by Sara King
Anna scoffed. “Wideman’s pictures had a node. I gave her a node. If she’s really that important to his predictions, she wouldn’t have died so easily.”
“What excellent seven-year-old psychopath logic,” Jersey retorted.
“I’m nine,” Anna replied around a mouthful of jerky.
Unable to take her sister’s shit any longer, needing to burst Anna’s smug bubble, Magali said, “Tatiana Eyre is alive and recovering.”
Anna blinked made a surprised sound. “Seriously? How much is left of her? A third of her brain? A partial skull? Can she even talk?”
“She’s unharmed and safe,” Magali said. Then, because she wanted to drive her point home, she leaned forward and said, “Whatever atrocity you attempted, whatever terrible new scheme bubbled up from the rotting cauldron of your fermenting mind, it failed.”
Anna started laughing, then caught herself and frowned, watching Magali’s face all-too-carefully. Very evenly, she said, “You figure out how to lie while I was gone, there, Mags?”
Magali just gave her the smug look Anna had been giving them only minutes before.
Anna narrowed her shit-brown eyes. Eventually, she seemed to shake herself and said, “I want to introduce my friend Panner North.”
“Who?” Magali asked, glancing at the large man that had taken up residence against the edge of the tent behind Anna.
“Nonono,” Anna said. “That’s Dobie. This is Panner.” She grabbed something in the air and yanked, and the people around them gasped as a thin, grinning blond boy close to Anna’s age appeared beside her, seemingly out of thin air. Anna held up the object, which, Magali could now see, appeared to be some form of cuttlecloth, but when it flapped over Anna, it made her disappear completely, rather than just provide her with a blurry camouflage.
“Hello, everyone,” Panner said, bowing courteously. He couldn’t have been any older than eight.
“So you see,” Anna said, giving Magali a pointed look, “I haven’t just been screwing around up in the Orbital.” She tossed the cloth to the table, making sections of the pressboard disappear as if it weren’t even there, “So. Starting today, Pan will be the liaison between my group of Yolk Babies and your group of freedom fighters. You provide us with information and security, we’ll provide you with stuff like that.” She gestured at the cloth that had rendered the table and jerky invisible.
Absolute silence followed Anna’s words. Then, reluctantly, Jersey said, “What do you mean, your group of Yolk Babies?”
Anna grinned, and Magali again saw herself putting a bullet between her malignant brown eyes. “We’re up to…what…” she glanced at Pan, “fifteen, now?”
“Sixteen if you count FlameOn,” Panner said. “Still haven’t found him yet. And MadMorga’s probably down for the count. Nephyrs hit her parents’ camp eleven days ago, no idea where she went.”
“FlameOn’s a joke, and MadMorga’s probably better off dead,” Anna said dismissively. She turned back to the group. “Fifteen,” she told Jersey, grinning at him cheerfully. “And we all have the exact same goal as you guys—utterly obliterate the Coalition.”
“Nobody’s going to ‘obliterate’ the Coalition,” Jersey said, frowning. “We’re gonna be lucky just to get them to leave us alone out here.”
Anna snorted and looked the Nephyr over with total disdain. “Seriously, sis. Where’d you get this guy? Underachievers Anonymous?”
“What she means,” Panner said, glancing sideways at Anna, “is that we all have similar goals and we’d like to pool our resources.”
“Yeah,” Anna said. “Our brainpower, your brawn.”
There was total silence at the table, with no sound but that of the tadflies bumping against the tent walls. Even Magali, who had lived with a Yolk Baby, had never conceived of fifteen of them being in one spot.
“Did you say,” Carvin managed, “you have fifteen Yolk Babies at your disposal?”
“At your disposal, sir,” Panner said, bowing with what looked like a genuine grin. “I’ve seen some of your work on Kelthari power systems. You actually managed to partially integrate human and alien technology before the government confiscated your research. I’m impressed.”
Immediately, the camp engineer flushed crimson, eyes on the impossible piece of cloth the two kids seemed to have shat out in their free time. “Erm, uh, I’m sure it’s nothing like you could do…”
“It’s not,” Anna said. “He’s just trying to make you feel less inadequate.” She shoved the cloth aside to get at the jerky again, once more revealing the middle of the table. Biting into a strip, she grinned at Carvin and said, “But you gave us some ideas.” She paused and frowned thoughtfully. “Well, one idea.”
“Wait,” Drogire demanded, “a couple of kids can’t just walk in here and—”
“Drogire Myr,” Anna interrupted loudly, sounding almost bored, “Real name Cory Dressux. Had six kids in his first marriage, back in the Core. Decided the married life wasn’t for him and got a divorce, headed to the Bounds to avoid paternal compensation bills. Married another gal here on Fortune, a starliner captain. Decided not to make the run back to the Core with her when her duty called, got a fancy smuggling ship out of what could probably be called another divorce. She did turn you over to the Coalition and attempted to get you eviscerated by Nephyrs when she realized you were just stringing her along for the ship.”
Drogire reddened and sat back down while Anna just smiled. “Cory, baby,” she said, “if I’d wanted to ruin your totally insignificant day, I would’ve simply reprogrammed some fancy Coalition satellites to drop a few tungsten rods through your cockpit.” She turned back to Magali. “Speaking of that, does Wednesday sound good for an attack on Rath? I’ve got them locked on seven different targets, there, but I’m thinking the less damage we do, the better for us in the long run.”
Again, there was total silence.
This is how she always does it, Magali thought, gripping the tabletop so hard her fingers hurt. Steps in, shows the world how perfect she is, and then takes over. Just tells everyone how it’s gonna be and nobody says anything to stop her.
And, for the second time in her life, Magali wasn’t going to let her little sister step all over her. She stood up and opened her mouth…
“You little shit!” Milar interrupted from the tent entrance. He threw the box of water bottles he’d gone to fetch to one side, scowling down at Anna with total hatred in his eyes. He jabbed a big, grease-smeared finger at her. “You. Little. Shit.”
“So eloquent these days,” Anna said, nonchalantly watching him over her jerky. “Maybe I’m totally mistaken, but has your time around the cyborg fried a few brain cells, Miles?” She grinned viciously.
Three people in the room recognized that Milar was going to kill Anna as he lunged, but of Magali, Jersey, and Anna’s bodyguard, only the last was swift enough to reach the big man in time.
In a move too fast to catch—Nephyr fast—Anna’s bodyguard caught Milar by the wrist and, with a deft twist, immediately had him on his back, howling.
“So what’s she like, nowadays?” Anna said, continuing to chew. “I imagine a bovid, but with metal parts.”
“You…bitch…” Milar gasped.
It was Panner who defused the situation. “Dobie, release him. He will keep his hands to himself.”
“Yeah he will,” Anna chuckled. “After Dobie rips them off.”
“And Anna will leave.”
For once, the ever-present sneer slid off Anna’s face. She turned and squinted at her companion, who was a couple inches taller than her. “Huh?”
“I’m the liaison,” Panner said calmly. “You were simply introducing us. You’ve introduced us. Now you can leave.”
Anna’s mouth fell open, and the jerky slid to the ground.
Then, as if he had simply told a child to go to bed without dinner, Panner turned to the gathering and said, “We have a plan to take Rath, but we need Runaway Joel’s ship. I saw Honor outs
ide… Why isn’t Joel here?”
Magali immediately tensed, still not wanting Anna to learn about Jeanne’s new status as a ship. She hadn’t spent eight years with the little shit not to get a Very Bad feeling about what would happen if Anna Landborn became aware of the after-effects of Yolk applied at time of death.
Anna didn’t seem to be paying attention to her, though. She was staring at the back of Panner’s blond head. Then, after a moment, she nodded at Dobie—her robot?—and stalked from the tent. Dobie released Milar.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Whitecliff,” Dobie said in apology, offering Milar a hand up. “I can’t let you kill her, as much as she might deserve it.”
Milar stared at the robot’s proffered hand in open-mouthed silence. After a couple seconds had gone by, Milar blinking up at Dobie, Dobie offering his hand, Anna’s impatient whine of, “Now, Dobie,” interrupted them. Dobie quickly took a step backwards, gave Milar a courteous nod, then said to the rest of the gathering, “It was very nice to meet you all. I wish you luck in your attack on Rath.” Then he turned and followed the little gremlin out.
“That damned thing doesn’t act like a robot,” Drogire growled.
“Who knows what it is,” Carvin Vellie muttered. “Knowing who it’s working for, it might’ve started out human.”
“It’s a robot,” Panner assured them, reminding him of his presence there. “Just an augmented Ferris.” Though he had a small frown of concern on his face as he watched Dobie leave.
“We’re not sure where Joel is,” Jersey said, once Anna’s ship started retracting its landing ramp. “Last I heard, he was wining and dining Jeanne Ivory, then they crashed.”
“Someone should look into that,” Panner said, helping Milar back to his feet. “He and Jeanne were carrying some very valuable cargo when they went down.”
“Thanks,” Milar muttered, as the kid offered him a chair.
It’s like good cop, bad cop, Magali thought, her skin prickling with goosebumps. She didn’t know which was worse—the one she knew was rotten to the core, or the one who could be hiding it.
“So—Miles, is it?” Panner said, by way of introduction. “I hear you are planning on launching against Rath.” He grimaced. “I’m not trying to step on any toes, here, but I think that might be a mistake.”
“They’ve got my brother!” Milar snapped, lunging to his feet. “If you think you’re gonna stop me, you mangy little turd…”
Panner pulled a small chip from his front pocket and plugged it into the ancient holoprojector sitting in the center of the table. “First off,” Panner said, “your brother’s alive.” He brought up one of the familiar images of Patrick being skinned alive. “That,” he said, pointing at ‘Patrick’s’ body, “Is a robot, just like what they used when they ‘skinned’ you. The Coalition commissioned it the moment you went missing the second time. Wasn’t too hard to find, looking in the right spots…” The young blond brought up a purchase order detailing out a robot ‘in the image of the Blackpit twin.’ “Further,” Panner went on, “the feed originates from the Orbital, not Rath, as it claims.” He switched the feed to a new image, this one a grainy picture of a man being led by five Nephyrs into a processing center in Rath. “That is your brother. He’s being held in the basement of the highest-security building on Rath. It’s guarded by four altrameter muskers, and is called the Lockbox by base personnel. Anything they don’t want getting away, they put it in there. Even tighter security than the Yolk shipments.” He changed the camera image again, and this time showed a picture of Patrick glaring at the wall of a prison cell. “As you can see, he’s obviously bored, but otherwise unscathed.”
Milar blinked at him. “My brother’s okay?” he asked, stupidly.
“Beyond a doubt,” Panner said, cutting the image off and leaning back in his chair like he owned it. “Though we’re not sure what happened to Wideman Joe. We searched every security feed on Fortune and the Orbital for his face profile for the last week and a half, but it’s like he just disappeared.”
Once again, silence reigned in the tent, and Magali wasn’t sure who was smoother—Anna, or her new friend. While Anna used mental clout to slap people around until they danced to her tune, Panner was much, much more subtle about it. The fact that, instead of demanding more proof regarding his brother and shouting nonsense about attacking Rath anyway, Milar had settled down for the first time in a week and was leaning forward to get a better look at the newcomer proved to Magali that Panner was the more dangerous of the two of them, and that immediately put her on edge.
“So how many ships do we have?” Panner insisted. “How many men could we use to take Rath, if Joel cleans them out for us?”
“Joel’s not leaving the jungle any time soon,” Magali told him.
Panner raised a brow. “Why?”
Magali and Jersey, who had discussed what would happen if Anna figured out what had happened to Jeanne, cast each other a wary look.
“I’m not Anna’s lapdog, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Panner told them, correctly reading their expressions. “What happened that you don’t want her to know?”
“The Yolk’s destroyed,” Jersey said hesitantly.
“Yeah, she thought you were lying, so she looked up the trajectory and flight speed, then was satisfied the ship was pretty much trashed on impact.”
“Jeanne’s…” How could she put it? “Jeanne’s not herself anymore.”
“Injured,” Jersey said.
“And Joel’s decided to stay and patch her up.”
Panner frowned. “Seems like there are better places to nurse someone back to health than a shipwreck in the jungle.”
“Yeah, well.” Milar, who had also gone to visit Jeanne, cleared his throat. “Maybe someday you’ll meet her and see what we mean. Until then…” He leaned forward, until he was almost face-to-face with Panner. “Tell me how we’re getting my brother out of Rath.”
“With the fifty smuggler ships Geo promised us, we might have what it takes to get in and get out,” Panner said. “But we’re metals-poor out here in the Bounds, and Anna’s right. We need to conserve as much of the tech and infrastructure as we can, or the Coalition’s simply going to come back in ten years and annihilate us with superior resources.”
“They do have superior resources,” Jersey said. “Any way you cut it, we’re just one planet against the Core. The best we can hope for is independence.” Unlike the majority of the others at the table, he didn’t seem to be in awe of the eight-year-old sitting amongst them. If anything, he looked as wary as Magali felt.
“Not true,” Panner said flamboyantly. “You guys found us some working Aashaanti tech. Given the time to properly study it, we could advance the human race by generations. Just that single robot arm has given us a window into Aashaanti technologies that the human race has never had before. What else might be down there? With the size of that ship that carved out the Tear, we’re looking at billions of buried artifacts, and if one was working, who’s to say the rest aren’t, as well?”
Magali met Jersey’s eyes uncomfortably. Tatiana Eyre, in a drugged-to-the-gills rant that alternated between hallucinating little purple Shriekers crawling out of Jersey’s ears and demanding a ship to captain because she was ‘totally fit for duty,’ had insisted that there was a special Aashaanti command ship crammed about a mile under the northern tip of the Tear that was powering the shredders, and Milar had backed her up. They had kept that information utterly between the four of them, however, not quite ready to reveal it until they knew how they were going to get to it, and definitely not willing to tell Anna about it until they were ready.
“We’ve got what we need to beat them,” Panner went on, oblivious. “That’s why it’s so important you guys send us anything you find down here. We’re sitting on a gold mine of resources that they don’t even know about yet.”
“And you just expect us to give them to you,” Jersey said.
His voice cut through the blond kid’s mo
nologue like a knife, and Panner hesitated, giving Jersey a once-over. “Nobody’s ‘giving’ anything away. We’re all on the same side.”
“The way I see things,” Magali said, finally forcing her fingers to release the table edge and slowly getting to her feet. Every head in the room turned to await her next words, so she chose them carefully. “This is an alliance, not a merging of forces. You can do your research here, under Carvin’s supervision.”
Panner nodded. “Of course.” Then he winced. “Though…” He glanced over his shoulder at Milar, “Anna Landborn is our star performer in that arena. If you want us to do our diagnoses here, then we’ll have to give her a more permanent residence in this camp.”
“Yeah, fuck that,” Milar said. “I see that little bitch again, I’m putting a beam through her skull.”
“Well, if you want the analysis to take place elsewhere,” Panner said like he didn’t care at all, “you’d keep the stockpiles of whatever you find here, and we could just borrow them for study.” He shrugged, and Magali felt her eyes narrow.
“It would be more secure to keep our finds elsewhere,” Roxy piped up. “We might have to pack up and move at any minute. I take it you Yolk Babies have some hidey-hole keeping you safe?”
Panner nodded. “It’s a section of the Junkyard we cordoned off and locked down. Nobody goes in or out but us.”
“Sounds good,” Carvin said. “I mean, what if they take this place? We’d lose everything.”
And then, in that minute, watching her team go from an independently-minded group of rebels to glorified miners working for Panner North, Magali knew. Whatever hazard Anna’s twisted mind might pose, Panner was a hundred times more dangerous.
“So let’s compare notes on Geo,” Panner went on, as if the subject were already decided. “What’s he getting out of this, aside from half of a base full of nonexistent Yolk?”
Several of the rebels glanced at each other. “Nothing,” one of them said. “Just wants to see those Coalers fry for killing his son.”
“Magali killed his son,” Panner said. “Joel’s too much of a chickenshit to shoot someone point-blank. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” He gave Magali an apologetic look, then turned back to the rest, “So he’s playing us. He’s probably waiting for you to give him a date and time and he’s gonna throw everything he’s got in with the coalers. Expect double, maybe even triple the ships he’s promised you to show up fighting for the opposite side.”
