“Yeah?” Meek was eyeing him. He had to make it good. “I’m on loan for humanitarian purposes. We’ve got a load of water to shift.” Vijay flexed his arms. Around him, the crew grinned.
The Clerk did not even seem to see. “I have no authority for your addition to this work crew.”
Vijay stuck his hand in his pants pocket and pulled out the faked manifest Meek had entrusted him with. “Right here, along with the cargo.” He stabbed his finger at the appropriate line. “ ‘One port assistant.’ That’s me.”
The Clerk took the manifest and stared at it. Her eyes did not move back and forth like a person reading. She just stared.
And she blinked. “There is no specific identification code given.”
Vijay groaned, but the other strongarms remained silent. Not only that, but they were starting to edge away from him.
Meek was the only one who moved in closer. “Is there a problem?”
The Clerk lifted her blank, unseeing eyes toward him. “I am uncertain.” She tilted her face down toward the manifest again. Vijay’s heart skipped a beat.
I can’t miss this. This could answer everything. We could get out early, get Siri back home…
“Keep up the act, Vijay. You’re just another bored bastard. Come on. No slips.”
Vijay folded his arms and glowered at the Clerk. She brushed her fingers across the manifest one more time.
“It is allowable.” She handed the sheet across to Meek. “You may continue.”
“Thank you, Seña.” Meek bowed but gave Vijay a sour look as he did. Vijay shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to shoot a companionable eye roll to his fellow strongarms.
Not one of them showed the least sign of being on his side.
“Just walk, Vijay.”
Yeah. Good idea.
A partition blocked off one of the loading elevators. Most of the space behind it was taken up by battered steel cylinders, about the size of a man’s torso. They were piled there without any order, as if they had been hastily unloaded and left.
“All right,” said Meek. “We need to get these”—he stabbed his finger at the canisters—“onto these”—he stabbed at a pile of empty cargo pallets—“and into there.” The final stab was to the open doors of the air lock and the cargo elevator beyond. “Questions?”
No one said anything. Meek nodded. “Then go. And Papa Dare will be coming ’round to check the work, so I suggest you all get busy.”
Vijay looked at the strongarms and they looked at him. Two peeled off and headed for the pallets. Each man pulled one off the stack and tossed it onto the port-yard stone with a rattle and a thud. The third stationed himself next to the canisters, and Vijay walked into place beside him, yanking his gloves out of his back pocket as he did.
“What’er those?” asked the wank next to the canisters.
“They’re called gloves,” grunted Vijay as he pulled them on. “I could spell that for you, if you could read.”
“Ooo-ooo.” The wank wiggled his fingers. “Our widdle saint might hurt his widdle finger. Maybe you get Mommy to kiss it all better…”
“Shut your hole,” snapped Meek. “And get with the job.”
The wank shut it, but the look he gave Vijay said they were not done with this little exchange of pleasantries. He grabbed up a canister and tossed it to Vijay. It landed awkwardly in his hands, and the contents sloshed hard.
“And here’s one,” remarked Took as Vijay heaved the can to the next man on the line.
One million to go.
Almost anywhere else, this would have been done by machines: forklifts, pallet handlers, driven by humans or remote control. On Dazzle, however, working machinery was rare, and expensive. People, on the other hand, were cheap, plentiful, and easily replaced if they failed to perform. Papa Dare believed in keeping his overhead low.
Vijay felt Meek and the Clerk watching him, but he had to keep his attention on the cargo, which the wank was heaving over as fast as he could.
Doesn’t matter who’s watching, as long as they don’t take the gloves.
The real problem with the dependence on human labor was that the more people you needed for a job, the more people you must let near your secrets.
Like whatever was really sloshing around in the canisters.
The gloves on Vijay’s hands were special, battered-looking versions of his uniform gloves. They were armored. They had a communication pad and a camera. They also had tiny scanning spectrometers in them. It was, after all, a very useful thing for a spy to be able to find out what was inside a box (or an envelope, or a can) without having to open it.
All the hardware meant the gloves were hot enough to make his palms sweat, and the radiators in the spectrometers weren’t doing his skin and bones any good at all. Vijay gritted his teeth as the Big Wank tossed him another can and he swung it to the next man in the line.
In fact, they were starting to hurt like hell.
“Just gotta get this one answer,” said Took.
Get the answer, then we can blow this entire fuckless system and get Siri out of here.
“Wassamatter, Little Saint?” laughed the Big Wank. “Maybe I should come over and kiss dat widdle fingee for ’oo.”
“Maybe you should suck my big dickee for me,” muttered Vijay. He would have said it louder, but Meek was eye-balling him, and now was not the time.
They filled one pallet. They filled two, three, four. Vijay lost count. It was too hot in the yard, and the burn on his hands did not let up. The scanners had to get through the metal. They had to cross-check and verify the findings. That took a lot of internal processing, and internal processing generated heat, as did the scans themselves.
A dozen pallets. Two.
“Hang on, Vijay,” said Took from the back of his mind.
Hanging. But remind me not to put the damn things on so early next time.
“Experience is a bitch.”
You got that right.
Three dozen pallets.
Took?
“Right here, Vijay.”
If my fingers are blistered to the bone when I take these things off, it’s going to look funny.
“It’s not that bad.”
You sure about that?
“It’s the weight and the motion. And in case you hadn’t noticed the Big Wank there has been trying to make you miss for the last hundred throws.”
And here I thought I was a whiny little wimp.
“Not yet. I’ll warn you if you get there.”
Thanks.
“Anytime.”
It took another hour, but at last, the final canister was strapped onto the final pallet. Vijay stripped off his gloves. Took, of course, was right. His hands were red, and they hurt like he’d been sunburned, but there was no obvious sign of the burning he’d felt.
There was, however, a faint readout on the palm of the right glove. Over by the ship, the toughs and the wanks slapped each other on the back and eyed Meek, who was tugging on pallet straps and looking for all the world like a genuine straw boss. Vijay smoothed out the glove, and glanced down to see what he’d been loading for the past three hours.
H2O.
Vijay wiped his forehead and glanced up to make sure no one was paying any attention to him. He looked at the glove again.
H2O.
A few trace chemicals—a little more salt than there should be—but no poison, no manufactured nanos. Habitat 3 was being stuffed to the gills with cans of water.
And Meek had even told him so. A floating ocean, he’d said.
Vijay stared, and the slick, sick sensation of failure slid across his skin.
“Decoy?” suggested Took.
Has to be. Shit. Well, okay, now we eliminate Papa Dare and his smuggling operation, and start looking for what’s really going on. No big deal. False start.
“We’ve seen our share of those.”
Oh, yeah. And ordinarily it wouldn’t have bothered him, but this time…this ti
me they needed to get Siri out of here, away from whatever was getting to her so badly.
“Preferably without your having to ask Terese to declare her unfit.”
Yeah.
“Can’t stand here, Vijay,” said Took urgently. “Got to get this word home.”
Right. He straightened up and stuffed the gloves in his back pocket as he walked toward the partition.
Vijay was absolutely unsurprised it was his friend and colleague the Big Wank who shouted, “Where you going, Little Saint?”
Vijay jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Gotta take a leak.”
“Use the corner if you can’t wait for launch,” called Meek from his station by the pallets. “Nobody gets out of sight. Papa Dare’s personal orders.”
“Awww, come on!” Vijay threw up his hands. “I didn’t sign up for this to turn into a pig,” he said directly to the Big Wank, who did not miss it.
“You calling me a pig?” Big Wank straightened up. Which showed he had some kind of balls. Vijay had at least six inches on the guy and probably seventy-five pounds.
But the Big Wank had friends, and two of the other strongarms slouched into place behind him, their menacing eyes fastened on Vijay.
“Well, you started this,” remarked Took.
Yeah. “Maybe I’m calling your mother a pig,” he said to the Big Wank.
Wank swung straight for his throat, but Vijay was ready for it. He got his arm up in time to block the blow and drove his other fist hard into the Wank’s solar plexus. Wank doubled over with a satisfying grunt, and Vijay kicked his ankles out from under him, laying him out on the stone.
“What the fuckless are you doing!” bellowed Meek, and Vijay took off running.
He stretched his long legs for all they were worth. In the light gravity and open space he practically flew. He forgot his pain, almost forgot he had four bad-ass, angry strong-arms on his tail, and just ran.
“Whoooo-hooo!” shouted Took for him.
“Get that gate shut!” bellowed Meek. “He’s robbing me!”
A shot whizzed past Vijay’s head. The secops were hauling the gate closed. Another shot went off, and the gate stopped moving.
“What the hells!” shouted one of the secops. He yanked at the bars, but the gate didn’t move. Vijay grabbed the secop by the shoulders and tossed him backward, right into Wank’s little mob.
Vijay flew through the gate just in time to see Siri swing herself over the balcony and drop down onto the bridge underneath.
Siri? What’s she doing here?
“Saving your ass.”
She had her gun on her back, and now he knew what held the gate open for him.
“She always was a wicked good shot.”
Oh, yeah!
Grinning fiercely, Vijay dove over the rail and landed on the balcony underneath. Wincing at the pain in his palms, he swung off the rail like a kid on the monkey bars and dropped down another level. The bystanders screamed and ducked, and there was cursing and shouting, but it quickly grew distant. Siri led him on, hopping from bridge to bridge until she finally ducked into a sagging doorway.
She can’t be too far gone. She’s still with the program and Terese let her out armed…
“Run now. Think later.”
Pumped full of hope and adrenaline, Vijay darted into the warrenlike building and tore down the corridor, following Siri to the back stairs.
“He’s coming, Siri.”
I hear him.
Siri crouched in the blackness of the unused subway tunnel.
She hadn’t meant to save the construct. She’d just meant to shadow it and find a place where she could meet it, like she would have done if it really had been Vijay, then work out a way to lure it down here.
But this was even better than she had planned. This way, it followed her without asking any questions.
Just like Vijay would have done. Siri swallowed around the lump in her throat.
A shadow blocked the entranceway above. Siri lifted her head. The construct didn’t bother with the stairs. It hung over the rail and dropped, landing lightly on his toes.
Oh, very good.
“You can’t talk to it, Siri. You can’t give it a chance to get to you.”
I know.
The construct looked around, but she was hidden in the darkness of the tunnel mouth and its eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. It moved out of the light, into the space under the stairs, putting its back against the wall.
Doesn’t want anything sneaking up behind it.
Siri drew a bead on the construct and fired. The epoxy hit it square on the left shoulder, jerking it backward and sealing it to the wall.
“What the hell!” it cried out. Her second shot got its right hand before it could twist out of the way. One more shot, and its boots were sealed to the floor.
Siri slung the gun over her shoulder and stepped forward, into the light.
“Siri?” it said, and a good imitation of Vijay’s confusion creased its scarred face. “Siri, what’s going on?”
She didn’t answer. Shawn was right. She mustn’t talk to it.
“Come on, Siri, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
It still had one hand free and it grabbed for her as she approached, but she caught its arm. With one twist, its elbow popped. She dropped the arm, which flopped and dangled uselessly, as the construct gasped in pain.
She cocked her head, listening carefully. There. She heard a buzzing in its throat. Of course. In its throat, behind its ear. That was where the container would be.
She pulled out the knife she’d brought for the purpose.
“I’ll get you out, Vijay. Don’t worry, lover.”
She brought up the blade and the construct screamed.
“Siri!”
Siri jerked around. Another shadow emerged, from the other end of the tunnel. Siri crouched into a ready stance, but she couldn’t get the gun up without dropping the knife. The shadow raised empty hands.
“It’s Terese!”
“Field Commander.” Siri straightened to attention, then suspicion hit her. “How did you know where I’d be?”
“I didn’t. I had to guess where you’d bring something you needed to keep safe, since you abandoned your post without notice.” Terese’s voice grew sharp. “You want to explain to me why I shouldn’t chew you out for going AWOL?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid… “I was going to tell you, as soon as I got Vijay out. I know you need proof…”
Behind her, the construct panted through clenched teeth. Terese gave it a quick glance. “You’re right, I do,” she said. “But I do see how important this is.”
Siri sagged with relief. “You understand what’s really going on, then?”
“Most of it. Some of it’s not so clear.”
“That’s okay. I can explain the rest, just as soon as I get Vijay out.” She raised the knife again and turned toward the construct.
“Siri, wait. I want to get Dr. Gwin to take care of the surgery. It’s what we brought her for, after all. If we do this too quickly, we risk hurting Vijay.”
Siri froze. Her gaze darted from the knife to the construct. It cringed back.
“You’re right, you’re right. I should have thought.” Siri pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “It’s been so hard these past few days. It’s been just me and Shawn.”
Terese laid a hand on Siri’s shoulder. “You’re lucky you have Shawn.”
“Yeah.” Siri looked up at her commander and smiled. “I shouldn’t complain, I guess. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Terese slapped her back. “Listen, I’ve got Gwin and her team up top. Let me bring them down to help secure this.” She nodded toward the construct. “And we’ll all get back to base.”
Siri could not believe her ears. “You’ve got to get Vijay out of there now! I’m not sure how much longer he’ll last!”
“We’ve got to get him into a sterilized space for the surgery,” Terese reminded her. “We d
on’t know what kind of infection an organic container could transmit down here.”
“She has a point.”
I know, but I don’t like it. “We need to hurry. Vijay’s voice is getting weaker.”
“I know. Believe me.” Terese stepped into the spotlight. “We’re clear!” she called up the stairs.
Dr. Gwin was the first one down. The spiral skeleton of the stairway swayed under the force of her pounding footsteps. Two assistants followed, carrying a padded stretcher between them. Terese handed Gwin a set of release capsules, then she turned back to Siri.
“We’re going to find out what happened here, Siri. I swear we are.”
“We know what happened,” Siri answered. “At least most of it. Once we get Vijay out, there’s just one or two things I need to con…”
The drug finally hit, melting the world into a blur of color, and the last thing Siri saw was Terese leaning over her, the needle still in her hand and tears welling up in her eyes.
THIRTY-TWO
AMERAND
The yard and lobby of Common Cause house were as busy as ever when I walked in, and as usual, Liang was in the thick of it with Orry Batumbe. The saints stood shoulder to shoulder, both reading from a thick pile of sheets Liang held.
I waited for Liang to glance up. His gaze slid over me at first. Then he stopped and looked again, taking in the fact that I was in uniform, and alone. Beside him Orry Batumbe drew back, clearly far less certain about what he was seeing than his superior.
“If you’re looking for Field Commander Drajeske, she left a couple of hours ago,” said Liang. “I don’t know where.” He did not bother to disguise his anger at this fact.
I ignored that. “You’re the one I’d like to speak with, Seño Chen.”
Liang frowned but handed off the sheets to Batumbe. We walked down to his office. I followed, as silent as a Clerk, until he’d closed and latched his door behind us. I’d always wondered about that latch. It looked like it wouldn’t stop a determined child, but I had a distinct feeling it knew exactly who came and went from this place.
“Are you all right, Amerand?” Liang asked me, and I think he really wanted to know.
I nodded. “More or less. But I need a favor.”
Bitter Angels Page 32
