by Timothy Zahn
McMicking and I were back in the torchcruiser and starting to lift off when the fire began raining onto the ice and the hidden coral below.
TWENTY-FIVE:
Bayta was waiting for me when I arrived at our agreed-upon Terra Station restaurant. “Well?” she asked anxiously as I sat down across the table from her.
“It’s done,” I told her. “They hit it, did a second scan, hit it again, and did one final scan. It’s all gone.”
She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” I assured her. “So what happens now?” She gave me a wistful smile. “I fulfill my part of the bargain, of course.”
“No, I meant what happens with the rest of the Modhran mind,” I said. “The outposts and the walkers. What are you going to do about them?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “If the mind goes dormant, we can probably leave everything as it is. If not—if what’s left continues trying to grow and spread his influence—I suppose we’ll have to try to stop it.” Her lip twitched. “I mean… they’ll have to try to stop it.”
“You won’t be helping?”
“I doubt I’ll be of much use to them anymore,” she said, her gaze dropping to the table. “I’m not even sure how much will be… you know. How much of me will be left.”
“You’re very close, aren’t you?” I asked quietly. “I mean, the two of you.”
She gave a little shrug. “I don’t know how to describe it,” she said. “The goal of the Modhri was to bring all things into himself. The goal with me was to create someone composed of two separate beings who could yet genuinely act as one. It’s going to be like losing half of what I am.”
“Then why do it?” I asked. “You’ve gotten what you wanted from me. If this melding and this combined person are so important, why not just renege on your promise?”
“Because this person is only one of my friends,” she said, looking up at me again. “You’re my friend, too. And friends don’t do that to each other.”
I felt a lump forming in my throat. “You told me once I wasn’t your friend.”
She winced. “I couldn’t afford to be, then.”
“Couldn’t afford to be?”
“That’s why I couldn’t tell you everything the night before the raid,” she said tiredly. “I couldn’t let you trust me. Not completely. If I did, or if I’d allowed even a spark of friendship between us—” Her throat tightened. “That Saarix in your carrybags wasn’t for you, Frank. The Spiders hid it there because it was safer than hiding it in mine. But it wasn’t for you. It was for me.”
“I see,” I said, a creepy feeling whispering through me. That possibility had never even crossed my mind. “So you were willing to give up your life for your people.”
She nodded. “For my people, and for the rest of the galaxy.”
“And now you’re willing to do the same for me?” I persisted. “Even now that the biggest danger is gone?”
“To make amends, yes.”
“Even though you don’t think the woman is worse off than she would have been without your interference?”
“I made a promise,” she said simply.
“Suppose I released you from that promise?”
The stiffness of her expression cracked, a flicker of hope peeping through. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ve thought it through a little since then,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Like I said, you could have reneged, laughed in my face, and walked off onto the next Quadrail. But you didn’t.”
“Because you’re my friend.”
“Because you have integrity,” I corrected. I wasn’t entirely ready to accept her friendship. Not yet. “Besides, what’s left of the Modhri may not be considerate enough to simply roll over and die. If he doesn’t, we’ll need all the resources we can get to defeat him.”
“We?”
“I still have my Quadrail pass,” I reminded her. “And with Hardin still steaming, the less time I spend in the Terran Confederation, the better.” I consulted my watch. “The next Quadrail to the Bellidosh Estates-General will be hitting the platform in fifteen minutes. This morning’s news said another coral display on Bellis had been mysteriously vandalized, so I presume Fayr and his commandos are still alive and kicking. I thought I might head over there and try to reestablish contact with him.”
“Good idea,” she said, getting to her feet. “Would you—I mean—”
“Like a little companionship?” I finished for her as I stood up as well. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She paid the bill, and we headed for the platform. “There’s something I never got around to asking you,” she said as we skirted around a drudge carrying a piece of oversized luggage toward one of the other platforms. “Back on the Quadrail, McMicking said something about Mr. Hardin protecting his investments. What did he mean by that?”
“He meant me,” I told her. “Hardin had hired me for a private job. Just hired me, in fact—we’d only just finalized the details when your messenger showed up with that Quadrail ticket.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding wary. “You never said anything to Hermod about another job.”
“I thought it might have been a little awkward,” I said with a shrug. “You know these ultra-rich people—always looking for new challenges, new vistas, new business conquests. And always in dead secret, of course, lest some competitor get wind of the plan and beat them to it.”
“I suppose,” she said doubtfully. “What were you supposed to do for him?”
I smiled as I gazed down the Tube. In a universe awash in irony, this was the best one of them all. “He wanted me to find a way for him to take over the Quadrail system,” I told her. “I think that’s our train coming now.”
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