Bitter Angels

by C. L. Anderson

  “I want proof,” she blurted the words out.

  “Proof?”

  “That you’ve done what you say.” Her voice hardened, showing some authority for the first time since she entered the cabin. “You lie a great deal, Grand Sentinel. You might be lying now.”

  Torian pursed his mouth, acknowledging the justice of this remark. “I might, it’s true. It happens I’m not. However, I will give you access to my personal system. You can spend the rest of the flight perusing the information at your leisure.”

  “No. I’ll do it back on Hospital.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you could have a whole fake data set here. It will be harder to fake it on Hospital when I can make cross-references under my own clearances.”

  “Harder, but not impossible,” he pointed out.

  Emiliya shrugged. “At least I’ll have a fighting chance.”

  “Very good,” said Torian, and he meant it. He got to his feet. “I am glad I decided to bring you in, Dr. Varus. You have a great deal to contribute to the future of your family.” He bowed.

  Emiliya remained straight-backed and expressionless. She believed what he told her, Torian was certain of that, but she did not yet know what to think of it. Impatience welled up, but he reminded himself she had not been raised to expect beneficence or miracles. He’d like to give her more time, but there was none. She must either accept or be discarded with the rest.

  “You chose Kapa on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked softly.

  “But not his ending. For that, I am sorry.” The ship was found in pieces. It seemed that the corruption Donnelly had worked on the code had been too much, and when the engine compartment separated from the rest of the modules, the hatches had failed to close properly. It was a shame. Kapa Lu had been a useful dupe and distraction.

  “I see.” Emiliya glanced down at her hands, walked to the door, turned, and bowed deeply. Torian accepted the gesture and remained standing as she cranked open the door and closed it behind herself.

  Welcome, Emiliya, he said silently. Welcome her to our eternity.

  “Welcome, Emiliya,” the voices responded. “We will welcome her to our eternity.”

  His eyes unfocused from the room in front of him and he watched Emiliya Varus from a dozen different angles as she walked through the ship’s compartments, and all the Clerks bowed before her.

  TWENTY SEVEN

  AMERAND

  I ran away from Terese. I ran until my lungs burned and my guts ached. I ran into the dark, until I had to stop and lean against the tunnel wall, to catch my breath and find my bearings.

  How could she call Emiliya a traitor? How did she dare! I’d offered to help her. I’d risked everything for her! And she came back at me with this.

  It was not true. It could not be true. The whole world might crack apart, the Clerks might sprout parakeet wings and fly, but Emiliya would not betray me to the Clerks.

  Field Commander Drajeske did not know half of what was going on.

  I ground the heel of my hand into my side, trying to ease the cramp. It was my fault. Mine. I had not been paying enough attention. I had seen Emiliya working with the Blood Family, and I hadn’t even stopped to think it might be because they had her family. I was an ass. An idiot. How could I have not thought of it?

  Because I was too busy thinking about Kapa and Emiliya.

  She thought I didn’t know, but I did. I knew she was waiting for him to come back. I’d known for years. That was the real reason we had never come together. That and because we were too afraid. I was too afraid.

  I had to get to her. There had to be something I could do. Even if there wasn’t, I couldn’t let her think I’d abandoned her, or worse, have her think I had turned on her.

  But what if I just made things worse for her?

  They’re using you. Hamahd’s voice grated in my memory. They’re using you to finish the new system.

  Using me? How in all the hells ever imagined could the Blood Family or their Clerks be using me? I was nothing. I was nobody. A secops captain, I barely rated my own Clerk. I didn’t make trouble. I didn’t want anything except my parents back. What did they want with me?

  I didn’t know yet. I’d find out. I would. I was onto them now. They’d trained me to watch and to listen and to find things that were hidden. Maybe not with all those drills and obedience vids at the academy, but with the surveillance that was as much a part of our lives as breathing.

  I would find Emiliya. I had to go back to her. I couldn’t let her think when it came down to it that I was like Kapa.

  It took me hours to find her. Any other day, I would have tapped into the Security’s system, or simply asked the people on watch around the port yard and similar posts. But I was supposed to be in custody. I couldn’t be seen, so I had to walk the streets like just another OB trying to get through the day.

  The OBs existed on sufferance in clusters here and there. They generally took one of two routes to survival: Either they kept their heads down, working with and for each other and such Dazzle natives as would tolerate them, or they mobbed up to take what they could. I started my search near the port yard, gradually slouching down to the base streets, keeping to the fringes and the edges, looking, I hoped, like someone you didn’t need to pay attention to.

  I almost didn’t see her in the back of an OB shop, bargaining hard with an angular woman for a bunch of small, sour green grapes.

  Cautiously, keeping near the front door, I stepped into Emiliya’s field of vision. The movement caught her eye, and she looked up. She went white and the bunch of grapes fell from her hand back onto the pile of battered fruits. Without a word, she turned away, striding out the back door.

  I dodged out the front and around the corner. I knew where she was going, and I caught up with her just as she reached the threshold to the interior staircase.

  She must have heard my footsteps coming up behind her but didn’t stop until I reached out to touch her shoulder.

  “Emiliya.”

  She didn’t turn. She just jerked her shoulder out of my hand. The reminder of Hamahd’s hand jerking out of my grasp was almost too much to stand, but it wasn’t as hard as her words.

  “Get away from me.”

  My jaw dropped, but I rallied. I had to. “No. Listen to me. Please.”

  “I can’t.” She turned her head, just a little, just enough for me to see the desperation shining in one dark-ringed eye. “They’re paying attention to me. Get away.”

  I took her hands. Her nails were dirty. Emiliya was a doctor. She never let her nails get dirty. If I needed a sign that they’d taken her family, this was it. Nothing else could hit her this hard. “Emiliya, I’ve got a way out for you.”

  “What?”

  “The Solarans. I’ve spoken with Terese. They’ll take you out of here if you ask them to.”

  She stared at me, then she laughed, a harsh, terrible sound. “You want me to go to the Solarans.”

  I didn’t know what to do. I’d known she would be on the edge, but I didn’t expect her to be this far gone. “Yes,” I said softly. “Emiliya, now’s your chance. I’m telling you. We can both pull our families out.” Tell me what’s happened, Emiliya. Tell me they’ve taken your people. I’ll help. I swear, I swear, but you’ve got to talk to me.

  She stared, letting the weight of my statement sink slowly through her. I was hoping to see that her heart swelled, that she felt some measure of the hope I did.

  But Emiliya remained closed, dark. Dead. “I can’t go to the Solarans, Amerand.”

  “Why?”

  She just shook her head. “It’s too late.”

  “Why?” I wanted her to admit it. I wanted us for once to speak openly to each other. I wanted that sign of how much things had already changed.

  But she didn’t. She just hung her head. “What do you care? You’re not here because of me. You’re here because of the Field Commander.” She spat the last words.

  Unwelcome
understanding came over me. “Emiliya, are you jealous?”

  “Are you deluded?” Her pale face flushed crimson. “You help a couple of saints get away from a fuckless crew of smugglers and suddenly you think they can save our worthless asses and you think I don’t want to get in on it with you because I’m jealous! Get your head out of it, Amerand! This is not about you! Maybe your parents gave everything for you, but the rest of us are out for ourselves. Nothing changes for us! There is no way out and there’s never going to be!”

  And she started down the stairs, at speed. She didn’t look back and she didn’t look up, and I stood there and watched her go.

  I knew I should follow her. I should tell her she was right. The saints would flail about like they always did, and they’d go home, like they always did, and someone would replace Terese Drajeske, and Emiliya and I would still be here, and so would the Blood Family.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t retreat. I had tasted hope. I had seen not only honest action but the fiery joy in it. It was freedom. It was what my parents had been searching for all their lives. It was what my brothers both died trying to hold on to. I was not going to lock myself back in my cage again.

  But I also wouldn’t leave Emiliya alone in here. I would do for her what I had failed to do for myself. I would find her mother. When her family was safe under the Solarans’ asylum, she could go with them.

  I will get you out of here, I swore to the place where she had stood. If I do nothing else right, I will do this.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TERESE

  One of the great advantages of a fragmented network is that it becomes extremely difficult to reach people who do not want to be reached. I was in no doubt that this was done on purpose.

  The luncheon with the “citizens council” was beyond pointless. They were nothing but a group of city nobility hinting genteelly at all the things I could do to help bring their city back to its fallen glory. I smiled. I nodded in sympathy. I ate the excellent food served to me by men and women whose hands were so fragile I was surprised they didn’t break under the weight of the plates.

  The only reason I had come at all was that the Grand Sentinel was also supposed to be there. But shortly after I arrived, I was informed he had returned to Fortress to celebrate the birth of the latest members of the Blood Family. I was told he expressed his regrets and that he had left word that he looked forward to talking to me when I came to Fortress.

  This might even have been true. I’d spent the last twelve hours poring over the records Amerand had gotten me access to, and I’d learned a great deal. Movement was so tightly controlled here that it was a mark of power. The Grand Sentinel’s ships came and went with a frequency unmatched by anyone else in the system. At the same time, I had the feeling there were gaps, big ones, as if the records were tampered with. I shot everything I had to our ships at the habitat, tagged for relay to Misao and the other analysts on the team. I could feel the patterns there, but I couldn’t see them. There was too much else clamoring for my attention.

  Like the feeling that the Grand Sentinel did not give a damn about me, and by extension, the Guardians of the Pax Solaris.

  When I was finally able to make my final bow to the showboat citizens council, I picked my way across the rooftops, past the gardens, the fences, and the secops to Up-sky Station. If I couldn’t question one of the major power players on Dazzle, I’d have to settle for his second. I had no intention of going to Fortress any sooner than I had to.

  Reesethree shone down on me as I ducked beneath the reinforced dome of the foyer and into the heart of the Security outpost, finding a Clerk on reception duty.

  “Field Commander Terese Drajeske to see Commander Favor Barclay.” The Grand Sentinel might have perpetual privileges for flying between the moons, but Barclay was bound to Dazzle, at least according to the records I’d seen.

  The Clerk’s eyes gleamed and he opened his mouth, but I held up my hand. “If he is not here, tell me where he is, and give me specific directions on how to reach him.”

  It’s like dealing with an avatar, I thought exasperatedly. But it worked. “He is at his home,” the Clerk told me, and he did in fact give me the directions I needed.

  I bowed politely. The Clerk did not.

  I turned to head for the door, when it struck me something was missing. I laid my hand on the knob and glanced left, then right. Clerks moved back and forth, attending to their business in their large open workspace.

  But I didn’t see any other uniforms. I was in a Security station with no secops in it.

  I almost turned around, but didn’t. There was no reason a Clerk would tell me the truth. If something had happened to this piece of the power structure, I was much more likely to get an answer from Favor Barclay.

  Favor Barclay’s home was a flat that could only be entered from the walled rooftop garden. Uniformed secops at the door confirmed my ID code and let me in. The stairs were broad and clean. The light was good enough that the series of potted trees on the landings and lining the corridor was lush and verdant. I passed a young woman trimming branches, a baby in a sling on her back.

  Favor Barclay stood at his door, waiting for me. He had dark rings under his bloodshot eyes, and his cheeks were sunken in. Everything I thought I had been coming to learn flew straight out of my head.

  “Please, Commander.” He bowed and stood back, gesturing for me to enter.

  The rooms beyond were spacious, and the first place I had seen on Dazzle where the decorations were intact. Plasterwork rosettes surrounded the bright chandeliers. Gilt trimmed the picture rails and the floorboards. The faux-wood floor was an excellent imitation of the real thing and might even have been artisan-pressed. The furniture was the elegant polished stone and inlaid metal that Dazzle craft-work produced.

  “You must forgive me, Field Commander,” Barclay said, ushering me into the sitting room. He was wearing civilian clothes rather than his uniform, and they were rumpled. “I am the only one here to make you welcome. My wife and the children are…not home.” He picked up a red-and-orange stoneware jug and poured liquid into a matching cup, handing it to me.

  The fumes hit me as I raised the cup. This wasn’t the traditional gift of water. It was moonshine whiskey. I eyed Barclay over the rim. “Has something happened, Commander?”

  He did not look at me. “Yes. Yes, it has.”

  I set the cup down without drinking. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, thank you. It’s my problem. My fault, actually.” He wiped his palms against his black trousers. “But I expect you did not come here to find out about my troubles.”

  “No,” I said softly. What have you done? “I am trying to find out what’s happened to Captain Amerand Jireu.” The fact that I knew was immaterial. If I didn’t look for him, it would seem strange. After all, if I was an honest actor, I would want to be working with my assigned liaison.

  “I don’t know,” said Barclay.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I find that surprising.”

  “Yes, I rather imagine you do.” Then he added very softly, “You’ve never been in a situation where it was better not to see what is going on around you.”

  “Will I be assigned a new liaison, then?” I asked, pretending not to hear.

  “I imagine that will be taken care of.” He continued to stare at his fingers where they rested on the tabletop. The look he gave me was supposed to be one of sympathy—as one person caught in the bureaucracy to another—but it was far too hollow-eyed to achieve its intended effect.

  “Where’s your family, Favor?” I asked.

  The corner of his mouth twitched, and he lifted his head. “Shall I tell you a secret, Field Commander?”

  “If you want.”

  He leaned close in a cold parody of intimacy. I smelled the sour moonshine on his breath. “The Security is currently undergoing a reorganization. It happens now and again. Especially when the water smugglers pull off a coup.”<
br />
  “And have the smugglers pulled off a coup?”

  He lifted his cup. “Your near kidnapping.”

  It made sense. I didn’t believe a word of it.

  “You may have noticed we have been removed from Up-sky Station,” he went on. “We are being redistributed about the city as we are cleared of corruption charges.”

  “And have you been cleared?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Why else would I be able to speak so freely?” He gestured around him, and I saw what else wasn’t there. There was no Clerk.

  Another man with no minder. Another piece that had become irrelevant in the power play. He knew it too. This was the reason for his despair.

  This was bad. This was very bad. But it did mean I could be direct.

  “Tell me who Amerand Jireu is, Commander Barclay,” I said. “Tell me why the Clerks are using him.”

  Barclay’s hand jerked back, and the cup dropped toward the floor, spilling out its contents in thick, sparkling arcs. I swooped my hand out and caught the cup before it hit the floor.

  “Thank you,” he murmured as I handed the cup back to him. His hand shook as he set it down. Stone rattled against stone.

  “I am sorry, Field Commander,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do for you until I have been confirmed in my new position. Whatever it is to be,” he said bleakly to the tabletop.

  “I see,” I said out loud. “Can I ask one more question?”

  “If you must.” He made a small gesture with his hand.

  “Why are you still here?”

  Barclay stood very still for a moment, but I could tell he was taking a second look at me and making a decision.

  He poured a fresh measure of whiskey into his stoneware cup and shot it down with a shudder.

  “I needed to be able to cover my own family’s retreat, just in case,” he said.

  I nodded as if I understood. “Thank you.”

  I bowed to him and he bowed to me. He walked me to the door and closed it behind me. As I walked back up the corridor, past the woman and her baby, the snip-snip of her handmade scissors made a counterpoint to the clack of my bootheels on the floor.