The Dark Imbalance
Page 6
Roche did so, outlining the exploration of the system after it had been ransacked by the clone warrior, her disastrous attempts to cooperate with Linegar Rufo, and her clash with the Kesh. Later, she hoped, she would be able to discuss things in more detail, but for the time being she contented herself with an overview.
“You say that the name of the enemy in this case was Jelena Heidik?” someone asked when she reached the aftermath of the destruction of Palasian System.
“Yes. It’s one of a list of names we... found in an old archive. The others included Vani Wehr, Sadoc Lleshi, Ralf Dreher—”
“Do you know who they refer to?” Murnane interrupted. “Was there any other information in that archive, apart from the names?”
“No,” she said. She would give them the rest of the names later.
“And where is this Jelena Heidik now?”
“I don’t know,” Roche admitted. “We came here looking for her, but she’s managed to get away.”
“But you do think she’s still somewhere in Sol System?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you believe that?”
“Well, this seems to be where it’s all coming to a head. She would hardly leave so soon.”
Murnane leaned forward, his hands on each side of the font supporting him. “But why Sol System? Are we here following the enemy, or has the enemy followed us? We see patterns of movement across the galaxy, leading here, but we still cannot be one hundred percent certain that we are not fulfilling our own prophecy.” He shrugged. “That is always a risk, I suppose, in any war of espionage; words and hints and suppositions carry little weight compared to maps and soldiers and bullets. So little is certain.”
“We heard that Sol System was the location of an ancient battle,” said Roche.
“It is the location of many things, if you believe the records; few stand up to strict examination. Which battle do you refer to?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “We’ve begun to suspect that the clone warriors—Cane and Heidik and the others—are seeking revenge for a war lost a long time ago. A war won by the Pristines.”
“Do you know when?”
She shrugged. “As far back as we can remember. Half a million years or more. Back when there were only Pristines; the other Castes didn’t exist yet.”
“Do you have records to support this?”
“Nothing concrete—but surely that indirectly supports this theory? If there were records, someone would have found them by now. The fact that we haven’t implies that they no longer exist—that the events we’re looking for lie back in the earliest times.”
“Perhaps.” Murnane’s expression remained impassive. “Remember, though, that many millions of civilizations have risen and fallen since then. That is an awful lot of data to sift through; if the records indeed are lost, not hidden, then we might never know. And without knowing when this battle you refer to took place—and who it was that lost—we have little to go on.”
Roche conceded the point. “That’s partly why we came here,” she said. “We were following Heidik, yes, but we were also interested in seeing what happened. If the clone warriors attacked, then who they attacked first—and last—could reveal who their allies are, or who is related to their creators.”
“Tell me, Roche,” Murnane said. “Did you have any idea how complex the situation here would be before you came?”
“The Box had mentioned a gathering of sorts, and the COE commander I spoke to confirmed it, but that’s all. I expected nothing like this.”
“Did this Box of yours also happen to say anything about the composition of this system?” asked another voice. “There are several anomalies we have not yet fathomed, and I fear they may become hazards to navigation. More of these we do not need.”
It took Roche a second to realize that it was the Heresiarch himself speaking. When she replied, she made certain she followed Vischilglin’s advice and looked him directly in the eye— or at least in the direction of where he stood.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”
“The behavior of the solar wind is quite peculiar, and its effect on the gaseous volatiles of the planetary ring even more anomalous. If your AI had anything to say about that, I would’ve been grateful.”
“Like I said,” Roche replied evenly, keeping her attention fixed firmly on the Heresiarch. “It never mentioned a thing. I’m sorry.”
She thought she saw him shrug, but he was too for away to tell for certain.
“There is no need for apology if one speaks the truth,” he said, with wry humor to his tone.
“We have asked the High Humans for this information, too,” said Murnane into the silence that followed. “They haven’t told us anything that might conceivably help, on that or any other subject. I for one find their silence unnerving. Do you know why this might be the case?”
“No,” said Roche.
“Given that your Box came from this Trinity, which had connections to this High Human called the Crescend, do you think its destruction would be of some concern to him? Would he respond to a call for more information, perhaps?”
“I really don’t know.” Roche hoped he would not respond; if the Crescend revealed to the council that she had lied about the Box’s destruction, that certainly wouldn’t count in her favor.
“The Crescend never contacted you while the Box was in your presence?”
“No, never.”
“Do you expect him to?”
She resisted the urge to ask where this line of questioning was going. “Look, I went to Trinity to collect the Box, but met no one while I was there. I was rendered unconscious in orbit, and when I woke up the Box was... in my possession. That’s all. You’re obviously hoping that I can act as some sort of link between yourselves and the High Humans, but I don’t see that as being an option. I’ve never communicated with them, and I doubt I ever will. Why should they bother with me? I’m just someone who happens to be caught in the middle of all this.”
<1 hope you know what you’re doing, Box,> she whispered via her implants to the AI in her body.
“We are all caught in this,” Murnane said. “But outside of the enemy, few individuals have had such a catalytic effect as yourself.” He paused. “Is there anything else you would like to tell us, while this council is in session?”
“No,” she repeated.
“Will you submit to a probe by one of our reaves to verify the answers you have given us?”
The question surprised her. “Why do you need that? The hard data speaks for itself, and I’ve no reason to deceive you.”
“Nevertheless—will you?”
If she said yes, they would know that she was lying about the Box. Although she knew it would look suspicious, she had no choice but to say: “No. I’m sorry.”
“Will you allow us, then, to examine you and, if necessary, take a genetic sample?”
She squirmed.
Again, she had no choice. “I’d prefer not to,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Murnane studied her for a long moment. “As are we,” he said. “But we cannot force you to submit to either examination—nor would we wish to.” He gestured helplessl
y. “This meeting is now concluded. We would ask you to return to your ship, Roche, and—”
“What!” Roche snapped. “Aren’t you even going to discuss what I’ve told you?”
“There is no need,” he said. “We’ve been conferring by epsense the entire time.”
“But you can’t just dismiss me!”
“Can’t we?” He took a step toward her. “Roche, we had hoped that you would provide us with information that is both new and verifiable. We had hoped that this might show us a way to combat the enemy we fear has infiltrated every group we deal with and perverts everything we attempt to do to stop them. Now it seems certain that you yourself have fallen into the same trap—either willingly or by accident.”
Roche felt herself straighten, her tired back and stomach muscles tensing as though ready for attack. “Meaning?”
“You have told us nothing, Roche. You claim that Adoni Cane is one of the enemy, yet you can offer no explanation for this surety nor a reason for his atypical behavior. Of what value is his genetic data under those circumstances? You offer us names that you assure us are relevant, but do not give us a context in which to place them or access to the records you say they came from. On what grounds can we possibly use them as means to uncover the enemy among us? You cannot tell us why Sol System has become the focus of so much concern—you can’t even tell us why you came here without resorting to vague explanations involving this mysterious AI of yours! And as to that, well, I hardly need to state how the council feels. If it existed at all, its tenuous connections to the High Humans might have been exploitable, but as it stands—”
“I’m telling you the truth,” she broke in angrily.
“Are you?” Murnane moved closer again, his own anger evident in his face. “There is much to suggest that what you are doing is far from innocent. Ameidio Haid is a convicted criminal who, as the Commerce Artel points out, has not served his full term; who is to say you don’t have criminal intent in mind as well? Add to that the fact that both your young friend here and the pilot of your vessel are the subjects of biological experiments; if Adoni Cane’s genetic data and physiognomy turn out to be peculiar, could he not also be an experimental subject, and not the enemy you claim he is?
“Then there are the credibility gaps in your story. How did you come to the conclusion that Adoni Cane was one of the enemy? How did you survive Palasian System when even the Kesh destroyer sent to monitor the situation did not? Why did you come here? And why has your arrival caused such a furor among all those who have known you: the COE, the Dato Bloc, the Commerce Artel, the Surin, the Kesh, the Olmahoi... ?
“Even if what you are telling us is the truth, and Adoni Cane is one of the enemy, then how can we trust someone who openly admits to having one aboard her ship—as part of her crew?”
Murnane shook his head. “It may seem like we pre-judged you, but we have done nothing of the sort. We simply considered all possible conclusions prior to your arrival and allowed you to show us the one that best fitted the circumstances. Because you seem not to be dealing honestly with us, we are forced to conclude that Adoni Cane is a fake, or a misdiagnosis, or an enemy plant. We are unsure of your motives, but we are sure that we will no longer allow our precious time to be wasted examining your spurious claims and false offers. We have work to do, Roche, and a distraction such as this, even if not maliciously intended, does the enemy’s work for them.”
Tight-lipped, Roche forced herself to speak calmly. “If I could just say—”
“There is nothing more to be said,” Murnane cut in. “Hue Vischilglin will escort you and your companion to your vessel. Once you’re on board, the protection offered by the Phlegethon will be withdrawn.”
Vischilglin appeared, expressionless, at Roche’s side as Murnane turned his back and moved away without another word. The Heresiarch made no move at all. Roche let herself be taken by the arm and led away, furious but impotent, as a growing murmur filled the fane.
3
SHCV Phlegethon
955.1.30
0900
She stopped midsentence as its admission sank in.
“Well, that could have gone better.”
Roche recognized the man’s voice as one from the interrogation. She looked up to see a fair-haired, diminutive figure waiting for them at the top of the stairs, an almost condescending smile beaming from his small, triangular face.
Vischilglin didn’t give Roche a chance to reply. “Stand aside, Junior Primate Nemeth,” she said, pushing past the man and heading back down into the thick cloud they had climbed through to get to the council.
“That’s Assistant Vice Primate to you, Co-adjutant Vischilglin,” he objected, following them down the steps.
Only then did Roche realize something odd about the council—or rather the people who comprised the council. They were all plenipotentiary envoys, co-adjutants, assistant vice primates, senior aides—underlings with fancy titles. None of them were the real operators. Perhaps, she thought, the situation in Sol System was too risky for the superiors to come, so their assistants had been sent instead.
Then she realized another thing: she had heard the name of Assistant Vice Primate Nemeth somewhere before. She stopped and turned to the man. He stopped also, a couple of meters away, behind Maii. Mist from the cloud created a slight haze between them, but not enough to obscure the man’s crooked grin.
“It was you who hailed us before we came here,” she said. “Before that drone intercepted us.”
Nemeth executed a slight bow of the head. “I’m flattered you remembered me.”
“What do you want?” Roche was in no mood for small talk.
He gesticulated expansively. “Perhaps it would be more appropriate to ask what it is you want—from me?>
She studied him for a moment, then turned and continued after Vischilglin down the steps. “I haven’t got time for these games,” she muttered irritably.
ding pace behind her.
Roche sighed. <1 only came here looking for answers. I mean, what were they expecting to find in me? A savior or something?>
Roche frowned.