Ally (44 page)

“Chail,
I know what you're thinking.”

“Send your data back to your colleagues on Eqbas Vorhi now, and take your bonded team members home with this
gethes.
In the five years of dilation, they'll have made progress on modeling, and you can begin work on a removal method with the best facilities as soon as you arrive home.”

Shapakti exuded relief, a faint burst of musk, and his muscles relaxed. “I thought you were going to suggest an experiment that I would find ill-advised.”

It was her life, and if things went wrong, then she knew how to bring the experiment to an end. “I'm going to do it. Do you have live tissue samples from Shan Frankland?”

“Yes. But don't do this. You can't be serious.”

Rayat had been watching the exchange with interest. It seemed that he'd suddenly realized the implications of what was being discussed. “Hang on, that's insane. You can't do that. You're going to infect yourself?”

“Each host adds something to the next, if only memories. I wonder if it might be worth having yours, Dr. Rayat.”

Shan had warned her he was slippery and manipulative, but understanding that way of thinking would make a difference in how she handled the Earth mission. Not all
gethes
were the loyal Ade Bennett or rigorously moral Shan Frankland. A normal, selfish, deceptive human psyche would be a valuable reference.

“Give me an infectious sample from this man,” she said.

“Don't do this,” said Rayat. “Don't take this to Earth. I'm begging you. You can't take the risk.”

“But I thought that was your mission,” she said. “And why you seeded that idea in me. So your government could find a way of harvesting it once we get to Earth, whether it comes from me…or you.”

“I swear I didn't.” It was the first time she'd seen Rayat react so violently. His scent had changed; if he could hide it like Shan, he'd abandoned that now, maybe to make his point. “It absolutely mustn't get into human hands. This isn't a game. I mean it.”

She'd misread him, then. He was as distressed as any human she'd seen. A lesson learned; humans often gave out misleading signals to each other, so it wasn't surprising that he'd sent the wrong ones to her. But that didn't matter now.

Shapakti wasn't happy about it either. “And what if we never manage to find a removal method?” His scent was acid and anxious now, even afraid. “Close isn't good enough. We came close before.”

“Then I have explosive ordnance, which I understand as well as you understand anatomy. I will do what so many wess'har troops did if it becomes clear we'll never be able to remove it.”

“You have to warn the crew you're a biohazard, and the wess'har, too.”

And I'll have to tell Shan Frankland. And that will be…interesting.

“Prepare to go home, Shapakti, and give me the infectious material in a form that I can use.”

“I strongly advise against this.”

“And then you can have infected Eqbas samples to take home for your research.”

Shapakti's expression changed. “Ah, and
gethes
say we know nothing about trade.”

“An infusion of blood.”

“That would be simplest.”

Hard decisions were only ones that you hadn't yet made, and Esganikan had made hers. It felt easy now. She looked
into Rayat's face and wondered what she would find in his mind.

“Do you want to visit Surang, Doctor? On Eqbas Vorhi?”

Rayat's face was increasingly readable. He was far less expressive than men like Ade or Barencoin, but the muscle movement, dilation of blood vessels and skin changes were still visible to a wess'har. Rayat went from a flash of alarm—the
eyes,
those were the indicators in humans, she decided—to something like excitement. She'd seen that in youngsters and in Shapakti when offered new learning.

“You're sending me to Surang for safe keeping and further investigation,” he said. “Fine. Do that. Keep me out of the hands of my own people. But don't give
c'naatat
to them gift-wrapped. You don't understand humans at all.”

“Do you
want
to go?”

“I would love to go. I'd love to see your world. But I beg you, don't take
c'naatat
to Earth.”

“Shapakti,” she said, “do this.”

“Oh God, no…” said Rayat.

Shapakti took a plain white metal tube that was cool to the touch and had a subcutaneous injector on one end. It didn't even need Rayat's cooperation. There were samples of his blood and tissue in conservation. Esganikan looked at the tube, and somehow it didn't look like the most dangerous thing she had ever attempted.

C'naatat
had shifted from being a risky experiment to something she now thought she would actually need. She
had
to assume the Earth mission would take longer than planned. She
had
to plan for the Skavu compromising her, and possibly leaving her short of personnel. She
had
to assume the worst, and hope that Shapakti and the team he would work with eventually could remove the parasite from her system in time. Shan would have said her faith in providence was just like the
god-botherers
.

“You really don't get it, do you?” said Rayat, a sob in his voice.

Time was what she didn't have.
Threat is now.
Esganikan rolled up her sleeve, and took the step into a world of other
people's memories, and a wholly uncertain and deathless future.

Landing area, outside the Temporary City, Bezer'ej

“Lin can rant as much as she wants,” Shan said, “but she's got more sense than to mess with Wess'ej. Or give the Skavu an excuse to go after her little squid gang.”

Shan was more worried about Aras right then than about Lindsay's reaction to the destruction of the eggs, and the ultimatum she'd been given. Only a wess'har could understand his self-loathing at taking a life that had genuinely done nothing, something as repugnant to him as eating flesh. He didn't discuss it, but destroying the eggs must have had a particularly painful significance for him.

“She knows what must happen if she fails to keep the bezeri in check,” said Nevyan. “If she doesn't, at least our choice is clear. She understands the stakes very well.”

Giyadas clung to Nevyan's side, annoyed that she hadn't been allowed into the bezeri camp, and wanting to know what had happened. Serrimissani, ever the little ray of sunshine, was pacing around impatiently, anxious to return to Wess'ej.

“You'd make a lousy taxi driver,” Shan observed. “Stick it on the meter.”

“Esganikan Gai is late.”

“Wess'har don't care about late, so why do you?” Shan wanted to get Aras home, but a little while longer wouldn't make any difference. “Relax. We've all had a shitty few weeks and now we might get a little respite.”

Shan passed the time waiting for the Eqbas commander to come by examining some vivid pink blooms on a flat rosette of vegetation. They looked like physalis husks, papery and fragile, but when she touched them they had the moist, fleshy feel of orchid petals.

Yeah, Esganikan was taking her time.

“You adapt to so much,” said Nevyan. “And yet you still find it hard to accept that disputes can be resolved between
wess'har without violence, consultation or long negotiations. Either something is resolvable or it isn't.”

“Has there ever been an
isn't
?”

“Yes, and it's Wess'ej. The followers of Targassat left.”

“Ah, we'd have taken entrenched positions, embarked on a long and fruitless ideological war, killed millions, and poisoned half the planet.”

“You see my point.”

“I'll just swing from the trees, scratch a bit and keep quiet, eh?” At least Nevyan understood what human jokes looked like now. “Ade and Aras will be proud of me. I managed to walk away from another ruck without belting anyone.”

Nevyan let out a breath of impatience. She was a teenager who ran a superpower as far as humans were concerned. No, wess'har were not like
gethes.
They ran on a different clock and a different world view. Shan still felt happier among them.

“Here she comes,” said Nevyan.

Esganikan covered the ground like a race-walker. She was a big woman. As she got closer, Shan could see—and smell—something wasn't quite right. “Shit, she's had a row with the boss. Look. Maybe she's had some flak for sending the Skavu home after they bothered to come all this way.”

If anything, Esganikan looked hot and flustered. And that was just
not
Eqbas. She might have been unwell; Shan was used to permanent rude health now and it had become a habit to blanket everyone with the expectation that they were as bulletproof as her.

“What's wrong?” Nevyan asked, inhaling with a sharp sniff.

“I've been ordered to divert the Skavu fleet to Earth,” said Esganikan.

Shan's gut flipped over. She thought she'd misheard in her preoccupation with the confrontation with the bezeri, but she'd heard right. The first thing she did was consciously batten down the
jask.
No, she wasn't going to get caught that way, not now. But the news appalled her. She felt her scalp prickle and tighten with anger.

“You can't seriously send those bastards to Earth. What
ever happened to your mighty million-year-old civilization? Overstretch?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ. And now you're going to unleash them on
my
bloody planet?”

“Wess'ej is your planet now.”

“You'll just have to pardon my sentimentality, then. Look, Earth might have its problems, but it's not a wall-to-wall ecological disaster that you can sort with shocktroops.”

“I told Sarmatakian that I didn't think Skavu were suitable. But either we accept them, or we operate understrength.”

“Can you control them? And what the hell are they going to get up to hanging around here for a few years first? They're nutters. You know it.”

Esganikan didn't look right somehow. She'd loosened the neck of her tunic, and she'd never done that before. “We'll embark as soon as we can. I don't want them idle here any more than you do, and that might mean some preparation for the Earth mission doesn't take place.”

Nevyan was now totally pushed aside. Shan saw her gather up Giyadas out of the corner of her eye and usher the child to the waiting ship.

“What preparation?” Shan demanded.

“Consultation.”

“You mean telling people what they need to do before you arrive.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, shit.”

“We have a few weeks, perhaps. Once in transit, we can talk to the government of the day.” She leaned forward a little as if explaining to an idiot. “The time dilation means that each time we contact Earth by ITX, time there will have moved on faster than we experience it.”

“Oh, negotiate with a new government every day? Well, good luck, sister.”

“Is that any less convenient than dealing with one government for a few years and then arriving on Earth to find it twenty-five years in the past and a new regime in its place? In the end, it makes little difference. Most of the action we
need to take will be determined on arrival. That's one of the vagaries of interstellar operations.”

“I'm still not happy.”

“It's not your mission, so your happiness is irrelevant,” said Esganikan. “And it's not your world any longer. You did your duty in recovering the gene bank, and you declined the option of accompanying us. Go home and attend to your city and your
jurej've.
”

Few people ever told Shan to fuck off and got away with it. Esganikan had managed it twice. Shan almost lost her struggle to control her anger—and with it her
jask
—but swallowed hard, compressing her wess'har scent glands.

“I'll just go home and get my old man's dinner on the table, then, like a good little wife,” she said. “And you can ride out with the green jihad. Fine.”

Shan turned and strode away to the ship, trying not to stalk off and show how close Esganikan had come to really getting to her. She was a wess'har, and none of it was designed to goad Shan. It was simply a statement of what she thought, largely impersonal and wholly for the common good.

But she was right. Earth was none of Shan's business now, and she'd agreed that Ade and Aras, the double act of her conscience, the safe pairs of hands who always got her back on course even when they did insanely stupid things out of blind love, could give her a hundred reasons for her to stay out of it. This was football-club mentality, supporting a team long after you'd left the city because it just happened to be the place you were born, and it held you in some irrational tribal thrall.

Rayat.
The thought of him stopped her in her tracks. She turned around, put the tip of her thumb and forefinger between her lips, and let out a piercing whistle. It usually did the trick in getting
anyone's
attention. Esganikan turned, paused, and then ambled back to meet Shan halfway.

“Okay,” she said. “I know you're capable of running a planet. Primitive reaction. Earth needs a short sharp shock, and if I thought it didn't, I've already gone too far in helping it get one to be squeamish now. I'll shut up. But what about Rayat?”

“I'm sending him back to Surang with Shapakti for further study. For a removal method.”

Shapakti was homesick and had taken the diversion that extended his tour of duty with grim reluctance. Shan really liked him: poor sod. And now he was on his way home, and she might not get a chance to say goodbye.

“You could have told me,” Shan said. “I'd have liked to have seen him off. And you're right, it makes more sense to use that bastard Rayat for something useful than for me to get a bit of revenge out of my system by making hamburger out of him.”