Zero Recall (52 page)

Because he could
do nothing else, Jer’ait solemnly touched his paddle to his zora slit above his
eyes in a Va’gan salute.  “Your trust is not misplaced.” 

The Human made a
miserable sound and just shook his head. 

Jer’ait opened
his mouth to try and ease his mind, but the door burst open behind them and
they both turned.

“That’s him,” a
Jahul in Peacemaker battle garb said, pointing a slender forearm into the room
at the table where Flea was being re-inflated by a horde of doctors.  A dozen
armed Ooreiki grounders trudged in after him, their heavy, boneless bodies
sporting full biosuits and tunnel gear.

Both Joe and
Jer’ait stiffened.

An Ooreiki
Overseer—the only newcomer not wearing a biosuit or carrying a gun—stepped into
the room on their heels, scanning both Joe and Jer’ait before his eyes came to
rest on Jer’ait.  “Are you that Baga’s groundleader?”

“Yes,” Jer’ait
said.

Joe sighed and
stepped forward.  “I’m his groundleader.  What’s this about?”

The Jahul
Peacemaker stepped forward, interrupting whatever the uniformed Ooreiki was
going to say.  “Are you aware he has been spying on the Overseer battleroom for
the last rotation?”

To his credit,
Joe never batted an eye.  “Yeah.”

This was
obviously not the response the Jahul had expected.  The Peacemaker blustered. 
“You
knew
and didn’t inform us?”

“Hell, no, I
didn’t inform you,” Joe said.  “I ordered it.”

You did not,
you furg,
Jer’ait thought, stiffening. 
Why are you taking the fall for
that little pest?

The Jahul was
all but shaking in fury.  “Are you aware that the sentence for treason is
death?”

“Didn’t see it
as treason,” Joe said.  “Thought we had a right to know.”

The Jahul
sputtered.  “Commander Zero, if you think your impressive history will change
our—”

“It won’t,” Joe said. 
“But I also know you’re not going to break up a groundteam that’s
single-handedly taken down three princes.”

The Jahul
Peacemaker straightened on its four back legs, the dig-long spines on its back
bristling into the air.  Its two grasping arms were folded back in rage. 
“You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Yes.”

The Jahul’s tiny
black eyes flickered from the Human, then to Jer’ait, then back at the Baga,
who was still sprawled in an unconscious pancake.  Jer’ait watched the Jahul
take the challenge, his tiny mind churning in rage as he mentally prepared his
command to disband their team and take Joe to the brig. 

“You may leave,
now,” Jer’ait said, his eyes catching pointedly on his comrade’s chest.  “
Ninth
Hjai.”

The Jahul
hesitated, his inky black eyes settling on Jer’ait in confusion.  “Who in
Hagra’s name are you?  Where’s your rank, soldier?”

Jer’ait gave him
a flat stare.  “I must have left it back on Levren.”

That made the
Jahul twitch, but he obviously didn’t catch the reference.  Which meant he hadn’t
read the whole team’s file.  Which meant he was a furg.

The Jahul
narrowed his huge black eyes, then turned to face Joe again, once more ignoring
Jer’ait.  He opened his mouth to give the order—

“Don’t let it
happen again,” the uniformed Ooreiki Overseer interrupted.

The Jahul
snapped his greenish head around, glaring at his companion.  “Overseer, that
almost sounded as if you were going to give him a
warning.
  This is a
Peacemaker matter.  Commander Zero has committed—”

“Just shut up
and go,” the Ooreiki said.  “My peers sent me here to talk with him, nothing
more.”

“I second that,”
Jer’ait said.  “Shut up and go.  And next time, read the
whole
file
before you start trying to throw around rank,
Ninth
Hjai.”

The Jahul
flinched and his small black eyes scanned Jer’ait’s forehead, the  nervous
trait Jahul had when they were reading a victim’s emotions.  The slick sheen of
excrement flowed over the Jahul’s mottled green-gray skin.  Then the sextuped
turned and stormed off, leaving the Ooreiki Overseer behind. 

In the silence
that followed, the Ooreiki cleared his throat.  “I appreciate your loyalty to
your groundmates, Commander Zero.  But the other Overseers don’t.  I told them
I could put an end to the spying.  If it happens again, I won’t be able to stop
them.”  He hesitated, glancing once more at Flea.  “You’re lucky I could sway
them.  By all rights, the Baga belongs in the brig right now.”

“He belongs on a
goddamn Ueshi pleasure planet, enjoying the three mil from his
kasja.
” 
Joe stepped forward, until he was face-to-face with the thick, sticky-eyed
Ooreiki.  “But you’re planning on sending us back until we die.  Then you’ll
never have to pay up, will you?”

The Ooreiki’s
expression hardened.  “The Baga told you this?”

“No,” Joe said. 
“You just did.”

The room seemed
to be suspended in silence as the Overseer returned the Human’s stare. 
Finally, without a word, he turned and departed, taking the nervous Ooreiki
grounders with him.  The medics finished their re-inflation of the Baga’s
carapace, then they, too, left them.

The Human let
out a huge sigh and turned back to the Baga’s unconscious form.  Shaking his
head, he raised his slender, bony fingers to touch his brow.

The Dhasha prince’s final
words returned to Jer’ait as he watched the struggle upon the Human’s face. 

“You’ve
survived three deep dens.  He obviously wants you alive.”

Forgotten was playing
them all like fools, but he wanted them alive.  Why?

It made no sense.

“Joe,” Jer’ait asked
tentatively, “Do you know anyone by the name of Jemria?”

Joe dropped his hand from
his face and turned to frown at him.  “Haven’t heard of her.  Why?”

“Just curious.  He
sometimes calls himself Forgotten.”

“What kind of furg calls
himself Forgotten?”

Obviously, the Human did
not have the creative capacity to have attracted the Geuji’s interest. 
Jer’ait’s frustration increased.  He wanted to blurt out everything he knew,
but he doubted the Human would understand.  Nor would he be very happy to find
out Jer’ait’s mission there was to kill him.

“What’s wrong, Jer’ait?”

For an insane moment,
Jer’ait felt like telling the Human everything anyway.  Then he shrugged it
off.  “Once Flea stabilizes, I would like to talk to you about the remedies I
have for your phobia.”

“It’s not a phobia,” the Human
said, a bit too defensively.  “It’s just the shakes.”

“It’s the sign of a hasty
medical remedy that’s crumbling as we speak.”

Joe flinched.  “How’d you
know about that?”

“You had me research what
Kophat meant to you.”

The Human snorted, though
there was an uneasiness in his eyes now. 

Which made sense.  If it
was revealed he was chronically claustrophobic, he could be discharged from the
Ground Force to repay his debt in manual labor.  As high-protein, chemically
compatible exotics, Humans often had the ill fortune of having a Dhasha buy
their contract. 

Warily, the Human said,
“How long did you screw around in my file before you gave up and called for
help?”

“I didn’t call for
help.”  Jer’ait gave his Prime a long, sober look.  “Kophat meant you’re
probably the most loyal citizen of Congress on this planet.”

Joe’s gaze flickered
across his face, startled.  Then he snorted again.  “I didn’t have a choice. 
They were shooting at me, I shot back.”

“That’s not what I’m
talking about, Joe.” 

The Human flinched and
gave him a sideways look.

“I’m talking about the
choice you made with Na’leen,” Jer’ait confirmed for him.

The Human’s brown eyes
widened a little and he tensed.

“Yes,” Jer’ait said.  “I
know why Na’leen let you breach his bunker.  He thought you would lead his army
to victory against Congress, as the Trith predicted.”

Joe looked away,
swallowed, then looked back.  “You really just figured it out?  On your own?”

“You’re a Congie.  That’s
what Kophat means to you.”

“Ghosts of the Mothers.” 
The Human now looked at him in nervous awe.  “Just how smart are you?”

Not a fraction as
smart as the creature we’re up against.
  Jer’ait watched him, wondering if
he could trust him.  “There’s something we need to talk about, Human.  Away
from your Jreet.”

“To hell with that!”
Daviin snapped, suddenly popping into existence in a gigantic crimson coil
taking up the corner of the room.

Joe turned to glare at
the Jreet.  “I told you to leave!”

“And I ignored it. 
Believe me, Joe, the last thing I’m about to do is leave you alone in a room with
this mother-killing scum.”

“Who killed his mother?”
the Baga asked, sitting up on the bed.  He buzzed his wings, then crawled up
the wall until he was staring down at them from the ceiling.

“We need to talk alone,”
Jer’ait insisted.

Joe went to the door and
locked it.  “There.  You can say it in front of them.”

Daviin shot Jer’ait a
triumphant gaze.  Jer’ait stifled his anger.  “It’s private.”

“I’ve got nothing to
hide,” the Human said.

“No, but
he
does,”
Daviin said, his golden alien eyes never leaving Jer’ait’s face.

Jer’ait almost went back
to Koliinaat right there.  Almost.  Instead, he closed his eyes.  “Joe, I’m
here to kill you.”

“I know,” Joe said. 
“Daviin had Flea follow when you wandered off a few times.  Heard you talk with
that other Huouyt.”

Jer’ait stared at the Human,
completely flabbergasted.  “You…  You knew and you didn’t kill me?”

“Figured you’d change
your mind.”

“Joe…” Jer’ait said,
“that’s…”

“Stupid?” the Jreet
offered.  “Yes, I told him that.  Repeatedly.”  The Voran’s eyes were piercing
as they stared back at Jer’ait.  Obviously, he still wanted to murder him.

“
Did
you change
your mind, Jer’ait?”  Joe leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms over
his chest as he watched him.  “That gesture you made…that’s a Va’gan oath, isn’t
it?”

“It is,” Daviin barked. 
“It’s the only reason he’s not dead yet.”

“Joe,” Jer’ait said, his
eyes flickering to the Jreet and back, “I think we’re being used.”

“You didn’t answer the
question,” Daviin said sharply.

“Yes,” Jer’ait snapped. 
“I changed my mind.  Are you happy?”

“No.”  The look in the
Jreet’s eye told him Daviin would never trust him, no matter how many times he
swore not to hurt his ward. 
He’s the smart one,
Jer’ait thought.

“How are we being used?”
Flea asked, dropping down onto Joe’s shoulder.

“The Dhasha Vahlin,”
Jer’ait said.  “I don’t think he exists.”

Joe shifted against the
wall as he considered.  Whether or not he was grateful for Jer’ait’s honesty
about his mission did not register on his impassive face.  “Why?” he asked
finally.

“The last crawl.  I met
the prince.  We talked.  He’d never seen the Vahlin.  None of them had.”

When his three companions
merely stared at him blankly, Jer’ait tried another approach.  “What kind of
Dhasha is capable of designing a new kind of
ekhta?
”

“Could’ve been a Takki,”
Joe said.  “They’re smart, when they’re not getting eaten.”

Daviin twisted to give
the Human a look of distaste, but Joe continued to hold Jer’ait’s gaze.

“Whatever took out Aez
was something Congress had never seen before,” Jer’ait informed them.  “It was
too hot to be one of ours.  How many turns did it take Congress to develop the
technology to build an
ekhta?
”

Joe grunted.  “I dunno. 
Like five hundred thousand.  Why?”

“How old is the Dhasha Vahlin,
Joe?”

The Human’s eyes registered
understanding.

“So what does that
leave?  The Huouyt are the smartest creatures with a Representative in
Congress, and it would take us another two and a half million turns to come up
with a new kind of ekhta, even if Congress allowed us full access to the
technology, which it wouldn’t.  Ekhtas are built in forty-seven different
stages, with each set of manufacturers completely independent of the other and
in total lockdown from the outside.  There is no way to piece the puzzle
together.”  Jer’ait hesitated.  This was where his companions either joined his
cause or shoved him aside as Yua’nev had.  “There is only one creature who
might be capable of building an ekhta in his spare time, without Congressional
support.”

“Who?” Joe asked.

“Forgotten.”

The Baga fluttered its
wings.  “You mean Jemria?”

Jer’ait glared at the
pest.  “Where did you hear that name?”

“From you.  When I was
spying on you.  Then I went and looked up the Geuji on the net.  I think you’re
right, you know.  That Yua’nev guy’s a furg.”

Jer’ait cocked his head
at the Baga.  “You think I’m right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why would he start
a war, only to slaughter the rebels?” Jer’ait demanded.

“That’s easy,” Flea
twittered.  “He wants to kill off the Dhasha.”

“Or,” the Human said,
leaning forward, “He’s on our side.  Daviin told me about his guardian angel. 
And how you killed him.  Brilliant work, you two.”

“He’s alive,” Jer’ait
said.

“He’s
what?
”
Daviin roared.

“If it is a Geuji we’re
dealing with, the last thing he’s gonna do is piss him off by killing his
agents,” the Baga said.  “I read his file.  Scary crack.  His entire body is
one gigantic moldy brain.  Smarter than lots and lots of supercomputers.”

Daviin frowned at the
Baga, then at Jer’ait.  “I thought the Geuji were a myth.  Extinct.”

“There’s one out there
Congress hasn’t managed to capture,” Jer’ait said.  “The rest are locked in the
Space Academy cellar.”