Marauder (48 page)

‘And we’re sure this is the right address?’ asked Dakota.

‘As sure as I can be,’ Bash murmured, as he came up beside her. ‘That’s assuming the private detective I paid to locate Stiles knew what he was doing.’

She gave him a weary shrug. ‘Only one way to find out.’

They entered the foyer, then made their way up a flight of stairs to an apartment situated on the top floor. Dakota rapped on the door and waited. They heard footsteps and,
after a moment, Martha Stiles opened the door. Her eyes widened when she recognized them, one hand clutching her chest as if she was having trouble breathing.

Dakota glanced past her and into the apartment beyond. It looked small and tidy and colourfully decorated. Several bright and glittering ‘Tears of Saint Jarô’ charms hung from
the hallway ceiling.

‘Mind if we come in?’ asked Dakota, stepping over the threshold before the woman could even form a reply.

They waited in the lounge as Stiles fetched Evie for them. Whenever she had thought about this moment, or what it would feel like, Dakota had imagined feelings of happiness
– or of joy tinged with sorrow. Instead, she felt like a weary traveller at the end of a long journey, wanting nothing more than to conclude her business here and be on her way.

She could see how nervous Stiles was as she led the tiny girl through into the room where she and Bash waited. Stiles took a seat on a couch, and Evie blinked wide grey eyes at them before
burying her face against Stiles’s knee in a sudden fit of shyness. Her hair was thin and pale, and curled around her ears.

Dakota could see how deeply attached Stiles had become to Gabrielle’s daughter. She could see that she feared they had come to take Evie away.

‘I’ve read some official reports about that attack on the outpost,’ said Dakota. ‘You and Evie here were the only survivors – am I right?’

‘It wasn’t easy,’ said Stiles, helping Evie to climb up onto the couch beside her, where she babbled to herself in little-girl words. ‘I was stuck there for more than ten
days before a rescue team finally turned up. I told them Evie belonged to one of the staff, and that was enough for them.’ Her eyes drifted towards Bash, and she shook her head. ‘The
last time I saw you, you were a vegetable, completely unresponsive. And now here you are.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘It
is
you, isn’t it?’ She leaned forward slightly and
peered intently into his face. ‘I haven’t made a mistake?’

‘You haven’t,’ Bash smiled wryly. ‘I could tell you how I recovered, but you wouldn’t believe me – not in a million years.’

They waited in silence as Stiles took time to gather her thoughts further.

‘The funny thing is, I hated your guts for a long time,’ she said at last, her tone matter-of-fact. Bash and Dakota exchanged a surreptitious glance as she continued. ‘I held
you directly responsible for bringing those dreadful people down upon us. They murdered everyone I knew there, and I had to stand and watch them all die. And then . . .’ Stiles paused and
drew a heavy breath. ‘But every time I ran things through my head, trying to find a different way of doing things, a way that wouldn’t have ended up with so many innocent people dying,
I realized I couldn’t have done things any differently. I could never have forced you back out after we found you, or abandoned you in the middle of nowhere, not with one of you pregnant and
the other operating like a walking corpse. No matter what, I was always going to do things just as I wound up doing them. And that means that what happened was always going to happen.’

Dakota leaned towards her. ‘Martha—’

‘It took a long time,’ Stiles interrupted her, ‘but one day I was able to think clearly, and I saw I was wrong to hold you responsible. You were victims just as much as we
were. What Gabrielle told me made that clear, however outrageous her story seemed.’ She cast a bitter look at Dakota. ‘But I can’t tell you how much I regret not just letting you
take that damn truck the first time you asked for it.’

Choosing her next words carefully, Dakota asked, ‘What brought you here, to Jarô? Do you come from here originally?’

She shook her head. ‘No, somewhere a lot less colourful. But I had a powerful need to get as far from Redstone as I physically could, and you can’t get much further than
here.’

Evie pulled herself onto Stiles’s lap, making cooing noises. ‘Maybe I should have mentioned this first, Martha,’ said Dakota, ‘but I’m not here to take Evie away. I
just wanted the chance to see her before I head off.’

She didn’t need to look at Bash to detect his expression. His disapproval was entirely palpable.

Stiles visibly relaxed. ‘Then, can you tell me what happened to her?’ she asked, looking between the pair of them. ‘Gabrielle, I mean. After those people kidnapped her, I
thought maybe . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

‘She died,’ said Dakota. ‘I’m sorry.’

Stiles’s face crumpled a little, and she bowed her head. ‘God damn it,’ she breathed. ‘And those men? The ones who took her?’

‘Dead, too,’ said Dakota. ’They got what they deserved.’

Stiles nodded tightly. ‘Good. I’m glad to hear that.’

Dakota noticed Evie staring at her. She waggled her fingers at the little girl, who smiled uncertainly, glancing up at Stiles for reassurance.

‘May I?’ asked Dakota.

Stiles rose from her seat, carrying Evie and carefully placing her beside Dakota. Dakota brushed a strand of hair from Evie’s face, thinking:
This is the nearest I’ll ever get to
having a daughter of my
own
. And since she and Gabrielle had identical DNA, in a sense Evie
was
her daughter – or the daughter she might have had, if ever she had lived
a normal life.

Bash got up from his chair and came to sit on Evie’s other side, giving her a hand-sized star prism. She took it, smiling hesitantly.

‘Here.’ Bash reached down and took hold of it again. ‘You have to shake it, like this.’

It started to glow, and Evie gave a tiny cry of delight.

sent Bash.

Dakota replied, staring at the child in astonishment. Somehow, incredible as it seemed, Evie was probing the edges of the machine-part of her consciousness
– something that should be impossible for anyone lacking implants.

She glanced at Stiles, who clearly sensed something was up.

sent Bash, after stroking the top of Evie’s head, which was entirely free of the bumps and crenellations that usually indicated the presence of implants. else entirely. Look . . . the Ship of the Covenant tweaked the DNA of the original Speaker-Elect, right? And all of you are her clones?>

You’re not really human, are you
? she thought with a chill, staring down at Evie with new eyes.
Part of you is, but the rest is all Magi.

Evie clearly wasn’t a machine-head, but neither was she a normal human girl. She was something new; something Dakota didn’t even think there was a word for.

But she was still flesh and blood. She was still Gabrielle’s daughter.

Dakota had a fleeting mental image of brightly coloured, fuzzy shapes that moved and twisted in new and enticing ways. A kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations accompanied this image, and she
sensed fear and excitement and wonder and curiosity all mixed together. Most importantly, it was coming from Evie.

‘Here,’ she said, lifting Evie up and handing her back to a puzzled-looking Stiles.

The older woman cleared her throat, after she had settled Evie back on to the couch beside her. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, just what are your plans?’

‘Speaking for myself,’ said Dakota, ‘I’m only visiting here briefly. Then I’m moving on.’

Stiles nodded with a sigh. ‘I’ve grown . . . rather attached to Evie,’ she said quietly. ‘But I guess that’s obvious.’

Dakota remembered the story about Stiles’s dead teenaged daughter. ‘I’ve already said I’m not going to take her away from you, Martha. As a matter of fact, I can’t
think of anyone better suited to take care of her.’

Stiles nodded, looking slightly stunned. ‘Just how long are you going away for?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Dakota forced a brittle smile. ‘Which is one reason why it was important to me to have this opportunity of seeing Evie.’
In case I never get
another chance
.

Stiles suddenly looked weary and old beyond her years. ‘Then at least promise me that no one else will come and try to threaten or hurt either of us. I’ve had quite enough of that
kind of thing for one lifetime.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ Bash reassured her. ‘But, just in case, I’m personally sticking around here for a while.’

Stiles peered at him. ‘You’re not going together?’

‘I’ve decided to stay here on Jarô,’ he explained. ‘I’ve missed out on a lot of living over these past ten years, so I want to settle in one place and get to
know it. And, besides,’ he nodded towards Evie, ‘I could help out, if you ever wanted me to.’

Dakota watched Stiles sizing him up before nodding hesitantly.

She stood up. ‘We should probably be going now. We’re staying at a place in the centre of town for the next couple of days.’ Dakota recited the address. ‘If you need us,
you’ll find us there.’

‘Before you go,’ said Stiles, ‘I want to know more about just
why
my friends died. What Gabrielle told me wasn’t enough for me really to understand all of it.
It’s been . . . hard to find any real closure, not really comprehending the details.’

‘Whenever you want to know them, Miss Stiles,’ said Bash, ‘you and I are going to go find somewhere we can sit down over a couple of drinks. Because it’s the kind of
story that takes a long time to tell.’

Having said their goodbyes, they headed down the stairs and out into the night, without looking back.

After walking a few blocks, Dakota pressed her back against a doorway and clasped her hands over her face. Bash knew enough not to say or do anything, beyond resting a comforting hand on her
shoulder.

‘It doesn’t have to be this way, you know,’ he said quietly, once she was ready to start moving again. By now they were almost at their hotel. ‘I know you’ve told
me to shut the hell up often enough, but let me say it just one last time: You could stay here and make a new life for yourself.’

Even this late at night, there were still a few revellers left, as they trudged together through the alcohol-sodden debris. ‘No, Bash,’ she said quietly. ‘I told you why I
can’t do that.’

‘Dak—’

‘Not now,’ she said firmly.

Bash once again showed his good judgement by saying nothing more.

Even living in real time for the duration of their journey back to the worlds of the Accord, Dakota had found plenty of opportunity to think.

The Makers were still out there, still carrying on their aeons-spanning project to reshape the universe from within the core of not only the Milky Way but other galaxies as well. The question
still remained:
why
had they undertaken this extraordinary project?

Why you?
Bash had asked, during one of their numerous arguments.
Why does it have to be you, and not someone else?

Why
not
me?
she had countered.
There’s no one else who knows what I know. That means I have to go.

You told me yourself there were other yous out there,
he had retorted.
Other Dakotas.

But those other Dakotas hadn’t experienced all that she had over the last ten years, and that made all the difference. She saw things more clearly now, and no longer blamed herself for
things in her past that she should never have blamed herself for in the first place. She understood things that those other Dakotas never could.

Martha Stiles wasn’t the only one desperate for a sense of closure. Dakota needed it too, and so it had to be her and no one else. She would travel to the core of the galaxy, and there she
would attempt to discover the ultimate purpose of the Makers – and, if possible, find a way to destroy them that didn’t mean genocide for the rest of the galaxy.

And if she failed, perhaps one of those other Dakotas would finally get her turn.

They arrived at the hotel, a slim, sideways-leaning shard of dark glass lit by glow-lamps. Bash took a step towards the entrance, then turned to see her still standing in the
middle of the street.

‘What, you’re leaving
now
?’ he asked, with a pained look on his face.

‘I can’t stay here any longer,’ she said.

Bash let out a groan.

‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Don’t tell me to stay. Please just let me turn around and go.’

She fought to control her emotions. It would be so easy just to stay, never to leave, to watch Evie grow tall and slender and womanly.

And that was precisely why she had to leave as soon as possible, before her determination had a chance to waver.

He stepped over to her and pulled her into a hug that felt likely to crush the breath out of her.

‘I’ll miss you,’ he said, into her shoulder, his voice already muffled with emotion. ‘I’ll miss you so very much, Megan – or Dakota or whatever damn fool name
you’re using this week.’

She let him hold her like that for a minute, before carefully extracting herself.

‘Take care her of her for me,’ she said. ‘For both of us. Always watch over her.’

He sniffed, his eyes glistening. ‘You’ll be back?’

‘If it’s at all humanly possible,’ she said, ‘I will.’

She hoped, more than anything, that this was true.

She turned around then and walked away. Heading across the nearby square, she kept walking until she reached the foot of the funicular railway, some of whose vertical cars were the size of small
houses. She climbed aboard one and stood facing the wall of the chasm itself as it rose into the night. She was now thinking of the Magi ship waiting, hidden, in Jarô’s outer system
– waiting to take her to the core of the galaxy . . . and all that might await her there.