“Two years have passed,” Micah reminded him. “Much may have changed.”
Ru nodded. “I can tell you that whatever hostilities exist between factions have intensified recently.”
Did she have more knowledge of this place than she’d let on? Evidently her information was good, because for the first time, there was a flicker of uncertainty in Ivar’s eyes. The people who had ruled this place when he left might no longer be in power. They might not even be on Hydra at all. And factions that had once supported each other might no longer be willing to do so. What would his promises be worth to Ru and Micah, if all that were the case? Ivar looked at Ru. “There are two ways to handle this. You can dock in the Saito array. That’s the easy way. If you don’t trust my word on the safety of that, I can ask them to ferry the payment out to you in open space. Your call.”
“We can dock,” she said.
“Excellent.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now, while we wait for Dominic’s response,” he folded his arms across his chest, “why don’t you tell me more about the weapon that Shenshido was working on. The one they were going to use on scavs.”
She chuckled. “Really, Ivar? That kind of information has value.”
“I’m not a poor man. What’s the price?”
“There are some things that require more than money.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “What, then? Information? Data for data?”
She smiled faintly. “I could just call in the favor you owe me, if I wanted that.”
“You could,” he agreed. “And then I wouldn’t be in debt to you anymore. Much better situation for me, to be sure.”
She looked at Micah, a question in her eyes. How he wished he were connected to the ship’s net, so that they could communicate privately! It was frustrating to be limited to voice and facial expressions, like cavemen who could only grunt and wave at each other. He glanced back at the bizarre station on the screen. Odds were that somewhere in that chaos of ships and flyways and natural rock was a clue that could help them identify Shenshido’s mastermind. What were the odds they could just go in blind, on their own, and discover it? Close to zero. Ivar could make it easier. But was that enough reason to trust him?
We have no choice. He nodded to Ru. Go ahead.
“All right then,” she said. She turned back to Ivar. “We’ll barter. Knowledge for knowledge. But once we do that, you’re all in. No bartering for new favors. We work together to identify the weapon that drove Shenshido mad, before it can be used on the scavs. Agreed?”
He stared at her for a long moment. Studying her. Then at Micah. Something about his gaze made Micah’s skin crawl. Like fingers were feeling around inside him. Finally the scav nodded. “For as long as our interests are the same,” he agreed.
“Your word on that?” Micah asked sharply.
Ivar scowled slightly. “My word.”
Ru leaned back in her chair; it whirred softly as it accommodated the change in position. “Do bear in mind that what little of the story we know, we’ve had to piece together ourselves. Terran megacorps don’t share their plans with outsiders. We were able to figure out that the scientists on Shenshido were working on some kind of weapon, that they meant to use against scavs. It got loose before they had a counteragent ready, and . . . well, you saw the result. What happened to the people on that station was fully intended. It just wasn’t supposed to affect its creators.”
“It was meant for the scavs.”
“That’s what one local suggested.” She nodded toward Hydra. “I’m guessing that was the intended target.”
“What was the delivery system? A disease?”
“Maybe. Or maybe something chemical. Or something in the environment. I wasn’t on Shenshido long enough to observe how it worked. Only that it did.”
“But its purpose was to induce madness.”
“To induce hallucinations. People saw things that didn’t really exist. Eventually they lost the ability to tell fantasy from reality, and that’s what drove them insane. The scientists probably figured that if they could infect scavs with it, they could get them to turn on each other.”
“What kinds of hallucinations?” There was a new edge to his voice now. “Give me an example.”
“Well, you told me the people on the upper level looked like rotting corpses.”
“Didn’t they?”
She shook her head.
“But I saw them myself—”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “You did see them yourself.”
For a moment there was silence. Then: “You said that Shenshido hadn’t affected me.”
A faint smile appeared. “I lied, to reassure you.”
For a moment he said nothing. Then: “All right. What information do you want in return for that?”
“We’re trying to figure out if they tested their weapon in its earlier stages. Launched a prototype, maybe.” She looked pointedly at the screen. “Since it was designed to target scavs, it may have found its way here. So tell me. Do you remember hearing about anything like that, before you left?”
“You mean mass insanity?”
“Hallucinations. Confusion. A blurring of the line between fantasy and reality.” She paused. “Do you remember anyone suffering from that? Or even talking about it?”
He stroked his chin as he considered. “There’s a woman with second sight, an oracle. People bring her offerings, and she counsels them according to visions she has. Do those count?”
“They might. Anything else?”
“There’s a labyrinth surrounding her turf. Those who mean her harm are trapped in it, and never seen again. At least that’s the story.” He paused. “I’ve heard that it’s illusions that cause them to get lost.”
“What kind of illusions?” Micah said sharply.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. The people who’ve seen them don’t generally live to talk about it.” He glanced at the screen. “You could ask around. I’m sure people will tell you stories, if you approach them right. Not sure how many will be true, though. You’ll probably have to pay for any real information.”
Ru frowned. “You suggested earlier it wouldn’t be safe for us to wander around here.”
“If you present yourselves like people who have good reason to seek refuge from the law, and respect what few rules we have here—which basically come down to ‘don’t steal from or murder any locals’—you should be safe enough. But if people get the impression that you’re here to observe them, maybe even report on them to authorities, then you won’t leave this station alive. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”
She nodded. “I appreciate your bluntness.”
“And I’d appreciate hearing what you learn. Since, as it turns out, I do have a vested interest in the outcome.”
“Fair enough.”
He rose stiffly from the chair. “I’m going to pack up my possessions. What few I have left. You’ll let me know when a response to my message gets here?”
“Of course.”
Minutes later he was gone. An uncomfortable silence followed. The skimmer hadn’t been designed for privacy, and anything they talked about, however quietly, might be overheard.
Micah reached out to the keyboard and started typing. His words appeared in red on the screen.
YOU ARE ONE OF THE BEST LIARS I HAVE EVER KNOWN.
She chuckled softly, reached over to the keyboard, and typed, IF HE SUSPECTED THE MADNESS MIGHT HAVE COME FROM HYDRA, HE MIGHT TRY TO PROTECT ITS CREATOR. THESE PEOPLE SOUND LIKE THEY ARE PRETTY TIGHT.
BUT A THREAT TO THE SCAVS WOULD BE A DIRECT THREAT TO HIM, Micah typed. HENCE HIS VESTED INTEREST IN HELPING US IDENTIFY IT.
EXACTLY.
She leaned back in her chair. “So. Do you think you can pass for an outlaw?”
“Are you asking me if I know how to role-play?
Seriously?” He grinned. “I think maybe I can figure it out.”
* * *
(The image of a Saurin male on the screen:)
“Ivar! This is a surprise! We were told you died in the Shenshido raid. I’m happy to hear that wasn’t true, and I’m sure the Patronus will be also. Three of your men who made it back have told many tales of your exploits . . . and of your death. Never mind. You’re here now. (Leans back in chair, arms folded across his chest.) A lot has changed in the past two years, but nothing you can’t catch up on. Be careful around your crew, though. They thought you were dead and gone, and probably divvied up your stuff long ago. A few may have mixed feelings about your return. As for the people who brought you back here, of course they’ll be honored guests. The fare’s a bit pricey, but I don’t imagine you had many options. I’ll make sure it’s covered.” (Reaches down below the frame.) “Am appending a file with instructions for your approach, as well as an emergency channel to use if you run into trouble when you arrive. We’ll talk more when we can do it realtime, yes?”
END TRANSMISSION
OUTERNET FORECAST
Processing is slow today in Harmony Node, due to a high-pressure system impacting all tourist-related industries. Expect delays in transportation, reservations, entertainment, banking, and food services to continue through the week, as preparations for the upcoming Harvester Festival place pressure upon those systems.
Guildmaster Dresden has announced that Harmony Station will prioritize outgoing traffic beginning on the 24th. This will facilitate realtime broadcasts of Harvest events, but reduce channels available for incoming data. Those planning to visit during the Festival are advised to send any information pertaining to their itinerary in advance, and to confirm its safe arrival no later than the 23rd. Standard operating protocols will be restored at midnight on the 26th.
HARMONY NODE
HYDRA COLLECTIVE
SAITO’S RECEPTION ship hadn’t changed—it was still a saucer-shaped vehicle connected to the rest of Hydra by flyways—but there were six mooring stations now, spaced out evenly along the rim. If six vessels docked at the same time, the ship would look like a giant starfish.
Heading toward the reception lounge, where Dominic had said they could talk, Ivar felt strangely disoriented. The interior of the ship looked familiar to him—little had changed in two years—yet it felt so alien. He’d been trapped too long in the sterile labs and false forests of Shenshido; the world which had once been as much a part of him as his own skin now seemed strangely off-kilter.
The central lounge was mostly unchanged. There was still a lot of cushy seating, a well-stocked bar, and a collection of unique contraband displayed in locked cases along one wall. He recognized a sacred chalice he’d given to the Patronus of the clan some years back, stolen from a religious outpost. Supposedly anyone who touched it without the proper prayers of reverence would be struck dead on the spot. He remembered how the Patronus had poured wine into it, laughing, and then passed it around for everyone to take a sip. “Now we are all blessed.”
That chalice had transformed Ivar from a dime-a-dozen freelance thief to a person of significance, and clinched his status as an ally of Saito. All the good things that came to him after had flowed forth from that moment. He never did offer the clan his formal allegiance—it went against the grain to compromise his independence like that—but Saito backed his forays often enough that he might as well have. He was all but family.
Or that’s what he had been, two years ago. Who knew what he was now?
Dominic was waiting for him, and rose as he entered the lounge. The fine scales on his face glittered as he broke into a broad smile. “Ivar!” He strode forward and offered him a hand clasp, which became a forearm clasp, which became a hearty embrace. “Son of the devil! I never thought you would come back to us.”
“That makes two of us.”
He stepped back, holding him by the shoulders, and looked him over, top to bottom. “A bit worse for wear, it looks like.”
Ivar shrugged. “It’s been a rough couple of years.”
“Nothing a drink wouldn’t address, eh? Your usual?”
“Please.”
As Dominic headed over to the bar he kept talking. “Your own people reported you dead, you know.”
“They survived?”
“Three of them limped home. With one battered singler between them, that barely made the trip. Few people came out of that fight unscathed. On the rocks, right?”
“Yes, please.”
There was the sound of liquid splashing into a glass. “They told us your ship crashed into the docking ring at full speed and broke up into a thousand pieces. No one could possibly have survived that, they said. Etcetera, etcetera.” He walked back to Ivar with two glasses and handed him one; the scent of fine whiskey with a hint of added spice stung his nostrils pleasantly. “Meridan whiskey. Made with a grain so rare it’s forbidden to export the stuff.”
Ivar held up the glass in a salute. “To illegal pleasures, then.”
The whiskey was smooth and rich, and it made everything feel a little more familiar. He remembered the day he and Dominic had gotten drunk in this room, and spent an hour talking about the best way to dismember Harmony Station and sell it for parts. With that much whiskey in their veins it had seemed a reasonable plan. “I evacked just in time. Shenshido picked me up when the battle was over. After that came imprisonment, and then a lengthy fight for survival, whose details I’d rather not talk about. At least while I’m sober.”
“That bad, eh?” Dominic lowered himself into a thickly cushioned chair and motioned for Ivar to do the same. “I imagine you’ll be asked for that story incessantly, once people realize you’re home.”
Ivar raised his glass. “Then I guess I’ll have to drink a lot more.”
Dominic took a drink, rolled the taste of it around his tongue, then swallowed. “So tell me about the two who brought you back here. Friends? Allies? Anyone we should worry about?”
Ivar sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know much about their backgrounds or their motives. But they saved my life.” Which wouldn’t have been necessary if I hadn’t chosen to join that fucking raid, but that’s another story. “Thus far they seem to have played straight with me, but who knows? They may simply be skilled liars.”
He chuckled. “Hardly a rare commodity here. Do you know if they have any further interest in Hydra? Or are they just here to drop you off and pick up the reward?”
Ivar hesitated. “I imagine they’ll want to look around. I certainly would.”
“Well, since you’re vouching for them—to a certain degree—tell them they can leave their ship docked here while they play tourist. That’s assuming they don’t do anything that would make me want to rescind that invitation.”
“I’ll let them know.”
Dominic took another drink; the iridescent scales on the back of his hand shimmered as he tipped the glass, gazing at Ivar through the amber liquid. “We go way back, you and I, don’t we?”
Ivar nodded. “Quite a ways.”
“You regard me as a friend?”
He shrugged. “As much as I do anyone here.”
“Then you won’t take it amiss if I give you some advice?”
“As long as you don’t take it amiss if I choose to ignore it.”
Dominic sighed heavily. For a moment he just stared down into his glass. “You’ve been dead for two years, Ivar. Not missing; dead. Gone forever. That’s what your crew thought, so it’s what they told everyone else.” He paused. “Two years is a long time in this place.”
He raised an eyebrow. “My crew still exists?”
“The three who returned from Shenshido recruited new members. Greenies, mostly. Spike is in charge now, so the crew’s his.”
He snorted. “Ambitious bastard.”
“You’re a stranger to t
he new ones. Hell, you’re a stranger to much of Hydra. It might be harder than you think, reestablishing yourself here.”
“I’ll manage.” He took another drink of whiskey. “So is that your counsel? That I should worry about the obstacles ahead of me? If so, advice noted.”
He said it quietly: “I think you should reconsider joining Saito.”
Ivar was silent for a moment. “We’ve had that conversation. What, a dozen times now? Two dozen? My answer’s never changed.”
“But Hydra has changed. It’s not the same as when you left. The raid on Shenshido cost us dearly. We haven’t got the number of skilled operatives we used to, but we’ve got the same number of patroni needing to hire them. Which has proven . . . disruptive.”
“Fewer whores, but not fewer whoremongers.”
“Exactly.”
Ivar shrugged. “So it’s a seller’s market. Clans will compete for our services . . . can’t get better than that, as far as I’m concerned.” He paused. “Are you worried I might do business with another clan? I’ve always been a Saito man at heart, if not by formal ties.”
“We appreciate that. And when the clans were merely rivals to one another, it was sufficient. But now . . . the competition for human resources has pushed us beyond that. In order for one clan to hire the best operatives, the others must fail to hire them. It’s no longer possible for all of us to prosper equally.”
“So you want to bind me to your service, is that it? Not just have me working for you, but make sure I can’t work for anyone else?”
“For your own safety.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Right. I’m sure that’s the only reason.”
Putting down his glass, Dominic leaned forward intensely. “You’re missing the big picture, Ivar. It’s never been a secret that you do work for us. Others will try to bribe you away, into their service. And if that fails . . .” He let the words trail off suggestively.
“They won’t want me working for you anymore.”
This Virtual Night Page 23
