Judge

by Karen Traviss

  “Well, the bloody warning flare ruined the pilot’s fucking day, I can tell you that.” Shan was furious, but totally devoid of scent. It always struck Esganikan as devious rather than diplomatic that Shan used her ability to suppress her signaling, even if she understood her unwillingness to emit jask. “The poor bastard had to eject. He’s probably injured.”

  “He flew too close. He clipped the shield.” Esganikan couldn’t understand Shan’s reaction. A vessel of war had behaved aggressively. Did she think humans would be treated any differently from isenj? “The FEU is not your ally, nor mine.”

  “This is about using an appropriate level of force. Why the hell did you want me along for the ride if you’re not going to listen to advice from your tame monkey?”

  Esganikan didn’t fully understand the retort, either, and had more pressing things on her mind. She couldn’t seek advice from Shan about c’naatat: Shan didn’t know that Esganikan carried it, and neither did the crew—yet.

  It was an alien thing, this need to conceal facts. Wess’har didn’t lie. But something in Esganikan said that she had to.

  Shan will turn on you.

  Your crew will not, but the Skavu will despise you for it, for being an abomination, and then you won’t be able to command them.

  Esganikan heard those thoughts almost like a stranger’s voice whispering to her. This wasn’t how she would have reacted in the past. She considered c’naatat, of the way it resurrected the attitudes and memories of previous hosts, and remembered thinking she would be better able to handle human deceit through the genetic memory of Mohan Rayat, an accomplished spy and liar.

  I took on those traits. I have to be careful how I handle them. I have memories and characteristics from every host c’naatat has passed through.

  It made sense to keep it from Shan, though. The woman was so adamant that the parasite shouldn’t spread that she trusted nobody else with it.

  This is how corruption begins. One small concession at a time. One thing you feel you have to do for a good reason.

  Esganikan wondered what else c’naatat was going to change in her attitudes. Would she even know it was happening? That was what she feared. She’d been prepared for her body to alter out of all recognition, like Aras’s, but not her mind. That was much more disturbing.

  She walked down the ramp and onto the desert itself, through the defense shield that also maintained a habitable environment. Searing dry heat hit her in the face like something solid; she heard Shan puff out a breath. Ade Bennett fanned his hand in front of his face and said something about redders, which was incomprehensible, and the three of them stood looking at an undulating layer of air that warped the horizon into a hazy mass floating above the horizon.

  “Home, Boss,” said Ade. He turned to Shan and gave her a quick display of his teeth, eyes darting over her, but he smelled agitated and distinctly wess’har. They were all chimeras now, all a ragbag of species. “Hey, it still feels like…well, we did it.”

  “Don’t get too used to it,” Shan said.

  Esganikan was satisfied with the location. It was as lifeless as she expected: no other creature would be inconvenienced by their arrival, and her Skavu forces could set up camp here away from everyone else, out of temptation’s way. She didn’t trust them close to humans. They would react, she suspected, as they reacted to the isenj, and she needed a more managed approach to restoring Earth. But Deborah Garrod’s colonists would need to be removed to a more hospitable environment. This place was not for them.

  “Well, you’ve got the prime minister trekking all the way out here to welcome you,” Shan said. Aras walked past her with Aitassi, Esganikan’s ussissi aide, followed by two of the environmental engineers who stopped to begin sinking probes into the ground to locate the deep aquifers. “Look. I bet they want to congratulate us for following their landing instructions so fucking inadequately.”

  Black shapeless blobs wobbled in the heat haze, as formless as Eqbas hulls in their transition phase. The shapes resolved into a convoy of vehicles kicking up plumes of dust, and which came to a halt a hundred meters from where Esganikan stood. Shan’s skin and hair betrayed the slight gloss of the barrier gel, just like Ade’s. They were taking no chances.

  I could tell Shan. But I have enough to contend with now without starting a battle with her. I’ll have to pick my time.

  Esganikan could now see humans walking towards her, four of them, all obscured by what looked like environment suits. They came to a halt at fifty meters. She started walking towards them, and that seemed to start a panic.

  “Quarantine,” Shan said, keeping up with her. “Remember?”

  “We’re not at risk from them.”

  “It’s not us they’re worried about.”

  “We understand the human genome well enough now to guarantee—”

  “That’s not a good start,” said Shan, and held her arm out in front of Esganikan in that gesture that said stop. “Let me handle it.”

  Esganikan stopped. Shan took a few more slow steps forward and made a gesture holding up both hands that Esganikan didn’t understand.

  “It’s okay,” Shan called. “We’ve done this before. We’re not going to infect anyone. Eqbas are very efficient at handling biohazards.”

  Esganikan wondered if that was human sarcasm. It seemed to get no reaction from the welcoming party to indicate they understood it as that, and the figure in the center took a few more steps forward before pulling off the mask covering his head. It was Prime Minister Bari. She recognized him.

  “Commander Gai? Superintendent Frankland?” The voice was a little shaky. “We had a more comfortable landing spot picked out for you, but since you’re here…welcome to the Australian Republic.”

  Bari ignored a restraining hand on his arm from one of the men beside him and walked to close the gap.

  “He’s crapping himself,” Shan said quietly. “He’s scared, and he thinks he’s taking a huge risk removing his mask, but it’s so he can look you in the eye and gain your trust. So play nice. Okay?”

  Esganikan saw no need to placate someone who had absolutely no choice, but she heeded Shan’s advice about avoiding conflict, to save time. Earth wasn’t something that could be wiped clean like Umeh was; the ecology was complex. Humans were needed—some of them, anyway.

  Get him on side. He’ll do your work for you.

  It was that alien voice again: Mohan Rayat’s. Esganikan was sure of that now. She took Bari’s extended hand in hers, noting how he stared at the glove, and shook it as instructed.

  “Are you sure this is going to be a suitable place to set up camp, Commander?” he asked. “Even temporarily? There’s nothing out here.”

  “We leave no trace of our presence.” Esganikan retrieved her hand. “And once we locate an aquifer, we can be self-sustaining indefinitely. We’ve worked in much less hospitable climates than this. But we have human colonists and military personnel who need other accommodation.”

  Bari’s two suited escorts stood to either side of him as if they could protect him, while one—possibly a female—stood a few paces behind. Gethes were still a mass of fidgeting, twitching distractions; none of them seemed able to stand still by wess’har standards.

  “We need to begin quarantine procedures for the human crew, at least,” Bari said. “The FEU will insist on their personnel being screened before they enter their borders.”

  “They won’t know what they’re looking for, nor if they find it.”

  Shan intervened. “They’ll know if they see mutated human viruses and bacteria, though.”

  “Very well,” said Esganikan. An opportunity presented itself, and she took it without thinking, but it wasn’t her own impulse. “Provide human pathogen data, and we can screen all the humans for you.”

  “The FEU will still want to quarantine them.”

  “That’s their concern. But the colonists will remain here, so we can screen them for you and deal with any risks. Provide us with info
rmation on your genotypes and pathogen profiles, and we can predict if any contaminant carried by the humans on board will be a hazard to you—or if your diseases will harm them.” Esganikan was more worried for the colonists she’d brought back to Earth than for the native population. They were the kind of responsible humans she thought fit to survive and, as Deborah Garrod put it, inherit the Earth. “Your diseases are most unlikely to affect us, the ussissi or the Skavu.”

  Bari hesitated.

  Perhaps he needed to ask others in his government. Humans were bureaucratic creatures, always needing permission or seeking control, unable to act on their own initiative.

  “We’ll do that,” he said at last. He was sweating visibly in the heat, but there was still no mention of the incident with the FEU fighter. “Commander, might I suggest we find somewhere more comfortable to continue discussions? The heat’s a problem for us. I imagine it’s unpleasant for you, too.”

  “Our next meeting will be at your offices, then,” she said. “But in the meantime, I must speak to the FEU about those responsible for ordering the bombing of Ouzhari.”

  “I thought you’d dealt with all that a few years ago.”

  Bari meant the assassinations of FEU intelligence staff carried out by Helen Marchant’s associates. But the response was out of Esganikan’s mouth before she knew it.

  “There were others,” she said. Were there? Yes, you know there were, don’t you? You remember… “And I must know if they’re still alive. If they are, then they will be punished.”

  Bari took a noisy swallow. It was very distracting. “Might I ask you to warn us about your intentions towards Europe? We’re in a very tense situation at the moment, and the incident with the FEU fighter is causing us problems.”

  Unlike the isenj, Bari didn’t seem to be asking for help to defeat his enemies. Esganikan thought she might offer it anyway, by way of removing an irritant and reassuring an ally.

  “If the warships cause you concern, we can remove them immediately.”

  Bari’s expression was unreadable, but Esganikan knew what a stressed human smelled like. Shan made a noise in her throat, right on the limit of Esganikan’s hearing.

  “Thank you for the offer,” Bari said carefully. Esganikan could see his jaw muscles working even when he stopped talking. “It would help me a lot if you didn’t, though. Perhaps that’s something else we can discuss.”

  The conversation was over for the time being as far as Esganikan was concerned. “I’ll contact you when we’re ready.”

  “We have climate scientists available to begin work with your team,” said Bari. “In the meantime, this area is sealed off by our military, and we’ll keep the media at bay.”

  “If they intrude, we can deal with them.”

  “We don’t shoot journalists, Commander. They’re useful.”

  Esganikan thought of Eddie. It was a pity not to have him on hand, but Shan could manage some of his liaison tasks. “Then we’ll simply ignore them for the time being, and you can deal with them as you wish. Now I want the Federal European Union to honor its pledge to hand over the remaining members of its security services who authorized the use of cobalt devices on Ouzhari. Then I want to move the colonists into some permanent settlement, and then we will begin discussing the changes you need to make to restore this planet to a state of ecological balance for all its species.”

  Shan sighed quietly to herself. “What’s the magic word?”

  “Perhaps Superintendent Frankland could…lay some foundations for our discussion.” Bari glanced at Shan as if he was keen to talk to a human and find out what the aliens were really up to. That was progress. “Despite all the discussion that’s taken place over the years, I’m relatively new, and I still have some catching up to do.”

  “Yes,” Esganikan said flatly. “If that makes you more comfortable. We’ll contact you.”

  Bari stood waiting for a moment and then appeared to realize the discussion was over for the time being. The humans walked off and their vehicles edged forward to meet them halfway. Shan made a little puffing noise through her nose.

  “You can talk to them,” said Esganikan. Shan had been reluctant to come, and her annoyance showed even if it wasn’t detectable in her scent. “Conversation commits you to nothing.”

  Shan glanced at a thin band on her left wrist, clasped her hands behind her back, and shook her head. “I have to hand it to you, Esganikan. We put our boots on Earth soil less than fifteen minutes ago, and you’ve already offered to kick off a world war and pissed over all the diplomatic channels. Not bad. Give us another hour, and we can start Armageddon.”

  “If you believe you can improve matters, now you have the opportunity.” Esganikan could see Ade in her peripheral vision, hands clasped behind his back in much the same square pose as his isan. She felt she’d been exceptionally consultative, as Shan called it. She’d given the humans information; she’d asked them to provide information in return. She could have taken it. “We’ll still do what we have to do. If you think you can make that easier by liaising with Bari in a way that I appear unable to, then I suggest you do it.”

  “Christ, when I’m the diplomat on a mission, then I know we’re in trouble. And there’s no point leaning on Bari to get the FEU to do anything.” Shan frowned slightly. “And what do you mean, there were others? What others?”

  It was what Ade called her copper’s voice. Esganikan recognized it every time now. She was interrogating her.

  I know there were others involved in bombing Ouzhari. I know, because I have Mohan Rayat’s memories. I know who gave him his orders.

  And now Esganikan had to practice that other gift from Rayat’s mind: the art of lying.

  It was getting easier.

  “There are always others,” she said. “It would have been a major decision for humans, and in your society, you rarely take those decisions without committees.”

  Shan gave her a long stare so devoid of emotion that it said everything. She didn’t trust Esganikan. Shan always said she trusted nobody, but that wasn’t entirely accurate; she certainly put great faith in her two males.

  “I thought you drew the line somewhere in your guilt league,” said Shan. “Are you going to go after the bloody committee clerks now?”

  “I must balance this crime.” A police officer like Shan would understand the need for justice, Esganikan thought. “There will be others, and if I have their names, and if they are alive, then I can make that decision.”

  “I’ll ask around,” Shan said sourly.

  She stalked off, Ade close on her heels. Aras wandered after them at a distance, shooting Esganikan a glance that said he didn’t approve of using his isan like that.

  Esganikan could feel the name somehow. That memory was in there too. She might recall it before Shan discovered it; after so many years, finding it was a tall order even for an accomplished detective like her.

  This was our prime reason for coming to Earth, to balance the crime against Ouzhari. It must be dealt with…if only to demonstrate that we mean what we say.

  And that was Rayat speaking for her, she knew.

  An understanding of the thoughts of the spy—Rayat—and the police officer—Shan—would help her deal with humans. As she let the mirage of a distant ruined town lull her into a meditative state, she could detect both of them in her mind somehow, and they felt…similar. Both obsessive; both so committed to their mission that anything was permissible in completing it.

  And yet they hate each other.

  Her hands itched inside her gloves. She peeled back the cuffs, wondering if some insect had found a point of entry, and thought she saw a flash of violet light. It took her a few moments to realize the light was really there, winking and rippling bioluminescence.

  Shan had those lights.

  It’s gathering pace.

  Ade Bennett had the bioluminescence too, but not Aras. Somehow, genes from the bezeri had latched on to Shan’s genome through c’naatat, and n
ow they were within Esganikan, a visible sign of her actions that would betray her to Shan, and Shan would react badly.

  Am I going to end up looking like Aras? Nothing like my own species?

  Esganikan fought down brief panic and smoothed the gloves back into place. As she turned, she saw Shan, paused in mid-step and watching. She was downwind; she had smelled the scent of anxiety. Then the woman looked away and resumed her walk back to the ship.

  I need her cooperation. She’s a matriarch like me, not a gethes. She could probably oust me at any time.

  C’naatat had bought Esganikan time, both to resolve Earth’s problems, and to give her the chance of going home and having a life for herself before she grew too old and lonely in the service of Eqbas Vorhi. Shan would never have made that same choice—not for herself, anyway. But the welfare of her males was a different matter, and that small expedience made her no different and no more moral than Esganikan.

  I know your weakness. You would rather die yourself than face the deaths of those you love, Shan Frankland, because love is rare and new to you.

  Esganikan looked around for Aitassi. The ussissi aide was standing with her snout pointing into the wind, checking what might be out there. “Do we have access to any current Earth data links?”

  The aide trotted back to her, kicking up dry red dust. “We had a link to the climatology database in Kamberra before we embarked. If other public databases use the same basic technology, then we can find a way to access those too.”

  “Good,” said Esganikan. “We can’t wait for the gethes to play their information games. Get the data so we can update the computer modeling.”

  Was that deception, or was it a unilateral decision? Guilt was a human emotion, and now Esganikan felt it for what it was. She was troubled by how unsettled Shan made her feel, and returned to the shelter of the ship.