“I don’t believe he is,” said Dzaou. “I think Banner’s lying to protect him because they were lovers!”
“And I think you’re seeing monsters in shadows,” said Jayza, reaching out to pick up his drinking bowl.
“I said shut up!” snarled Dzaou, knocking over the drink as he rounded on Jayza.
In the shocked silence that followed, Banner pushed his chair back and went over to the small sink to fetch a cloth. Returning to the table, he began to mop up the spill as Jayza and Khadui began to hurriedly lift plates and bowls for him.
“I stand by what I said,” growled Dzaou belligerently, lifting his crockery. “Prove that you’re not lying! Tell us what he does every day after lessons for two hours!”
“Are you by any chance Challenging me, Dzaou?” Banner asked, his voice deceptively mild as he threw the soggy cloth back toward the sink and sat down. “Because I suggest you think again. Challenges are illegal in the Brotherhood in this time. Kusac and I merely shared a cabin on the Couana.”
Dzaou leaned back in his chair and laughed. “I don’t need to Challenge you, Banner! You can’t answer me because you don’t know, do you?”
He quickly weighed his options. A scuffle, especially in their cramped surroundings, was to no one’s benefit. Add in the possibility that the ancient vid comms might still be active and Prime Security could be watching them . . .
“On the contrary. The Captain goes down to the Command level to work with General Kezule and Shaidan. It’s a way of exposing the cub to our influence without it being too great a shock to him.”
“Makes sense,” said Khadui as Dzaou began to curse quietly.
“Dzaou, for your insubordination, you’ll copy out all the Litanies and the Creed, in full, in your Prime reader for tomorrow,” he said. “Dismissed.”
“What?” Dzaou looked at him in shock.
“You heard me, Brother Dzaou,” he said, his tone sharp and uncompromising as he got to his feet. “Get going. Khadui, escort him back to his quarters.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” said Khadui, rising.
“What do you want me to do?” asked Jayza awkwardly when they’d left.
“Would you mind going down to the Venture and bringing some of the coffee up here? I could really do with a cup of it right now.”
“How about I get five mugs as well?” grinned the young male.
“Fantastic idea! I hate those Prime bowls. They’ve got no handles and you end up burning your hands if you want a drink that’s halfway warm,” he said, starting to stack the plates. “I’ll take these back to the mess while you’re gone.”
Jayza hesitated at the door. “Banner, I don’t go along with Dzaou’s crazy notions. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know, Jayza. We have to hang on here together for now, and not let Dzaou, or anyone, divide us.”
As Kusac opened the door to his quarters, a familiar aroma, and scent, filled his nostrils. “Coffee, Banner?” he asked as he entered. “And our mugs.”
“I sent Jayza down to the Venture to get some this afternoon,” said Banner from his perch on one of the high chairs at the meal bar as he filled a mug for Kusac. “I also saw M’kou about programming it into their dispensers. It’ll be available tomorrow,” he said. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“The locks are easy to open,” he said, unfastening his belt and taking off his robe. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he refastened the belt over his tunic and joined his Second at the bar.
“Nothing much,” Banner said, pushing a mug over to him. “Just wanted to talk over a few things with you.”
He took a drink, savoring the taste. “Ten minutes,” he said. “I’m really tired tonight. So what’s up?”
“Dzaou’s talking up trouble again.”
“He was wrong for this job from the start.”
“He’s certainly lost none of his xenophobia,” Banner agreed. “But he’s got Khadui round to his way of thinking. It was he who brought up the topic of Shaidan, not Dzaou.”
Kusac grunted. “Tell me what happened.”
“We went back to my quarters to have third meal because Khadui wanted to talk. He wants to know what you’re doing to get Shaidan back. I told him that you’d already briefed us and I had briefed them as well. That’s when Dzaou started making his allegations.”
“Same ones as usual?” he asked, taking another drink from the mug.
“Same, only this time he claimed that you were keeping us all, me especially, in the dark.” Banner stopped to take a drink.
He reached for a spoon and began concentrating on stirring his coffee. He didn’t like the way this conversation was going. “And?” he asked when Banner didn’t continue.
“I said you were keeping me up to date, and he accused me of lying. Which, of course, I was.”
The words hung there, pregnant with meaning.
When he didn’t answer, Banner continued. “I asked him if he was trying to Challenge me. He said no, but demanded proof, which I don’t have because you aren’t keeping me briefed, Kusac.” There was no rancor in his tone, just a quiet acceptance of reality.
“So what did you say?” he asked quietly.
“I made it up, spun him a tale about how your meetings after classes are with Kezule and Shaidan so that the cub gets used to Sholan company slowly. Khadui was convinced, but not Dzaou, so I sent him to his quarters to copy out the Creed and the Litanies in full for tomorrow.”
He looked up at Banner, a slight smile playing round the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t, did you?”
Banner nodded. “I had to. I don’t like being left out on a limb, Kusac. Either you trust me or you don’t, but at least have the courage to tell me which to my face.”
“It’s not a matter of trust,” he said. “The teaching that we’re doing is transparent—you all have copies of the training program. The rest is AlRel work, most of which is a matter of instinct and decisions made on the run when a situation crops up. Work for which none of you are trained.”
“I accept that, but a debriefing on what you’ve been doing every few days would allow me to deal with situations like today’s from a position of knowledge. I don’t like lies, Kusac, and the rest of the crew want to feel we’re doing something concrete about Shaidan. The longer we’re here, the more he’s under the influence of Kezule and the Primes. They want to know he’s also being exposed to us.”
He sighed. It had been foolish of him to think he could keep his visits to the Command level secret. “He is. What you said wasn’t far from the truth. I spend the time with Shaidan, teaching him what it is to be Sholan.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me that?”
“Because I didn’t want grief from the rest of you on who was more suited to work with him. It’s nonnegotiable. It must be me.”
“No one would have argued with you, Kusac. You’ve got the training and you’re the only one of us who’s a father.”
“Dzaou would have argued.”
“No one would have listened to him,” said Banner dismissively. “Look, I’ve been thinking this over. Especially because of Dzaou, we need something to pull us together, something external to ourselves to focus on. Would Kezule let us set up a shrine to Vartra here?”
“A shrine?” he asked in surprise.
“Yes. Normally on a mission like this we have the familiarity of our religious observances to fall back on, but we don’t here. I think it would help. And I know just the person to organize the shrine. Jayza. After I’d sent Khadui to take Dzaou back to his quarters, the lad told me he didn’t believe anything Dzaou said. You’ve at least one loyal crew member there, Kusac.”
“Two, actually,” he said quietly, well aware of just how much trust Banner had put in him when he’d lied to the rest of the crew. “Jayza’s already working on the Prime cultural databases in the evenings for me. Wouldn’t that be giving him too much to do?”
“I’m pretty sure Jayza would see it as a privilege to be
asked to organize it. There’s not a lot for us to do here in the evenings except train and keep each other company—which allows Dzaou the opportunity to gripe—or go to the rec room.”
“Just before I came back this evening, I was talking to Kezule about the need for his people to start up a religion to replace their Emperor worship. I’ll call M’kou about that tonight before I have a shower. I know there’re two temples on this level, one at each side of the Outpost. Most religions use fire in one way or another, so likely they’ll have the necessary braziers and fuel.” It might even bring him some peace to get involved once more in the familiar rituals and prayers.
Banner drained his mug and got down from his chair. “And I’ll go tell Jayza and Khadui what we’re planning, then drop into this rec room. You know what surprises me most about Dzaou’s rant today, Kusac? Khadui believing it. I’d have thought someone as mature as him wouldn’t have been taken in by such a hot-head. I’d have thought it would appeal to Jayza.”
“Khadui and Dzaou go back a long way,” said Kusac, finishing his drink and putting his mug back on the bar.
“I don’t see how they can, not when Dzaou’s from the past.” He stopped and stared at Kusac, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “Ah. I see. I should have worked that one out for myself.”
Kusac said nothing, just tilted his ears back slightly.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Kusac,” Banner said.
“A shrine, Captain?” said M’kou, glancing to one side of his comm screen. “A moment, please. The General’s in his office. I’ll ask him.”
He came back a few minutes later. “General Kezule says that there’s no problem. You can use the temple near your quarters. And, yes, the fittings for the braziers are still there. We also have some stocks of incense and candles which we’re prepared to share with you. Who’ll be in charge of setting up your shrine? You?”
“No. Brother Jayza,” he said.
“I’ll see that one of our people meets him outside the gym after lessons tomorrow. They can take him to the temple and show him where everything is stored and how it works. If you send me a list of anything else you might need tonight, I’ll see it’s there for him tomorrow.”
“Thank you, M’kou.”
Zhal-Rojae 30th day (November)
Banner’s plan to allay the Primes’ suspicions of him and the rest of the crew was bearing moderate fruit. With his and Jayza’s regular appearances in the rec room, Kezule’s officers had finally relaxed in their company, almost to the same level as the civilians. Dzaou and Khadui they still regarded with some suspicion, but given the former’s attitude, that was not surprising.
Now he could risk scouting round the one area of their level, apart from the elevators, that was guarded during the outpost day—the engineering substation. During their first few weeks, work on rerouting engineering and power had still been ongoing, and occasional blackouts, accompanied by klaxon warnings to report immediately to the nearest public area where emergency life support was located, had not been uncommon. The situation had settled down lately, though, and his empathic Gift told him both crew and civilians were definitely more at ease.
The Outpost was a huge rectangular box set inside the hollowed out asteroid. As far as Banner could make out, there were nine levels in all. He’d identified only four of them for certain so far, as he’d found no subtle way yet to ask the questions he needed answered. Those four were the main landing bay where the Venture and Kezule’s ship, the N’zishok, were berthed, the Command Level immediately above that, the Officers level where they were, and above them, the hydroponics level. When they’d arrived, he’d seen the muzzle of some giant gun sticking out beneath the landing platform so he presumed there was an access deck for that, but how many more there were, he’d no idea.
He’d made it his business during their first few days on board to blunder round their level, constantly getting lost until he’d painstakingly managed to construct a reasonable map of it. The next day, M’kou had come up to him and handed him several copies of the Outpost’s official map. “To stop you getting lost so often, Lieutenant Banner,” he’d said with gentle irony.
It had been as accurate as his own, but he knew that like the other unused rooms—fully one third of the level—the engineering substation had not been shown.
“There’s one for each of you,” M’kou had said. “You’re free to move about the level any time of the day or night, but the elevators will be guarded and your access to other levels restricted unless you have the appropriate clearance to go there. Each corridor junction has an air lock which will normally be open unless there is an emergency, in which case a klaxon will sound and a message will be broadcast telling you what to do. There are five lateral corridors, numerically named starting with the main one joining the two main elevators which is called Corridor One. Each of these corridors has a public room in it.” He pointed to the Valtegan temple on the map. “That’s the one nearest to you. There’s also the gyms, temples, and the mess. Those rooms have emergency life-support systems in the event of a breakdown of power or a hull breech. Each corridor will be immediately isolated and you will have exactly one minute to make your way to the public room nearest you or be trapped where you are.”
M’kou had looked up at him then. “Air locks to the unused rooms are locked, Lieutenant, because we are not providing life support to them. The side corridors, running from port to starboard,” he had continued, pointing to the map again, “are named alphabetically starting with Corridor A, the one immediately on your right when you come out of the main elevator by the Admin office. Please also stay away from Corridors 4 B, 4 C, and 5. The M’zullians are berthed there, on the starboard side, well away from the rest of us. The General cannot vouch for your safety if you go straying into their area.”
He’d thanked the young Prime Officer and taken the maps to Kusac, who’d handed them out to the others, getting him to repeat M’kou’s pep talk, then adding one of his own which amounted to keeping their noses out of anything that didn’t concern the job for which they’d come here.
What he was about to do went directly against Kusac’s orders, but he wanted some leverage he could apply against Kezule if necessary. Kusac might be prepared to play Kezule’s game, but as far as Banner was concerned, anyone who used coercion to get what they wanted could just as easily break their word if it suited them.
Knowing the Primes would conduct at least one major security check on them and their possessions, he’d removed all the extra little devices and aids they kept concealed within their uniforms. For the first few weeks, after any visit to the Venture, they’d been searched physically and electronically, but as their presence on the Outpost became more accepted, Security had relaxed a little. On a particularly rushed day, he’d been able to smuggle them off their craft.
As far as he could make out, the engineering room was manned and operational during the day, but at night, they locked it down, probably continuing to monitor it remotely from the main command center.
The room was located in Corridor 2D, opposite the Prime Temple and next to the main assembly hall, both of which rooms should be empty at this hour of the night. The partitions between the rooms were fairly thin and he’d heard both Jayza and Dzaou settling down for the night some time ago, and Kusac rarely left his rooms in the evenings. Putting his map away in his desk drawer, he reached for the bottle of spirits beside him and took a quick mouthful. He grimaced at the taste. If he was stopped, he could pretend he was drunk and had got lost. Getting to his feet, he turned off the light.
Opening the door manually, he checked the small corridor outside their rooms, glancing at Kusac’s door opposite. As he expected, it was deserted and all corridor lighting had been reduced to station night. Turning right, he headed down Corridor 3 toward the junction with B, the main one running from port to starboard. At this time, the air lock to the elevator up to hydroponics would be locked rather than open and guarded. Taking a left into B, he
skirted the outside of the gym, bearing left at the iris junction into Corridor 2. He hesitated, checking the air but the scents there were several hours old. Just beyond the gym was the entrance to the head and the showers where he planned to conceal himself.
Turning his attention to the door opposite, he watched and waited, straining his ears for any noise. Apart from the almost subliminal continuous sound of the air recycling system, it was silent. Lifting the edge of his tunic, he teased a fine piece of rigid metal from the hem then darted quickly across to the other doorway.
There were two locking mechanisms, one an electronic keypad, the other activated by a conventional metal key. The difficult part would be getting the electronic lock open without tripping any alarms there might be if he got the code wrong. Since they’d arrived at Kij’ik, he’d made a point of being near any of the Primes when they opened locked doors. So far he’d identified five codes, each used in different areas. Very few rooms on this level were locked to them beyond individual personal quarters. The temple and gyms were always open, as was the main rec area and the mess. Only the two briefing rooms with their tactical data screens and terminals, the food stores, and admin were locked when not in use—and this room.
Ears pricked for the slightest sound, he took a deep breath and ran the most likely sequence of Valtegan symbols over in his mind before keying them in. The red eye continued to glare balefully at him and he steeled himself for the sound of a klaxon. Nothing happened, all remained quiet. There was the possibility it was a silent alarm, though, one that only went off in Security. Those kind usually had a short delay on them to allow the user to correct his mistake. He’d been so sure it was the right code—it was the one the Primes used to open the briefing rooms. Heart beating, he ran through the sequence mentally again, realizing he’d left out the final symbol. Hurriedly pressing it, he was relieved to see the light change to green. A moment’s work with his piece of wire and the door clicked open.
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