Ally (38 page)

“Such as?”

“The soldier. Bennett. It's disgusting. One day, they'll all be like the isenj on Umeh.”

“Wess'har managed to avoid that.” Perhaps it was foolish to tell him, but he wasn't stupid, and he had to come to terms with it if the Skavu were to remain on Bezer'ej for any time. Nevyan Tan Mestin regarded the Skavu as a threat; Ade's observation that the Eqbas had introduced a dangerous alien superpower to the system had definitely taken root in her. “They used
c'naatat
hosts as troops to fight the isenj. It canceled out the isenj's great numerical advantage, and wess'har didn't succumb to the urge to spread it throughout their population. Without it, Bezer'ej would be another Umeh in the making.”

“But Bennett is
human,
and you have Rayat—human—and Shan Frankland—human.” Kiir turned very sharply, a perfect 90 degrees, and faced her. “Even Frankland believes
c'naatat
is a threat if humans acquire it.”

“Yes, but they
haven't
. Deep space travel is still very difficult for them.”

“I think you should eradicate all the hosts, and quarantine the planet.”

“I've made my decision on the bezeri very clear, and the two humans and the wess'har male are
not
a risk.”

“You know too little about
c'naatat
to assess it safely, and I think you should err on the side of caution.”

Esganikan wasn't accustomed to having subordinate males lecture her on environmental hazard policy. The Skavu provoked her worst prejudices based on bitter memory, but nothing Kiir said was actually unreasonable. She simply didn't want to exterminate a almost vanished species on the possibility that they might one day become a risk.

“Avoid them,” said Esganikan. “The bezeri, anyway. You'll meet Shan Frankland shortly. You worry too much.”

“If you had seen this soldier healing in seconds, you might change your mind. Seeing it strengthens my opinion. As long as
c'naatat
exists, it's a threat to all natural life, which has to obey the cycle of life and death.”

“I think
I
taught your people that,” said Esganikan. She began walking up the beach back to the Temporary City. “Concentrate on your Umeh tasks.”

“Where are the bezeri?”

“I forbid you to go after them.”

“I wasn't suggesting that I would.”

“The Ouzhari remediation team has located them on an island in that chain. You're confined to this camp. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Commander.”

Kiir followed behind her, a tangible brooding cloud of disbelief and disapproval. The more he found
c'naatat
an anathema, the more Esganikan looked to the wess'har experience of
c'naatat
and how they'd made it work for them.

They didn't even have an antidote for it, and yet they used it sparingly to survive, and had the courage and discipline to end their lives when they felt they became too unnatural.

We can do this too. We can learn to manage
c'naatat.

Shapakti had removed it from some organisms, so it could be done. It developed resistance mechanisms, but Shapakti
had
cracked the basic code. In time, he—or a biologist yet to be born—would develop a reliable way of removing the contamination.

Esganikan planned to protect
c'naatat.
If Kiir got in the way of that plan, she wouldn't hesitate to remove him.

Jejeno: Umeh Station

“They've left the dome operational, Minister,” said Ralassi. “This would be an excellent place to raise plants.”

Rit, head of state of the Northern Assembly, stood in the deserted dome, the largest single open space with a roof that she had ever seen. It gave her a glimpse of what other worlds might be like. It alarmed her because it was so very empty, far more empty even than her office chambers. Physicians said the appeal of large chambers harked back to the ancestors of the isenj who built large airy brood chambers. This was much larger than her primitive instincts told her was
airy.

“I'm already being asked to make this into accommodation,” said Rit. “And I'm minded not to.”

“I think the humans say start as you mean to go on.”

“And I will.” Rit wandered around the impossibly large floor and stood looking up at the vine that covered much of the faceted dome. “This is our last chance as a species.”

Jejeno was quiet. The streets outside were nowhere near as packed as usual, and her groundcar made its way back to the government offices without the usual delays of pedestrian gridlocks. Fighting had stopped, but to call it peace was optimistic. Isenj fell back and repaired damage and dealt with their dead. With no history of this kind of civil war, Rit had no precedence or genetic memory to draw on for what might happen next.

“I have bioweapons,” she said. “In theory, I can wipe out most of the remaining population of Umeh. In practice, I have no delivery system, no air assets, and so no way of using them.”

Ralassi gazed out of the window as the vehicle edged past workers clearing rubble and repairing water conduits. In a side road at a junction, a barrier caught Rit's eye: the road had been closed, and it was packed with isenj trying to make temporary shelters out of anything they could salvage—furnishings, awnings torn from buildings, whatever came to hand. The air felt different to her, and she made a note to check how much of the climate control infrastructure had been destroyed in the fighting.

It was hard to avoid the aftermath of damage in a city so densely populated, however far you were from the destruction, just as damage to state-run climate-control systems affected the whole planet in some way. There were no real boundaries.

“Citizens may simply be too busy to carry on fighting,” said Ralassi. “Let's hope they've simply decided to get on with life.”

“What about Pareg, Tivskur and Sil? They don't appear to be getting on with life.” Rit looked at the back of the driver seated in front of them, and noted that his quills were ever so slightly raised. She reached out and closed the partition. “They're getting on with rearmament.”

“But are you more afraid of them or the Skavu?”

Rit had some measure of the Skavu now, and they wouldn't be as clinical and logical as the Eqbas—or her long-standing wess'har neighbors. They would bring ruin, she knew, and the last thing the Nir system—Cavanagh's Star, Ceret—needed was another militarily capable species resident for any period of time.

“When I see Skavu troops patrolling Jejeno,” she said, “I'll tell you.”

Rit saw total disaster. If the wess'har had any sense, they would too. They wanted isolation. They wanted peace. It was only Bezer'ej that had ever been a cause of conflict between them and the isenj.

Her husband, Ual, had seen the obvious solution right from the start, and it needed no troops from beyond the system. In fact, it excluded them by its nature.

“I need to visit F'nar,” said Rit. “This can't be done by link.”

“If you leave, Minister, you may face a counter-coup.”

“I'll risk that.”

It was astonishing how effective thousands of troops could be when they had unthinkably superior technology. A replicating pathogen…it was possible not to use ground troops at all. Rit hoped Earth was taking notice. Without Eddie Michallat around, she doubted they were even aware.

“You need to make this fast, then,” Ralassi said at last. “And return before anyone realizes you've left.”

“I need to talk to Nevyan Tan Mestin. To see if the wess'har have any sense.”

“Very well.”

Rit thought of the
dalf
tree, which—by luck or design, and it didn't matter which—still stood intact. She would check on its well-being again before she left. It had become a symbol of how impossible things could happen, and in its ludicrous, fragile way, it reminded her she had children still relatively safe on Tasir Var.

Sooner or later, the Skavu would turn their attention there. When the Eqbas left for Earth, there would be nobody to control them, and Rit put little faith in orders.

If the
dalf
tree could survive the war, then so could she.

F'nar Plain, Wess'ej: Skavu landing area

An almost-familiar bronze cigar of a ship, a castoff of the Eqbas fleet, settled on the plain and kicked dust into the air. Ade could feel the faint vibration of its drives in his teeth and jaw as they shut down.

“Obsolete or not,” said Nevyan, “those ships are still superior to ours.”

“Better make sure we never have to test that,” said Shan.

A hatch opened in the side of vessel, a ramp formed, and Shan got her first glimpse of a live Skavu.

“He looks like a laugh a minute.”

“That's my chum Commander Kiir, Fourth To Die,” said Ade. “It's okay, Boss, I won't remind him that he's a dead man. Best behavior.”

“People who go in for this death-and-glory shit really bother me.” A dozen or so Skavu disembarked with Esganikan, and they all had those long flat swords strapped to their backs along with Eqbas weapons. Shan glanced over her shoulder and Ade knew she was checking. Aras had one hand on his
tilgir,
the harvesting knife he always carried. “You're not going to use that, are you?”

“I would have to have a very good reason,” he said.

Esganikan shepherded Kiir and his troops from the ship. Ade still wasn't sure what happy looked like on a Skavu, but he knew more or less what was going on with Esganikan, and she was an unhappy
isan.
He could smell her acid from here. So could Nevyan.

“Esganikan doesn't like this any more than we do,” said Nevyan. She inhaled with a hiss of air. “I have to wonder what I would do in her situation.”

“Never mind,” said Shan. “Let's give it a go.”

Nevyan had what looked like a small distorted brass bugle on her belt. Ade remembered now. The wess'har troops who threw them out of Constantine the first time had weapons that looked like musical instruments: Christ, Nevyan was carrying. He couldn't recall seeing her with a hand weapon before. She smelled of that faint mango scent, and Shan gave her a warning glance again and shook her head.

“I can deal with this, Shan,” Nevyan said. “This isn't your business.”

“It's going to be, I think.”

Esganikan walked towards Shan and Nevyan with that casual, loping gait that belied her brisk and thoroughly lethal approach. Nevyan didn't move: she waited for the commander and the Skavu contingent to come to her. The troops halted ten meters away and Kiir walked forward when Esganikan beckoned.

“This is
Nevyan Chail,
” she said. She was every inch the angry mother making her kid apologize for breaking a neighbor's window. “She wants reassurance that you won't disturb their way of life. They're followers of Targassat.”

Kiir obviously knew who Targassat was. He did a little deferential nod, or at least Ade interpreted it as that. “Kiir, Fourth To Die.” His focus on Nevyan wandered briefly to Ade, and then to Shan. “We're here to restore Umeh and ensure the isenj change their habits. They will never pose a threat to you again.” He stared into Nevyan's face, utterly transfixed. Maybe he wanted to know why she looked so different to Esganikan. “When our task is complete, we'll return home to Garav. You needn't fear us.”

“I found your behavior on Umeh unnecessarily bru
tal, Commander.” Nevyan had decided it was gloves off from the start, then. Wess'har really didn't do tact. Ade watched Shan stiffen. “I'm reluctant to have your garrison on Bezer'ej, but I won't interfere with you as long as you respect our approach to maintaining the balance of ecology.” She indicated Shan with a long multijointed finger. “This is Shan Frankland, a respected
isan
of F'nar, and her males—”

“We've met,” Ade interrupted.

“–are Aras and Ade.”

Kiir turned to focus intently on Shan. “You're the
c'naatat
host who survived spacing,” he said. “I would not have allowed you to return.”

Shan paused for a beat. “Pleased to meet you, too.”

Fourth To Die or whatever his rank denoted was asking to be First To Be Smacked In The Mouth, and it was a toss-up between Nevyan and Shan as to who he was pissing off most. He seemed blissfully unaware of it. “
C'naatat
has spread to the bezeri. Did humans do this?”

“It's a long story, and you don't need to know,” Shan said. “If we're going to be neighbors for a while, I think we need to loosen up and get to understand each other.”

“But this is unnatural,” said Kiir. Aras made a low rumble in his throat and moved to stand next to Ade, wafting citrus, ready for any aggravation. “The parasite is a threat we must control.”

“I worked that out,” said Shan.

But Kiir was talking past Shan, addressing Nevyan. “I mean that this human shouldn't be here. She's an affront to nature. This other male is infected too. What is
he
?”

Shan stared at Kiir and Ade watched her shoulders pull back and brace. The Skavu didn't have a clue about human body language, and Kiir carried on talking past her. Shit, she looked really big when she did that;
scary
big. She was six feet of lean muscle and a bad temper. She was back in full Superintendent Frankland mode now, and fucking
furious.

“He
was cleaning up planets when you were still destroying yours. He's got a name.
Aras.
” Her pupils dilated and
the ice gray irises almost vanished. Set against the sudden pallor of her face, the contrast made her look the stranger she sometimes became. “Maybe it's a good idea if we avoid each other in future. For your own good.”

Perhaps it was the translation he was getting from his kit, but Kiir missed all the cues to back down. “
C'naatat
should be confined on Bezer'ej. No human should carry the parasite. Or any species, in fact. We need to deal with this contamination before it spreads further.”

“Oh.” Shan wore a convincing frown of concern. She smoothed her gloves over her hands like a nervous gesture and then stood with fists on hips, head slightly on one side. “Well, I'll take that under advisement,
arsehole
.”

That phrase seemed to miss the transcast by a mile. Kiir was a meter or so away from her when he started to take a step forward, with the slightest twitch of muscle, and then Shan lunged. Her right fist caught him hard in the face. It was so fast that Ade didn't even see her square up. She just punched Kiir flat; no pissing about, no preamble, no
nothing.
The rest of the Skavu froze for a moment and Ade raised his rifle and flicked it to automatic a full second before they raised their weapons. Aras drew his
tilgir.

So what if they shoot? She can't die and neither can we. It'll just hurt.

C'naatat
was starting to change twenty-four years of drill and experience. It was about time.

Kiir tried to get up and Shan reached behind her back, pulled her ancient 9mm pistol and held it in the commander's face. It looked as if she'd done it so many times that she didn't even think about it. The Skavu party didn't lower their weapons.

“This is my turf.” The 9mm made a comforting metallic click. Ade wasn't sure if she was going to kill him for the hell of it. “You want to fuck with me? Try it.” The commander was frozen on one knee, not quite looking at the gun as if pretending it wasn't there might save him. His transcast probably hadn't made much sense of the interpretation. Shan looked up at the rest of the Skavu for a moment. “And you lot—you can open up with your fucking pop-guns and that
might knock me over for a second, but I'll get up again and I'll be
fine.
And then I'll blow your fucking brains out and you will
not
get up again. I hope we understand each other. Do we?”

Ade moved round in front of her and stood between the Skavu party and their boss; without a translation that made any sense, the reality of opening fire on a
c'naatat
had been lost on them. Nevyan and Esganikan made no effort to intervene, but that seemed to be what Shan wanted, and Ade thought it might be a good instructive session in teaching the Skavu who they were dealing with.

“Disarm,” Ade said. “Go on. Drop 'em. Now. Put 'em on the floor.” He let the ESF's auto-targeting whirr. It was usually a sobering noise for anyone staring down the barrel. “I said
now.
”

They just didn't listen. Ade dipped the muzzle and put a burst of fire down at their feet, sending soil pluming. They stood their ground.
Stupid bastards.
If he didn't make the point now, he'd lost: no choice. He took a breath and leveled the rifle.

“Lower your weapons,” said Esganikan. “Do it.”

There was a frozen second that could have flipped over into shooting but they fell back, letting their weapons hang in their hands. Ade had been trained to talk down trouble and avoid confrontations like that, but Skavu weren't negotiable. He wondered why they hadn't opened fire on him; maybe they were afraid of blood spatter. Aras's faint rumbling sound died away and he sheathed the
tilgir.

Esganikan, red plume bobbing, put Ade more in mind of an angry parrot than ever before. “I thought I might let you find out the most memorable way,” she said, and for a moment Ade thought she was talking to Shan. “You're not to interfere with
Shan Chail
or her
jurej've
, Kiir. I'll kill you if you do.”

Shan wasn't amused or placated. “You get them out of my face right
now
or I'll slot the fucking lot of them. Understand?”

Her 9mm was still held rock-steady on the commander and she looked like she wanted any excuse to pull the trig
ger. Esganikan considered the Skavu with a few tilts of her head.

“Has she infected me?” The commander got to his feet and put his stubby hands to his face. It was clear that nobody had ever decked him from a cold start before. “Will I be an abomination too?”

“Let me test that for you,” said Shan. “If I put one through you and you stay dead, you're in the clear.”

“No more trouble.” Esganikan said. “I ask it of you. You'll treat
Shan Chail
with due respect, and also her
jurej've,
because both of them would kill you too, and lose no sleep over it.” She turned to Shan and Nevyan, and Ade could have sworn she was apologetic. “We'll resume this familiarization when you're more calm.”

Nevyan cut in. “We will not,” she said. “Don't bring them back here. I want no Skavu on my world. Wess'ej is now barred to them.”

“Your attitude to balance troubles me,
Chail,
” Kiir said.

Esganikan paused. Ade couldn't tell if she was offended, surprised, or just realized she was having a bad day. “Kiir,” she said at last. “Take your troops back to the ship and wait for me.”

Shan was still visibly pumping adrenaline: chalk-white, hyperalert and pulse throbbing in her throat. She stood and watched Kiir all the way back up the ramp, and waited until the hatch closed.

“You're improving with the anger management,” said Ade. “You only hit him once.”

She flexed her hand ruefully. “Even with
c'naatat,
that still hurts.”

“You okay?”

“Fine. You know, he's only saying what I've said about
c'naatat,
but somehow it's harder to swallow.” Shan turned to Esganikan, who was watching the conversation with apparent lack of interest as if her mind was on other things. “Is that all you came here for? To see if they could play nicely with others?”

“Partly.” The Eqbas commander ambled off in the direction of the city. Shan followed and Nevyan fell in beside her,
leaving Aras and Ade to do what wess'har males usually did: to walk behind. “And partly to talk about identifying potential allies on Earth.”

Ade left enough of a gap to follow the conversation while he spoke to Aras.

“I can see why your lot left Eqbas Vorhi.”

“The Skavu's right.”

“What?”

“The bezeri, at least. The risk is too high.”

Aras had taken the revelations about the bezeri worse than Ade had realized. “Yeah, but they still look like a bunch of psychos to me.”

“The bezeri won't change, Ade.”

“If you think nobody changes, why are we bothering to send the gene bank home?”

Aras gave him a look that told him he'd used the word
home
the wrong way. “I think,” he said, “that I long for a tidier past, and can see no way back to it other than drastic measures.”

Ade had expected Aras to return from Umeh a little more at ease with his past. But he was never ashamed of it to begin with: and it took one dispassionate killer to know another. Ade wished that absence of guilt could find its way into him, and tuned back in to the conversation going on a couple of meters ahead.

“What exactly passed between you and Helen Marchant?” Shan asked Esganikan. “Did she approach you?”

“I asked the Australian Matsoukis who would be receptive to the adjustment of Earth, and he gave me a great deal of information. Marchant seemed prominent in your green community.”

“But you do know she was what we call a terrorist, don't you? Using violence and fear to achieve political ends.”

“Yes, I did. We do similar things. And we discussed you.”

“When I helped them, I was breaking the law I took an oath to uphold. Just remember to ask her what
she
wants out of all this.”

“I told her what
we
wanted, which was the punishment of
those responsible for the order to destroy Ouzhari. She said she would make every effort to achieve that.”

Ade had another unpleasant thought. He was getting a lot of those. Shan evidently had the same one. “Did she say how? Unless she specified bringing war crimes charges in the international courts, she's probably got pals who could do the job unofficially.”