The Lazarus Particle (13 page)

“Our patrol gave chase, inflicting significant damage.”

“Define ‘significant.’”

“Three confirmed kills, my Tj,” Jskaarl said, his excitement thinly veiled. He genuinely believed he was bringing her good news. Perhaps even game-changing news.

The tone of her voice suggested otherwise when she repeated, “Three confirmed kills.”

Jskaarl’s face fell. “Yes, my Tj, as you say. Is this news not agreeable to you?”

“No, it is not agreeable, you fool! Three confirmed kills? This is what we celebrate? A handful of human scum sent to meet their pathetic maker? At this rate it will be merely a millennium before we win this damn war!”

As quickly as it set upon her, the flash of rage dissipated.

It was replaced with a serene, almost reflective calm. “Oh, how I long for the days of overwhelming force and total annihilation,” she said wistfully. She began to strip out of her second skin despite Jskaarl’s continued presence.

He failed to pick up on the rhetorical nature of her sudden change in mood, his face screwing up with confusion. “Tj? I do not understand. The current counterinsurgency is of your own devising, hailed by colleagues and superiors alike as a brilliant tactical shift—yet you lament its success? Why?”

Kerikeshaala moved languidly through her hovel, toward the polished glass chamber in the far corner. She was of her first skin as she entered the chamber, choosing to leave the glass transparent as she engaged the operating system. She could have made it entirely opaque, or activated select panels strategically placed to conceal her genitalia, yet she chose not to. With the programming complete, she looked to Jskaarl. “Remove yourself from my presence.”

Jskaarl hesitated, weighing the possibility this was some fiendishly clever test he had failed to anticipate.

“Now, you fool.”

With Jskaarl gone, she engaged the silica shower she had programmed for herself. Almost immediately she was enveloped within a swirling maelstrom of fine, pearlescent powder localized entirely within that chamber. The tornadic storm wrapped her from head to toe, the silica scouring and exfoliating her first skin. The relief it brought her was indescribable.

It wasn’t long before thoughts of Jskaarl invaded her private reverie.

Jskaarl was reasonably competent in handling her day to day affairs, but the very notion of ‘thinking outside the box,’ as the humans termed it, fairly boggled his regimented, straightforward mind. He was efficient and precise and often acted in her stead of his own initiative, but imaginative? No. Not a word to be associated with Jskaarl.

When at last she had had her fill, Kerikeshaala disengaged the magnetic field. The maelstrom around her died as quickly as it had sprung to life, the magnetized silica shavings collecting in a small dune around her feet. A moment later they were gone, reclaimed by tiny vacuums in the semi-permeable floor for decontamination and future use.

Emerging from the chamber, she used the ship’s simulacra setting to turn her hovel into a faithful recreation of a Tyro meditation bog. She sat lotus-style amidst a copse of petrified wraith trees, a dozen ashen bodies surrounding her like an honor guard while high above their skeletal limbs whispered conspiratorially. Drifts of gaseous fog tinged iridescent shades of pink and green scudded about at ground level on cushions of cool, moisture-heavy air. A chorus of triggerflies trilled lightly, almost just beyond the range of her hearing. Even the air itself had an agreeably fecund quality about it, rich with the cloying aroma of death recycled and life renewed.

The effect was positively rejuvenating.

She was ready.

At her command a screen manifested itself before her, followed moments later by the inscrutably beaked face of Ndeeldavono: Zj Soliorana.

“Ah, Tj Yeleyhi. Communing with our ancestors, we see. A most noble pursuit, one we wholeheartedly endorse.”

“Thank you, Zj Soliorana. I find the experience to be most… enriching.”

“
Enriching
.” The Zj seemed to approve of her choice of words. “As do we, as do we. So. To what do we owe the—” His eyes flicked up and down her seated form. She had neglected to don her second skin after the silica shower, not altogether by accident. “—pleasure?”

“Why, I bring tidings from the Oviddian front, of course.”

“Ah! Well, do not leave us in suspense.”

“Just this day we have thwarted an attempted action against one of our most strategically vital installations,” she said, engaging in a bit of harmless hyperbole as all commanders were prone to do from time to time. “The enemy sustained several casualties before retreating behind their so-called No-Fly Line.”

“That is exceptional news, and most welcome, indeed. We congratulate your success, Tj Yeleyhi.”

“As you say, my Zj…”

“Do you doubt our praise, Kerikeshaala?”

“Of course not. Only the nature of our present position.” Before he could respond, she added, “I believe the time has come to shift strategy.”

The Zj thought her suggestion preposterous. That much she could tell without being told. Just when she thought he was preparing to ask the very question that had so bedeviled Jskaarl, he surprised her.

“Very well. You have our attention.”

“An accommodation,” the Zj repeated. “Of course you know the saying.”

“‘Accommodation is capitulation,’” Kerikeshaala recited. “Not applicable in these circumstances.” What she was proposing was anathema to all Tyroshi, she knew. What transpired next hinged upon the Zj’s willingness to look past millennia of history and tradition.

Once again, the Zj proved himself a willing broker for her vision of the future.

“Oh? We are intrigued. Do go on.”

Kerikeshaala smiled with her eyes. “I suggest an exchange. Without condition, they arrest and transfer into our custody Commandant Soroya of Shih’ra, Flight Commander Vichante Harm, as well as several of their uppermost support staff.”

The Zj regarded her dubiously. “And in exchange?”

“In exchange?” Tj Yeleyhi laughed airily. “Why, my Zj, they would be traitors. I do not suppose I need to quote the policy concerning the treatment of traitors.”

“You do not. Hmm.” Zj Soliorana seemed to practically titter with excitement as he considered her proposal. “You believe the outcome feasible?”

“The counterinsurgency has proven most successful in quelling the enthusiasm and disrupting the momentum associated with the Free Oviddia Front. It alone has not broken their spirits, but it has laid the groundwork. The Front is fractured; intelligence suggests the Natives and the Nons are at odds with how to proceed. I believe that if we play to the Natives—more specifically, that if we offer them amnesty in exchange for the Nons I have specified as well as a promise on our behalf to leave their planet and not return—they will accede.” She paused a beat, then added, for effect, “Their resolve is frayed, Zj. Their morale is in short supply. I believe they are amenable to an alternative outcome.”

“And you are prepared to present them with just such a solution, pending our endorsement?”

“Ah,” Tj Yeleyhi said, allowing a tone of amusement to inflect her delivery. “Present, yes. Honor… not quite, no.”

Zj Soliorana offered his best take on a human smirk. “Indeed. Now we come full circle.”

“Precisely.”

“Allowing that you are correct as to the circumstances, what incentive do they have to act upon the—” He worked his mandibles uncomfortably, as if the word itself were something he had to forcibly dislodge from within his gullet. “—
accommodation
you propose to offer?”

“Why, the very thing that makes them human, Zj. These beings are irrational; they cling to coincidence, rely upon reason, and practically worship at the altar of predictable outcomes. When a possibility they feel is beyond scope or hope lands in their laps, they may regard it suspiciously at first, they may sniff and inspect and wonder at it, but surely enough they will come to regard it as being of the provenance of that silly creature they call ‘God.’ I believe the precise terminology is a ‘miracle.’”

“Your proposal is most intriguing, Tj Yeleyhi. Unorthodox, perhaps, but intriguing nonetheless. Naturally you would remind us we said as much of your proposal to counter their insurgency, and you would be correct. We were skeptical. However, you have acquitted yourself adroitly in the matter, with results falling well within the acceptability matrix. Very well. You have our endorsement.”

“Gratitude, my Zj. I shall endeavor that you do not regret it.”

“Excellent,” Zj Soliorana said. When he continued, he seemed to be speaking more personally, even intimately. “No doubt you are aware of the consequences should this gamble of ours fail to pay dividends. The rapid ascent of your clan has not gone unnoticed by your peers. You are quite the subject of discussion in more than a few very prestigious circles.”

“I suppose it was only a matter of time,” she allowed. Indeed, she well knew. She was not without her sources within the other clans. “Though I have precious little time for such discussions. My focus is fixed elsewhere, as you well know.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Still, there are those among said circles who might resent such a rapid rise by a perceived upstart. We would assure you, Tj Yeleyhi, that we are not among them. We believe your ambition to be most commendable. It is no small thing, what you have accomplished. And if this latest gambit of yours were to succeed, why, we dare say the old guard would have every right to be concerned.” He paused, allowing her a moment to absorb the weight of all he was disclosing to her. “Naturally this would create certain… complications. Complications we are uniquely equipped to confront. Although you have proven yourself to be a most able commander, you are ill-prepared to face the battles you will have to fight in this arena. It is our belief that a strategic alliance would be most beneficial to both our clans.”

“You honor me, Zj,” she replied with all due reverence to the prospect. Not that she was expected to oblige him with an immediate response. The customary grace period would allow her to secure the advantage of her position in other ways. “I shall require time to consider the full scope of your generous offer, of course.”

“We would have it no other way,” Ndeeldavono assured her. “Do not let thought of such things distract you from prosecuting your objective. Make no mistake, this is of paramount importance to both our futures.”

“As you say, my Zj.” She bowed her head just so. “We shall speak again soon. This I vow.”

“Indeed. Good hunting, Kerikeshaala: Tj Yeleyhi. End transmission.”

As the screen dissipated before her very eyes, Kerikeshaala rose from the lotus position wearing only a hungry, denuding smile and her first skin.

It was all falling into place. Soon the Free Planetary Irregulars would be broken and scattered to the solar winds, Ndeeldavono’s clan would be hers, and she would be Kerikeshaala:
Zj
Yeleyhi.

But first, she had a coup to stage.

“End simulacra sequence.”

15 • DISCORD

Come whatever else may, the chain of command was sacrosanct. The immersion chambers, as such, were reserved for the worst offenders of that rarefied chain. Certainly a deck rat laying into a flight commander not just once but twice qualified her for such a dubious distinction, and that was exactly how Alexia woke to find herself.

She tried to rage but could find nothing to pound upon. She wanted to scream but couldn’t even hear her voice over the crushing din of silence packing her ears. And when at last she remembered her brother was dead and she was truly alone, not just in the chamber but in life, she cried and cried and never once felt a single tear or heard any of the deep, racking sobs that left her curled half-conscious on what she took to be the chamber’s floor.

She stayed that way for days—or hours, or minutes. It was impossible to tell. Her mind started to play tricks on her. She was sure Dell was with her, but how could that be? He was dead. Wasn’t that why she was so miserable? And even if he weren’t, and was somehow with her, how would she have known? She would have laughed at the thought if her laughter didn’t die the moment it left her lips.

Something had to give, she knew. Finally, it did. She thought the loud, reverberating
snick-snack
that revived her was literally the sound of her mind snapping in two. Alexia started to crack up, about to give herself over to the sweet relief of madness when she realized she could hear herself laughing.
Really
laughing. The noise she heard wasn’t a long-overdue psychic break but the disruption of the magnetic field locking tight both the door to the chamber and her senses.

She pushed up from the floor with one hand, shielding her eyes with the other in anticipation of the door opening. The light beyond was tremendously bright after two days in pitch darkness. She hissed through her teeth as it practically barged into the tiny chamber, forcing its way through even her tightly clenched eyelids. They glowed rosy and hot as she stirred, trying by degrees to force her pupils to adjust, but even the slightest exposure was like a spike right through the retina. She mewled softly and balled herself into a tangle of limbs, doing everything she could to keep the light out.

“DeCoud, get up. We need the space for another troublemaker. Hope you tidied up. Don’t need to hose it out, do I?”

“Please, allow her a minute to collect herself.”

“Ain’t got a minute, bud. What I got is a schedule to keep. Why don’t you do all of us a favor and give her a hand out if you’re so concerned about her?”

“Loathe though I am to admit it, I believe the unpleasant man may be right. Shall we, Gatz?”

“As you say.”

The voices registered distantly, like a long-forgotten conversation inexplicably remembered, but the sensation of hands upon her was jarring and immediate. Alexia lashed out, fighting against the hands clawing at her, threatening to drag her into the clutches of oblivion. As weak as she was, this proved a passing outburst. It was driven purely by instinct but otherwise unsustainable. Very shortly she fell limp in the arms of her assailants, breathless and barely conscious.