gaian consortium 03 - the gaia gambit

by Pope, Christine

  A flicker of irritation passed over the Eridani’s features, and he moved closer to her, bent down so he could gaze directly into her face. She stared back at him without flinching, noting that many would have probably called him handsome, with his straight nose and firm chin, the well-formed brows. But she had never found herself much attracted to Eridanis. Something about the lavender skin and odd little antennae that sprouted from within their gleaming purple hair just didn’t speak to her own personal aesthetics of what constituted personal beauty.

  Obviously, she had very different feelings when it came to Stacians…or at least one particular Stacian.

  “What is it about you,” the Eridani said in half-musing tones, “that would make someone such as Rast sen Drenthan, a man who had his entire career ahead of him, throw it all away?” He reached out and took her chin between two fingers, turning her head this way and that, as if inspecting every detail of her visage.

  Lira forced herself to stay grimly quiet, to let him handle her as if she were a piece of meat he was inspecting at the market, trying to find a flaw. She wanted to spit at him, bite down on those lavender-skinned fingers, and despite everything she had to hold back a bleak smile. Perhaps some of Rast’s temper had rubbed off on her.

  “I suppose some would consider you attractive enough, for a Gaian,” the Eridani went on. “Still, it can’t be only that. Are you particularly talented? Can you suck a ball bearing through a braided-steel hose?”

  Breathe, Lira told herself. He’s just trying to goad you. Don’t react.

  So she stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes, not saying anything, barely even allowing herself to swallow.

  He didn’t like that, she could tell; his dark purple eyes narrowed, and he let go of her chin. Lira’s relief at being released was short-lived, however, because the fingers that had been touching her face then trailed down her neck, drifted over the high collar of her modish new suit, then moved lower down, over the slope of her breast.

  It was impossible to stay silent then. A muffled sound of protest came from low in her throat, try as she might to choke it back.

  “Does this bother you?” he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “I must confess to being a little surprised. After all, you obviously had no problem sleeping with a Stacian, as large and rough and uncouth as they are. Here on Eridani we are…more civilized.”

  “If this is what you call civilized,” she retorted, “then it’s no wonder I prefer a barbarian.”

  He laughed. “I’ll make sure he knows you called him that. Not that he probably cares overmuch what you think.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lira snapped, before she realized she shouldn’t have replied at all.

  The Eridani straightened slowly, then crossed his arms and stared down at her with a satisfied expression on his regular features. “He’s played his role well, hasn’t he?”

  “What role?” She tried to sound indifferent, but despite her admonition to herself not to listen to what this man had to say, to put no stock in his words, trickles of ice began to work their way down her spine.

  “The role of ardent lover, of course. He did well to get you to move your ship out of the Chlorae system, but it went much further than that. All this time he’s been following our orders. And then when you also led us to a hacker who’s been stirring up trouble in various of our other business interests, well, that was just a very pleasant bonus.”

  Don’t listen to him, she told herself. He’s seen that you care for Rast, so obviously he’s going to say whatever he thinks will upset you the most. And if that includes dragging Jackson into this…

  But she couldn’t let herself think about that, either. Bad enough that she should be caught like this, and Rast as well. Jackson had only been trying to help. If she’d somehow led these people to him, she’d never forgive herself.

  So she stared down at the gleaming toes of her pewter-colored boots, and retreated once more into silence.

  The Eridani scowled. “Very well. I am not a man to indulge in torture, and you’ve served your purpose well enough. Some of my…associates…thought you should be disposed of here and now, but that is not the Eridani way. You remember your old compatriot, Gared Tomas?”

  Fear flared in her at the mention of the crime lord she’d double-crossed, but she just continued to look down at the tooled leather of her boots, her expression stony. She could only hope that she hadn’t betrayed herself with a twitch or a shiver as she realized what the Eridani had planned.

  He must have seen something, because the satisfaction was clear in his voice as he went on, “I see that you do. Well, he’s expressed some interest in having you returned to him…although I have a feeling he expects you to fulfill a slightly different role than you did previously.”

  Oh, God. She recalled Tomas’s cold green eyes all too well, the way that feral gaze used to travel up and down her body, even after she’d told him she would only be his pilot, and nothing else. And now Daos Senn was going to send her back to Iradia, back to the man whose ship she’d stolen, whose second-in-command she’d murdered. It did not take a great deal of imagination to guess what her fate would be.

  Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be a great deal she could do about it.

  * * *

  Rast glared at sen Trannick, who stared back at him imperturbably from across a polished glass conference table, and then wordlessly pushed a container of some beverage toward him. “Go on, drink. You need something to clear your mind.”

  “I will not sit and share a drink with you,” Rast said loudly, even though the effort hurt his head. He had awakened in this chair, and realized he had not been bound. Hardly necessary, with those two soldiers flanking him, and four more in the corners of the room — some kind of conference chamber, he realized. Perhaps he’d raised his voice for their benefit as much as that of the older man who faced him.

  “Rast, Rast.” The admiral got to his feet and came closer, leaning against the edge of the table less than an arm’s length away. The proximity was meant to be subtly insulting, indicating he did not see Rast as the sort of threat that required any distance to be maintained between them. “Time to brush the sand from your eyes. You can still salvage your reputation, if you remove your head from where it appears to be lodged firmly up your backside.”

  Although every cell in his body ached to jump up from his seat, to strike sen Trannick down and take his chances with the other guards in the room, Rast forced himself to remain where he was, to fix an expression of what he hoped was dubious interest on his features. “Explain.”

  The admiral smiled slightly, as if pleased to see that his subordinate appeared to be softening. “Captain, do you think you’re the first man to have his head turned by a female? It seems she got to you more than most, but you need to forget her. You can have your pick of almost any eligible woman on Stacia — and some that aren’t quite as eligible, if that’s where your tastes lie.”

  Rast knew exactly where his tastes lay — wherever poor Lira was at this very moment — but he knew better to say that. He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t so successful at that before.”

  “I suppose you’re speaking of Lilarth. Stupid girl. I told her she didn’t play that very well, not well at all. Ah, well, the women on that side of the family were never known for their brain power.”

  Expressing his agreement on that score probably wouldn’t be very wise, so Rast only clasped his hands on the table in front of him and asked, “And if I admit my mistake? All is forgiven?”

  The admiral’s expression brightened at once. “I gave you a month, Captain, and you have not yet overstepped that deadline. As long as you will agree that your ‘family business’ has been handled?”

  He hated himself for it, but Rast knew he must do and say whatever he had to in order to regain sen Trannick’s trust. Only that way could he find out what had happened to Lira. “I believe so, your Excellency.”

  A clap on the sho
ulder, and the admiral’s scarred lips lifted in what looked like a genuine smile. “Very good. I’ll make arrangements to get us off this forsaken planet so we can get you back to Syrinara.”

  “About that, Admiral — ”

  At once sen Trannick’s gaze sharpened. “What, sen Drenthan?”

  Rast knew he would have to tread carefully here. Injecting a certain amount of scorn into his tone, he said, “The Eridanis, your Excellency. Why are we involved with them at all? I thought our goal was to make the Stacian Federation self-sufficient, to show them that we no longer needed their assistance.”

  “That point of view has merit, Captain, but they have been useful to us. We needed that millenite, so when certain…interests…here approached me about taking it, then I thought it wise to listen. And I’m glad I did, because now the Stacian Federation controls Chlorae II, and the Gaians are left to scrounge where they can.”

  “‘Interests’?” Rast repeated, hoping that the admiral had accepted his change of heart at face value and would give more details.

  Sen Trannick gave a feral grin. “You think all the Eridanis are happy to see the Gaians spread like a cancer across the galaxy? No, some have come to realize that a healthy dose of self-interest can only help their cause. And since the Stacian Federation is the only entity with the gollonth to stand up to the Gaian Consortium, naturally those more patriotic Eridani were only too interested in working with us.”

  “Very sensible,” Rast agreed, but his mind was churning away furiously. So there was a dissident group here on Eridani that wasn’t quite as peace and love and living together in harmony as its leaders would like the rest of the galaxy to think. This conspiracy had been designed to shift the balance of power on a galactic scale, to push Gaia back from its headlong quest to have so many colonies that it would be impossible to contain them.

  A month ago, he would have thought that a fine notion, that Gaia needed to be sent running like a minsk with its tail between its legs. But a month ago he hadn’t known Lira Jannholm, hadn’t understood that a Gaian could be as honorable as any Stacian he’d ever met, as fierce, as loyal and brilliant and beautiful. The Consortium wasn’t the monolith that men like Admiral sen Trannick thought it to be, but a place of many individuals, each with their own dreams and hopes and desires. And Rast thought of Miala and Jerem and Eryk Thorn, and the baby, and the little corner of unclaimed wilderness they called their own. None of them were anything close to a cancer…they were just people.

  He knew he had to somehow get the conversation back around to Lira, or he might already be too late to save her. “So this Lira Jannholm,” he said casually. “Was I just lucky that she was an attractive woman, or would you have made that bet with me regardless?”

  The admiral actually laughed at that. “No, her placement was fortuitous. Actually, I was contacted by Master Senn, who said he had a proposition for me that would be mutually beneficial for both of us.”

  No doubt of that, Rast thought, recalling the enormous sums Jackson Wyler said had been transferred into sen Trannick’s various accounts. Well, one mystery solved. Now Rast knew exactly where that money had come from.

  “Doubly fortuitous, actually,” the admiral went on, “because he knew she had an association with a certain hacker named Jackson Wyler, someone the authorities on several worlds have had their eye on for some time. We couldn’t be sure that she would go to him for help, but as she did so eventually, we were able to finally pin down his location.”

  Damn. Not that Rast had any particular love for Jackson Wyler, but if the hacker had been surveilled for some time, that meant there was very little of their movements that the admiral and his Eridani cohorts didn’t know about. Including the Thorns.

  As if reading his thoughts, sen Trannick inquired, “That trip to Gaia — what happened there? We lost track of the mercenaries we sent, and they turned up dead some days later. But by then you’d already left the system, and following your movements was the important thing, so we let it alone.”

  Rast couldn’t allow himself to let out a sigh of relief, but he did send an inner “thank you” to the heavens that the admiral’s single-mindedness had prevented him from sending additional soldiers to the Thorn homestead. Then again, attempting multiple attacks like that, there in the very heart of the Gaian Consortium, was only asking for trouble. And since his quarry had gone, there was no reason to continue the assault. More than likely, the Thorns were all safe, if perhaps less than happy at having to repair the damage the squad of Bathshevan mercs had caused.

  Easily, and with what he hoped was no discernible hesitation, Rast replied, “Oh, we went to visit some relatives of Jannholm’s. They gave us shelter for a few days, but they were poor and couldn’t manage more than that. Besides, they were less than happy at seeing her with a Stacian in tow.”

  “I can imagine.” Sen Trannick chuckled, and appeared to dismiss the matter, as Rast had hoped he would. To a Stacian it would seem perfectly natural for Lira to go to family members for help, even though things hadn’t worked out so well on Ganymede. The admiral’s handheld beeped, and he pulled it out and looked down at the message he’d just received. “Excellent. Our transport is ready, and we can leave. Master Senn will dispose of the troublesome Captain Jannholm, and you’ll be back on Syrinara in less than twenty-five standard.” He pushed himself up to a standing position from where he’d been leaning against the table, and so Rast did the same, even as his gut clenched with dread. Pushing it could cause trouble, but he knew he couldn’t let it go. He had to know what the admiral intended for Lira.

  He tried to make his tone as deliberately casual as he could as he asked, “So what are you going to do with her? Eliminate her?”

  Sen Trannick studied him for a few seconds. Apparently he saw nothing but mild curiosity in Rast’s expression, because he said, “That would have been the wisest thing to do, but Eridanis are squeamish. So Master Senn is having her sent back to Iradia in the ship she stole so that both can be returned to the man who owns them. Sensible enough, I suppose. But enough of that. Let us go.”

  And Rast could do nothing but follow him as they left the conference room, the soldiers who had stood guard all this time falling in behind.

  Lira. On the way to Iradia.

  To Gared Tomas.

  He could not let that happen. Would not.

  Exactly how, he had no idea. But it would have to happen soon, or Lira would be left in the hands of one of the galaxy’s worst crime lords, a man not disposed to look kindly on the theft of his ship or the murders of two of his most trusted lackeys. True, Lira hadn’t been the one who pulled the trigger, but somehow Rast doubted the man would concern himself with such niceties, not when given such a golden opportunity for revenge.

  Fists knotted at his sides, Rast stayed the proper two paces behind sen Trannick, although he wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his hands around the man’s neck, choke the black life from him. But that would accomplish nothing, save being shot in the back by the guards accompanying them. No, he would have to come up with a plan to get away from the admiral, get himself to Iradia. How, he had no idea, as he guessed that his superior officer would keep a close eye on him until they were safely bound for Syrinara.

  At least Eridani was a travel hub, one where he stood a good chance of finding a ship bound for Iradia. Doubtful that any such a ship would be as fast as the Mistral/Chinook, but he’d have to hope that Tomas would want to gloat over Lira for a while, that he wouldn’t simply kill her out of hand.

  A sleek unmarked transport was waiting for them, and Rast waited for the admiral to get inside, then climbed in himself. A mech piloted this ’car as well, and took them away from the moving sidewalks in front of Daos Senn’s headquarters and toward the outskirts of the gleaming city. As Rast had thought, they were going directly to the admiral’s personal shuttle. No chance to get away after all; it was clear that sen Trannick was not going to let his formerly mutinous officer out of his sight. Ra
st also realized that he had nothing with him but the civilian clothing on his back, and frowned, brushing his knees over the pants of the dark brown suit he wore. Everything he had was probably already gone, spirited away with Lira in the Sirocco.

  Apparently guessing the most minor reason for Rast’s disquiet, sen Trannick said, “No worries on that front, Captain. We’ll have a proper uniform on your back in no time.”

  “My thanks, Excellency,” Rast murmured. What else could he say?

  The admiral seemed satisfied with that, and went on to speak of the increased production of ships’ drives once the new supply of millenite began flowing to the shipyards at Ro’herr. Rast listened with only half an ear, tension increasing along every limb as the ’car stopped at the entrance to the landing pad and they both got out, accompanied by the same four guards. The shuttle was already powering up; obviously word had been sent on ahead.

  Two guards walked in front of them, and two followed as the admiral and Rast made their way up the walkway and into the sleek little ship, designed expressly for the purpose of ferrying people to and from the larger Stacian cruiser currently in orbit around the planet. Rast wondered a little at sen Trannick making himself so visible, but then realized the Eridanis welcomed everyone, made it clear that all sentient races were free to come and go as they pleased. No doubt the admiral had designed matters so that it would seem as if his ship had stopped here only to give its officers shore leave while on their way elsewhere. Such things were common enough.

  The shuttle lifted from the pad and sailed smoothly up through Eridani’s blue skies, so similar to Gaia’s, and yet subtly different, as if their blue was slightly touched with violet, rather than the faint greenish shade he’d noticed while at the Thorn homestead. As the planet fell away below them, Rast saw the hammerhead shape of the admiral’s flagship grow outside the shuttle’s windows, until it blotted out the blackness of space, swallowed the much smaller vessel. Then they were inside the hangar bay, surrounded by the complement of fighter craft that all cruisers carried with them.