. Then dull blue light fluttered across the surface before settling down to a steady throb.

  Lucien disconnected the oval and read the script that scrolled across the surface. “It’s dumping your code. It’s not that it doesn’t recognize your permission to drive it, it’s that it forgets. So you’ll be able to reinitialize and start it, but as soon as you try to make a change that requires your code, like a Net setting or somesuch, it will have forgotten that you’re allowed to drive it and shut down.”

  Jani shrugged. “So I won’t try to reset anything.”

  “It’s not that simple. You don’t know the cause. Pinhole leak in the battery housing. Bad board.” Lucien powered down the device and tossed it back into his bag. “The code-dumping is a symptom, not your main problem. Even if you don’t touch anything, the skimmer could still stall out and leave you stranded between here and wherever you’re going.” He crouched down, concentrated on closing the bag. “Where are you going?”

  Jani watched him fuss with the closures, drawing out the task, giving her plenty of silence to fill. “Just wanted to take a ride into Karistos.”

  “To see John?” Lucien stood, all perky helpfulness. “I can take you.” He nudged the bag out of the way with his foot, then started to push the malfunctioning skimmer back into its slot. Looked through the open gullwing into the cabin. “Don’t forget your—” He eased the skimmer to a stop and stared at her.

  I should’ve put it in the boot. Jani shoved her hands in her pockets and tried to avoid looking at him.

  “You’re leaving?” Lucien moved away from the vehicle and into her sightline, leaving her little choice. “Where are you going?”

  I should lie. But she didn’t want to. “Meteora. The site of our southern expansion.” She walked to the skimmer, tried to open the passenger door—

  “It dumped—”

  “My code.” Walked around to the driver’s side and dragged out her duffel.

  “For how long?” Lucien finished pushing the skimmer back into place, then shut the door.

  “For as long as I need.” Jani slung her bag over her shoulder and examined the other skimmers. “I’m surplus to requirements here. Everything’s clicking along.” She leaned against a charge-station. “I need to go someplace that isn’t. Clicking along. Yevgeny likes reports with tables and charts and whatnot. I thought I could go in search of some whatnot.”

  “I can drive you there.” Lucien hoisted his bag, then stood there looking like a star athlete in search of a gym. “I have time.”

  “You taking some leave?” Jani tried to remember the last time Lucien had more than a day’s leave when she lived in Chicago, and found she couldn’t. “For how long?”

  “As long as I want.” Lucien’s voice went as dead as it had in the clinic garden. “It’s been a busy few months. After Zhenya won the election, deals were made. Ani resigns her ministry in payback for trying to have you killed, shuts up and smiles and takes the ornamental position doled out by her nephew. Along the way, certain embarrassing issues get shoved under the rug.” He waved. “Like me.” He looked around the garage, brow furrowed, as though he couldn’t wrap his mind around his predicament. “I was strongly advised to resign my commission. They didn’t have to ask me twice.” A shrug. “I’m out.”

  “You’ll go back to Chicago?”

  “I was also advised to avoid Chicago for the foreseeable future.” Lucien laughed. “You always warned me that something like this would happen.” He settled his gaze on her, and his smile faded. “Would you mind a little company?”

  Jani pressed her hand to her stomach. Felt the thread of a scar just below her ribs, where Cèel had driven his knife. “It’s not a glittery place. Not like Karistos. It sure as hell isn’t Chicago.”

  “You’ll be there.” Lucien took a step toward her. Another. “Things never remain boring for long when you’re around.” The smile returned. “Which is why you need me. To get between you and all those people who would prefer that you didn’t shake things up quite so much.” He jerked his chin toward his vehicle. “And my skimmer goes, and I can cook, and I have many other uses, not all of which you’re familiar with.”

  “Be still my heart.” Jani looked at his skimmer and shook her head. “It’s too nice. It’ll attract attention.”

  Lucien walked up to her, took hold of her duffel an
d slipped it off her shoulder. “It’s fast. In case you’ve forgotten, there have been moments in our past when fast came in handy.” He carried the bag to his skimmer and tossed it into the boot, then followed with his. “Let’s go. We can make it there in time for dinner.” He slammed the lid closed, walked around to the passenger side, popped the gullwing and waited.

  No. Jani watched him, as expectant as a groom at the altar. Not again. Even though he had his uses. Even though she could look at him forever. Even though… He didn’t even love her. He admitted it. And I don’t love him. But she and John had loved one another. And look how that worked out.

  She stared at Lucien until she caught the flicker in his eyes, the realization that she just might say no. Then she took one step. Another. Walked to the passenger side, let him help her in, sat quietly as he closed the door and circled around to the driver’s side.

  “It’s green there,” Jani said as Lucien pulled down his gullwing and pressed the skimmer charge-through. “Green and mountainous and cool.”