The Dark Imbalance (16 page)

said Roche dryly. So much for her backup plan of forcing the administer to do what she wanted.

Ansourian reached up to affix the battery to the top strip of tape.

“Get ready,” he said.

Roche tensed and watched expectantly. Little happened at first, then the red plastic seemed to soften and ran. As though it was composed of grains of sand slipping through a person’s fingers, the wall simply fell away. After barely ten seconds, all that was left was a spreading accumulation of dust on the floor, and a smell like ozone.

“Right,” Ansourian whispered. “In you go. Good luck.”

Roche nodded and, with Maii following, slipped through.

* * *

Roche’s first impression of Inderdeep Jans was that she looked older than she’d expected. Her skin was paler than that of the other members of the Caste whom Roche had met, and she actually had hair: a long ponytail of perfect white that hung from the back of her skull and was bound in three places with bronze clasps. She wore a simple yellow robe adorned with a stylized sun—a motif echoed throughout the room.

She was seated on a wide couch, drinking deeply from a glass containing a pink liquid. She stopped drinking the moment Roche stepped from behind the wall hanging that hid the secret entrance, and turned coolly to face her.

“Who are you?” she demanded, seemingly unsurprised by the sudden intrusion. She put down her glass calmly but didn’t rise from her seat. “How did you get in here?”

Roche kept her distance, not wanting to alarm the woman with any gesture that might be construed as hostile. “I apologize for the intrusion, Administer, but I—”

“What are you
doing
here?” Jans said with a hint of irritability when she saw Maii emerge from behind the wall hanging, also.

“We mean you no harm,” said Roche. “I assure you.”

The administer snorted. “Why should I believe, you?”

Roche hefted her side arm. “We could have killed you already, if that was what we really intended.”

A sly look passed across the woman’s face. “Then what
do
you want?”

Before Roche could answer, the administer raised a hand and said: “Wait. I know you, don’t I?” Roche opened her mouth to speak again, but again never got the chance. “Roche!” she said, clicking her fingers and nodding her head triumphantly. “I was told about you barely an hour ago. They showed me footage of your arrival and said you wanted to talk to me.”

This surprised Roche, given what Ansourian had said about how her request for a meeting with the administer would probably be deliberately delayed.

“Yes, Administer,” said Roche. “And I apologize for the manner we went about it, but—”

“This must be your blind companion.” The woman stood now, and Roche realized with a shock that Jans was almost as tall as she was, hazard suit included. The administer took a step closer, scrutinizing with some fascination the bandages about Maii’s eyes.

“This is Maii,” Roche said. The girl nodded in greeting.

“I don’t recognize her type.” She looked at Roche. “Local, I assume?”

“The Surin are neighbors of the Commonwealth of Empires.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard of them.” The woman nodded with private satisfaction. Then, as if remembering something, she said: “You were meant to be in Stateroom B, waiting to be granted an audience.”

“We were, but we were told it could take up to two days for us to see you...”

“Very likely,” Jans said. “I am a busy person, you know.” She glanced away for a second, her expression sad. “A dear friend will be consigned to the sun tomorrow. And
that
is more important to me than anything you or anyone else might have to say at this time.”

The sorrow on the woman’s face seemed completely genuine. Roche would have liked to reassure her on that score, but knew she couldn’t do that just yet.

“I understand that, Administer,” she said. “But please hear me out. My mission is of the gravest importance, and I need your assistance to complete it. In two days, it might be too late.”

“Too late? For what?”

“For me to make a difference.” Roche was loath for the moment to stoop to the story Ansourian had suggested. She had to at least see if something closer to the truth would work first. “I’ve been sent here by the Interim Emergency Pristine Council in response to claims that your habitat has been infiltrated by agents working for the enemy. With Atul Ansourian’s help, I had hoped to investigate these rumors and, if they proved to have some foundation, determine precisely who among your staff could no longer be trusted.”

“Atul knew you were coming?” Jans turned easily and returned to her seat.

“Yes, he did.”

“And he was going to help you?” she said, leaning back and looking over at Roche with some suspicion.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure exactly. All I know is that he was to be my contact here.”

The administer’s expression became one of distaste and annoyance. “But Atul is dead now,” she said. “Killed by his own daughter.”

Roche nodded. “We were told,” she said. “I’m sorry. Perhaps...” Roche vacillated regarding how much to say. “Perhaps there is more to it than meets the eye.”

“What are you saying?” Jans studied Roche. “Are you implying she might
not
have been responsible?”

“It is a possibility, Administer.”

“But why would she lie?” The woman looked confused.

“She could be covering for the
real
assassin,” suggested Roche.

The administer’s confusion deepened. “The person you came here to warn me about?” she said. “Why would she do
that
?”

“I’m not sure,” said Roche. “But if you would allow me to talk with her, perhaps we could find out just how much she knows.”

“And what makes you think she would tell you anything?”

“Maii, here, is a reave,” said Roche. “She could read her mind.”

“Really?” Jans turned to face the girl. “Can she read mine?”

Maii shook her head.

The woman looked smug. “So why assume she could read Alta’s? She was Atul’s daughter through and through, and
his
shield was perfect. I should know. I once hired a reave to crack it, just to see if she could. She failed.”

“Be that as it may, Administer, I do feel it is worth a try.”

The woman shrugged, and with it Roche knew the possibility had been dismissed. “It doesn’t really matter anyway,” said Jans. “Alta is guilty of
something.
I signed her execution order barely an hour ago. Whether she is interrogated or not, she will be dead this time tomorrow.”

Roche took a deep breath. That closed off that line of inquiry, for the time being. “Even so, that doesn’t change what I have come here to tell you.”

“No? Without Atul, what can you do?”

“I can still
try
.”

“How?”

“With your help.”

“Mine?”

Roche tried to contain her impatience. “Administer, I am not exaggerating when I try to impress upon you the urgency of my mission. The council needs the help of the Vax, and in return I will try to help you. Atul Ansourian freely offered us his assistance. It continues to be my hope that you will decide to offer us the same.”

The administer looked bored. “Why should I care about your Pristine Council? The Vax can take care of themselves.”

Roche recalled the number of ships in the habitat’s docks, at least one of them—the COE’s
Paraselene
—a Pristine vessel. “You already lend support to the IEPC’s campaign. And I note, without meaning to offend, that you yourself are of different stock from the other Vax I have met. With such diversity—”

“Mind your words, Roche,” Inderdeep Jans stood abruptly, taking one menacing step forward. Even with her side arm, Roche felt threatened and instinctively stepped back. “How
dare
you suggest that—”

“That’s not what I meant, Administer,” said Roche quickly. “I was merely trying to reinforce the fact that different Castes
can
work together for a common good—be they Vax, Pristine, or any other. If you—”

“If
you
hadn’t come here, maybe Atul would still be alive.”

The sudden shift in topic caught Roche off guard. “What? That’s ridiculous! There is no evidence to suggest that—”

“Really? Atul calls for your help, and within days he is dead. The coincidence seems striking, does it not?”

“Then surely you must see that
your
life is at risk also?”

“Why should
that
be?”

“Because if your chain of command has been compromised by the enemy, then their ultimate aim will be to dispose of you too.”

“I don’t see why they’d want to do that,” Jans said, gesturing dismissively with one hand. “I don’t even want to be here. It was Atul who talked me into it, and see what it cost him! Besides—” She took another couple of steps forward, her relaxed expression belying her words, “the only person who has even remotely threatened me to date, Roche, is
you
.”

“That’s not true, Administer,” said Roche defensively. “I pose no threat to you whatsoever!”

“No? You break into my private chambers and exhort me to assist you in your mission—a mission, I might add, that requires turning my staff upside down to search for a hypothetical spy—while muttering vague suggestions that if I don’t, my life will be forfeit. That sounds like a threat to me, Roche.”

“Everything I have said is true,” Roche stated patiently, although she could feel her patience crumbling. “Your life
is
in danger, and inaction on your part only increases that danger. But I’m not the one threatening you. It is the enemy—our
common
enemy. It’s this person, and many more besides, that we should be fighting—
not
each other.”

“So you say,” Jans remarked dubiously.

“Because it is true,” insisted Roche.

“Then show me the proof.”

“It’s all around you! The death, the destruction, the distrust, the disorganization...” She struggled to remember the name she’d heard just hours before. “And what about Guidon?”

“The cause of that accident has yet to be verified.” The administer looked uncomfortable, but was unwilling to take the point. “None of this is proof. Your words are empty, Roche. Why should I believe you over one of my own advisers?”

“Because one of your advisers may well belong to the enemy!”

The administer smiled wryly. “As might
you
,” she said. “Your reputation precedes you, Roche. It is said that wherever you go, trouble follows. If I were to give you the help you request, how could I be sure that the Vax won’t become your next victims?”

“Nothing could be further from the truth!”

“So you say.” The administer held a palm outstretched, silencing Roche, who had opened her mouth to object again. “I have no desire to put my people at risk on such flimsy evidence! A few disputes and the threat of war, an accident, and a failed assassination attempt closer to home—it will take more than
this
to convince me, Roche. And if you
cannot
convince me, you might as well leave.”

The administer’s words sent a chill down Roche’s spine. She knew, then, that there was no chance of convincing the woman to change her mind—not on that score, and especially not on the matter of Alta Ansourian.

“Very well, then,” Roche said, backing away toward the secret exit. “We’ll trouble you no further, Administer.”

The woman watched them leave, a wary expression on her face. “Wait,” she said, just as Roche pulled the sun-motif wall hanging aside. “Who told you about this entrance?”

Roche thought fast. She really had only two options, given that she didn’t want the administer to know the truth. She could refuse to answer, or she could lie. How to do the latter convincingly was the trick.

“It was Councilor Egarr,” said Roche a second later. “And I tell you that now only to demonstrate my openness and honesty with you. His intentions were good, I assure you.”

The administer’s broad smile was cut with cynicism. “I bet.” Then she nodded. “Go now,” she said. “I shall allow you five minutes grace before I send my guards after you. And I do this now to demonstrate
my
magnanimity.”

Her smile dissolved as she glared at Roche.

Whether she was serious or not, Roche could not tell. But she couldn’t afford to take the chance. With Maii ahead of her, she slipped behind the wall-hanging and back into the cramped confines of the maintenance infrastructure.