by Holly Lisle
“Then, and please don’t take this the wrong way, Kagen, but...” Anja slid her hands into the pockets of the coverall she was wearing, and narrowed her eyes to study him. “Why are you killing yourself on this project? You’ve lost weight, you look like hell, the dark circles under your eyes are starting to look like someone punched you.”
“It’s simple. It’s about getting the truth out. Suzee Delight took an aptitude test when she was a child, and that aptitude test said she should be a whore. She turned out to be a very talented whore—but she didn’t choose to be a whore. Some little functionary in her school or her dorm or however they did it where she comes from chose that future for her. She couldn’t quit, she couldn’t protest, she couldn’t walk away to do something else.”
“But that’s true for every person in the Pact Worlds who isn’t Order A. It’s true for nearly every person who lives in the Furies—it’s what we all escaped from. Everyone knows it’s the truth.”
“YES!” he said. “That’s exactly it, but no one has questioned it. Only now, the famous Suzee Delight has murdered five of the most important Order A men in Settled Space, and she says what she did was required by her training. Right now, people are questioning her training, they’re questioning how no one ever considered her a danger to those five powerful men—and they’re questioning how she managed to become the most famous courtesan in Settled Space.
“People out in Settled Space are listening now, so while they’re listening, I’m putting the stories of every Fury I can get my hands on in front of those listeners. People who escaped from worlds where someone else chose their lives for them, people who are now something entirely different than the things they were forced to be back home. I’m connecting each of these people to Suzee Delight, and they’re telling me how they’re like her—and why she needs to live, like they needed to live, and what they had to do to get away.
“I don’t know if Suzee Delight killed those men because they deserved it, or because she lost her mind, or for any of a million other reasons, but I know this: She is not the person who put herself in that room with them. She is the one person who was in that room who had no choice about being there.
“So that’s what I’m focusing on in the interviews—and that’s what I’m getting from the people I’m talking to. None of them chose to be where they were before they were sentenced to death, or before they escaped. They support Suzee Delight because they know where she came from, and the rules she lived under. She got away. They got away.
“And somewhere out there, someone in the Pact Worlds is looking at the stories that are coming from here, and thinking, I can live my life if I get away from this place, too—if I can just get through the people blocking me.
“At the same time, some functionary or official or administrator out there is thinking, I’m the person standing in the way of the next Suzee Delight, or Mettor Helmyn, or Berramyn Chase, and the minute that person realizes I’m the obstacle, I’m dead. And I’ll never see it coming. And his next thought will eventually become, I need to get away from here and get my hands off of other people’s lives before somebody kills me.
“Every story I can get out there is one more voice from here talking to one more person out there who didn’t take the other stories to heart because they weren’t like his story. Or her story. But this story is. Anja, right now Settled Space is listening. But I don’t know how long it’ll keep listening. And I don’t know, if I lose this opportunity, if it’ll ever listen again. And this matters. So I can’t rest. I can’t slow down. I’d give up food and sleep entirely if I could.”
Hands in her pockets, Anja stood staring at her feet, swaying a bit from side to side. Kagen watched her, waiting while she worked out whatever was going through her mind.
“Right,” she said after a moment. “I’m taking you on full-time at full pay starting tomorrow morning. I’m getting you a crew of nine more people, because that’s all the studio space I have, and I’m plastering the city with, “Fight for Suzee Delight” signs that send people here to tell their stories. There are going to be lines out this building from now until Suzee Delight’s story comes to whichever end it comes to, and you and the people you and I train tomorrow are going to interview as many of them as you can before we run out of time. Meanwhile, I’ll ask the people to whom this matters to pitch in for studio and datastreaming costs, and I’ll eat the rest of whatever this costs, because what you’ve turned this into matters to me, too. It matters to all of us.
“When it’s over, we will have done what we could do—you and me and the Furies—and one way or the other, our lives will move on. We will not come to our own ends knowing once, long ago, we could have mattered but we chose not to. Thank you, Kagen, for seeing a way the Furies could fight after all.”
Melie
MELIE ENTERED THE OWNER’S QUARTERS for the first time, and took the seat at the small table that Shay indicated. Shay sat opposite her and said, “Mado Keyr regrets that he cannot meet with you personally, but he will monitor the conversation while you and I discuss your future with the Longview. I will convey his gratitude and his wishes regarding your reward for the service you have provided him.”
Melie nodded. Her mouth was dry and her heart raced. She had stepped into the den of the lion, and it was a frightening place. The entire room, including the table and four chairs that were its only contents, were black. Everything gleamed. She could not locate the source of light, but it was muted and indirect. One oversized door punctuated each of the room’s walls; all four arched like identical gaping mouths, glossy black with keyed ident locks. She realized that if she stood and walked around the table, she could easily lose her direction and not know which door she’d used to enter.
She looked at Shay. “How do you know which door is which?”
Shay smiled. “That’s a secret I cannot share with you. And it isn’t what we’re here to discuss.” She settled into the chair to Melie’s right. “If you could ask for anything from the owner, what would you request? Think about it before answering.”
Melie didn’t even have to consider this. “I’d want to be reinstated into my position as One Green.”
Shay laughed. “You do understand that you have done a service for the mado that is worth billions of rucets to him. Reinstating you to your former position would cost him nothing.”
“I’m not interested in costing him money. I want to captain my own ship someday. To do that, I need my TFN pilot’s license, and I can only get that by earning it. You know how I came to be here. Outside of the Longview, I will never have the opportunity to earn that license, or the money to buy my own ship.”
“Would you request anything else?”
“The only other thing I would request, the mado cannot offer.”
“Which would be...?”
“To get my family out of Sunray City and off of Targa.”
Shay raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. She studied Melie, an expression on her face that Melie couldn’t identify. “We didn’t get you off of Targa.”
“I stowed away in the hold of an outbound freighter, got dumped on the nearest needle when I got caught, and managed to hang on there until you arrived and took me on as a passenger.”
“You’ve heard from your family? You know they’re still in Sunray City?”
Melie shook her head. “I don’t dare contact them. My leaving the planet was a crime, but their being in contact with someone who left the planet would be a bigger crime. I’m sure my family reported me missing as soon as I left. If they tried to hide what I’d done, they’d be...” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You know what happens. So they reported me. But they—we—were all Order D. So nothing will have gotten better for them, though it certainly may have gotten worse.”
Shay was staring through Melie, seemingly frozen. Melie realized she was listening to the owner. After a moment Shay said, “Yes, mado,” and then focused her attention back on Melie. “You’ll give me the names
of your family members and their last known addresses, and the mado will contact allies who will remove them to safety for you. They will be set up on a free world with full identification, housing, and work. And when this is done, you will be given leave to go visit them.”
Melie blinked back tears and swallowed hard until the lump in her throat let go enough that she could speak. “Please thank him for me,” she said.
Another pause. Then Shay said, “He says you thanked him when you discovered and reported those messages. He also conveys to you the following: You will not be raised to Class One until your year has passed, unless the captain, first mate, or One Gold leaves the Longview. However, you will receive payment as if you were one One Gold, and as long as you have completed both the One Gold and First Mate certifications by the time your year is up, you will be jumped over the current One Green into the One Gold position.”
“He’s going to jump-promote me over the crew in one of those positions?”
“No,” Shay said. “But the offers coming in for one of his top three people have reached astronomical levels, and both Mado Keyr and I are nearly certain that a position is going to open up in One Gold soon.”
“I’ll be ready,” Melie said.
“I know.” Shay stood and smiled. “You always have been.”
CHAPTER 5
Captain Shore
THE DINNER WOULD BE INTERESTING, Captain Dermet Shore decided. In the three months since Captain Willet stepped down and he took the helm, everything about the job had proven interesting. From the moment he signed his final nondisclosure agreement and opened the sealed papers that explained to him the objective of the Longview, the universe had come to look entirely different to him. He could not imagine that he would ever again have a job that would be so dangerous, so challenging, or so worthwhile—and yet, the only people with whom he could even speak about what he did were Werix Keyr and Shay.
And mostly he could only speak to Shay, who for reasons he could not explain made his skin crawl just a bit.
But in just a few minutes, he would be entertaining Werix and an unknown number of spies, and he would get to see how the owner dealt with them.
Interesting. Possibly dangerous.
His first mate, Laure, would be armed. He would be armed. And Werix, who suffered from a degenerative condition not even Medix sessions could overcome, would be tucked inside his moleibond flexsuit, impervious to anything that might go wrong.
Over the com, Laure said, “I have arrived with our guests, Captain. Are you prepared for them?”
He said, “Bring them in.”
Room 2 held five occupants, and all five berths had been filled when the messages went out.
The five filed in, and Laure introduced them. “Captain Shore, meet Celdica, Peret, Ersero, Jorje Ness, and Deesa. Celdica and Peret were in the PHTF-112 needle when we took them on. Ersero was a toss from Clewmass. Jorje Ness tried to stow away in our shuttle when we were down on PHTF-28, and because we had a berth, we brought him with us as a ride-along in the shuttle. Finally, a crew member who remains anonymous to the other four smuggled out Deesa in his carry-on when leaving Caynute Pleasure. Deesa was a C-8 consort. You’ve had full reports on her—we ran the most recent records worm at twenty-thirty-five Standard, and her backtrail remains clean, though activity on Caynute Pleasure continues as her employers attempt to locate her.”
Dermet nodded at each, and pointed them to their seats. “Welcome,” he said. “I am Captain Dermet Shore, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to my table as my guest. Joining us will be the owner of the Longview, Mado Werix Keyr, who has asked to share a dinner with you before you move on to your destinations. Whenever he can, he joins a small group of his passengers for dinner: he likes to meet them and hear their stories.”
This was a pure lie—as best he could tell from studying previous captains’ logs, the owner had never before met with escapees. Werix would occasionally request a dinner at the Captain’s table if one or two of the paid passengers were especially interesting—when Dermet had been first mate, Willet had told him about getting to meet the dissident holomaker Falstaff Shottley, who he said had been the most interesting man Willet had ever met. Dermet had not yet entertained a celebrity.
He was doing something different.
He was entertaining a spy.
And he wondered what role he would play in the owner’s plan to uncover the identity of the one who had betrayed his generosity in providing rescue, room, and board.
“Before the owner arrives,” Dermet said, “I will go over protocol with you.
“The owner has a condition that requires special consideration. When he arrives, the lights will be lowered. I will introduce each of you to him. You will not touch him, though he may touch you. You will not speak to him unless spoken to. You will not raise your voice when speaking to him or to each other—his hearing is incredibly sensitive.
“He must wear a special suit at all times in order to survive—his condition is not treatable by Medix. Please do not stare at him.”
His guests nodded. While they had been cheerful and excited on entering Dermet’s quarters, they became increasingly subdued as he laid out the restrictions on their actions.
The shipcom said, “Mado Keyr requests permission to enter.”
“Permission granted,” Dermet said.
The room lights dimmed as his door slid open. Werix passed from the corridor into Dermet’s entertainment room. As soon as the door closed behind him, the corridor lights would brighten again. Dermet found it strange to contemplate the owner’s life, always surrounded by a ring of darkness that followed him everywhere.
And yet, in spite of the difficulties he faced, Werix had managed to accomplish things no one else ever had.
The captain stood as Mado Werix Keyr walked in, and each of the guests followed his lead.
Werix went from guest to guest, studied each for a moment, introduced himself, and before he stepped away, touched the arm or shoulder of each. “I hope you are enjoying your stay,” he said each time before moving on to the next.
When he took his seat, Laure—acting as waiter—brought covered plates and presented them, first to Werix, then to Dermet, and then to each guest in turn.
As they ate, Werix entertained them with a story of his visit, when he was a young man, to the vast city of Meileone. “I went to Oldcity,” he told them, “though I did it against the advice of my guide. And my guide proved himself a fool. Oldcity was the only place I ever visited that had the perfect amount of light for me, and it was endlessly graceful, lit by man-made stars, and filled with gentle breezes and night gardens. It was lovely—but far too crowded. Still, if ever a cure is found for the illness that devours me, it’s the place I would love to call home.”
He looked at his guests, and said, “Deesa, you’re from Meileone. Did you ever visit Oldcity?”
“Frequently,” she said, and then froze. “I didn’t... I’ve never... I’m not from Meileone.”
“But of course you are. You were there as recently as a week ago. Tell us all about your trip.”
Her eyes opened wide. Her whole body had gone rigid. “I... met... with...”
She acted as if she were fighting herself—as if her mouth were moving against her will.
“My dear Deesa, if you keep that up, you’ll hurt yourself. Simply tell us. I’m sure it was a fascinating trip.”
The muscles of her jaw bulged, and sweat broke out on her forehead—and then she slumped.
“I met with representatives from the Pact Worlds who have set up a consortium that is bidding against you through Bone King.”
“Of course they are,” he said thoughtfully. “Rage of Angels dropped out when it couldn’t go over seven billion. But Bone King kept bidding, always managing to stay close to my bid, going over often enough to avoid the three-sub-bid disqualification...”
Dermet felt a chill run down his spine. In the dim lighting he could not see Mado Keyr well, but he cou
ld feel the man’s rage as clearly as if sheets of electricity had wrapped themselves around him. No one else spoke. No one else moved.
“Someone found a way to track the movements of my money into and out of my bidding account. It wasn’t you, was it, Deesa?”
“No.”
“But you know who it is, Deesa.”
“... Yes...”
“And who is helping you, Deesa?”
Veins stood out in her neck, her muscles locked tight, and the sweat beaded on her forehead ran down her nose.
Dermet’s body locked in sympathetic struggle—he wanted to answer for her, would have if he could have, but of course he didn’t know whatever she knew.
“You want to tell me the truth, Deesa,” the owner said softly. “You know you do.”
The little crunch that followed sounded like an explosion in the dead silence.
Deesa’s eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed. She began to twitch, bloody foam poured from her mouth and nose, and her limp body toppled sideways from her armless seat. She thudded to the floor.
The instant she hit the floor, Dermet’s muscles unlocked. Without needing to think, he was out of his seat, his hand hitting the button on the wall that brought the Medix out of its hidden panel.
He lifted Deesa, dumped her into the unit core, and set emergency auto-repair before anyone else had done more than gasp.
Werix murmured, “She thought she had a plan for everything, didn’t she? Silly girl. Well done, Captain. Your skills and reflexes do you tremendous credit. Unless I’m mistaken, that was a tatuka nanovirus she had embedded in one of her teeth. She might not yet survive—but if she does, it will be because of you.”
Dermet said, “I’m... glad I could help.”
Werix tipped his head toward the ceiling, “Charlie? Did you witness all of that?”
