Undercity - eARC

by Catherine Asaro

  The colonel went to a glass-enclosed office with her aide and the bland bodyguard. She left a box of data spheres on the desk and checked the console there. Major Ebersole stood by the door and kept watch on the huge room, which was empty except for the three of them. He grinned suddenly and swatted directly at us, as if to strike our faces. Of course he didn’t. However, our view did swerve, showing the other offices as if the camera had swung around. Then it came back to Ebersole and the colonel. Hah! Ebersole had done the supposedly impossible, which was see a bee-bot spying on him, and by swatting it, he made it check the rest of the room. Smart fellow. So far all four of them were quite alive, and with Ebersole there, they seemed likely to stay that way. So when had Lavinda’s aide died?

  At the moment, the aide was standing at Lavinda’s side in the office, checking his mesh glove whenever she asked him a question. The bodyguard stood behind him, looking bored. After about fifteen minutes, the three of them rejoined Ebersole and they all returned to the airlift. The entire visit seemed perfunctory, a company owner putting in an appearance. They rode back to the roof and walked to the flycar.

  Krestone had fallen asleep, slouched over the controls. It was the first oddity; she was scrupulous about with her duties, and I could never imagine her sleeping at work. Judged from Lavinda’s frown, she had the same thought. When her group reached the flycar, the bodyguard opened the door and pulled Krestone back.

  The captain’s body flopped lifelessly to the side.

  Hell and damnation. I had assumed Lavinda’s aide was the one who died because he wasn’t here, but they must have already debriefed him.

  “My people arrived three minutes after Colonel Lavinda commed us,” Chief Takkar said. “At that time, Captain Krestone had been dead for eleven minutes.”

  I wanted to hit someone. I liked Krestone. I couldn’t believe she was gone. I also had no clue where the blazes Takkar had come up with me as a murder suspect. I’d been having dinner with Jak when Krestone died. Unfortunately I couldn’t prove it; I’d been shrouded, hiding from Majda. Even if I had thought Jak give me an alibi, I would never ask. No way could I risk drawing Majda attention to the Black Mark.

  “What was the cause of death?” I asked.

  “She was shot with a tangler.” Takkar’s voice hardened. “Your area of expertise, Major.”

  Well, shit. That wasn’t evidence. I spoke coldly. “I trained with contraband weapons in the army, if that’s what you mean.”

  All three sisters watched me with their dark eyes. Assessing.

  General Majda spoke. “You can use a neural tangler?”

  “Yes.” I met her gaze. “However, I haven’t fired one in years.”

  “Where were you this evening?” Takkar asked, her voice even more brusque than normal. “For some odd reason, we have no record of your whereabouts.”

  “I was having dinner with an old friend.”

  Takkar’s snort left little doubt what she thought about my alibi. “His name?”

  I crossed my arms. “Captain, are you accusing me of something?”

  General Majda answered. “No one has accused anyone.” She glanced at Takkar. “Do you have evidence as to who fired the tangler?”

  “We will,” Takkar said, which I translated to mean, We haven’t a clue. Tangler bursts were notoriously difficult to trace. They left no residue; they just disrupted neural activity in the brain. No matter. Whoever had done this to the captain would pay. I would see to that.

  Vaj Majda was studying me. Her controlled expression and posture gave away nothing. I tried to remain cool, but being scrutinized by the General of the Pharaoh’s Army was an unsettling proposition. She spoke coldly. “You may return to your apartment. However, do not leave the city. And don’t use any more shrouds.”

  That was no good. “I can’t do my job unless I can assure my sources of secrecy.”

  “What sources?” Takkar demanded.

  I just looked at her. She knew perfectly well I wouldn’t reveal mine any more than she would reveal hers.

  Vaj spoke in her dusky voice. “Very well, Major. Use your judgment.” She left unspoken the obvious warning; if they had no record of my whereabouts, I had no alibi if anything else happened.

  Corejida came over to me, her posture so tense she seemed ready to snap. “Have you news about Dayj?”

  Normally I wouldn’t talk about a case with so many ends dangling. I didn’t want to give her false hope. Right now, though, it seemed a good idea to give them something before they decided to toss me in jail.

  “It looks like he sold some jewels,” I said. “I think he bought a new identity and passage off Raylicon.”

  “No!” Corejida stared at me. “That can’t be. Dayj has no idea how to do that.”

  Takkar snorted. “It’s an absurd suggestion that he could manage that on his own.”

  “It’s no less absurd,” I said, “than suggesting I shot Captain Krestone.”

  “I didn’t hear any such suggestion,” Lavinda said coldly. “Just an inquiry establishing that you had the requisite experience.”

  “Stop it!” Corejida told her younger sister.

  Lavinda’s reaction didn’t bother me. She had just witnessed the death of a vital member of her staff, probably someone she liked, given Krestone’s personable nature. Vaj Majda unsettled me far more. She stood back, quieter than the others. It didn’t fool me. Of the three sisters, she was by far the most dangerous.

  “Did Dayj actually go offworld?” Corejida asked me. “Where to?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said as gently as I could manage. “I don’t know yet. I wish I had more news to give you.” I meant it. I could see their heartbreak coming from a kilometer away. At best, Dayj had left Raylicon of his own free will and would be difficult if not impossible to trace. Or he could be a Trader pleasure slave, forever beyond our help. If he was still here, he was probably a prisoner.

  Or dead.

  * * *

  With the night more than half over, Cries had settled into its second sleep cycle. I went to an empty park and sat in a gazebo built from lacework designed from some shimmery gold stuff. Then I activated my gauntlets. They were plugged into sockets in my wrists, which linked to biothreads in my body. Max sent his signals to the threads, they carried the data to my spinal node, and it fired bioelectrodes in my neurons according to signals it received. I perceived the end result as thoughts from Max. I could reverse the process; if I thought with sufficient force, the electrodes fired and the node picked up my response. Tech-created telepathy. It offered far more security than any shroud.

  Wake up, Max, I thought.

  I don’t sleep, Max answered.

  Did you get a full record of the session at the police station?

  Unfortunately, yes. Max did such a good job of simulating distaste, I wondered if he actually felt the emotion. Quite a scene between you and Chief Takkar.

  Friendly, isn’t she?

  She’d like to knock you into the wall.

  Yah, probably, I thought. You know the beetle I sent to follow Colonel Majda? It should also have a record of the trip that ended with Krestone dead.

  Yes. Would you like a neural dump?

  Anything you’ve got on the murder.

  Checking. Max paused, then thought, The beetle followed Colonel Majda as far as the entrance to the office tower. It calculated that if it entered a space as confined as the lift, Major Ebersole might notice its presence. So it flew down the side of the tower and spied through the window-walls. It came back up when they returned to the flycar.

  Damn. The beetle had made the logical choice, following Lavinda Majda rather than staying with the car, but that didn’t help my investigation. So it didn’t see the murder.

  No. But it did record the scene as the colonel and her party returned to the flycar.

  Play it for me.

  The scene formed like a translucent wash over my view of the park. I closed my eyes and the images intensified. This time I was watc
hing the flycar from a different angle, one in front of the windshield. Again the bodyguard pulled Krestone back. Unlike Takkar’s playback, however, this one showed Krestone from the front, enough to reveal what the bee-bot had missed; as the bodyguard moved Krestone, she took a pin off the dead captain’s uniform.

  My pulse leapt. Replay that, Max.

  The scene reran. Yes, there! The bodyguard pulled some sort of needle off Krestone’s shoulder. In the record made by the Majda’s bee-bot, Krestone’s body had hidden that action.

  Who is that guard? I asked.

  Her name is Oxil. She’s on staff at both the palace and the Majda Tower in Cries.

  She expected Krestone to be dead. I needed more information about this bland bodyguard. Go back and play whatever you have from the last time Krestone was alive.

  The scene reset to an earlier time and showed the flycar landing on the roof. Lavinda disembarked with her aide and Duane Ebersole. Krestone remained in the driver’s seat, visible through the windshield. The captain raised her hand to the others, either in a salute or waving farewell. Lavinda nodded to her and then walked with Ebersole and her aide toward the lift shaft.

  When the bodyguard met them at the lift, Lavinda said, “Oxil, inform security we’re on our way down.”

  “Right away, ma’am.” Oxil thumbed her gauntlet and spoke into the comm.

  Interesting. Takkar’s recording had focused on Lavinda. My beetle watched everyone, which gave me a better view of the bodyguard. Max, replay that bit where Oxil talks to security.

  The recording backed up and showed Oxil telling security that Colonel Majda was coming down. Oxil started to sign off, then stopped as someone apparently asked her a question.

  “Krestone is staying in the flycar,” Oxil said. “She has everything worked out up here.”

  Replay that, Max, and magnify it as much as you can.

  Max zoomed in on Oxil’s hand. The playback blurred, losing resolution, but it was clear enough. When Oxil started to sign off, she discreetly tapped the comm mesh.

  Freeze that! I thought. She switched channels! She wasn’t talking to security anymore.

  Apparently not, Max said.

  I studied the image. She said Krestone had “everything worked out up here.” It was a warning that Krestone figured out something. I gritted my teeth. Oxil told someone to kill her.

  You have no evidence to support that.

  Yet. I couldn’t prove it, but I had no doubt Oxil had warned set up Krestone’s murder. Can you identify that pin Oxil took off Krestone’s body?

  I’d say it’s a data storage device.

  It looks familiar. I couldn’t recall why, though.

  Max asked, Shall I forward this recording to Chief Takkar?

  Hell, no. Oxil works for her.

  You can’t withhold evidence.

  I’ll send it to General Majda.

  Shall I do that now?

  No.

  Why wait?

  I have my reasons. Before Max could push anymore, I thought, I wish I could remember where I’ve seen a pin like that before.

  I have a suggestion.

  Yes?

  Your vital signs indicate extreme fatigue. Go home and sleep.

  I smiled wanly. A good idea.

  I headed to the penthouse.

  * * *

  “Major, wake up.”

  I grunted and turned over in my airbed.

  “Major Bhaajan, you must wake up.”

  “Go away,” I muttered.

  “You have a visitor,” my tormentor said.

  I flopped onto my back. The voice belonged to the EI that ran the penthouse. Too bad I hadn’t named it yet, because at the moment I would have liked to take that name in vain.

  “I’m asleep,” I said. “I don’t want visitors.” Only the Majdas knew I lived here, and right now I had no desire to see anyone connected with the palace or their charming police force.

  “He is rather aggressive,” the EI persisted. “He says he will stand outside until you, as he put it, ‘goddamn deign to acknowledge my existence.’”

  That wasn’t Majda. I sat up in the dark, the covers falling around my hips. Then I remembered I didn’t have on any clothes. I lay back down and pulled up the blanket. “Fine. Let him in. But I’m not getting up.” Closing my eyes, I endeavored to sleep.

  “Let him in?” The EI sounded confused.

  “That’s right.” I had no intention of explaining myself to a machine.

  I had started to drift off when someone walked into the room. I’d have recognized that booted tread anywhere. “I’m asleep,” I muttered. “Go away.”

  The bed shifted as he sat down. “Bhaaj, come on.” Jak pulled the pillow off my head. “You know you’re glad to see me.”

  “Like hell.” I turned onto my back under the covers. Light trickled in from the living room and cast his face in planes of light and shadow. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I have sources.”

  I glowered at him. “Did your sources tell you I’m dangerous when bat-brains wake me up?”

  His wicked grin flashed. “Sounds interesting.”

  “You make me crazy, Jak.”

  His smile faded. “I also heard the Majda police chief tried clinching you on a murder rap.”

  “She doesn’t have any evidence against me.”

  “That’s right. I just got back from the station.”

  “What!” I sat up so fast, I forgot I was wearing any clothes. Then I grabbed the metallic blanket and smacked my fist against my chest, covering myself. “Why did they bring you in?”

  “They didn’t.” He was watching my gyrations in the blanket with a great deal of interest. “I went in on my own.”

  “What for?”

  “To tell them you had dinner with me.”

  I gaped at him. “You gave me an alibi?”

  “Yah.”

  “If they start sniffing around the Black Mark—”

  “They won’t find shit. I moved it.”

  “Even so.”

  “Even so.” His gaze was dark.

  I had never known Jak to put anything ahead of the Black Mark. To risk Majda attention so he could give me an alibi was so far off from what I expected, I just stared at him.

  “Major Bhaajan, stunned into silence?” He smiled. “That’s one for history.”

  I scowled at him. “Ha, ha.”

  “That sounds more like the Bhaaj I know.”

  “Jak.” I spoke awkwardly. “Thanks.”

  He stabbed his finger at me. “Just be careful.”

  “All right.” I tapped his chin. “You still got that cute dimple.”

  He folded his hand around my fingers. “You’re going to ruin my reputation, you go telling people Mean Jak has a cute dimple.”

  “I hear Mean Jak has other attributes, too.” I let go of the blanket, and it fell onto the bed, around my hips.

  His gaze turned dusky as he stared at me, good and long. Then he pulled me into his arms. “You’re looking good, Major.”

  “So are you,” I murmured as I slid my arms around him. He moved his palm up my back, making my skin prickle. Then we lay together on the air mattress. I rolled with him onto my side while we tangled our legs in the sheets. He felt good in my arms, his body lean and familiar. His kiss was hungry, seven years hungry, but I remembered it as if it had been yesterday.

  They say night lasts forever on Raylicon. This time, I was glad for the endless hours. Jak and I had plenty of time. Maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly, but tough. When the sun came out we could deal with the reasons we shouldn’t be doing this.

  For tonight, we would forget.

  * * *

  I sat up with a jerk. “Scorch!”

  “Ungh,” Jak mumbled. He pulled a pillow over his head against the sunlight streaming through the windows.

  “Max,” I said. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes.” His voice came from my gauntlets, which I had dropped on the fl
oor last night.

  “Check the EI for this place. Is its spyware still blocked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I remember where I saw the pin that bodyguard took off Krestone. Scorch smuggles them. It’s a recording device.”

  “You think Scorch was spying on Lavinda Majda?” Max asked.

  I swung my legs off the bed. “Could be.”

  “Scorch wouldn’t be that stupid,” Jak mumbled under the pillow. “She gets busted for spying on Majda, she’s sorry she’s alive.”

  “She’s a risk-taker.” I padded across the room and into the bathing chamber. The tiled pool was bigger than my living room in Selei city. As I slid into the water, soap-bots swam around me, glittering like silver and blue fish. They even matched the color scheme the tiles. Welcome to the Majda universe.

  Jak appeared in the doorway, framed in its horseshoe arch, holding the sheet around his hips. His lean chest with its chiseled muscles and dark hair showed above the wrinkled blue cloth. Nice.

  “There’s risks and there’s insanity,” he said. “Scorch has a lucrative operation. She wouldn’t risk it by rizzing-off the General of the Pharaoh’s Army.”

  I slid into the pool until only my shoulders were above water. “That depends on the stakes.”

  Jak leaned against the doorframe. “The undercity survives in the shadow of Majda. We don’t bother them, they don’t notice us. Why would Scorch upset that balance?”

  “Maybe she’s selling to Traders.”

  “I hope you didn’t say that to her.”

  I squinted at him. “I might have, uh, implied it.”

  He stared at me. “And you’re still alive?”