The Dark Imbalance
Page 22
She was about to protest that the talent was so vague as to be almost useless, except to sweep a large number of people to make sure they were clean. But then she stopped herself. The council didn’t need to know about her talent’s limitations—not initially, anyway. The very fact that her ability existed would at least guarantee her a hearing.
She thought about that for a few seconds.
Neither of the names rang a bell.
Roche was silent for a while, on the verge of making the decision but still balking. It would only take a call to Kajic to put them on their way. She wanted to make absolutely certain—as certain as she could be, anyway—that she was doing the right thing.
She hadn’t dared ask the question so blatantly, so to hear the reply threw her off balance for a moment. She didn’t want to push her luck by asking why he approved.
The ramifications of that information were profound.
And yet it had offered the Crescend’s advice on the matter of the Phlegethon. That was out of character. Either it had a hidden agenda—which was all too possible—or the High Human had finally decided to become involved.
She wasn’t sure if the latter would be a good thing or not.
Yawning, she rolled back onto her stomach.
The AI did as it was told, making sure to maintain the illusion that Roche herself had placed the call. When Vri responded, she said:
“Vri, it’s Roche.” The Surin didn’t respond, so she kept talking. “I need to ask you something. About Maii.”
“Which is?”
“Do you know the name of Maii’s mother? Or even her family name?”
There was a pause. “No. Why?”
“Would the Agora know?” she said, ignoring his question.
“I would assume so.”
“And would you think it unreasonable of me to ask for that information before I even consider handing Maii over?”
He paused again, then answered, “No, not at all.”
“Good, because that’s as far as I’m prepared to compromise at the moment. Unless you can convince me that the Agora knows what it’s doing—and is doing it for the right reasons—then you will never complete your mission. If, however, you can convince me, then your chances of convincing Maii will improve. Ultimately, she is the one you have to deal with. Unless she agrees, you’ll go home empty-handed.”
There was a third pause as he seemed to consider this. “I understand,” he said finally.
“Do you, Vri?”
“I am not stupid, Roche. There is a bond between you and the child; that is indisputable. I may question the nature of the bond on your side in the same way that you question the sincerity of my superiors—but, as you have pointed out, neither of us can do anything without Maii’s consent. We are not monsters, you and I.”
Remembering the concern with which he had brought the injured girl back to the scutter, Roche could only agree.
“Then let’s leave it at that,” she said. “We’ll go back to the Phlegethon. She’ll be safer there. You can contact the Agora, or their representatives in the system, and we’ll talk about it. Openly, and with Maii. She’ll be conscious by the time we get back, and she’ll be able to tell if anyone’s lying. When we’ve all talked it through, she can decide what she wants to do, and we’ll abide by her decision. Can we agree on that?”
“We can.” Through his gruff reticence, she sensed a certain satisfaction. “I will contact my superiors as soon as we arrive and advise them of our decision.”
“Good.” She went to close the line, but stopped at the last second. “And Vri? Thanks for everything you did for her today. You saved her life over there.”
“Your thanks are not necessary. I was doing my duty.”
“I know that,” she said. “But to you, duty is everything, isn’t it?”
He didn’t reply. A second later, the line closed.
Roche smiled to herself.
<1 hope you mean that metaphorically, Morgan.>
She smiled again as she closed her eyes.
13
SHCV Phlegethon
955.2.13
1975
The conference room was conical in shape, its walls tapering smoothly up from the circular floor to a point far above, from which shone a single, bright light. A round table filled most of the floor space, cut, like the walls, from heavy gray stone. Apart from the table, the light, eight chairs, and a single door, the room was featureless. Roche had been assured that it was completely secure: no information could get in or out by any means, including epsense, without the knowledge of the room’s inhabitants.
“We hardly expected you back so soon,” said Esko Murnane. Roche had been surprised to see him at the meeting of the Ulterior, but not as surprised, it seemed, as Rey Nemeth, whose customary charm—superficial though it might have been—was still clouded by a scowl. There were four others at the table Roche hadn’t been introduced to.
“I thought it best to return, for a number of reasons,” she said, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Even though she was dressed in full combat armor and armed to the point where even the hospitable Skehan Heterodox had thought twice about letting her aboard their ship, she still felt vulnerable. “There’s something you need to know.”
“Is it related to your mission?”
“Perhaps indirectly,” she said. “I might not have found out about it if I hadn’t gone.”
“I have her reports
,” said Nemeth, attempting to reclaim some power in the assembly.
“I’ll read them later,” said Murnane dismissively.
“You won’t find anything in the reports about this,” Roche said. “It’s not information I’d like to go public with just yet.”
“What is it, then?”
She glanced at Haid, who had accompanied her this trip. Maii was still in the Ana Vereine’s medical center, conscious but weak. Haid caught her look and shrugged.
“You have a problem,” she said slowly. “There are five of the enemy on board the Phlegethon.”
Startled mutterings broke out among those gathered, but it was Nemeth’s voice which rose above them all: “Are you sure?”
“I have no doubts whatsoever,” she said. “In fact, there may be even more. You have too large a crew to scan all of them effectively and quickly. But I can tell you that three are amidships, one is down in the crypt and the other is up near the minaret.”
“Where exactly?” pressed Nemeth.
“I can’t tell,” she said with a slight shrug. “I just know they’re there.”
The mutterings continued among the other members of the Ulterior. Except for Murnane, who hardly reacted at all.
“How could you possibly know this?” he asked calmly.
“It’s hard to explain,” said Roche.
“Nevertheless,” said Murnane smoothly, “you’re going to have to try. We have no intention of taking you at your word.”
“I understand that.”
“Is there any way to get a precise fix on them?” said Nemeth.
“Only by looking for them in person,” she said. “By coming face to face with them.”
“At grave personal risk, no doubt,” said Murnane, leaning back in his seat.
She met and held Murnane’s icy blue eyes. “Yes,” she said.
“Do you expect the council to sanction such an undertaking?” There was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
“She hasn’t come to the council,” said Nemeth.
“The person I should speak to is the Heresiarch,” Roche said. “It’s his ship, after all.”
Murnane dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “How long have you known?”
“Little more than an hour. We swept the ship on the way in to dock.”
“And how do you know that one of us isn’t a clone warrior?” asked a woman to Roche’s left.
“I checked before you sealed the room.” Although Maii was on the Ana Vereine and physically resting, her mind was still strong. The n-space link was harder to maintain over a distance, but still viable.
“That’s not to say, of course, that one of us couldn’t be in league with them,” said Murnane, glancing around the table. “The Ulterior is an organization designed for covert dealings, after all.” Then, returning to Roche, he said: “Perhaps it’s time you told us exactly how you came by this knowledge.”
She agreed and proceeded to describe how her chance link with Maii had brought to their attention Roche’s ability to detect the minds of the enemy in the way they distorted the fabric of n-space. She still couldn’t explain what those distortions meant or why it seemed she alone possessed this ability, and was as open about this as she was about her inability to pin down a clone warrior’s precise location.
“Despite this limitation,” interrupted someone from the end of the table, “you are certain you can identify them?”
Roche nodded. “It enabled me to identify Inderdeep Jans as one of the two clone warriors on Perdue Habitat,” she said. “And of the seven locations we visited, I was able to scan them prior to boarding and determine which of the locations had been compromised by the enemy and which of them had not been.”
“How many hadn’t been?”
“Just one.”
This provoked another round of muttering, until Murnane broke in.
“Would it be possible to replicate this procedure with another reave?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m willing to try.”
“Good.” He nodded. “We’ve been looking for a way to use epsense to reveal the enemy. This might just be it.”
The conference room was unsealed for a moment, to summon one of the high-grade reaves warding the room—one of the many Maii had observed in the fane during their first visit. She was a short Pristine woman dressed in white robes and a ceremonial headdress wrapped about her eyes, ears and mouth.
Roche colored slightly. Answering in kind, via epsense, she said:
Roche felt the faintest suggestion of Maii at the back of her mind; before Roche had left the Ana Vereine, the reave had installed a shield guarding the knowledge that the Box had survived Palasian System. She forced herself to think of something else.
The woman entered her mind like a sheet of silk sliding into water. There was no sensation of invasion or penetration; she was suddenly there, among Roche’s thoughts, as though she always had been.
Roche felt her mind swept up by the woman’s and tugged into another place—a place where there were no walls, no boundaries, just the faintest suggestion of lines all around them, some intersecting, others stretching out to infinity. Where they met, they glowed white.
Roche was suddenly pulled in a thousand directions at once—as though her skin had been plucked by fishhooks and stretched like the fabric of a balloon to the breaking point—
The reave made no apology for the obvious discomfort she had caused, but the sensation vanished and Roche found herself floating over the familiar gray field of n-space.
Ignoring Stryki’s disdain, Roche forced herself to look around with the woman.
She described the congregation of shielded bumps that she guessed was the meeting. A steep ridge surrounded the gathering—the shield, she presumed, that kept outside observers at bay.
Roche recalled what Maii had said about the irikeii calling her an “enigma.” The possibility that it might be Maii’s block confusing the issue didn’t occur to her until the reave went on: <1 can sense the Abomination’s hand in your mind. You are aware of this?>
the reave assured her.
<
br /> Although leery of the woman’s intent—and tired of her incessant insinuations regarding Maii—Roche did allow her back into her mind. She had little choice but to trust the reave if she was to get anywhere.
Roche allowed Stryki to whisk her through the concatenated minds of the crew of the Phlegethon for a minute or two before asking:
The reave hesitated a second.
Roche would have been interested to hear more about the latter. She was, however, forced to concentrate on the task before her. The sea of thoughts was rushing by much faster than it had with Maii. It was all she could do to keep up.
Then she saw it: a dip representing a clone warrior.
The reave retraced the way they had come, more slowly. Now Roche could tell that the concentration of people was less dense than it had been before.
The reave was silent for a moment.