The Snow Queen (67 page)

Tor barely
registered the burn of the antidote as the Commander’s space was filled by an
even more unexpected face. “Pollux!” The word didn’t quite form, but control
was coming back to her; she felt it climb through the levels in her mind like a
drug rush.

“Tor. Are
you all right?”

“What ...
what ... did you ... say?” She gulped and gasped.

“Tor. Are
you all right?”“ he repeated, as tonelessly as before. He bent forward,
offering her his arm as she tried to get her feet under her. She took the arm
gratefully, hauling herself up.

“Whoo.” She
put a hand to her head, dizzy with relief, leaning heavily against him. Her
fingers sank into the soft frizz of her skewed wig; she pushed at it absently
... hearing again the last words the Source had spoken to her. She closed her
hand, jerked the wig off her head and threw it down. “Since when have you had a
vocabulary, you can of bolts?” She leaned back, staring into Pollux’s
inscrutable non face felt a grin of triumph spread across her own. “Hellfire
... I was right about you. You old fraud! Why didn’t you ever talk to me
before, damn it?”

“Just a
little joke, Tor.” Deadpan.

“Hah.
That’s the kind of laughs you’d expect from a machine. How long’ve you been
able to talk like that?”

“Since I
was programmed at the police academy on Kharemough.”

“The what?”

“Cancel
that, Pollux.” The Commander reappeared on his other side, frowning. “You
really do need work ... You can thank Pollux for your timely rescue, Starhiker.
And I think I can thank him for a lot more—if you’ll tell me I’m right in what
I figure was going on here.” She pointed a thumb at the lab and the captives
behind her.

“Thanks,
Pollux.” Tor burnished his chest softly with her hand. “They were going to
start a plague,” she felt her legs weave under her again, “and kill all the
Summers with it.”

PalaThion
nodded as if it was what shed expected to hear. “Who put them up to it?”

Tor looked
down.

“The Snow
Queen?”

Startled, she
nodded, feeling inexplicable shame at admitting it to an off worlder “That’s
what they said.”

“That’s
what I thought.” PalaThion smiled coldbloodedly no longer seeing her. “I’ve
beaten her at last! Unless ...” She shook her head, glancing away as another
Blue entered the room, an inspector this time. “Mantagnes?” she said eagerly.

But the
inspector shook his head grimly. “We missed him, Commander.”

“Jaakola?
How the hell could you possibly—”

“I don’t
know!” He met her anger with his own. “When we broke into his office, he was
gone. We searched everywhere—a fly couldn’t have hidden in there! They’re still
searching ... but he had a way out, and we haven’t traced it yet.”

“He won’t
get off-planet.” PalaThion pulled at the empire sign on her belt buckle. “We’ll
get him.”

“Don’t bet
on it.” Mantagnes studied his feet, disgusted.

“Then let
him try finding a hiding place from charges of attempted genocide.” She waved a
hand. “Woldantuz, let’s put these other beautiful people in the bottle where
they belong. At least we’ve got all the evidence. And a witness. Starhiker,
I’ll need your testimony.”

“Count on
it, Blue.” Tor nodded, feeling her urge for revenge blaze up as C’sunh was led
past her. Two of the others followed him before she saw Oyarzabal.

“Persipone?”
He pulled his guard to a stop. “I guess I won’t be takin’ you with me after
all. Not where I’m bound now.”

“You wanted
to make me into a vegetable, you lousy bastard! That’s all you ever wanted!”
She pushed past PalaThion to stand in front of him. “I hope you stay there
until you rot. I hope you never even see another woman—” She remembered
suddenly that he had tried to stop it at the last; and that the few seconds he
had won her had made all the difference.

“I didn’t
want you dead, that’s all! Even havin’ you like that was better than havin’ you
dead.” He leaned toward her; the Blue held him back.

“Speak for
yourself.” She folded her arms. “Since you’re the only one you seem to think
about.”

He looked
away, at PalaThion. “If you want what I know about this, just ask. I’ll tell
you anything.” PalaThion nodded, and one of the other men swore under his
breath. Tor realized that Oyarzabal’s life wouldn’t be worth a drunkard’s damn
from now on, no matter where they sent him.

And there
would be no getting off this world for her now, no matter what she did.
Oh, gods, why can’t I ever do anything
right?
She hugged herself tightly, because there was no one else left to
hold her, or to hold. She felt PalaThion look at her, found an unexpected
sympathy in the woman’s eyes. PalaThion’s head moved imperceptibly, until she
was looking at Oyarzabal, and past him.

Tor stepped
forward, still holding onto herself, protecting herself, as she closed with
Oyarzabal. She kissed him briefly on the mouth. She stepped back again, and they
wouldn’t let him follow. “So long, Oyar.”

He didn’t
answer her. The Blues led him out of the room. Tor moved back to stand beside
Pollux. Why is it? Why is it?
That you
never want what you’ve got till you’ve thrown it away?

Jerusha
leaned forward across the duty desk, craning her neck to follow the sight of
Dr. C’sunh and his fellow would-be genocides being led away into the detention
wing.
Oh, sweet revenge!
There was
nothing sweet in her smile. She had broken Arienrhod’s plot at the last
possible moment; and even though she couldn’t touch Arienrhod herself, she had
set the Summers on her, and they would keep her safe until the day of her
execution.
Maybe there is some justice in
the universe, after all.
“Starhiker!”

Tor
Starhiker glanced through the thinning screen of self congratulatory blue
uniforms; she sat drinking strong tea under the watchful ga/e of Pollux. She
got up from the bench, came striding through the patrolmen toward the desk.
Jerusha watched her come with bemused interest. Her clinging body wrap left
considerably more of her chunky body uncovered than it covered; she walked like
a dockhand, oblivious to the casual ogling of the men she passed. A plain,
pragmatic face was emerging through the smeared makeup, and her lank mouse-colored
hair was chopped off bluntly at ear length.
Ye
gods, there’s a human being in there
. Jerusha remembered abruptly that one
of the men she had just sent away seemed to be in love with that human being.
Damn it, why can’t right be right and wrong
be wrong ... why can’t it be simple, just once? I’m sick of gray.
She shook
it off as the woman stood before her. “How are you doing?”

Tor
shrugged, lost a drape of cloth and pulled it back onto her shoulder. “All
right, I guess. I mean, considering ...” She looked i away at the doorway to
the detention block.

“Well
enough for a monitored testimony?”

“Sure.” Tor
sighed. “I guess I don’t get to appear at the trial, huh?” She rested her hands
on her hips.

The trial
would be held on some other world now. Jerusha smiled, understanding the irony.
“Consider yourself lucky. Dr. C’sunh has a lot of friends, and they’re all out
there.” She gestured at the ceiling.

Tor made a
face. “At least once we’re gone from Tiamat, you’ll be safe from them. Your
statement will do all the damage that you could, as long as it’s properly
recorded; and I’ll make damn sure it is, believe me. I just hope it’ll be
enough to drag in the Source. If the—” She broke off as a fresh clot of
strangers entered the station. No, not strangers. She stood up, saw everyone
else in the room turn to stare with her.

“What the—”

“Arienrhod?”

“Moon!” She
heard herself say it, heard Tor echo it, without taking time to wonder. She saw
two sturdy Summers behind the girl, carrying Gundhalinu’s body. “Shit ... I”

Moon
hesitated as she saw Jerusha move out from behind the desk, but she stood her
ground resolutely as the handful of patrolmen gathered around them.

“Who’s
that?”

“Gundhalinu!”

“I thought
he was—”

“Is he
dead?” Jerusha caught Moon by the shoulder, all her perspective gone.

“No!”
Jerusha saw the anguish on the girl’s face as she wrenched her around, and she
let her go in surprise. “He isn’t dead. But he’s sick, he needs a medic.”
Moon’s hand reached out toward him, couldn’t quite touch him.

“That
didn’t matter much to you two days ago, did it?” Jerusha looked past her at
Gundhalinu’s lolling head and closed eyes, his gaunt, sweating face. She
gestured for two of her own men to take him away from the Summers. “Get him
over to the med center; hurry. And carefully, damn it! He’s worth more than
diamonds to me.”

They
carried him away, carefully. The two Summers nodded at Moon, almost making
obeisances, and went back out into the alley. Moon didn’t try to follow them,
or Gundhalinu, with more than her eyes. She had gotten herself a long golden
gown somewhere; even with her hair straggling down around her face her
resemblance to Arienrhod was incredible.

“And you’re
under arrest, Dawntreader, in case you’d forgotten.”
My gods, this is too much for one day.
She lifted her hand,
summoning another officer.

Moon
grimaced. “I haven’t forgotten you, Commander. BZ ... Inspector Gundhalinu ...
I escaped. He found me again. He was bringing me in when he collapsed.” She
said it all unblinkingly.

“Sure he
was.” Jerusha unhooked the binders from her belt, said very softly, “That’s the
biggest crock I ever heard. Fortunately I choose to believe it, for
Gundhalinu’s sake.” She saw the girl’s marked throat, remembering abruptly that
she was a sibyl. Jerusha lowered her hands with the binders toward her belt
again, grudgingly. “I suppose these aren’t necessary, sibyl. But you didn’t
come here to tell me that. Why the hell did you come?”

Moon smiled
briefly, ironically; the expression looked alien on her face. She stopped
smiling. “I came because the Queen wants to cause a plague to kill all the
Summers in the city, and I know who’s going to start it.”

“You’re too
late.” Jerusha grinned with self-satisfied triumph, until she saw Moon’s
reaction. “No—I mean we’ve already stopped it. We’ve got the guilty parties,
they’re our permanent guests right now.” She gestured toward the lockup,
mellowing in the warmth of fortune’s smile.

“Already?
It’s over? They didn’t—” Moon glanced over her shoulder at the station
entrance. She looked back at Jerusha again, stricken, abruptly realizing that
she had sacrificed her freedom for nothing.

“They
didn’t. The Summers are safe. Arienrhod has failed, and she’s under house
arrest. She won’t get away from your Lady.” A passing patrolman called
congratulations to her; she nodded.

Moon’s face
twitched as though she didn’t know what to feel, as though there were more
layers to the knowledge than even she could penetrate. “How ... how did you
find out?” wearily.

“By chance;
with unintentional cooperation from—” She turned to Tor Starhiker,
eavesdropping behind her.

“Hey, kid,”
Tor raised a hand, and Moon blinked with recognition. “Hey, Pollux, come here!”

“Persipone?”
Moon half frowned at Tor’s unglamorized face, still only half-sure. She looked
past her as the polrob came toward them.

“What’s she
under arrest for?” Tor jerked a thumb at Moon, indignantly, a little too
impressed with her own role as key witness. “It’s not against the law to
impersonate the Queen, is it? Not your laws, anyhow.”

“That
depends on how well you do it,” Jerusha said. She shifted her weight from one
foot to the other. “You know each other?”

“Since
today. That seems like forever.” Tor shook her head, strained for a smile.
“Look what she’s done to your hairdo, Polly .... So what happened, cousin? Did
you find him? Did you get him out of the palace? Did you see the Queen—did she
see you?”

“You were
in the palace?” Jerusha demanded. The clear wall of official accusation turned
the girl into a prisoner again. “To meet the Queen—”

Moon felt
the change, and defiance beat back at her. “To find my cousin!” She glanced
quickly at Tor, nodded, blushing. “You know what ... who I am, don’t you,
Commander?”

Jerusha
nodded, keeping her distance mentally. “I’ve known for a long time.” Tor looked
blank beside her.

“So has
everyone; except me,” Moon murmured bitterly. “I was the last to know.”

“I still
don’t know,” Tor said.

“Did
Gundhalinu tell you?”

“No,
Arienrhod did.” Moon twisted a strand of hair.

Jerusha
started. “You saw her?”

“Yes,” almost
a whisper. “She wanted me with her to share ... everything. Even
Sparks
,” coldly. Moon
reddened again; angry, not ashamed. “She wanted me to forget that I’m pledged
to him; forget that I’m a Summer; forget that I’m a sibyl. And when I wouldn’t
forget, she tried to kill me.”