Edge of Dark (43 page)

Nona took a deep breath and looked around the room. The others seemed to be putting a brave face on their captivity. She smiled as she held her hand out to the Futurist in greeting. “I'm afraid we missed our scheduled meeting with you. I'm Nona Hall.”

The Futurist gave her a glistening smile. “Pleased. I'm Hiram.”

The Historian asked, “Where is Chrystal? Did she escape?”

Nona shook her head. “They took her somewhere else. I'm scared for her.”

“I'm sorry,” the Historian said. “I rather liked her. Plucky.”

“She is.”

Hiram looked at Leesha, speaking softly. “Do you know what's happening?”

“We were taken by Vadim and his people. They've been known to destroy Next ships, and my bet is they want to make sure we vote to fight.”

“I hadn't decided how to vote yet,” the Historian whispered. “Had you?”

No one answered him. Nona looked at the guards, who were alert but not paying particular attention to them.

“I don't know the woman who brought me here,” the Futurist said. “But she cursed like a miner.”

“Is it an invasion?” Nona asked.

Leesha sat down on the couch next to the Historian, her legs sticking out and her head towering above his. She glanced at the closest guard, frowning. “It must be an invasion. I suspect they've taken Chrystal to one of their ships and left all of us here. We're too popular to kill or hurt, and too powerful to kidnap. But Chrystal is none of those things.”

“She's probably more famous than any of us right now,” Satyana said.

“But no one knows what to think of her.” Leesha tucked a stray violet lock into her oddly-piled hair. The perfect edges had slumped during the long walk here. “Her power—if any—is conferred by the Next. Perhaps she's a hostage.”

“But you were their main target?” Nona mused.

“Yes,” Leesha said. “The Council. Either they'll keep us from making the decision or they'll force us to make the one they want.”

“
Can
they force us?” Dr. Nevening asked. “We don't have to do what they want.”

Satyana said, “You've never made a decision at gunpoint.”

The Historian's face looked like he'd just eaten a sour pickle.

The Futurist frowned. “There were two big protests starting. One on each side of the argument—fighting and helping.”

“Some of the organizers approached me,” Dr. Nevening said. “Something about making up for past sins.”

Hiram continued, “A bomb detonated in Exchange three and killed two vendors and five shoppers, including a child. I heard about it right before these idiots took me. Everybody's scared.”

“So what's going to happen? Nona asked.

He looked irritated. “Futurists aren't fortunetellers. My models didn't predict the Next would return. Now I have to recalibrate them all.” He fell silent for a long moment, and no one else spoke. Eventually he continued, sounding almost like he was lecturing a class of first-year college students. “Wild cards make all of our long-term predictions wrong, even in places as stable as the Deep. The return of the Next is a rather big wild card. We know it's affecting politics since
we're
here. The military has been salivating ever since the High Sweet Home was taken, and the social webs have been aflutter with silly fears. When Sheenan Bolla decided to allow the socweb a vote, the conversation heated up to boiling.”

“Which means good things could happen as well as bad,” Satyana noted.

Hiram gave her a condescending look. “I suppose we could be rescued by a white angel force any time, but I kind of suspect we're more likely to be killed.”

Satyana smiled sweetly at him. “You did just say you can't predict the future. So we should be prepared for anything, right?”

Hiram swallowed and looked like he wished Satyana wasn't there.

“Do we have any new news?” Leesha asked. “I can't get any of my devices to connect to anything. I suppose they shielded the room.”

“Yes,” Hiram said. “They brought one of my assistants,” he pointed at a man over in the corner talking quietly with another man. “I asked him to keep testing and come tell me if he learns anything. I haven't seen him since.”

The door opened and a guard thrust the Biologist in, along with two young women. The Biologist looked around, and as she took in the various people who were staring at her, her face twisted in surprise and fury. Jackie Bray had only been the Biologist for about three years, and Nona remembered her as the teacher of one of her particularly large undergraduate classes. Jackie must have noticed Nona staring at her, since she stalked over and thrust her hand out at Nona. “Jackie Bray.”

Nona took her hand and they shook. “I don't know if you remember me . . .”

“Of course I do. Marcelle Hall's daughter. Pleased to see you again.”

Nona winced.

The Biologist went on, “Is the robot here?”

“No,” Nona said, remembering why she hadn't liked her much as a teacher. “No, my friend Chrystal was taken somewhere else. But she
was
captured when we were.”

The Futurist deepened his dolorous look. “This doesn't bode well.”

The Biologist frowned at him and stalked off, demanding a glass of water from a kitchen-bot even though there was already water on a sideboard.

Nona had the sense they would all be arguing if it weren't for the guards who still stood there, holding weapons, and almost certainly listening to everything they said.

A serving-bot emerged from the suite's kitchen with a tray of simple sandwiches and flavored waters. The captives descended on the food as if they hadn't eaten in a week.

Sometime later, sleeping people littered the soft carpet. A few of them tossed and turned and moaned from time to time, probably not sleeping at all.

Nona was too worried about Chrystal to sleep. She must feel terribly alone, and Nona couldn't imagine they'd taken her for anything good. She wanted to see Chrystal again, tell her she was still her best and oldest friend in spite of everything. She had never said that; she had assumed Chrystal knew.

She took a spot on the floor and leaned against a wall. Dr. Nevening came over to sit by her, and stayed quiet. In spite of his high standing, he looked as frightened and tired as she felt.

“Do you know this Vadim?” Nona asked him in a whisper.

“I know of him. He's had a reputation as a rebel for a long time. He's rumored to have been associated with two changes in government—a mutiny on a ship and a coup on a small station. Do you remember the Aurora station?”

“Vaguely. Something about kicking out a Headman for stealing taxes?”

“That's the one. Vadim's never done more than throw insults at the Deep though, not as far as I know.”

“Do you think he set the bomb?”

Dr. Nevening shrugged. “That could have been almost anybody. I'm not at all surprised about this—I even tried to warn people in this morning's meeting.”

“The one with us?” She didn't remember that.

“No. We meet together every morning. All of the Councilors. Not for long, just to have a cup of stim and breakfast and argue about the day's news.”

“I had no idea.” Nona shifted position, trying to get more comfortable on the hard floor. “So what did you warn them about?”

“That this is the biggest threat we've ever faced. Ever.” He hesitated, and smiled. “Since we came here and landed on Lym anyway. The Next could wipe us all back to a far more primitive existence. A lot of people might die. It could also change us all, transform the whole way we look at the world. Maybe good, maybe bad. But we could become so different that you won't recognize yourself.”

Two new guards came in, replacing the others. Nona and Dr. Nevening were both silent during the change. After, Nona whispered, “You sound like the Futurist.”

“The difference between the Historian and the Futurist is just which direction we're looking.”

“Hiram seems worried.”

“He should be.” He patted her shoulder. “Rest some. Even historians know when to think about the moment.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

CHARLIE

Yi brought them into the long-term Port Authority docking station so smoothly that Charlie barely felt the final coupling. Charlie couldn't have done so well, and yet Yi didn't even look like he was piloting the ship. He and Jason were batting a silly golden ball of light through the air in some sort of virtual game.

Charlie sent a message to Nona, telling her which berth he'd parked the
Star Ghost
in. He added,
I'm back home and the crew is safe. Thank you for the loan of your ship. Hugs.

The little robot followed them through the lock, carrying three small backpacks plus its own repair kit. They all left their suits on and carried their helmets.

They'd had to pay a premium to keep the
Ghost
anywhere for long. Charlie turned down two offers to buy her, one of which would have doubled Nona's initial investment.

The station corridors were chaotic. People hurried through them in all directions. Here and there a single person or a family stood looking lost, creating an island others had to flow around. No one looked askance at any of the robots as he led them all toward the debarkation lounges where they could wait for the
Verdant Sun
. Every once in a while, Jason drew interested looks from women.

To Charlie's surprise, Jean Paul himself leaned on a wall just inside the door to the busy lounges.

They embraced. Jean Paul smelled of home, and of fresh air, and of the wild. Eventually, Charlie held Jean Paul at arm's length. “You've lost weight.”

“And you've gained some.”

Charlie laughed. “It isn't as much work to be in space.”

“The food must be good.”

“Not as good as here.”

A serious look crossed Jean Paul's face. “Let's not draw too much attention. Follow me.”

He led them to one of the exits and made for the far right-hand customs line. “Here. Let me go first.”

The line moved slowly as a uniformed customs agent questioned each person in detail.

Charlie fretted.

Jason and Yi kept up a conversation, sounding very human. Charlie couldn't tell if they looked wrong, since he had grown so accustomed to them.

When their turn came, Jean Paul spoke to the customs agent, his words inaudible given the background noise. The agent hesitated for a moment, and then waved them through.

Jean Paul led them to the correct docking facility and they climbed aboard the
Verdant Sun
. Kyle Glass, an ex-ranger whom Charlie hadn't seen in three years sat in the pilot seat. “Good to see you, boss.”

“You, too. There are no words for how good it is to be home.”

Kyle grinned. “Well, strap in and let's go.” Kyle glanced at the two soulbots, and Charlie caught both fear and worry in his eyes.

“It'll be okay,” he assured his old friend.

“Hope so. Let's be away before we get caught.”

The
Verdant Sun
was about a tenth the size of the
Star Ghost
, and mostly engine and cargo bay.

Based on the apprehension on Kyle's face, Charlie decided to keep the robots acting as human as possible. “Yi, Jason, stay suited and strap in.”

They nodded and complied. In the pilot's seat, Kyle's hands flew over a glassy control surface. The shuttle whined and shuddered and then pulled away.

Five minutes later, Jean Paul relaxed visibly. “We're safe. There's tons of news. These are Jason and Yi, right?”

Jason said, “I'm Jason.”

“I've seen pictures. Welcome, both of you.”

Kyle asked, “Did you know that the Diamond Deep is under attack?”

“From the Next?” Charlie tensed. Nona must be there. “Are they winning?”

“It's not the Next. Not yet. There's a group that wants to fight the Next—the Shining Revolution or some such thing. They've attacked the Deep and two other stations, but the Deep is the big one.”

That explained why the
Free Men
hadn't followed them to Lym. They were never its target in the first place. “I can't tell how big the attack is, not yet. There's more news though. The Deep's leaders have disappeared and there's apparently fighting inside that doesn't have anything to do with the Shining Revolution.”

Yi leaned as far forward as the straps allowed him to, his face a study in fierce worry. “What about Chrystal?”

“She's disappeared from the news. There's a rumor she's on one of the Shining Revolution ships. There's a counter-rumor that she's dead and another that she's with the leaders from the Deep, and a fourth rumor says she's in hiding.”

Jason reached for Yi's hand.

“So no one knows anything,” Charlie whispered. “What about Nona?”

“Nothing,” Jean Paul said.