Mira had warmed to Bethany. The older female reminded her of Cass Mulravey. Bethany seemed well studied, though, where hard experience had been Cass’s educator.
Bethany frowned as she watched Lasper Farr and the young scholar disappear together. ‘What is my brother doing?’
‘He wished to speak with Thales alone. He seems a courteous man,’ Mira said cautiously.
Bethany gave her a keen look. That penetrating gaze was the single resemblance that she and Lasper Farr appeared to share, though Mira imagined there were other, deeper things.
‘You know who he is, don’t you? Who it is you are bargaining with?’ asked Bethany.
‘I understand that he led the Consilience force in the Stain Wars. Now he is the owner of a very lucrative business. I would suppose he is an entrepreneur and a very clever one.’
Bethany trembled at that. ‘He is much more than an opportunist, Baronessa. He is most single-minded and he allows nothing to interfere with his ambitions. No one. Not even family.’
‘And what are his ambitions, Beth?’ asked Josef Rasterovich.
‘Impossible, ridiculous things.’ Bethany looked away, into the heart of the Fest. ‘Those things make him so dangerous.’
Mira thought that Farr seemed sane and reasonable, yet his sister’s words hinted at fanaticism—imbalance, even. What did that mean, she wondered, if a sister disparaged her brother so openly? Was Bethany motivated by jealousy? Or did she have good cause to speak that way? Faja and she had never been jealous of one another. But then Faja had been more of a mother than a sister, and Mira missed that love with every step she took, every turn of her head.
But it is still there. It will always be there. Both ways.
Bethany looked back at Mira. ‘Please, can you tell me more about Araldis? I am sick with worry for my child.’
With that question the diversions that the Fest had provided vanished, and Mira felt all her tensions return. What could she say to this woman? That the place was burning? That her daughter was probably dead like the bambinos she had buried on the plains?
‘Baronessa? Are you unwell?’ Bethany touched Mira’s arm, concerned.
Mira realised that she had doubled over and pressed her hands to her stomach as if in pain. She straightened and forced composure onto her face. ‘I am a little nauseous. Resonance shift has left me with some after-affects.’
Bethany made a hand signal to Josef Rasterovich. ‘How inconsiderate of us... shall we find somewhere to eat and sit?’
Mira nodded gratefully. ‘Si.’
* * *
Josef found them a kafekart on one corner of the dais and while he purchased drinks Mira talked with Bethany. ‘You said your daughter was part Miolaquan. Where did she reside?’ she asked.
Bethany flushed. ‘I’m not sure. It’s not a story I’m proud of...’
Mira listened intently as Beth told her how she had sent her child to the planet alone. With each detail, dread and excitement fought each other to create a nervous mix in Mira’s stomach. ‘Her name—you called her Jess before—was it Djeserit?’
Bethany grabbed Mira’s hands. ‘Yes. Yes. Do you know her?’
‘Does she have certain Mio characteristics? The webbed fingers—’ Mira prised her own from the older woman’s grip.
‘Yes, and gills, here and here.’ Bethany touched her own neck. ‘And beautiful. She is young and beautiful. Please, please tell me that she is alive.’
‘I c-cannot be sure now, but she was with the survivors when I left. She saved me when I was in deep shock. She is determined.’ But vulnerable. Mira told Beth then of Faja and the Villa Fedor—as much as she could bear to recount, at least.
Josef Rasterovich had rejoined them with two frothed mokkas and a small tumbler filled with a burned liquid: Oort whisky or an Edo brandy. He sat and sipped, picking up the threads of the conversation.
‘Jess,’ whispered Bethany brokenly when Mira had finished. ‘Oh, my Jess. How could I have left you alone?’
Mira thought of Vito and the korm. ‘Choice does not always provide right and wrong.’
‘You couldn’t have known the shit that was gonna happen on Araldis, Beth,’ said Rasterovich. ‘And if she’s anything like you she’ll be surviving just fine.’
But Bethany was too submerged in her guilt to heed them. ‘So she is with the young Principe?’
Mira forced herself to find some comforting words. ‘St. The young Principe is .. . clever. He will outwit the Saqr.’
She would never tell Bethany the rest of it—how Trinder Pellegrini was a treacherous, selfish man who had seduced her Jess.
But Josef Rasterovich was watching Mira intently, as if he guessed there Was more.
‘Has your discovery of the Entity given you unpleasant choices, Mr Rasterovich?’ she asked him by way of distraction.
The quick change in focus caused the man to swallow most of his drink in one gulp. He coughed to clear his throat. ‘Yeah. Well, uh, I guess so.’
Josef’s laconic reply puzzled Mira. One moment he appeared perceptive, the next almost dim-witted.
‘When Araldis is—when my world is restored to my clan, I would like to visit Belle-Monde. Is that possible?’ she asked.
‘That depends, Baronessa.’ His voice was husky from the alcohol and the coughing. ‘You can’t go sightseeing, if that’s what you mean. Nor would you want to. Place is overrun with arrogant pricks—smarts and scientists.’
Mira ignored his bald description in the same way that she ignored Rast’s rough talk. ‘I wish to be tested by the Entity.’
‘To become a... a tyro?’ Josef stammered. His eyes widened, and surprise dropped some of the lines from his face.
She saw then that he could be perceived as handsome by some. Not in the pure, aesthetic way of Thales the scholar, but his face displayed a damaged kind of strength, an unkempt confidence.
‘For what damn reason would you want that?’
And Mira knew then, before she spoke, what it was that Marchella had wanted of her. ‘I must unbind our women, Mr Rasterovich.’
‘You don’t need the Entity for that—you just need a revolution.’
‘There are things about us—our culture—that you don’t understand.’ She heard the formality slipping from her voice and no longer cared. ‘I need to be greater... better than I am... to bring them that change. Impotence is cruel. I will not let it hold me.’
‘You’re telling me that you want to save your culture, and then you want to change it?’ Josef slapped his thighs and laughed. ‘Well, there’s a god complex if I’ve ever heard one.’
Mira felt the twist of bitter anger; a man such as this could never comprehend oppression. She wanted to walk away from him and never see his face again.
‘Baronessa?’ It was Thales Berniere, pale and shaking, standing beside her.
‘Msr Berniere? Please...’ She indicated the spare seat.
He sank into it automatically, rubbing his arm in a distracted manner.
Mira leaned towards him. ‘You are distressed,’ she said softly.
The scholar looked then as if he might weep, and her heart constricted. Concern for him vanquished her anger at the God-Discoverer.
‘I-I am tired and somewhat dislocated, that is all,’ Thales said. But his young face had a grim set to it which stole the soft curve from his lips and the glow from his skin. Something had shaken him badly.
Mira wanted to press him further but the Lamin was back with three soldiers. ‘Excuse me, Baronessa, but Commander Farr requires you all to return to his marquee.’
Thales reddened and stood. ‘I am not interested in meetings. I will return to the ship.’
The Lamin made no attempt to stop him and Mira watched him disappear into the crowd. What had happened between him and Lasper Farr?
* * *
Inside the marquee Farr was pouring amber wine into long bulb-ended glasses. ‘Sit, please,’ he instructed.
Mira perched on the edge of one of the ar
mchairs while Josef Rasterovich lounged across an entire couch.
Bethany chose to lean against a high-backed lacquered stool.
Farr appeared almost convivial as he handed them each a glass.
Josef Rasterovich drank with one prolonged swallow and held the empty glass toward Farr.
The Commander ignored him, sipping his own drink delicately. ‘I have had time to consider your situations. Baronessa Fedor, I may be prepared to assist in the reinstating of the Cipriano Clan on your world. And, Bethany, in doing that I could put some resources into finding Jess.’
Bethany sagged against the stool with relief but Mira kept her back straight, apprehensive of Farr’s motives. What does he want in return?
‘In order for me to do that, I would need something from you,’ Farr went on.
‘Lasper?’ demanded Bethany in a shrill voice.
‘I want you to accompany your biozoon to Rho Junction in the Saiph system, where Thales Berniere will collect something for me. You will then return here. When this is done, I will undertake to restore control to the rightful owners of Araldis.’
‘Saiph is part of Extropy space,’ said Rasterovich. He’d let his empty glass fall to the floor and was eyeing it angrily, as if he might crush it underfoot.
His demeanour was not lost on Lasper Farr. ‘But Rho Junction is not. That is where you come into it, Mr Rasterovich. Your reputation as God-Discoverer can gain you entrance and acceptance anywhere. I’m sure The Alliance of Free Thinkers on Rho Junction would be entranced by your God stories. I’ve heard they are entertaining.’
Rasterovich frowned. ‘Why would I want to do that? Too many damn Extros around Rho Junction for my liking. The Entity shoves a whole fist up their basic belief system. Don’t you think they might want to do the same to me for finding it?’
‘Not before they have examined you from the inside out,’ said Farr, smiling. ‘Which would give Msr Berniere plenty of time to complete his errand.’
Rasterovich clenched his fists. Mira saw him struggling to control his anger; to appear as calm as Farr. ‘And which of your pet delusions tells you I’d be stupid enough to make that kind of sacrifice?’
‘But Mr Rasterovich, the Baronessa needs your help.’
Josef seemed winded by that.
‘But this will take too long, Lasper. Jess’s life is at stake while you bargain,’ protested Bethany.
‘Jess’s life is at stake because you abandoned her for your lover. No other reason. As for what you call my “bargaining”—it is what will ensure the safety of our futures,’ said Farr. ‘I can’t pull together a force of this nature without some planning and preparation. Araldis is an OLOSS world. This will have to be managed with subtlety.’
Josef Rasterovich cleared his throat. ‘I ain’t convinced, Farr. And even if I was I sure ain’t available to act in your version of the future.’ He got up off the couch and walked towards the marquee’s entrance.
Farr flicked a glance at the soldiers and they stepped directly in front of Rasterovich.
‘Even if I can tell you the whereabouts of Tekton the archiTect and bestow a ship upon you?’ asked Farr. ‘Bethany tells me you are in need of one.’
Josef turned and walked back to the couch, grasping its back edge. ‘I know where to find Tekton. He is on Belle-Monde. And yes, I need a ship, but only if I can cut through the strings that come with it.’
‘Tekton was on Belle-Monde,’ corrected Farr. ‘You followed him to Dowl some time ago and due to your imprudence wound up in the detention facility with my foolish sister. Tekton returned to the study station, but has since moved on.’
‘Big deal! I can find him myself,’ Rasterovich said coolly.
Mira’s heart fluttered. She could not help but admire Josef’s stubbornness in the face of Farr’s threats and bribes.
‘Can you? Your ship has been stolen. On board was your entire resource network. You have access to money but information takes time to acquire. Even if you locate Tekton then you may well pass him in transit. I foresee many possible frustrations for you. However, if you assist the Baronessa and Berniere with this errand then I can provide you with resources to find Tekton, and my blessings.’
‘Your blessings?’ Rasterovich gave a strident laugh that was almost a shout.
Mira held her breath, unsure what he would do next.
But Lasper Farr had settled back in his chair. ‘No need for dramatics, God-Discoverer. My proposal is an arrangement for mutual benefit. Simple—and elegant...’
JO-JO RASTEROVICH
Jo-Jo wanted to murder Carnage Farr right then; strangle the hero of the Stain Wars until his tongue protruded and his eyelids fell still in death.
From the moment Jo-Jo’s feet had touched this rotating scrap heap he’d felt uneasy. Now, staring across at Farr, he knew that he’d give a testicle to be back on Jandowae station.
Right now he wanted to stuff his fist so far down Farr’s throat that he could squeeze the man’s balls with his fingers.
Even more compelling, though, was his desire to agree to Farr’s demands. Not because of Carnage’s promise to find Tekton, or because he was frightened of the lunatic, but because Mira Fedor needed protection.
How fucking ridiculous! He’d met her only a few hours ago.
The intensity of his emotion sent Jo-Jo’s mind sliding apart like two pieces of slippery sliced fruit. Not sure what else to do, he listened to the discussion that started up between his inner voices.
The loudmouth of the two had a plan: Pretend to go along with Farr’s wishes and then bail out at the first res station. Catch a ride to Belle-Monde and track down Tekton. It’s the logical course to take and the safest. Carnage Farr is insane and best avoided—
No! cried the other voice. You will never see her again.
Jo-Jo’s mouth opened and words came out. ‘Prove that you can help me locate Tekton and you’ve got a deal.’
Lasper Farr drained his drink and leaned forward. ‘I’m not in the habit of proving myself to anyone, Mr Rasterovich. But for the sake of expediency I will make an exception.’ He took a small tubal inhaler from his pocket. ‘Breathe deeply.’
Jo-Jo took the object and clipped the tube to the skin that separated his nostrils. He squeezed one end and the inhaler discharged its contents into his nose.
His transition into a virtual space was sharp: instantaneous, in fact. Farr was in the same chair but the marquee had disappeared, leaving a darkened space. Jo-Jo’s viewpoint had also altered. He was alongside Farr instead of opposite him.
A sprinkle of lights began to grow in the darkness around them: a beautiful intricate patterning of colours that pulsed and flickered and wound around each other as if connected by an infinite number of lines.
As Jo-Jo studied the delicate knots and loops he noticed tiny colourful explosions occurring among them: miniature supernovas. Some became subsumed by what was already there; others thinned and extruded into new webs.
‘A small window will open in the corner of your vision. It will isolate one of the tiny eruptions you can see. Concentrate on it for a few seconds.’
Jo-Jo did as Farr instructed. He felt himself drawn forward towards the eruption which grew in magnitude until the brightness became a pure white brilliance that blinded him. His eyes burned and mucus trickled down onto his upper lip. He wanted to wipe it but he didn’t dare move.
The whiteness suddenly resolved into shapes that he recognised. A ship’s bridge.
Salacious?
Jo-Jo knew his ship immediately—but not the ‘esque with the cold blank stare who lounged on the captain’s platform. Then it faded. More images followed in a sequence that made no sense to him: a water-planet panorama, small aqua-creatures, one of the same creatures being dissected, and, finally, night combat in a jungle. Three shadowy figures crawling on their bellies—a balol and two humanesques—leaving mines for their enemy to trip. There was something familiar about them all...
‘Closer.’ He spoke the wor
d without thinking.
The virtual progression threw him forward again.
Suddenly he was lying on the jungle floor, his fingers deep in slimy moss, his foot tangled in vines. The air was so damp that he could barely breathe. An insect crawled between his shoulder blades, biting him.
The figures on either side of him were panting hard, glancing back over their shoulders. Their way forward was lit by the dim glow-bands across their foreheads, illuminating thick tree roots underpinned by leaf-rotted soil.
He turned one way. Saw a male face streaked in ‘flage and filth.
‘Randall? How many left? the male asked.
Jo-Jo turned the other way.
‘Three fully charged.’ This face was female. Rast Randall.
‘I’ll save one for us, Capo,’ Rast added grimly.
Jo-Jo turned back.
The male ‘esque gave a cold stare that froze Jo-Jo. ‘Save it for yourself Rast,’ he said. I ain’t dyin’ out here for no ginks.’
Randall laughed. ‘Don’t tell her that.’ She jerked her head.
Jo-Jo twisted, looking around again. WhoP There. Behind them. A balol soldier. A female.
Ilke? From Dowl.
There was a small popping noise in front of them.
‘Shit! Grenade!’ barked Rast. She rolled frantically towards a gully. The man scrambled to his knees and flung himself behind a tree.
Jo-Jo’s heart pounded. He didn’t know which way to move. Too slow! I’m too slow—
‘End.’
Farr’s sharp command brought Jo-Jo back to his chair. The light web had vanished. Only Farr and he occupied the darkness.
Jo-Jo tried to quieten his heartbeat while he sorted realities. The balol was like, the one he’d been dallying with when Salacious had called about intruders. What was like doing in an adventure sim with Rast Randall? And the male—who was he?
‘No. Not a simulation, Mr Rasterovich. Random recordings. What you have just witnessed is my own personal soothsayer. I procure records of events and my Organic analyses them, looking for patterns.’
The Sentients of Orion Page 53
