Zero Recall (69 page)

Sam’s heart was pounding,
now.  “This isn’t about the experiment?”

“No,” the ‘tinny’ voice
said, from his lap.  “It’s about your
money.
  Where is it?”

“What kind of Peacemakers
are you?” Sam asked.

“The very best,” the flat
voice said.

“Trust me,” the man said,
“You really, really want to tell us.”

“You’re just thieves!”
Sam cried.

“What did you say?”  An
enormous, clawed hand clapped him upon the shoulder and squeezed, painfully.

“That was a mistake,” the
flat voice said.  “His kind have very prickly honor.”

“I was told this could be
a mutually beneficial business arrangement,” the tall voice said.  “I was told
we free you, you pay us.  If you don’t
want
to pay us…”

Something wrenched Sam
out of his seat and held him off the ground, the air from the traveling
haauk
whipping through his hair.  “We’ll still free you.”

Sam screamed.

“Careful,” the flat voice
said.  “We’re half a length up.  You drop him and we don’t get paid.”

“I won’t drop him. 
Unless he wants me to.”

Sam somehow got a hold on
himself and laughed.  “This is just another game.”

The man sounded worried,
now.  “Listen to me, Sam.  You don’t know the Jreet.  He means every word.  You
piss him off and he’ll drop you.”

All the tension left
Sam’s body.  “You’re lying.  This is all a setup.  We’re not really moving
anywhere.  You’ve got a fan on us and we’re still inside the prison.”

The Human sighed.  “Sam,
I was gonna try to spare you this, but since you’re being difficult…”  Sam felt
hands reach behind his head and undo the blindfold.

No sooner had Sam caught
a glimpse of the man’s face than he was suddenly wrenched around, dangled ten
feet off the edge of a moving
haauk
by a slab of scarlet muscle that
looked capable of ripping him in half with two fingers.

Sam screamed.

“Now we’re getting
somewhere!” the Jreet snapped, leaning close.  His golden eyes bored into Sam’s
skull.  “So tell me, Human.  Will you pay us for your rescue?”

“Yes,” Sam gasped, his
legs kicking futilely for purchase as the ground passed by thousands of feet
beneath him.

“Excellent!”  The Jreet
yanked him back inside the
haauk
and thrust him back into the seat
between the man and an odd-eyed Huouyt.  “You see?  No drugs required.”

“He has yet to tell us
where the money is,” the violet-eyed Huouyt said as he untied Sam’s hands.

“I’ll tell you,” Sam
muttered.  His eyes once more found the man’s face.  He looked even more like
Sam’s father than Sam had, with his brown eyes and a lean, muscular body that a
Greek god would have envied.  Bitterly, he growled, “Even though I know you’re
not gonna kill me.”

The man’s brown eyes
remained impassive.  “What makes you say that?”

“Cut the crap, Joe,” Sam
spat.  “I know who you are.  You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“No,” Joe agreed, “But
everyone else on this haauk might.  You have no idea the kind of dangerous
bastards I had to enlist to help spring you.  I told them there’d be good money
involved in getting you out…who knows what they’ll do if you don’t pay up?”

With his words, Joe
handed Sam a reader.  In it, four separate accounts stood open, awaiting
transactions.

“It would really help if
you could divide it equally amongst the four of us,” Joe said.  “What are you
worth, exactly?”

“Two billion,” Sam said.

“Jer’ait?”

“Eight, easy.  Probably
twelve.”

“That’s fortunate,” Joe
said.  “I promised Daviin three, and everyone should have an equal share.”

Sam felt like he’d
swallowed lead weights.  He was only worth twelve and a half billion.  “I only
have nine.”

“Jer’ait?”

“He’s lying.”

Damn
the Huouyt
and their ability to recognize a lie!  “I don’t have twelve billion!” Sam
cried, carefully stabilizing his brainwaves and thinking of fluffy pink bunny
rabbits.

“Lying.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at
the Huouyt.  Seeing his consternation, Joe grinned at him.  “If you don’t got
it—which Jer’ait seems to think you do—sounds to me like you better come up
with some creative criminality right now, because we’re not setting you down
until we’ve each got three billion credits.”

“You’re just a petty
thief!” Sam snapped.

Joe shrugged.  “Runs in
the family, I guess.”

“And I’d like to point
out it’s not exactly petty,” the small, tinny voice said.  It took Sam a moment
to realize it was coming from the roof above him.

A spider-like creature
with huge red, buglike eyes and black-ribbed wings stared down at him, its
scissor-like beak aimed at his face.  Sam quickly looked away.

“I can give you each
two,” Sam said.

“I was promised three!”
the Jreet roared.

Sam flinched.  “Two each
and three for the Jreet.”

The Huouyt’s eyes fixed
on him coldly.  “You would favor the Jreet?”

Sam realized where he’d
heard a flat voice like that before.  A Va’gan assassin, hired to kill him in
his fortress apartment twenty years ago.  “I can give you both three.”

“Oh?” the little insect
creature snapped.  “Then maybe I should cut off a trophy to take with me.  How
about a hand, Joe?  I never got a prince talon.  I should have a hand.”

“Nah,” Joe said.  “He’d
just grow it back.  Gotta find something more permanent.”

The insect dropped from
the ceiling, landing solidly on Sam’s shoulder.  “The head, then?”

“Fine!” Sam snapped. 
“Three to each of you.”

“And what about Joe?” the
Jreet demanded.  “You would rob your brother of his due?”

“I don’t have any more,”
Sam gritted.

“Lying.”

A huge, clawed hand
enveloped his shoulder and squeezed.  “Find it.”

In the end, Sam
transferred all twelve billion.

“So why didn’t you come
get me sooner?” Sam asked, sulking, as the Baga and the Huouyt left them on the
haauk
to test their accounts.

“I thought you were
dead,” Joe said, watching the door where the two had disappeared.  “That, and I
didn’t have the groundteam.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. 
“This is your
groundteam?
  You asshole!  That’s why they were calling
you ‘Commander,’ isn’t it?  You could’ve told them to be happy with two and
they woulda dropped it!”

Joe grinned.  “Yeah, but
what’s a few billion to a criminal mastermind?  You’ll get it all back in a
couple turns while the rest of us are stuck making Congie wage the rest of our
lives.  This is gonna be our only payday worth talking about until we die.”

“May that be soon and
violent,” Sam growled.

Joe shrugged.  “Prolly
will be.  That’s why we’re gonna go use it up on having a good time before we
get back off leave.”

Sam felt like he was
choking.  “You’re gonna use up three billion credits to have a good
time?
”

“Yep.  Flea plans on
buying himself a spaceship so he can crash it.  He’s a destructive little shit,
I’ll tell you what.”

Sam thought he was going
to throw up.  “You’re insane.”

“Nope,” Joe said.  “Just
realistic.  We know the four of us prolly won’t live long.  Might as well get
our jollies in now, before Congress finally finds a way to kill us.”

“Besides,” the Jreet
roared, “they split us up, so we’ve gotta enjoy the good company while we can.”

Joe cocked his head up to
eye the Jreet.  “You know, Daviin, you should probably set aside a few mil,
just to keep you from starving later on.  Think of your stomach.”

“I am,” Daviin said. 
“And I’m thinking of all the
melaa
my share will buy me.  I don’t intend
to be able to move for weeks.  I might manage to get a few more segments out of
this.”

“What about your Sentinel
duties?”

Daviin snorted.  “Jer’ait
took care of all the ones who wanted to kill you.  I can afford some time off.”

Sam frowned, glancing
between the Jreet and Joe.  “He’s your Sentinel?”

Joe didn’t get a chance
to answer because Flea burst out of the building and came at them at
approximately the speed of sound.

“It’s in!” the Baga
cried.  “It’s all there!  We routed it through some Jahul gambling dens, shows
up to Congress as gaming winnings.”  The insectoid little monster landed on top
of the Jreet’s head and tapped a bright red brow-scale with a sharp claw.  “You
hear that, Daviin?  Your bank account says you actually
won
at cards,
for once.”

“Perhaps you would like
to make another wager, Baga,” the Jreet replied.  “
Bigger
, this time.”

The massive insect puffed
up.  “Bring it o—”

“No wagers,” Joe said. 
“You each have three billion.”  He gave the Jreet a pointed look.  “Period.”

Behind the Baga, Jer’ait
strode from the hub with calm purpose, showing neither excitement nor
pleasure.  “We transferred it all to the new accounts,” Jer’ait said as he got
into the
haauk.
  Then, looking at Sam, he said, “On Faelor.”

Sam winced.  He had
memorized the account numbers he’d transferred the billions into and had been
planning on reclaiming his money as soon as they let him go, but Faelor was run
by Bajna.  They were the bankers of Congress, and not a cent would leave the
planet without six different forms of encrypted identification.

Sam was never seeing his
money again.

“Great!” Joe said.  “Then
let’s go free my wayward brother.”

Sulking, Sam said, “Take
me to the Manhattan Skyplex.  I’ve got friends there.”  He leaned back and
watched the landscape speed by, brooding.

Several hours later, Joe
clapped him on the shoulder.  “Well, we’re here, little brother.  Out you go.”

Sam opened his eyes, not
realizing he’d fallen asleep.  He blinked at the dry desert scrub and the two
lonely little huts along a dusty orange road.  The heat was bearing down on
them like they were stuck inside a furnace, with the front of Sam’s prison
overalls already beginning to stain with sweat. 

“This isn’t the Skyplex.”

“Nope,” Joe said. 
“Figure I’m your big brother and should give you a talkin’ to about all the
crime you’ve been doing, but I don’t have the time and I don’t really think
you’d listen, anyway, so I’m just gonna drop you off on the other side of the
planet, away from all your thieving buddies, and hope you can straighten
yourself out.”

Sam’s eyes flew wide as
he saw the man in African dress step out of the closest hut to stare at them. 
“You can’t.”

“Might wanna lose the
pajamas, though,” Joe continued.  “They’re probably tagged.”

“They are,” Jer’ait said.

“You can’t,” Sam
repeated, more stunned than worried.

“Oh, but we can,” Joe
said.  “Figure you need to learn about hard work, since Dad never had the
chance to teach you himself.  There isn’t a phone for a hundred miles, a bank
outlet for a thousand.  You
could
try walking to them, but we paid that
nice young man over there ten thousand dollars to give you a job, and I think
he intends to do it.”  Joe grinned at him.  “You ever herded cattle before,
Sam?  Daviin thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Joe, you can’t do this! 
Dad would—”

“Dad would what?”  Joe’s
eyes darkened and Sam suddenly wished they weren’t sitting so close.  “Believe
me, I can do this, Sam.  I think of the kind of ash you’ve dragged Dad’s name
into and you’re lucky I don’t kill you.  Now get out.  And take off the overalls. 
We’ll get rid of them for you.”

Sam glanced at the other
three, hoping to find an ally against his brother’s insanity.

All he found were cold,
hard, alien stares.

Reluctantly, Sam got out
of the
haauk.
  When the Huouyt held out a flat tentacle, he reluctantly
removed his overalls and handed them over.

Then, as Sam watched, the
haauk
rose into the air and flew off.  Sam watched it until the craft
was over the mountains.

A dark hand clapped him
on the shoulder and Sam turned.

The man beamed a bright
African smile at him.  Then he said something in a language that was neither
Congie, nor English, and pointed towards the six scrawny cows.

Sam laughed and shook his
head.  “No, I don’t think so.”

Immediately, the
African’s smile faded.  He gave Sam a shove.

Sam stopped laughing.

#

Syuri received
Forgotten’s letter after almost two rotations without communications. 
Immediately, Syuri dropped everything and took the message to his room.

Syuri.  I’m sorry we
couldn’t continue our relationship together.  I’m sure you deduced as much, but
Aliphei has left the Geuji in abject misery for hundreds of thousands of turns. 
I’ll be giving myself up in the hopes I can earn them some basic privileges and
bring to light their suffering, once and for all.  If all goes according to
plan, I should be able to at least secure one-way net links and news feeds for
my kind.  Perhaps, if Fate is kind, I will manage to procure them communication
between themselves, which would be the greatest entertainment a Geuji shall
ever know.  Even when the Geuji were free, our greatest diversion was
discussion with our peers.  If I can obtain them that, then my life has been
well-lived.

Unfortunately, Aliphei
has a history of quietly destroying races such as mine, and has had since the
formation of Congress to learn from his mistakes, so I will be playing with
fire.  Even if I do succeed, you will likely never hear from me again, for I go
to join my race in the vaults. 

I tell you this to let
you know I’ve set you up to inherit my full estate.  As soon as I’m gone, you
will be rich.  It’s the least I can do, to repay your kindness.