The Dark Imbalance (2 page)

“Great.” Roche sighed. A representative of the Commerce Artel would be easy to ignore if the woman was on her own; but if some of her clients showed up to back her claim...

said Maii,

“You can read her?” Roche asked.

The blind Surin smiled from her place in one corner of the bridge, black lips pulling back to crease her ginger-haired cheeks.

Roche smiled also; she had missed Maii’s input in Palasian System, where the reave’s abilities had been dampened. “How serious does she think her clients are? Are they prepared to use force if we don’t give them what they want?”

Haid hissed between his teeth. “I should have known that i-Hurn thing was going to cost me one day.”

“We’re not handing you over,” Roche said. “It’s not even an option. There must be some way to convince her to see reason.”

“Will her side of the conversation be monitored?” asked Cane.

“Probably,” said Roche. “Uri, can you detect any signals leaving her ship?”

“None,” said Kajic. “But given the strong possibility that she would use a tightbeam, and the large amount of noise in this system, I doubt that I could detect anything at all.”

“Then we’ll have to assume that she’s being monitored,” Roche concluded. “Which means we can’t just blow her out of the sky.”

“You’d really do that?” asked Haid.

Roche shrugged, and grinned. “No, but it
is
tempting.”

They discussed a number of more or less fanciful options for several minutes, until Kajic interrupted with the news that he was receiving another hail.

“Our friend Ustinik again, I presume, telling us that time is up?’

“No, Morgan. It’s coming from elsewhere.”

“What?”

“From a Surin
imaret
closing in on our position, to be exact.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Roche. “We’ve been in-system just over half a day and we’ve already had one attempt made on our lives, one threat, and now...” She shook her head. “Put them through.”

“Morgan Roche.” The face of a large male Surin adult appeared on the main screen? “I am Fighter-For-Peace Jancin Xumai. You have one of our citizens aboard your ship, and we request that she be returned to us.”

Roche was confused. “Returned? Why?”

“So that she may be reunited with her mother.”

Roche called out in pain as a bolt of anger and fear slammed into her mind. Clutching her head, her vision swimming with intense secondhand anxiety, she turned to face Maii. Through the discomfort she saw Cane move over quickly to the girl’s side and take her shoulders in his large hands. A second later, as he eased her back into her seat, the debilitating emotions ebbed and died.

The mental equivalent of tears soaked the girl’s words, diluting her emotions.

“It’s okay, Maii. I understand. It’s all right. We’re not going to let them take you. Did you hear that, Jancin?”

“I advise against that course of action.” The Surin’s unnerved expression belied the threat in his words. Roche supposed that he had felt a backlash of the girl’s epsense projection. “The Surin Caste has a strong military presence in Sol System. Should you not comply with the wishes of the ruling Agora, I am instructed to call for backup.”

“Then you’d better do just that,” said Roche bluntly. “Because we won’t be surrendering her to you—certainly not against her wishes.”

“Her wishes are irrelevant,” said Jancin. It is the mother’s wishes, and that of the Agora, which are important here.”

<1 have no mother,> said Maii. Her words were edged with bitterness, and Roche could feel the anger inside the Surin girl wanting to break free.

Ignoring the girl’s outburst, Jancin addressed Roche once more: “I urge you to consider the implications of going against the Agora. They only want the girl; they do not wish you or your crew any harm.”

“No,” said Roche. “No one ever does, yet everyone keeps threatening us.”

She killed the line before Jancin could speak again, then turned to Cane.

“Thanks,” she said to him. The clone warrior nodded a brief acknowledgment.

“We can’t take on the Surin as well,” said Kajic, his hologram appearing on the bridge.

“And we can’t give them what they want, either.” Roche tapped the arm of her chair. “Maybe this is what it’s all about. Uri, have any other ships changed course to intercept us?”

“It’s hard to say, Morgan.” Kajic called up a display of the portion of the system surrounding the
Ana Vereine.
Even in that small bubble of space, there were over fifty ships following a wide variety of vectors and ranging in size from small, anonymous fighters to bulky cruisers. The display was awash with energy and particulate wakes. As Roche watched, a new cluster of six medium-sized attack craft appeared, following a high-energy elliptical orbit around the system’s sun; who they were, Roche didn’t know, nor did she care. All that mattered was that they weren’t homing in on her ship.

Kajic ringed three craft. “There is a Dato pursuit vehicle that seemed to react to our appearance an hour ago, but so far has not displayed any hostile intentions. This ship, here, which I have not been able to identify, is almost certainly following us. And this one”—the third ship was a stationary speck in the center of the swirl of orbits—”has done nothing at all.”

“Trying to remain inconspicuous?” suggested Haid.

“Trying a little
too
hard,” said Cane.

“Exactly my feeling.” Roche turned to the young epsense adept. “Maii? Anything?”

The girl’s voice still had a thick edge to it.

“Is that what you’re reading from him?”

The girl hesitated.

Roche could understand her suspicions, but wanted hard facts, not suppositions. “What
is
he giving you?”

Roche nodded. “What else?”

Roche appreciated the girl’s difficulties, reaching out across space, clutching at any thought that seemed important out of the millions flung her way.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be modest, Morgan,” Haid put in lightly. “You’ve made a lot of enemies in the last few weeks. It’s only natural they’re going to be talking about you.”

Maii frowned and fell silent.

And into the silence came a new voice, a voice that resounded through their minds with discomforting familiarity:

The speaker was a strong but faceless epsense presence.

On the main screen, the stationary dot suddenly moved to a new course, away from them.

“
Now
what?” asked Roche, increasingly bewildered.

Maii’s voice was hushed.

Haid stiffened over the weapons board. “
Olmahoi
? Here?”

The girl’s relief was touched with an underlying fear. irikeii....>

“Great,” said Roche dryly, rubbing at her forehead. The
irikeii
—linchpin of the epsense-dependent Olmahoi Caste—had been killed by a representative of the Kesh. If the grayboot had suspected that they were involved—and why else would he have tracked them down so quickly?—they were lucky to have escaped some sort of automatic reprisal. The Olmahoi retribution squads weren’t known for their patience.

Still, Roche thought, having her brain instantly fried might just solve her problems right now....

“Ustinik is hailing us again,” said Kajic. “As is the Surin.”

“Okay.” Roche sat forward. “Uri, take us somewhere else—somewhere a
long
way from here, and as fast as possible.”

“In-system?”

“Yes, but make it hard for someone to follow, without being too obvious about it. Use camouflage if you think it will help. Ustinik might be bluffing, and so might the Surin. Either way, I don’t like being an open target.”

Roche felt a gentle thrum through her fingertips and thighs as the ship broke orbit.

She waited a moment, then checked the main screen. Kajic’s words only confirmed what she saw.

“Ustinik is changing course, at a discreet distance, and continuing to hail us. The Surin
imaret
has broken off communications and is heading away. That Dato ship I mentioned is still keeping quiet, but looks like it’s going to follow too. There is another ship...” Kajic ringed a newcomer to the screen. “It’s a COE fighter we passed before. Might be tagging along for the ride as well.”

Roche used her controls to expand the view and scan the regions ahead of them. There were ships everywhere—all moving in wildly varying directions with dangerously different velocities, all orbiting the yellow star at the heart of the system. She was glad it was Kajic, and not her, piloting the ship.

“No sign of the Kesh?” she asked.

“None yet.”

“Good.” That was one less thing to worry about. If the Olmahoi were annoyed at the Kesh for killing the
irikeii,
she was sure the Kesh would be just as annoyed with her for having destroyed one of their prized ships.

The voice of the AI whispered solely through her implants. Now that she was becoming used to the idea that it was actually part of her, living in her cells, she found its voice less discomfiting. It was almost like hearing another part of herself think.

it said.

“Another hail,” Kajic interrupted the voice only Roche could hear. “Another new one, I mean.”

She shook her head. “Who now?”

“Assistant Vice Primate Rey Nemeth of the Second Ju Mandate, according to his ID.”

“I don’t recognize the name.” She glanced about the bridge; no one volunteered anything. “I suppose he’s following us, too?”

“No. He’s coming in on a relay.”

“Ignore him, then. Now—” She stopped herself in time and subvocalized:

She took that as a sign that, at least in the Box’s eyes, she wasn’t doing anything outrageously wrong. That made a nice change.

“Uri, ignore further hails, unless you think it’s something particularly important. We’ve got better things to do than listen to other peoples’ grievances.”

Haid grinned wryly. “You figure we have so many enemies already that making a few more won’t make much difference?”

“That, and I’m loath to believe
anyone
at the moment. If, as we think, the clone warriors are interested in infiltrating and stirring up dissent, then they could be anywhere. Who’s to say which complaint is legitimate and which a trap? I’d prefer not to take the risk either way. And anyway, it’ll be easier for us to keep dodging than it will be for someone to catch us, no matter how many of them there are.”

Cane nodded. “True.”

Roche turned to face him. “And while Uri, Maii, and Ameidio see to that, maybe you and I should take the opportunity to have a private talk.”

Cane shrugged. “Whatever you say, Morgan.”

“Good.” Roche stood. “I like the sound of that.”

* * *

In the small room at the rear of the bridge, Roche sat in a chair opposite the large hologram emplacement where Uri Kajic had once projected his image. On a display she studied a detailed image of Sol System composited from old map records and incoming data. She had lost count of the number of ships they’d passed since leaving the anchor point, but the Box estimated that around seven hundred Castes were represented in various forms—from the fringe-lovers out where a comet cloud might once have once been to the hot-bloods in close. The sun had seen better days; there was evidence of large-scale waste-dumping in its outer atmosphere—unsurprising, she thought; it had to go
somewhere—
but thankfully no one had tried any tricks such as the Kesh had in Palasian System. One system utterly destroyed in a month was more than enough for the region.

Not that there was much to lose. Discounting the ships, the system was mostly empty. There was a faint but well-defined ring around the sun, approximately half a million kilometers in width and less than a thousand thick, just straddling the regions that might have been mundane-habitable had there been a planet to live on. Apart from the ring and the ships, the system contained nothing but vacuum. Anything larger than a pebble had been stripped back to molecules long ago, leaving behind only a wisp of smoke around the system’s star.

If the system
had
ever been inhabited—let alone the birthplace of Humanity, as a few scholars had once suggested—nothing remained to show it.

Roche watched the endlessly chaotic dance of ships for a long moment, wondering who was in them and what they wanted. Then she turned to Cane.

He sat opposite her, his expression unreadable. The overhead light reflecting off his scalp made it look as if he had a third eye.