by Joan Jett
One more thing occurred to me as well.
I handed the datapad back to Sha'ira. "I believe I wish to liquidate a portion of these holdings, and dedicate them to the recovery and rebuilding effort on Eden Prime. Shall we say one-quarter of the total? An anonymous donation, if that can be arranged."
Sha’ira sat in utter silence and stillness for a long moment. Then she bowed her head, dropping into an archaic, very formal asari dialect. "Praise to the Goddess, fount of compassion and wisdom. I hardly dared to hope. She did such terrible things. I feared that you had fallen into error with her."
I responded in the same dialect. "The evils she committed were not in accordance with her own volition. A dark and evil daimon laid his hand upon her. Had she been left to her own volition, Eden Prime would never have occurred, but such was not her fate. She would have wanted to see peace and eudaimonia restored to those who were harmed."
"I concur. Liara, if you will trust me to represent your interests, I will see to it that your wishes are obeyed. It will take time before you can take full ownership of the estate."
"I understand. My mother's crimes will complicate matters."
She nodded and rose to her feet. "I do not believe that will be an obstacle in the long run. Benezia was judged a traitor, but your actions helped to uncover her treason, and you were among those who brought it to an end. I do not believe the Armali courts will find any basis on which to deny your inheritance. If need be, I will have a word with Councilor Tevos."
"Thank you, Sha'ira." I stood as well.
"In the meantime, I have a personal gift for you." She produced a small item from within her gown and handed it to me.
I examined it: a smooth cylinder, small enough to fit comfortably in my palm, made of a metallic material I could not identify. I turned it over in my fingers and saw a fine inscription along one side of the cylinder, so small that I had to bring it close to my eye to make it out.
I felt a chill. Prothean script. Late Third Age, possibly even Fourth Age.
"What is this?" I asked at last.
"I have no idea. I have never discovered its use or purpose. It has been in my lineage for a very long time, but now I sense it may be time to pass it along."
I glanced at her, startled. When an asari refers to a "very long" period of time, one is well advised to take her seriously.
She gave me an elegantly knowing smile. "I thought that might attract your attention. Legends in my lineage suggest that this item may have been an heirloom of ours for four thousand years or longer. Yes, long before we asari attained spaceflight. Unfortunately, I cannot provide you with conclusive proof."
A Prothean artifact on Thessia before interstellar flight.
The implications staggered me. An investigation might be enormously profitable . . . but it would have to wait. It reflected the gravity of the situation that I could place such an investigation no higher than fourth on my priority list.
"Thank you again," I said sincerely. "You have been a very good friend to me."
She stepped forward and embraced me: almost a motherly embrace, an elder asari bestowing simple affection upon a younger, with no sexual implications. "Be well, Liara, and take care of that human of yours. He is more important than you know."
"He is not my human," I said frostily.
"Liara. Remember to whom you are speaking," she said, amused. "Trust your daimon to lead you. Humans and asari are quite compatible in many ways: spiritually, intellectually, physically. I need not tell you that Commander Shepard is an exemplary human. He is worthy of you, and I think your spirit is already in his keeping."
I sighed. "I suppose you are correct. This is all so new to me."
"Give it time. But not too much time."
* * *
That evening I returned to the Normandy. Shepard met me at the door of the medical bay, as I was on my way to my compartment. "Good evening, Liara. What did you do all day?"
"I did some shopping, had a fine meal, and met with an old friend of my family. Nothing of great consequence."
He smiled, took my hand and raised it to his lips. "I'm glad you're back."
"So am I." I remembered Sha'ira, summoned up my courage, and gave him a flirtatious smile.
Chapter 17 : First Date
26 March 2183, Citadel
I soon discovered that being an heiress is not all delight. A great deal of paperwork occurs.
I arose the next day hoping to catch up on professional reading. Instead I found several megabytes of documents waiting in my inbox, all of it from Sha’ira by way of her attorney: investment portfolios, financial projections, a preliminary filing in the Armali surrogate court, requests for approval of a number of routine actions, a draft plan for an Eden Prime reconstruction trust, on and on with no end in sight. I had to review all of it, and sign dozens of documents for the attorney.
I sighed, seeing it as an omen for the future, and grimly set myself to working through the pile.
Four hundred years of practice have rendered me much more skilled in such matters. At the time of Benezia’s death I was nearly helpless. That first day nearly drove me out of my mind with tedium.
Fortunately I did understand a little about law and finance. Benezia had not permitted me to remain entirely innocent of such things. Yet I had never before had to deal with them personally, or on such a large scale. As the day dragged onward, I found myself calling up references and short self-study courses from the extranet, just so I could understand the implications of what I was reading. I started building flowcharts and decision trees. I made long lists of questions to ask Sha’ira or her attorney.
I went out to breakfast in the crew mess, taking one datapad with me. At lunch I sat down for a sandwich and a glass of fruit juice, with three datapads and frequent references to my omni-tool. As the dinner hour approached, I sat at my desk with my notebook computer open, my omni-tool active, and every datapad in my lab space in use. My head felt as if small creatures were trapped inside and using a mining drill to escape.
When my omni-tool gave the “incoming message” chime, I almost moaned in relief.
“Liara?”
“Shepard. What can I do for you?”
His image smiled up at me. “Nothing. I’m done with meetings for the day. Some of us had an idea to spend a little shore leave time at this new club that’s opened in the Wards. Dinner and drinks, maybe a little gambling. You know, relax for a change. I thought you might like to come.”
“That sounds wonderful. Give me some time to clean up and I will join you.”
“Great. We’re in Tayseri Ward. The club is called Flux. Nice place. I think you’ll like it.”
Once Shepard disconnected, I began to shut down computers and datapads. Then a thought struck me, and I smiled to myself.
The shimmer-silk evening dress had survived being packed away in a valise for over two weeks. It still draped properly along my body and legs. It matched the arm-length gloves, the kitten-heeled sandals with straps running up each leg, and the silver choker with amethysts. A moment’s work with scent, and I was armed and ready to be considered dangerous.
Heads turned when I emerged from the cab outside of Flux. I smiled inwardly and felt very asari.
I paid the cover charge for the club, stepped inside, and immediately felt at ease. It was nothing like Chora’s Den. The lighting was pleasant rather than lurid, the music was lighter and more cheerful, and the servers were clearly not on the menu. I looked around for some of my friends.
I soon found Kaidan, Garrus, and Tali, all sitting at a table next to a window with a magnificent view of the Citadel. Garrus first spotted my approach, leaning back in his chair with a glass of turian brandy in one hand. His turian face could make little expression, but I detected a sudden sharpness of gaze as he realized who I was.
“Liara.” Kaidan stood and gave me a courtly half-bow. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”
“Thank you. It feels nice to dress stylishly for
a change. I can hardly remember the last time I had the opportunity.”
“Would you care to join us?”
I looked around. “Where is Shepard?”
“He and Ash went up on the casino floor about half an hour ago.” He must have noticed me seizing tight control of my expression, because he smiled reassuringly. “Ash was planning to lose some money at the craps table, but Shepard is more into poker. You’ll probably find him playing cards.”
“All right, I’ll go look for him.”
Garrus immediately rose. “I’ll come too, if you don’t mind. This I want to see.”
I climbed the curved staircase to the casino floor, Garrus and Tali following at a short distance.
Ashley wore civilian clothes for once, a white blouse and blue denim trousers. Her unbound hair fell in long, dark waves down her back. She drank from a bottle of the human beverage called beer, loudly enjoying some game involving dice and little circular markers. A tall, well-dressed human male stood close at her side, paying her very focused attention. Not Shepard, thank the Goddess. She caught my eye and did a double-take. Then – rather to my surprise – she gave me a smile and a cheerful wave, and returned to her game.
Sure enough, Shepard sat at another table, his back to me, wearing a fashionable civilian evening jacket and trousers, deeply engrossed in his game. I stole up silently behind him, not wanting to disturb the play.
At the time I didn’t understand what I saw. Aside from Shepard, seven other players sat at the table, mostly humans but including an asari and two salarians. The salarian dealer had two cards before him, face-up, as well as a large, unruly pile of the circular markers in several colors. Shepard and one other player, a female human sitting three places to his right, each had two cards face-down. None of the other players had any cards. All the players had stacks of markers in front of them, although Shepard and the female human each had smaller stacks that had been pushed some distance toward the center of the table. The players carefully avoided looking at their cards, at the dealer’s cards, or at each other. Indeed everyone sat completely motionless, except for the female human, who compulsively rolled some of the markers in her fingers. It looked like a very dull game.
The female human glanced at Shepard, who still gazed at nothing in particular, his face set in a bland smile. Then she shook her head, put the markers in her hand back in her stack, and tossed her cards into the center of the table.
Suddenly everyone moved at once, smiling or frowning, making comments to one another, reaching for drinks. The dealer gathered all the cards and pushed all the markers over to Shepard, who began to assimilate them into his main stacks.
I reached out and rested a hand on the back of his neck. “I take it that was good?”
Startled, he glanced up at me, and then stared for a long moment.
Behind me I heard Garrus. “Scratch one.”
“Right between the eyes,” agreed Tali.
I smiled down at Shepard. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
“Liara! Of course . . . I . . . hello. You look absolutely stunning.”
“I should. It took a great deal of effort and planning.”
“Are you in for the next hand, sir?” inquired the dealer, a small smile on his face.
“No, I don’t think I am.” Shepard picked up some of his markers and set them in front of the dealer. “Thank you for an enjoyable game.”
“Thank you, sir.”
We waited as Shepard gathered the rest of his markers. Then we followed him over to a kiosk where an attendant counted them and credited him with his winnings.
“Good luck this evening?” asked Garrus.
“I would say so,” said Shepard. “Poker is all about self-discipline and patience. Some nights you don’t get much of a chance to stack up the chips, but I had a few very good hands tonight.”
He pocketed his credit chit and offered me an arm. I tucked my hand under it and walked close at his side as we made our way back down to the main floor of the club.
He is willing to display his interest in me to his friends,I thought, and felt warm at the realization. This begins to be a real thing, not just a playful idea, this between us.
I glanced up at his face: smiling, confident, uncaring who might be watching. Goddess, how can anyone be so ugly and so beautiful at the same time?
“Ash!” he called as we passed the craps table. “Come join us for dinner?”
Ashley looked up and shouted back. “Nah, go ahead, Commander. I’m on a roll here.”
“Suit yourself,” Shepard replied, and waved as he passed.
“Ash seems much less upset at the sight of us together than I would have expected,” I observed.
He lowered his voice, so that no one else could hear as we walked. “I had a talk with her, after that stunt she pulled in the workout room. Made it clear that she’s a hell of a soldier and I’m proud to have her under my command, even to call her a friend, but that’s as far as it’s ever going to go. And that if she ever did anything that unprofessional again, she would be busted back to CPO and off the Normandy before she had time to breathe.”
“How did she react?”
“She didn’t like it at first, but she’s too good a Marine to do anything but salute and aye-aye. Once she had a chance to think about it, she saw things a little differently. She even apologized for her behavior. I don’t think you’ll ever be her friend, but she may have worked through some of the issues she had with you.”
“I’m glad. I admire Ash. I never wanted to be her adversary.” I looked up at him again. “Although I find that some things are worth fighting for.”
The four of us rejoined Kaidan at his table and settled in for a very pleasant meal. Flux had a superb kitchen, well able to handle even such exotica as quarian food. Shepard and I shared a Thessian seafood dish that the waitress agreed would be suitable for humans. Kaidan and Garrus had steaks of Earth and Palaveni origin, respectively. Tali had . . . something I couldn’t identify.
As our dinner proceeded I noticed that something kept distracting Garrus, leading him to glance past us to something near the dance floor and the casino. By the time we reached our dessert course and a final glass of wine, my curiosity got the better of me.
“What has your attention back there, Garrus?” I asked. “Is there a particularly attractive female turian on the dance floor?”
“Hardly. Turians don’t go in for dancing. The closest thing we have ends with jumping on the back of a prey animal and breaking its neck.”
“I’m sorry I asked. Then what is it?”
“Have you noticed how many keepers have been going up to the casino this evening?”
Tali shook her head in disgust. “Ach, don’t remind me about the keepers. I’ve spent the last two days tracking down and scanning keepers for that salarian scientist who asked for our help. If I never see another keeper again it will be too soon.”
“Sorry, Tali. But when I was with C-Sec we noticed that the keepers tended to avoid places like this: lounges, clubs, gambling halls. We could never figure out why. Now I’ve counted three of them going up there just while we’ve been having our dinner.”
“It could be random chance,” I suggested. “We know so little about the keepers, or why they do what they do.”
“Or something could be wrong.” Garrus rose from his place. “I’m going to go check it out.”
“You have noticed that we’re not on duty, right?” complained Kaidan.
Shepard rose from his place, using his credit chit to pay for our meal. “Garrus is right. It may be nothing, but we should at least look.”
Kaidan shook his head, but he rose and came with the rest of us.
We found a keeper moving slowly through the ranks of quasar machines, approaching the back of the casino hall.
The keeper appeared like any of its kind: a vaguely insectoid creature with a small spherical body, four long stilt-like legs, and a cluster of sense organs and manipulating limbs
at the front. One saw them everywhere on the Citadel, performing repairs and maintenance on station systems. They never communicated with anyone. No one could even be sure whether or not they were sentient beings. When we asari found the Citadel the keepers already inhabited the station, busy and inscrutable, and in over two thousand years no one had discovered anything about them. The Citadel’s people tolerated them, and for the most part ignored them.
This keeper seemed somehow confused. It moved slowly, swiveling its sense cluster back and forth, and stopped every few steps. Its manipulators opened and closed aimlessly.
Tali opened her omni-tool and began to taste the surroundings for dark energy and electromagnetic radiation of all kinds. “There’s something here,” she said, and began to lead us between the rows of gambling devices. Kaidan frowned, opened his own omni-tool, and followed her.
Eventually Tali led us to a single quasar machine, out of the way and apparently little used. “This one. It’s transmitting some kind of intermittent signal, on a very unusual band. Heavily encrypted.”
“Can you break the encryption?” asked Shepard.
“I don’t think so. I don’t know the algorithm and the keys appear to be very long. It would need planetary-scale computational power even to make a dent in it. Either that or a quantum computer running an advanced AI operating system.”
“But what is it transmitting?” I asked.
“I have an idea.” Shepard went up to a nearby quasar machine, inserted his credit chit, placed a bet, and quickly played through a game. The machine chirped, sang, and flashed lights.
“Figures he would win again,” muttered Garrus.
“There!” Tali tapped at her omni-tool. “Another burst transmission, just as that other machine paid the Commander his winnings.”
