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Angle of Truth

Page 23

by Lindsay Buroker


  “With modern technology, it’s easy to prevent harmful waste from being left behind,” the corporate representative spoke up. “And scientists are known to blow their supposed findings about the toxicity of environmental waste, as you call it, far out of proportion. They do their studies on little rats and then extrapolate that to human beings, as if that’s the same thing. For instance, there’s hardly any proof at all that trace elements of ahridium do any lasting harm to human beings. Our bodies were designed to get rid of so-called toxic elements. You simply excrete them or sweat them out.”

  Jelena smiled. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect lead-in.

  “Excellent,” she said, “then you’ll be happy to demonstrate.”

  The woman frowned. “What?”

  The vials were capped, so Jelena set them in front of each person at the table without worrying about them being spilled.

  “Dr. Ogiwara prepared a solution for each of you of water and extremely trace amounts of ahridium molecules.”

  “What?” the woman repeated, her tone flat.

  Powell and the corporate man eyed the vials with suspicion. The other male Alliance representative waved a dismissive hand as if he wasn’t worried in the least.

  “This is your chance to show that you believe what you’re saying,” Jelena said. “If small amounts of ahridium are harmless to humans, then drink that water. Show me.”

  “Please,” Powell said. “Why would we trust that you’ve put only trace amounts in there? And what does trace even mean?”

  “No more than ten parts per million,” Dr. Ogiwara said, leaning around the hatch to peer inside, her long black ponytail swinging over her shoulder.

  “There could be poison in there.”

  “Why would we poison you?” Jelena asked. “We get paid fifteen thousand tindarks if we return you safely to War Minister Sorel. And I don’t know if you’ve gotten a good look around this ship, but we could definitely use that money.”

  Hakim snorted. The four people with vials in front of them didn’t crack a smile. The woman glanced at the snowy mountain mural Masika had painted.

  “There’s no reason for us to drink this,” Powell said.

  “You will drink it,” Thor said.

  Powell’s lips pulled back in an expression of horror, his eyes focused on some inner vision. Or was that pain? Jelena frowned at Thor, not sure what he was doing to the man. She did need him to play the ruthless brute in this scenario, but she didn’t want to torture anyone. Her entire plan was built around a bluff. She had no intention of poisoning anyone.

  “Unless you’re willing to comm Sorel and inform him that there will be no mining contract,” Jelena said, “and that there will be no deal with the Alliance, a deal that you, Mr. Powell, have no authority to grant.”

  The corporate man frowned over at Powell. “You said the prime minister himself agreed that the Alliance would establish itself on Opuntia and help lead Fourseas once the war was over and trouble had settled down.”

  “Please,” Jelena said. “This little minion doesn’t know the prime minister.” She glanced at Thor, not sure if that was correct, especially since Powell sputtered, but she pushed on before the man could articulate anything. “I probably have a better shot of getting a meeting with him. I used to babysit for Senator Hawk’s kids, and I hear Hawk and the prime minister play disc asteroids together on the weekends.” She’d heard no such thing, but it sounded plausible. After all, Hawk had been a great hero during the war and had served in office for the last ten years.

  Powell stared at her and scowled. Did he believe her? Maybe Thor was influencing him.

  “And do the Opuntians know about this plan you apparently had?” Jelena asked. “To bring the Alliance in to govern the planet? I got the impression that the original deals that were offered—and you offered them to both sides, right?—were for assistance in self-rule. It’s hard to imagine either the Opuntians or the Chollans volunteering to hand their independence over to the Alliance, however much more benevolent they are than the empire was.”

  Thor snorted.

  Hakim shook her head slowly, then leaned into the corridor, waving at someone. Dr. Ogiwara? No, two of the other prisoners came in. Thor didn’t look surprised. They must have been out there listening. Were they some of the higher-ups among the Opuntians? Had Hakim wanted them to hear all this? Powell flushed and avoided their eyes when they entered.

  “Don’t let us interrupt you,” a gray-haired man in a dusty, rumpled suit said, eyeing Powell with the speculation of someone newly enlightened. Then he nodded to Jelena. “Please continue.”

  Hakim crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m waiting for the part of the discussion where those four drink the water they were so eager to have our people drink.”

  Jelena clasped her hands behind her back and gazed thoughtfully at the representatives, as if she were contemplating that very thing. She tried to look regal and wise—and had worn her robe to help enhance the effect—rather than like a kid hoping her bluff worked.

  “It’s your choice,” she told Powell. “Drink up, or call off the war.”

  The other Alliance man snorted. “It’s not as if we have that power. These people are embroiled in religious differences that go back centuries.”

  “You’ll find that my people are very willing to put religious differences aside if you’ll simply leave us alone going forward,” Hakim said. “We long ago grew accustomed to being the minority when it comes to such matters. Despite what your propaganda machines have been spewing, we’ve never had any interest in trying to foist our ideologies on others. We just want what we came here for centuries ago, a place of our own, where we can eke out a living and believe what’s no longer popular to believe.”

  “You’ll find that our people,” the Opuntian man in the suit said, “have little interest in the Chollan continent if the ahridium isn’t going to be mined.”

  “It will be mined,” Powell said. “Nothing has changed. The Alliance and Allar Corporation want the ore and are willing to—”

  “Drink that water in order to prove that extracting it is safe?” Jelena smiled sweetly, then nodded at Thor.

  Don’t really make them drink it, she added silently.

  Why not? If those four disappear and the Opuntians find out nobody else knows about the deal they made, the war could fizzle of its own accord.

  I’d rather they be advocates than victims. And she shrank away from the idea of murdering people. Just in case a vengeful Dr. Ogiwara had made the concoction stronger than they’d asked.

  Four right hands reached for the water vials. Alarm flared in their owners’ eyes, and Jelena knew Thor was forcing the moves.

  The other Alliance man made a disgusted noise, grabbed his vial first, and popped the top off with his thumb.

  “What are the side effects they can expect, Doctor?” Jelena blurted, realizing he was going to drink of his own accord, just to prove that nothing would happen.

  “Oh, there are all manner of side effects,” Ogiwara said brightly. “It’s unlikely that they’ll die from so small an exposure, but they might soon experience paresthesia, ataxia, dysarthria, hematochezia, vomiting, and hypovolemic shock. I suppose paralysis and death could occur, especially if I inadvertently made the dosage stronger than intended. Or if there’s an allergic reaction. That can happen with even the slightest exposure, in which case anaphylaxis is a likely possibility. And I noticed your sickbay is on the primitive side. I don’t know if I’d be able to revive them should that happen. Alas.”

  Jelena didn’t point out that the equipment in her sickbay was far superior to what Ogiwara had been working with on the planet. She also didn’t point out that she had no idea what most of the things in that list were. Maybe they were scarier if one didn’t know.

  The man who’d uncapped the lid hesitated, looking down at it.

  Surprisingly, the corporate man was the one to lift his hands and say, “Forget it. This planet isn’t wor
th the hassle. I’m convinced that enough of these zealots—” he thrust a hand toward Hakim, “—would survive the war and Alliance occupation to bomb the hells out of our ocean drills and mining facilities.”

  I put that idea into his head, Thor informed Jelena, sounding proud of himself.

  “What do you mean it isn’t worth it?” Powell said. “You’re pulling out? We had a deal.”

  “One I had the authority to make and which you, it appears, did not. As the official representative here for my corporation, I am now rescinding our offer, yes.” He lifted his chin and met Jelena’s eyes. “I assume you will drop us off where I can get transportation off this planet.”

  “We’ll drop everyone off as promised in the Opuntian capital,” Jelena said. “But if you want a ride farther out, we’re heading to Umbra next to pick up some cargo.” Cargo she hoped would still be waiting for them when they arrived slightly later than her mother had planned.

  “It might be easier to get a flight home from there.” He nodded and pointed to the hatchway. “Are we done here?”

  Is he telling the truth? Jelena asked Thor as she extended her senses toward the man herself. She should have been doing that while they’d been talking. She didn’t sense any deception from him, not now, but couldn’t help but worry about what he would do once he was away from the Snapper and Thor’s influence.

  He is. My image of terrorist attacks on the very expensive mining facilities they would have to build to drill at the bottom of the ocean helped cement feelings he’s been having since he was kidnapped, that this would all be far too much risk for his company. He’s one of the higher-ups in this corporation, so I believe what he suggests will be accepted.

  Good.

  “Go ahead,” Jelena said, then met Powell’s eyes.

  He was still holding the vial—maybe Thor hadn’t let him set it down—and wore a particularly dyspeptic expression. Though Jelena doubted it would be pleasant, she brushed his mind with her senses, trying to ascertain what he was likely to do. He seemed defeated but disgusted too. More than a year’s worth of work, and it now looked like he wouldn’t have any opportunity to get rich. He’d seen this as a way to early retirement. A very lucrative early retirement.

  Even though Jelena now had a money problem herself, she couldn’t bring herself to sympathize with the man.

  “Are you done?” Jelena asked him.

  “The Alliance has no interest in policing a remote border planet when there aren’t any resources to be gained,” he said stiffly.

  Sadly, Jelena believed that to be true. He might have had a hard sell even if the mining deal had been in place. She sensed that Powell didn’t want to give up and was developing a sincere loathing for her, but that he couldn’t imagine how he would continue to sway the Opuntian leaders when he couldn’t continue to promise the Alliance support he’d offered. He glanced at the Opuntian man still in the hatchway. The man was gazing back at him with distaste. No, that deal should be over.

  But was it enough to end the war? A war the Opuntians were on the verge of winning? Or did Jelena and her team need to take vials of water down for a discussion with War Minister Sorel and General Chang?

  Powell is planning to pack up and skip town as soon as we land and let him go, Thor told her silently.

  Good. Do you think we need to do more to end the war? She was admittedly naive and inexperienced when it came to such things, but Opuntia had every advantage at the moment. Yes, the Chollan capital forcefield was back up, but that seemed like so little.

  Perhaps we should let it be believed that the entire Starseer community is now allied with the Chollans.

  Who’s going to believe that? All they’ve seen is us.

  Are we not enough? Thor raised his sword blade to his forehead in a salute.

  I don’t know. She looked toward the Opuntian man, who was watching Thor, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  He’s figured out who I am.

  Is he suitably impressed by your imperial eminence?

  He’s heard that I’ve been assassinating people. I’m going to let him believe that the Opuntian leaders might be next on the list if they don’t leave the Chollans alone.

  I had no idea you’d developed such a fondness for them. Jelena wondered if Thor’s idea would work. Would it, laid on top of everything else that had gone wrong for the Opuntians today, convince them to end the war?

  They did offer us a sanctuary. And Hakim has upgraded the offer to include all the cactuses we want.

  Thor inclined his head toward Hakim, and she nodded back. Had he been including her in some of his telepathic messages?

  Erick will be so pleased about the cactuses.

  “I believe,” the Opuntian man said slowly, “that in light of these revelations, it may be time for me to advise my leaders on a cessation of hostilities.”

  “Perhaps so,” Thor said blandly.

  The man grimaced and walked out. The remaining Alliance representatives also left, giving Thor another round of wary looks on the way past.

  “Nobody drank the water?” Ogiwara peeked in again, looking toward the vials left on the table. “Unfortunate.”

  “You wanted them to poison themselves?” Jelena hadn’t ever meant for any of them to drink.

  “I put together a concoction to induce impressive cramps and, ah, what we in the medical business professionally refer to as ‘disaster pants.’ There wasn’t any ahridium in it. My religion does not allow me to injure others.”

  “But inducing cramps and pants problems are permitted?”

  Ogiwara’s eyes crinkled. “I don’t believe the Eightfold Path mentions those things.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well, if any of those people give us trouble during the rest of the flight, we can still make them drink your concoction,” Jelena said.

  “Sounds delightful.” Ogiwara pressed her hands together and bowed like some Old Earth monk, then walked out.

  Epilogue

  “You’re sure you won’t take us up on our offer of sanctuary?” Hakim asked, standing to the side of the five Chollan religious-political leaders who made decisions on behalf of the city and the continent. Fortunately, they’d all been pleased by the cessation of hostilities and hadn’t countermanded anything Hakim had told Jelena and the others.

  “We have a cargo to pick up and deliver,” Jelena said. And a debt to repay, she added to herself, regretting that they were no closer to doing so.

  She stood with Erick, Thor, and Masika at the bottom of the Snapper’s loading ramp, all three suns visible in the sky, baking the desert land outside of Dry Wash. At this distance, Rebus appeared with little more intensity and brightness than a star, but she imagined it contributing its energy to the cactuses growing out of the barren soil. Alfie was running around, hunting for small creatures among them now. Jelena found it amusing that few, if any, of the cactuses had been damaged by the bombings. Austin, however, had taken out several during his landing. In case a scenario like this happened again, Jelena decided to train him as a backup pilot even as Erick trained him as an engineer.

  “And a ghost-cleansing specialist to find,” came a call from the cargo hold. Austin stuck his head out. “This ship is creepy when you’re in it all by yourself. So many restless spirits roaming around.”

  “It looks like it’s seen a lot,” Hakim said, nodding, as if she thought nothing odd at the notion of ghosts. Jelena realized she’d never asked her which of the Old Earth religions she favored.

  Erick shooed his brother back inside, then dropped his face in his hand.

  “Some of our long-range scanners survived the bombings.” Hakim waved toward the hills farther inland from the city. “I was able to find that gold ship.”

  Thor had been gazing out toward the ocean, but his eyes now locked onto her.

  “It was down for a couple of days out in the desert, and we thought it might be defunct,” Hakim said, “but the owner must have been mak
ing repairs. It took off this morning.” She pointed skyward. “It doesn’t look like it’s in orbit, though our scanning equipment isn’t that sophisticated, so it’s possible we’re missing it. Still, it looks like the pilot has given up on his mission for now.”

  Thor’s gaze shifted to Jelena. Whoever he is, I suspect he’ll be back.

  Can we wait a day or two until we have to start worrying again? I feel like we’re due a vacation.

  If I leave, he shouldn’t be a further problem for you.

  Jelena wiggled her eyebrows at him. But you’d be hopeless and helpless without us to protect you. To Hakim, she said, “Thank you for the information. I hope he didn’t do too much additional damage to your city.”

  “The bombers are to blame for the damage, not anything you people have done,” one of the leaders said. “I understand we owe you our thanks.” The man nodded to Hakim, who must have shared most of the story by now.

  “You don’t owe us anything,” Jelena made herself say, though she wished she could legitimately ask for a few tindarks, if only to recover the cost of the replacement parts Austin had installed. The Opuntians, after all the events had been relayed among the various parties, had refused to pay her for the return of the prisoners. She could have refused to turn them over, but what would she have done with thirty extra people on the Snapper? Thor had said that real mercenaries would threaten to kill them—or actually kill them—if the Opuntians didn’t produce the money, but Jelena had been more interested in ending the war than in stirring up further hostilities. To her relief, that was working. The war did indeed seem to be on hold. She hoped talk of treaties wouldn’t be far off.

  “That’s not true, but unfortunately there’s little we have to offer.”

  Hakim’s expression grew wry. “The cactus crop hasn’t been affected, mostly because they grow wild and aren’t easy for our enemies to bomb.”

  “Cactuses?” Erick asked. “I heard you have a variety that’s tasty. I wouldn’t mind trying some.”

 

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