by K S Augustin
“You murdered civilians,” Lith cut in, her voice choked. “Children. You killed children.”
Cheloi thought it was luck as much as skill that finally placed her exactly where the Fusion wanted her to be, although she knew the analysts would have disagreed with her. And the rest of her mission wrote itself.
“I know.” She let the silence lengthen between them. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”
Telling Lith that such actions were considered normal by the Perlim would have made things worse. The Empire claimed no adherence to any rules of morality when suppressing a revolt. Her own rationalisation at the time of the massacre was that what happened at Sab-Iqur would bring a quicker end to the war and, eventually, to the Empire itself, but the thought held little comfort.
She heard Lith’s quick, angry intake of breath. “A bit late to be sorry now, Cheloi.”
Yes, it was. The lives lost could never be brought back, thrown into entropy forever. The only slight sliver of hope she had was a long-term view of the ultimate consequence of her actions. The nightmares that haunted her about the hapless village were almost balanced by her conviction that that small action had resulted in one more crack in the edifice of the Perlim Empire.
“It still stands, Lith. For what it’s worth.” She let her driver think on that for a while. “Now it’s my turn. Why did you rescue me?”
Why did I rescue her?
How could Lith even begin to explain the morass of emotions Cheloi Sie had roused in her? The frustrating contradictions, the faltering hesitations, the feel of hands on her body and the lap of a tongue against her sensitive wanting skin. How could she balance that against the cool aloof tones of command and the casual ability to send hundreds to their deaths?
“I wanted to hate you,” she said softly, almost to herself. “I came to Menon prepared to hate you, for all you did to the people of this planet.”
“You wanted to hate me?”
In the darkness, it was easy to imagine that the voice only sounded like Cheloi without it actually being her.
“Yes.”
It was easy to imagine a kinder, more supple character behind those words, slightly slurred through the effects of medication. A voice that didn’t belong to the person who could anger her to a frenzy while seducing her with tenderness.
“If you hated me, why would you want to work for me?”
Grakal-Ski knew the answer to that one. And it suddenly occurred to Lith that, by rescuing the Colonel, she had just put herself in grave danger when (if) they ever made it back to Perlim-controlled territory alive. The sub-Colonel would not appreciate being betrayed.
“Maybe I was curious,” she answered, trying to sound unconcerned while thoughts careened through her head.
But she could tell Cheloi was unconvinced. “Curious about a murderer?”
Lith licked suddenly dry lips, glad of the cloak of darkness that surrounded them. She changed position, pulling her legs up underneath her sitting figure. How could she have forgotten Koul Grakal-Ski?
“I wondered–I wondered what you would be like, how you would act.”
“And have you come to any conclusions?” The voice was dry.
How could she possibly ask such a question? Wasn’t her own physical abandonment to the Colonel an answer in its own right? Lith clenched her jaw, tightening her lips. Did nothing reach this woman? Their stolen kisses. Their heated coupling. The rescue. Could nothing rock her contained and impersonal demeanour, even lying injured as she was? In that moment, she understood how Koul could so thoroughly hate the rational and efficient Cheloi Sie.
“Grakal-Ski wants you dead,” she said abruptly, changing tack.
“Yes, I imagine he’s been having that fantasy for the past couple of years.”
“I mean, this was one of his attempts.”
She heard one slight movement and imagined Cheloi was trying to find her in the darkness.
“Our capture?”
Lith nodded, even though she knew Cheloi couldn’t see it. “I don’t have definitive proof but….”
“But?” Cheloi prompted.
“I think it was him.”
“How?”
How. What was Lith supposed to say? That she knew about an “accident” and the happy discovery by the rebels and agreed to the scheme to save her own skin? That she was sent by a disillusioned splinter of the Fusion to try righting an obvious wrong?
“He–he approached me one day. In my quarters.”
If anything, the silence deepened, adding its own ominous accent to the conversation. Lith looked through one of the broken windows, high up near the ceiling. She saw the cold glitter of faint stars through the opening, obscured every few seconds by the pastel flashes of the eternal ion storms sweeping the planet’s atmosphere.
It had all seemed so clear-cut and simple when Nils explained it to her. This was her chance to do something for the homeland her parents had escaped from. Her chance to start righting the wrongs that an older generation couldn’t.
“What did Koul say?” Cheloi’s voice was unsurprised.
And what had happened when the chance finally arrived? She didn’t have to raise a weapon. Didn’t even have to open her mouth. All she had to do was let the situation play out and save herself. Drel, and justice, would have done the rest. But instead of leaving the Butcher of Sab-Iqur to a brutal but well-deserved fate, she rescued her. Was there any penance in the galaxy that would wash away such culpability?
“He told me he expected a promotion after Senior-Colonel Samnett was killed.” Lith’s voice was dull with remembrance and the self-accusations running through her head. “That he was a certainty for command, until you came along.”
Cheloi coughed out a laugh, a rasping sound that made Lith move towards her until she checked the action, coming to a sudden stop metres from the Colonel’s pallet.
“Trust Koul to blame someone else for his own shortcomings.” Cheloi took a breath. Across the room, Lith heard its shallow wheeze. “The man’s an able thinker, but he’s never going to get anywhere if he doesn’t develop any self-criticism.”
That was the thing that stunned Lith. She didn’t even sound angry. She took it in stride, as if Lith told her Grakal-Ski had purchased new supplies rather than plotted to get her killed. Was everything a game to her? Did she regard their liaison the same way? Look at their passionate interlude with the same coolness with which she eyed the daily despatches? Did anything make any difference to this woman?
“But why you?” Cheloi mused, aloud. “Why not approach Rumis? He’d be the more likely target.”
“Rumis is very loyal to you,” Lith answered in a faint voice, seating herself again. “Everybody knows that. Whereas I’m the newcomer. And he was responsible for my transfer to your staff. Maybe he thought I owed him some loyalty.”
“True enough,” Cheloi conceded after a short pause. “Where did he first approach you? At the Nineteen? Or before that?”
“We met for the first time in Blue Sector. After our forces were routed.”
She wished she could see the Colonel’s face. See for herself if the dispassion in that calm dark voice was matched by the look in her eyes.
“That recently?”
Lith heard surprise threading through the words.
“I would have thought he knew you for longer,” Cheloi continued, half to herself, “especially if he depended on you as a co-conspirator. Koul doesn’t trust easily. Unless….”
Lith closed her eyes and rested her head against the cold rough wall behind her.
It was over. All over.
“Did he find out something about you?”
“Yes.” Her voice was dead. Listless.
“Was he blackmailing you, Lith?”
“Yes.”
“With what? What does Koul know?”
Lith swallowed but kept her eyes shut. “He knows I’m from the Fusion.”
The Fusion! How could this be? Cheloi knew the way her masters thought, the
way they operated. A second person was never dropped into a covert operation like hers. To do so was to invite chaos.
But another part of Cheloi’s mind was dancing with joy. She would have done cartwheels on the floor if her body didn’t hurt so much. Lith’s from the Fusion!
There’s still a chance of seeing her again after this whole business is over!
Her heart leapt at the words before she could stop it. Maybe there was a future for her (for them!) after all. She felt her self-discipline weakening, giving in to images of Lith’s delectable form laid out naked on snow-white sheets. Her eyes gleaming, her arms beckoning. Those full and firm breasts with nipples puckering, those long legs slowly spreading, inviting her—
No!
A sharp stab of pain pulled her back from her daydreams and focused her thoughts.
There was too much at stake. Too much training, too much knowledge, too many moves already in play. She smothered all carnal thoughts associated with Lith’s revelation. Trying to breathe deeply helped because it hurt like hell. What were the consequences of Lith’s revelation?
The first one was all too apparent. Unfortunately.
“What about Drel?”
That would explain why Lith was relatively untouched while she felt like she’d been put through a coarse shredder.
“Did you tell him you’re from the Fusion?” Cheloi added.
And her optimism began to crumble when Lith said: “Yes.”
Chapter Fourteen
Day 1,536 of the War:
“Laisen, you made it.” The smile on Copan’s face was understated but sincere.
Cheloi couldn’t repress an answering smile. “It was a near thing, Doctor.”
“Sit down. Tell me about it. We have lots to discuss.” There was an edge to his voice. “But before we get to that, where are you now?”
Cheloi eased herself into the familiar armchair.
“I’m at the Nineteen’s headquarters, at the clinic. Thankfully I have no organ punctures or they would have shipped me to one of the major medical centres.”
He nodded. “Where a deep scan could reveal your non-Perlim origins.”
“Quite possibly. The Fusion can work wonders but not genetic miracles.”
The knowledge-immersion was undoubtedly the easiest part of any mission. At least that was something Cheloi could control. Unlike the operations to physically alter her, internally and externally.
This time the Fusion’s bodywork specialists had left her a bit shorter than her usual height, modified her features and lightened her skin. They opened her up, fortified her anatomy and moved organs around, keeping them in their new positions with barely-visible fat-skein nets. Despite their wondrous technologies, however, the Fusion was not infallible. If Cheloi was to keep up the masquerade, she had to stay as far away from a fully-equipped hospital as possible.
With this in mind, the Fusion waited until the real Cheloi Sie had passed all the deep scans and was already on Menon IV before murdering her. Laisen replaced her at the tail-end of a battle where most of the senior commanders had already perished. It was as neat an insertion as anybody could have wished. And it kept her secret safe.
Until now. Lith’s secret had the potential to blow her entire mission six ways past the Menon sun.
Cheloi briefly related to Copan what had happened in Drel’s underground tunnel complex and the method of her escape. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, but said nothing until she ground to a halt.
“So the rebels know Lith is Fusion?”
“Yes.”
Cheloi thought she might have been able to salvage every situation, except the one she now found herself in.
“What do you see as your options?”
She shook her head. “None of them are good. I could expose Lith as a Fusion agent.”
“Except you’ve developed feelings for her.”
Cheloi looked sharply at the psychiatrist, who smiled. “Come now, Laisen, did you think I wouldn’t know? I’ve been living in your cortex for years now. I know your responses the moment a synapse fires.” He looked at her, not unkindly. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t want—”
“I don’t think it’s ever a question of want. You’ve fallen for Lith because she’s intelligent and passionate and you’ve been keeping yourself aloof from romantic entanglements for too many years. In my report on your suitability for this mission, I pointed that out as one of your vulnerabilities. Unfortunately, you have a singular inability to fuck then walk away. I tried suggesting that as a strategy for you, but should have known it was a doomed hope.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yet you did encourage me to start a physical relationship with Lith in the first place.”
Copan shrugged. “That was when I thought she was Perlim. In the end, you would have had no choice. You would have been forced to leave her. But in the meantime, it would have kept you balanced and mentally healthy.”
She looked at him for the space of two heartbeats. “You’re a bastard, Doctor.”
He ignored the remark. “What are you going to do?”
Her gaze bored into his for a moment before she set aside her anger. “If I expose Lith as Fusion, the mission can be saved.”
“But she will probably be executed.”
Cheloi exhaled. A long slow breath. “Yes, that’s true. Or I could kill Drel to keep him quiet.”
“And how would you find him?”
“I don’t know. Set up a barrage of the area and hope it gets him. I think I can pinpoint where I was being held.”
“You would be killing a lot of other people.”
“I know.”
Sab-Iqur all over again.
“I could spread disinformation,” she said absently. “Say that was a lie, a ploy, on Lith’s part to escape.”
Copan brightened. “Would it work?”
“No.” She paused and straightened. “Maybe. After all, the reason I doubted her loyalty in the first place was because her family came from a world just on the border of Fusion space. The medical facilities on Menon are known to be basic. Nobody would believe a guerilla leader would have access to sophisticated medical tests to be able to verify her statement.”
“So you’re thinking that what made you doubt her, may have reassured Drel. Which is why you were able to escape?”
She grimaced. “Possibly.”
“What if,” Copan said slowly, “she’s playing you both for fools? Telling both you and Drel what you want to hear?”
That was a truly unpalatable thought.
She shook her head. “If I start down that path, I’ll be creating conspiracies within conspiracies.”
“Just remember,” he warned. “If your disinformation plan doesn’t work, you may have to make the hard decision, Laisen. Lith Yinalña or the Fusion.”
“I’m well aware of that, Doctor.”
“And speaking of hard decisions,” he paused. “You’ve no doubt guessed about the trigger of my program during abnormal times of stress.”
“Your voice yelling in my head is not something I’m liable to forget.”
“The trigger happens for a reason. And one of them is when an agent is thinking of committing suicide.” He searched her face. “If it was up to me, I’d pull you from the mission right now.”
“No,” Cheloi objected, her voice sharp. “I’m too close now. It’s all about to come apart for the Empire, I can feel it.”
“Really? In which case, why were you so ready to throw it all away just two days ago?”
She remained silent.
“Unfortunately,” he said with a sigh, “I’m not in a position to act on my inclinations. We’re too far away from the Fusion and I can’t force you to activate the displacement signal in your wrist.”
Cheloi brightened. “No, you can’t.”
“But I still have grave concerns regarding that episode in Drel’s interrogation room. It will be part of my official report, Laisen Carros.”
Hopefully, by the time the wetware module was extracted and downloaded, it would be too late to do anything.
“Whatever you say, Doctor.”
And he had to be satisfied with that.
“No.”
Rumis took a deep breath. “Colonel—”
Cheloi plastered the most forbidding look she could muster on her face. “No, Rumis. For the tenth time, I’m not getting shipped to Regional Medical.”
Rumis’ lips twitched. “I’m sure that was only the sixth time, Colonel.”
The bed was so comfortable, Cheloi thought, she could close her eyes and sleep for days. Her eyelids fluttered briefly as they matched action to image. There were no windows in the underground infirmary, but she was being well looked after. There was no bare ground under her fingers, no rough burlap to lean against, no teetering boxes to watch out for.
She and Lith had made it to the nearest Nineteen Perlim outpost during the early hours of the previous morning and had been transported immediately to the territory’s HQ. There was a flurry of activity and both women were separated. Cheloi knew she should have been worried about such things but she was too tired to care. As she told Copan, there were no serious injuries to treat. The rebels had wanted her in reasonable shape for her show-trial, and the slight anatomical fortifications the Fusion had given her had worked well. She was confident she could get all the medication and treatment she required locally. Anything the Perlim doctors missed could be put right by the Fusion later on.
“What if you need a treatment we don’t have?” Rumis asked, pressing the point. “Maybe your leg will give you more problems? Why take the chance, Colonel?”
For more reasons than you’ll understand.
Cheloi gazed at her adjutant and once again felt that uncomfortable mixture of affection and despair. The time would come when she’d have to leave him behind. Would he remember her with affection? Would he want to remember her at all?
