Maxaria nodded. “One of the few with the courage to stick his nose in the air. I know they tried to put the squeeze on him, because he came in with a shiner one day. He must have had friends in high places here, because I heard the next night that some of the Gramoor heavy men had been rounded up and taken dirtside. It wouldn’t stop them, not forever. They know how to arrange their way out of trouble.”
“It stopped them long enough to let him finish his business.”
“Seems like,” Maxaria agreed. “He came in to buy a last round, he said. Then he warned me. Then he left. Then, if they’re right, he blew up that section of the station. Like I said, he did everyone a favor. The government will rebuild the station, new business will set up and we all get a station clear of the scumbags.”
Catherine got to her feet, then stood there until her balance was steady. “Powerful stuff,” she muttered.
“You asked for the best,” Maxaria reminded her.
Catherine pulled a few more notes off her stash and handed them over. “Thank you, Maxaria. You tell good stories.”
Maxaria tilted her head. “That’s what he said, too.”
“Because it’s the truth,” she said carefully. She picked up her sack and slung it over her shoulder and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget to mention my bar to your friends,” Maxaria called.
“I will recommend it,” Catherine said and meant it.
“Good luck finding him, honey,” Maxaria added.
Startled, Catherine looked at her.
Maxaria gave another shrug. “Told you the feeds were useful for something.”
Chapter Ten
Gate Station, Shanta System. FY 10.092
Brant had grown far more accustomed to easing information out of strangers after two decades in Catherine’s company. Sometimes, monetary encouragement was needed. Often, though, all that was required was basic psychology. Bring the subject around to talking about themselves and it all came tumbling out.
He spent three of the four hours wandering through the bazaar and talking to the stall owners. Because this was Shanta and technological devices were their primary export, the bazaar mostly featured stalls of gadgets and tools, all with the premium Shanta stamp. Brant had become more and more comfortable with computers and technology over the years, but such a concentration of non-human thinking machines made him mildly uncomfortable.
He finally made his way to a food market and sat at a table next to a group of three red-skinned Shanta natives wearing the tags and IDs of station personnel. If the locals ate here, it would be good food. He consulted with the AI, that recommended a small meal of Shanta cuisine with an unpronounceable name and offered a discount, too. He accepted and sat back to wait for the food to arrive, listening openly to the discussion at the next table.
They were talking about the extra shifts they were all having to put up with at the moment thanks to the repair work on the damaged section. Overtime and danger bonuses were disparaged and general grousing about station management was the filler.
It was an opening Brant could use. “Did any of your friends get hurt when the section blew up?” he asked loudly, drawing their attention.
They all looked at him. The most outspoken of the three replied. “No one I know, no thanks to that crazy sentient bastard.”
Brant’s blood chilled. “The rogue computer?” he said, keeping an enquiring, pleasant expression on his face.
Loud Mouth nodded. “That’s the one. I hope they find him and break him up into tiny pieces and throw the crystals in acid.”
Brant forbore to point out that Bedivere lived in a human body. The level of ignorance about the Varkan and Bedivere in particular had been high all across the known worlds even before all this had happened. No one was in the mood, now, to learn the truth about him.
“Does anyone know why he did it?” Brant asked.
“Because he’s crazy,” Loud Mouth shot back. “No other reason. He just circled his ship around and opened fire. No warning. No nothing.”
“No alerts went out when he circled around?”
Loud Mouth frowned. “Does it matter? He destroyed the damn station.”
“And why do you care?” one of the others demanded.
Brant retreated. “No reason. Just curious. Enjoy your meal.”
He ate thoughtfully and quickly, then hurried to the docking bay doors where they had agreed to meet again. Lilly was already there, her bag looking heavier than when they had parted.
Brant’s heart gave the little flutter it always did when he saw her again after an absence and he squeezed her fingers, aware of their public location and that they were only slightly less well known than Catherine and Bedivere these days. So far he had not been recognized by anyone.
Lilly pushed her fingers through the heavy mane of dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. It was glowing and curling in a wild tangle that made him want run his fingers through it just as she was. “It’s awful,” she said, her voice low. “Everyone thinks Bedivere is quite mad. They all know he did it, even though there isn’t any direct evidence. They were just told by someone that he did, someone in a position to know, most times.”
“Shanta authorities,” Brant concluded.
“He really was here, though,” Lilly added. “Everyone knows what he looks like. The woman who did my hair saw him on the concourse more than once. She said he was creepy.”
“Creepy how?”
“He talked to everyone,” Lilly said. She rolled her eyes. “I know,” she added. “That doesn’t make sense to me either. That’s what she said, though. He talked to people.”
“Crazy sentient bastard,” Brant muttered. “He should be locked away, talking to people that way.”
Lilly started. “What did you say?”
“Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood.”
“No, the bastard bit.”
“Crazy sentient bastard?”
“That’s odd. That’s exactly what the hair stylist said, too. Those exact words.”
Brant stared at her. “That’s what Loud Mouth said…” He looked around, feeling exposed. As if they were being secretly observed. “Let’s find a day room somewhere. I don’t like waiting here in the open.”
Then his heart didn’t just flutter, it squeezed, as if a hand was around it and trying to crush it. Brant staggered and pressed the heel of his hand against his chest. Copper-tasting spit filled his mouth.
“Fareed?” Lilly said. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he managed to mutter. He fought to stay on his feet and waited for the pain to return.
Lilly slid her hand under his arm, then the other. “Over here,” she said. “There’s a bench. Three steps. That’s all.”
He wasn’t sure how he made the steps. He found she was guiding him down onto the bench. It was out of the direct overhead light and that was a relief, too. He pressed his hands on his knees and hung over them, breathing hard.
The pressure in his chest eased. His fear turned into a watery relief. He kept his head down, trying to breathe through it. It would be impossible to reach a meditative state right now, although he could use the same techniques to find calmness.
“Here,” Lilly said quietly. She picked up his wrist and a cup was pressed against his palm. “Thank you so much,” she said, speaking to someone else.
“There’s a therapy outlet, in the next quarter,” he heard the someone say. It was a woman.
“No, no intervention,” he gasped. He made himself drink from the cup. It took huge effort to lift it to his lips. The liquid was cool. It wasn’t water. It was something with a subtle flavor that reminded him of fruit. Even sipping took effort.
He leaned his shoulders against the concourse wall behind him. The gentle curve of the wall felt comfortable and the chill of metal was pleasant against his back and his neck.
Finally, he was able to take notice of his surroundings.
The docking bay doors were across
from them and on this side of the concourse there were mini stalls and displays, spilling out from the open market just down to their left. There were no galactic franchises here. Instead, the entire station seemed to be home to small and micro businesses.
He made himself look at Lilly. She sat with her hands gripped together. There were tears in her eyes.
“I’m fine,” he said.
She shook her head and her tears spilled. “No, you’re not. That’s the third time this has happened. It’s so easily treatable, Fareed. Why—”
“No,” he said shortly, cutting her off. “We’ve talked about this. It’s not something I can countenance.”
“You’re already using Catherine’s therapies to extend…why not this?”
He sighed. “I take the therapy because I’m selfish, love of my heart. I’m going to be seventy-three in two standard months. I don’t look much older than I did when I met you, yet I was already middle-aged then. Things wear out. I only look as though I’m fifty. My body knows the truth.”
“Then change your body,” she said, her voice hoarse. Her tears weren’t stopping. If anything, she was crying harder and that made it so much worse. “You’ve travelled this far away from what you thought you believed. What would that one last step matter?”
“You only get one body,” he reminded her.
“Because the therapies work on me!” she cried. People nearby turned their heads, their attention caught by her protest.
Fareed took her hand in his. Her flesh was cold. “This is the way it has always been, Lilly. One body. One life.”
“You would leave me, you would let yourself die, just because someone wrote in a stupid book thousands of years ago that this is the way it’s supposed to be?” She had lowered her voice, but her tone was intense. She wasn’t going to let this go. Not this time.
Brant let his head rest back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was very tired. “You live your life by the words in that book, too,” he reminded her. “We all do, whether we believe it or not. Human community has been shaped by the precepts all along. I am just abiding by the very last of them…the one most humans cannot face.”
“Do you really believe your death will do anything to purify the race?” she demanded. He could hear the anger growing in her voice. “You’re just one man.”
“Is this why you sit across the table from the College on the negotiations?” he asked. “Is this your way of changing the known worlds?”
“The College made you believe this. They have to be stopped.”
Brant stroked the back of her hand. Despite her anger she had not tried to remove it from his grasp. “You can’t change the course of human history any more than I can,” he said gently.
“I can try,” she shot back. “Look at what Catherine and Bedivere have done. Look at the changes they are making. There are only two of them and they’re making a difference. If they can, so can I.”
“And if they can and you can,” he said, “then perhaps I can with my single body.”
“Your death will only matter to those of us who love you. Why would you do that to us?”
He drew in a deep breath. It was easier to breathe now. “I’ve tried to explain this—” he began.
Lilly shook her head. “No. I won’t have it.”
“Lilly.”
“No!” She thumped her spare fist on her knee. “How do you know the purity you’re trying to preserve is even pure?”
He blinked. “The bible—”
“Is pure rubbish,” Lilly finished.
“Lilly!”
She looked completely unrepentant. Defiantly so. “I got the same biblical lessons you did. The Bible of Isaura is only just over two thousand years old. And it wasn’t even written by Isaura. It’s a copy of a copy of something someone said, that was supposed to be a rendering of her original records. Even the bible itself was lost during the Interregnum. So we’re not sure if what’s in it now is even close to what Isaura wrote! So we don’t know if the way we are now is anything like what humans were in ancient times. The information is lost. You could let yourself die for the sake of transhumans who don’t give a damn.”
Fareed stared at her, shock making his jaw hang loosely. He had heard all this before. It had been part of their training as Ammonites to test their faith and emerge stronger. Debates of this sort had been common. He had also heard it from every detractor of the Faithful and in the jeering taunts of unbelievers. Yes, he had heard it many times before.
Just never from Lilly.
He found his voice. “You killed yourself when you thought the College had implanted technology in you.” His words sounded weak.
“And I still think it’s wrong. The very idea makes me feel ill,” she shot back. “That’s because that’s what I was taught. It’s conditioning, Fareed. Nothing less. The College had an agenda. It was paving the way for the Federation to maintain its space faring monopoly. And that’s why the College must change. If they must change, so must I.” She let out a heavy breath and studied him. Her anger had faded. “I question everything now. So should you.”
Brant didn’t know what to say.
“Just tell me you will think about it,” she added, her voice back to softness.
He swallowed. “I’ll try,” he said. It was the best he could do, because he didn’t want to lie to her.
“Hey, Lilly. Brant.”
They looked up as Kemp threaded his way through pedestrians to where they were sitting. Kemp dumped his sack at his feet and put his hands on his hips. “This place makes absolutely no sense,” he declared. “I can’t figure out what happened at all.” Then he looked at Brant closely. “Are you okay? You’re nova white.”
Brant sat up. Then, very slowly, he got to his feet. Lilly hovered, not willing to physically help him in front of Kemp unless he asked directly. “Bad food, I think. I’ll be fine.”
Kemp accepted that without a quiver. “I’m starving,” he declared. “Where did you eat? I’ll head in the other direction.”
“There’s a restaurant, about two hundred meters that way,” Lilly said, pointing. It was away from the café he had used. “Think you can make it that far?” she asked Brant.
“Come on, old man,” Kemp said. He wrapped his arm around his waist and almost lifted him off his feet. “Let’s get some better food in you.”
Brant wanted to protest at being called an old man. He also badly wanted to use his own feet, especially in front of Lilly. Only, he couldn’t dispute the fact that he was old…and that Kemp’s supporting arm was the reason he could walk at all.
Chapter Eleven
Gate Station, Shanta System. FY 10.092
When Catherine saw Brant’s condition, she told Kemp to buy a meal and bring it to the day room she rented. She paid top tier prices and got a suite with two bedrooms and tank-enhanced terminals and told Brant to go and sleep.
Then she sent Lilly out with a list of natural ingredients she could put together with basic equipment, that would provide him some relief.
With everyone out of the way, she contacted Connell. He stepped into the room through an invisible door and held out his hands. “I heard what happened. Is it as bad as they’re saying? Or is it like Barros?”
“Closer to Barros,” Catherine told him. “Although, there’s something odd going on here. Connell, who do you know that is located here on Shanterry? Anyone?”
“You mean, Varkan?” He gave her a coy look. “Bedivere didn’t encourage us to reveal our locations to anyone.”
“And I know that after Jo died, you talked with the others and found out exactly where everyone was so that what happened to Jo couldn’t happen again,” she replied.
Connell looked startled. Then he kicked at the ground with his boot. “A file with that information…that would be an incredibly valuable file. It would expose every Varkan.”
“I don’t want it,” Catherine told him. “I hope you have it buried under so many layers of encryption no one wil
l ever suspect it even exists. I just need to talk to a Varkan here in Shanta if there is one. I can’t make sense of the information I’ve uncovered here. A local sentient with access to the world datacore here could help me sift through it.”
“I could hack Shanta’s datacore, if that’s what you need,” Connell said dismissively.
“This is Shanterry,” Catherine reminded him. “They were a technologically advanced world even before they joined the Federation. They will have absorbed any Federation technology and improved upon it by now. I don’t doubt you could get in, Connell. It would take time, though. I don’t have time to spare.”
Connell considered that. “I have a friend….”
Catherine relaxed. “Please invite your friend here to talk.”
“I will be right back.” Connell stepped out through the invisible door again.
Catherine caught up with messages and alerts while she waited. There were not many. She didn’t hand out her private communications codes to many people and she rarely checked the public codes. She left it up to the house AI to sift through all the advertising and forward to her any messages that she needed to see.
A tapping on a door told her Connell had returned. “Come in!” she told him and settled herself in the big armchair next to the desk. The chair shifted, shaping itself to her curled up posture.
The invisible door opened once more and she saw Connell through the opening as he stepped back. “After you,” he said.
A woman moved through the door and looked around. She had Shanterrian red features that were so pale, her flesh seemed merely pink. Her hair and eyes were brown and her chin sharp. She was very beautiful, as were all the Varkan. Her gaze settled on Catherine. “Catherine Shahrazad.” There was recognition in the melodic voice.
“Connell did not say who you would be speaking with?”
“Not outside a sealed channel, I wouldn’t,” Connell said. He waved his hand to indicate the virtual room the two Varkan stood in. “This is a secure location. We can speak freely.”
“Not too freely,” Catherine warned him. “This is a rented terminal and I’m not nearly as good as Bedivere at sniffing out sleeper bugs.”
Varken Rise Page 11
