Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  The server smiled broadly, and then left her to her meal. It took a few minutes of careful observation before Celina saw her chance and palmed the note. A subsequent trip to the restroom provided her with the privacy that she needed to read it.

  “The Sisterhood has lied to you and your countrywomen about everything,” it said. “Use the pass card behind the toilet and enter the empty suite next door after 8 P.M. The truth will be waiting for you in the main bedroom.”

  Celina’s pulse raced as she crumpled the note up and hid it in her blouse. She briefly considered telling her security detail about the message, but changed her mind. While it might have been the safest course of action to take, and certainly what the Embassy women would have wanted, it wasn’t the right thing to do. Something was going on here. Something dark and terrible, and she was finally in a position to discover what it was.

  That was assuming that she was willing to take the risk. She had never considered herself to be a terribly adventurous person, and she knew that she had no business getting herself involved. But the image of the prisoners lined up in front of the wall, and the anti-Sisterhood slogan, cried out to her.

  She had no doubt that the rendezvous would reveal painful truths, but it was still the truth, and she had always dealt honestly with her audience. Every composition that she had ever created for them had been from the heart, and they all knew this. They trusted her, and as an artist and as a woman, she felt that she had a duty to uphold that faith. To shun her responsibility now, and in so doing, to help to conceal an injustice, was unthinkable.

  Pretending to linger over her dessert, she spoke to Clio by psiever on their private channel.

  Clio, I think I’ve just been contacted by some kind of rebels—rebels fighting against the Sisterhood here in Nuvo Bolivar! They may be the same people who bombed the Embassy.

  Clio was instantly alarmed. Oh no! Celi, you have to report this right away and get us out of here. That sounds very dangerous.

  No, Clio, Celina countered. I’m not going to report it, and neither are you! The rebels have promised to tell me what’s really going on here, and I have to find out what it is.

  Celi. You can’t go, Clio insisted. It could be a trap. They could be trying to kidnap you—or worse! One of my protocols is to protect you. I won’t allow it.

  Celina remained firm. Clio, I have to go. Something terrible is going on here—bad enough for people to use bombs to get their point across. And the government doesn’t want anyone back home to know about it. You’ve seen how they’ve been with us.

  Celi, NO!

  I’ll take you with me, Celina promised. It’s just next door, and if anything happens, you can call the securitywomen for help. Please, I have to do this. It’s my duty as an artist!

  Clio mulled this over. A full second later, she responded. Fine, Celi. But if anything happens I will activate my defensive package—AND call security!

  Celina was taken aback. She had been fully aware of Clio’s obligation to protect her, but she had never realized that the AI possessed any kind of armament to back it up with. She was almost tempted to ask her about this, but hesitated. Her virtual friend was too flustered to risk agitating her any further.

  She did however, make a mental note to inquire with Clio’s manufacturer; she wanted to know if the AI was simply referring to some sort of stun-field, or something as over the top as a full-on fission weapon. That kind of information was somewhat important, especially if there was ever a chance of her using it.

  All right, I agree, she told her. You’ll come with me, and if there’s trouble, you can step in. Does that work for you?

  I still don’t like this, Celi, Clio grumbled. But, yes. It works.

  ***

  “I want to be the one,” Reesy exclaimed. Her host, the woman named Roza, who functioned as Migehl Alvaraada’s second in command, stopped what she was doing, and regarded her appraisingly. Roza had come home early from the sandwich shop, and had changed out of her usual work clothes into what looked to Reesy like something more appropriate for a high-end restaurant or a catered party.

  “The one to—what?” Roza asked. She was in the process of finishing with her bow-tie.

  “To speak to Celina,” Reesy replied. “I know that she’s here. I saw it on the holo. I know that we’re going to try and contact her.”

  “Why would we do that?” Roza inquired innocently. The knot was tied, and she was giving herself one last inspection in the mirror.

  “Because it’s the only way,” Reesy said. “It’s the only way to get the Sisterhood off our backs. Their women—the average ones like you and me—they won’t stand for what’s going on here if they find out about it. Celina could tell them.”

  “And you think that you could convince her?” Roza countered doubtfully. “You think that you could get her—a famous artist—to risk jail just for us? You really think that?”

  “You do,” Reesy challenged. “That’s why you’re getting dressed up, isn’t it? You’re going to try and see her. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “I have a job to do,” Roza answered curtly. “It’s none of your business.”

  “It is my business,” Reesy snapped. “If you’re going to go and try and see her then I should be there! I could tell her all about the School, about why we are fighting the Sisterhood. Everything. I know I could make her see things our way. I could make her want to help us!”

  Roza chuckled as she patted her hair into place. “More likely she’ll see you for what you are—a silly little girl. She needs to hear from someone who knows our movement.”

  “Then you are going to see her!” Reesy accused. “I knew it! You have to take me! I have to be the one!”

  “Your face is known to the Sisterhood putayas,” Roza replied. “You’d be caught in a second. Forget it.”

  “No!” Reesy cried. “You know I’m right! I’m the one. She’ll listen to me.”

  “All right. I’ll promise you this. I will speak with Migehl,” Roza told her. “That’s as much as I can do. His word will be final. You must accept that.”

  “I will,” Reesy agreed. “He’ll see things my way. Call him.”

  Reesy was correct. When Migehl Alvaraada heard Reesy’s proposal, he had to concede her point. While Roza was certainly the more experienced operative, Reesy’s raw passion, her commitment to the movement, and her personal experiences at the School, could not be discounted. Of all the people that he could think of who could convince Celina to throw in her lot with their cause, Reesy really was the best candidate. The only obstacle was that she was a wanted fugitive.

  This was not insurmountable though. Although Celina had a full protective detail, and the hotel itself was being watched by Embassy security and the local police, he knew that no one would expect someone like her to walk right into such a trap. In the end, and despite Roza’s strong reservations, Alvaraada agreed to the substitution. Reesy would become the emissary for the Loyalistas and for everyone else who had suffered under the boot heels of their oppressors.

  ***

  Obtaining a uniform for Reesy only required Alvaraada to place another call to the same people who had supplied them with their own costumes and the catering truck. Once Roza had helped the girl to dress herself properly, they met Migehl and drove together to the Àuro Agwuila. Their cover had been provided for them by one of the hotel’s wealthier patrons, who was also a secret Loyalista sympathizer. Despite the bombing, the elderly woman had insisted on going ahead with her catered party and the hotel staff had been forced to agree.

  When Reesy and her companions arrived, they saw that the hotel was just as heavily guarded as they had expected, but only one policeman was on duty at the service entrance to the kitchens. Although Reesy had been given a false identity card, it proved to be completely unnecessary. The policeman was another friend of the movement, and he gave them only the most cursory of inspections before allowing them through.

  Once inside, the kitchen staff were too b
usy to notice them, and they were quickly waved over to a corner to unpack and prepare their food. The meal itself had been created by Alvaraada, and Reesy was impressed with the results; it was as fine as anything that she had ever seen.

  As soon as they were ready with their carts, they rolled them into an elevator that was used to transport the hotel staff, and took it up. When they reached the third floor, Roza pulled the stop and handed Reesy a pass card.

  “You’re getting out here,” she told her. “We are one floor beneath Celina’s. When you get out of this car, turn left, and go down the hall to the door leading to the emergency stairs. Use them to go up to the very top, and let yourself onto the roof. This card will get you up there. Wait on the roof for five minutes.”

  “What about Celina?” Reesy asked.

  “Celina and her staff will be coming out from the floor below you, and going all the way to the ground floor,” Roza answered. “Once they have gone, go down to the VIP level and use this card again to let yourself in. The floor should be unoccupied.”

  “Won’t they see me on the cameras?” Reesy wondered.

  “No,” Roza promised her. “We have another friend working in security. He’ll forget what he saw. Now, listen closely; when you get onto the VIP floor, go left and then down two doors. Go inside that room, lock it behind you and wait in the bedroom. Celina knows to meet you there at eight o’clock.”

  Next, she reached into the cart and produced a large envelope.

  “When you see her, give this to her, and make sure that she sees everything in it. If she has any questions, answer them. You know what you can and can’t talk about.’

  “When you are done speaking with her, go through into the next room and wait there. We’ll create another diversion, and as soon as this happens, leave the same way you came in. This time, go all the way down the stairs to the truck court and follow the alley to the street. Call us when you find a public Com and can’t see the hotel any longer. We’ll come for you. Do you understand all this?”

  Reesy shook her head nervously and took the items, stuffing the envelope up and under her vest. Now that she was actually part of this operation, she wasn’t as certain of herself as she had been back at the safe house.

  “If you think you are about to be caught,” Migehl added gravely, “use this.” In his hand was a small plastic vial with a single pill inside. “Don’t allow yourself to be captured. You don’t want to know what will happen if they get their hands on you.” Reesy took it from him with trembling fingers.

  Alvaraada’s expression suddenly softened and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’ll do all right.” Then he restarted the elevator and turned to Roza. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Roza consulted her wrist chrono. After a few seconds, she pulled out her hand-com and made a call. “Hello,” she said. “There is a bomb in the Hotel Àuro Agwuila. Death to the Sisterhood Invaders!” She cut the connection immediately.

  “’Death to the Sisterhood Invaders’?” Migehl frowned. “Couldn’t you come up with anything better than that? It’s not very original.”

  “It’s the first thing that came to my mind,” Roza replied defensively. “Leave me alone!” The three of them shared a much needed laugh over this, and then the elevator door opened onto Reesy’s floor.

  “Go with God, Reesy,” Alvaraada said. An alarm was already going off in the corridor and bewildered patrons were beginning to come out of their rooms.

  ***

  Too nervous to even think of working on her realie, Celina resorted to watching her copy of “Casablanca” instead. She had always meant to get to it, but until now, her work had kept her occupied. As good as the remake was however, her attention kept going to the clock function of her psiever to check the time.

  The minutes dragged by. Just when she was becoming certain that she couldn’t take any more of the tension, one of her security women burst into the room.

  Celina squeeked in alarm. “What is it?” she asked, amazed that she hadn’t launched herself straight up into the ceiling. “What’s going on now?!”

  “A bomb threat, ma’am,” the woman replied. “Someone called and said there was one here at the hotel, but it’s probably a hoax. After every real incident, the klaxxy’s always try to stir things up with false alarms.”

  “Oh,” Celina said, feeling her heart rate starting to slow down again. “That’s good.” She began to turn away, intent on resuming her clock watching. The security woman didn’t leave however.

  “Ma’am,” the woman insisted. “We still have to evacuate. Until the Police tell us the building is clear.”

  “Seriously?!” Celina exclaimed. “I thought that you just said—“

  “I did, but we have to play it safe.” the securitywoman told her. “If you’ll come with me, please?”

  “Well, if I’d known that all it took was a bomb threat to get myself out of here, I would’ve called one in myself,” Celina remarked acerbically.

  Her protector made no comment, and led her out into the hall where the rest of her detail was waiting. They escorted her to a set of stairs and down into the lobby.

  A limousine was waiting there and as soon as she was aboard, it drove them away from the hotel. Two blocks later, it joined a small group of Police vehicles, and parked. Ever mindful of her comfort, one of her women brought her a cup of tea.

  She was just finishing it when her escort announced that the hotel had finally been declared safe. By the time she was back in her room, there were only ten minutes left before her secret meeting was scheduled to occur.

  Celina made a great show of yawning. “Well, after all that excitement, I ‘m dead tired,” she announced. “I think I’m going to kick off my shoes and watch a bit more of my holo before I turn in. May I have some privacy, please?”

  The securitywoman who had been posted to the living area shifted uncomfortably. “Ma’am, my orders are to stay with you at all times. There’s always the chance that we’ll get another alert.”

  “Can’t you just go out into the hall with your friends?” Celina asked her. “There’s no one in here except me, and I really do need the privacy. I promise, I’ll stay right here, and when I’m done, it’s straight off to bed—which is right in the next room—with no side trips. You can even check underneath it and make sure it’s safe.”

  The woman fidgeted, but she had no real cause to refuse her. Except for Celina herself and the security detail, the entire floor was unoccupied and all the access points were under surveillance, or guarded. As an added measure, one of her other protectors had already checked her rooms before she had been readmitted.

  “No, ma’am, I don’t think that will be necessary,” the securitywoman agreed. “I’ll leave you to your evening. Bian sarà, Jantildam.”

  Celina gave her a polite smile, and then began to remove her shoes.

  The very instant that the woman was gone, all pretense of fatigue disappeared and her shoes were back on her feet. She made for the bathroom immediately.

  Like the rest of the fixtures there, the toilet was an antique. It was one of the old fashioned kind that still used water to move waste, and it required a tank to supply that water in huge, wasteful quantities. Celina wasn’t in the mood to worry over such inefficiency however; she was actually glad for the prehistoric thing. The tank offered a great hiding place for something as small as a passkey.

  It took a minute of fumbling for her to find it. Whoever had hidden the key had made certain to conceal it on the back face, and well away from the outside edges, and had she not known that it was there, she seriously doubted that she, or anyone else, would have ever discovered it. Peeling off the tape, she went back with it into the living area and grabbed up her handbag. This contained her Realicorder and the portable module that housed Clio.

  Then she crossed over to the service door that led to the neighboring suite. Hands shaking, she swiped the pass key and unlocked it.

  It was now 8 PM local time a
nd the adjoining suite was dark, but the added factor of something waiting for her, and possibly even someone, made it seem all the more sinister and mysterious. She paused at the threshold briefly reconsidering what she was about to do.

  Damn it, I’m no spy, she thought. What the fek am I doing?

  There was no going back though. She had made her intentions clear to Clio, created a deception with security, found the key, and now, had opened the door to goddess-knew-what-kind-of-adventure. If she balked at this stage, Celina knew that she would always wonder what had been next door, waiting for her, and what she might have learned. That was a question that she didn’t want to carry with her into her old age.

  She took a steadying breath and stepped in, closing the door softly behind her.

  No wild-eyed terrorists, or any other kind of danger sprung out at her as she crossed the living area though. In fact, as she stopped and listened, she came to the conclusion that the suite was completely deserted. She sent a thought to Clio.

  Clio? Are you still there? It was a silly question; Clio was always with her, but she felt better for asking it.

  Yes, Celi. I still think this is a very bad idea. Let’s go back right now before we get into serious trouble.

  No, Celina retorted. We see this through to the end. She was surprised at her own determination. Ignoring her misgivings, she crossed the short space to the master bedroom, and opened the door.

  She had half-expected to encounter some rough-looking character, and the young woman seated on the bed was anything but. The girl was dressed in a formal server’s outfit and on the petite side, with sandy blond hair and green eyes. Her delicate hands were folded nonthreateningly on her lap, and next to her, was a large envelope.

  “I’m sorry,” Reesy said. “Please don’t be afraid of me. When they told me that they were going to meet with you, I asked them to let me be the one.” Her thick accent immediately identified her as a native of the ETR.

  Clio interrupted with a psiever message. Celi, I have my defensive package online and ready to engage! If this bitch tries anything—anything at all—I swear she won’t live long enough to regret it.