Aurora

by Mark W. Tiedemann

  Corf's records showed no batch numbers, no tracking codes, nothing that would give Mia anything to trace back though legitimate channels. She requested a cross-reference by date from her own records. Her datum told her to wait, that it had to access external files.

  'While you're at it," she muttered, tapping in new instructions, "check if anyone else made similar requests to Corf." Almost as an afterthought, she activated one of her personal encryption routines, which she knew would slow the process considerably. But these were now command-level people, even though Jons was only a lieutenant Mia could not know where her trace might take her, and she did not want anyone tracing back to her until she got what she wanted

  WORKING

  Mia shrugged out of her jacket and went to her locker. She pulled out one of the bound volumes and settled down to wait.

  She glanced at the spine: War and Peace. She grunted. What else is there? she wondered sardonically, and opened the book.

  9

  DEREC ENTERED the Wysterids Grand Parlor at the last minute before departure. He had intended to stay sequestered in his cabin, disinterested in the actual vista of leaving, and leery of the celebratory gathering traditional upon casting off. But he disliked self-pity more than self-abuse and, with little time to spare, found himself sprinting down the corridors.

  The Grand Parlor sprawled beneath a dense canopy permeated with photoenhancers interlaced with polarized particle-deflectors to shield the guests from radiation. The enhancers adjusted the resulting filtered light to add back the parts of the color spectrum occluded by the shielding. It was an expensive and temporary vanity, used twice during a voyage like this, once at the beginning and again at the end, so everyone could view docking if they wished by the "actual" light of the new sun. Derec thought it a ridiculous idea, since even then some of that light was lost due to the filtering, so what was being watched was no more authentic no more real-than if they all watched on screens.

  Tables rimmed the roughly teardrop-shaped chamber, bearing a bewildering array of foods-Terran, Spacer, and Settler. Drifting from one part to another took him through aromatic mixtures that inspired everything from ravenous hunger to mild nausea. Clusters of passengers tended to gather around their cuisine of choice, leaving unpeopled gaps all across the deck.

  Derec wandered across these empty places, looking alternately at the guests and up at the view.

  The view . . . Impressive, he thought grudgingly. If I were "ng this u0ingly, I might say spectacular ...

  At one time in the distant past, Kopernik Station might have been a triple ring configuration. But the additional components, new sections, expanded docks, warehousing environs, entire smaller stations attached, and the new construction-for purposes which Derec could only guess--obscured nearly all trace of that early design, turning it into the imitation-organic agglomerate he now saw through the Wysterids Grand Parlor canopy. Perhaps an archaeohistorian could see the faint shadow of the original construction through all the growth, but if he had not known in the first place, Derec could never have imagined it.

  The starship moved away from Kopernik at a considerable speed, so that the station shrank visibly, giving more view of the iffimitable space around it.

  "How does it make you feel?'

  Derec started at the familiar voice and looked around. Ariel stood beside him, staring up. She held a glass in her left hand. After a moment, her free hand found his. She laced her fingers through his and for several seconds kept a gentle pressure, palm heel to palm heel. The moment passed, and she released his hand.

  "What deck are you on?'

  'Twelve, forward," Derec said

  "One below mine. At least they didn't put us back with the group rates."

  'They wouldn't dare."

  Ariel smirked. "No? Setaris couldn't wait to get me out of the embassy. If the only flight available had been as cargo . .

  "Is Hofton with you?'

  "No, unfortunately. Setaris retained him. She knows talent when she sees it."

  "Too bad- I like Hofton."

  Ariel lapsed into silence, and Derec felt a mounting frustration, unable to think of anything further to say. He wished he had thought to get a glass so he could at least have something to occupy the awkward lull.

  "Shit," Ariel whispered.

  Derec followed her gaze across the Parlor. At first he saw nothing that might have caused Ariel's reaction. He started to ask her what she had seen when a face caught his eye.

  "You're kidding," he said.

  "When I arrived at Union Station," Ariel said, "there was a mob protesting him. I had no idea lie was traveling with- us."

  Former Senator Clar Eliton stood with a small group of Spacers-Keresians, by the look of their clothing, heavy in the Solarian manner-carrying on an apparently lively conversation. He laughed, gestured-it was easy, even at a distance, to understand Eliton's political success. Derec pointedly began walking the other way.

  Ariel caught up to him in moments.

  'I take it you don't wish to see him, either?' she asked

  'I cant think why I would-`

  "Oh~ no reason at all to avoid him. He only lost you your company, got both of us in trouble with the TBI, nearly fomented a diplomatic break between Earth and Aurora ... nothing to hold a grudge about."

  "He did lose his senate seat"

  'To someone who has turned out to be just as rabidly anti-Spacer as apparently he was."

  "But more honest and open about it," Derec said sardonically.

  They reached a buffet table. Derec looked at her. She maintained a serious expression for a few seconds longer, then laughed- Derec felt his own face pull into a grin.

  "So we're agreed," he said, reaching for a glass of champagne. "Eliton's an ass."

  "We are, indeed, agreed." She controlled herself and cleared her throat. "We probably cant avoid him for the entire trip."

  "No."

  "Should we agree on anything before we talk to him?'

  Derec shrugged- "What's he doing here, anyway?'

  "You probably won't believe me."

  "Take a chance."

  "He's been appointed ambassador to Solaria."

  Derec found a pastry on one of the trays and raised it slowly to his mouth- "You're right, I don't believe you."

  "Think about it, though. What worse thing could they do to him? Solaria itself will be purgatory for a man like him. Almost no direct contact with another human being; living in a large domicile with a huge staff of robots, cut off from the mainstream of Earth-Aurora politics. The position of Chief Legate to Solaria is less than a token post, since Solaria conducts all its diplomatic business through the D.C. mission." Ariel smiled at him with mock innocence. "They're sending him to hell."

  "Hm. The robots alone will drive him mad- On second thought, maybe I do believe you. They found him innocent-well, they acquitted him, not quite the same thing-of collusion and conspiracy and then didn't have anything else to try him on. He still has a constituency. I suppose that was a worry. What if he did manage to get reelected? This is possibly the best way to minimize his potential for mischief and effectively end his career." He nibbled on the pastry. "Who else hates him besides everybody?'

  "You did know Chassik was recalled.

  "Yes."

  "Did you know he's dead?'

  "What?,,

  "His ship was attacked en route to Solaria and destroyed."

  Derec stared at her. "That's been kept quiet."

  "Yes, it has. I'm wondering if Eliton's post has something to do with Chassik's meddling-something he set up before he left."

  "You still think Chassik was involved directly in the massacre at Union Station."

  "He evidently was involved with Alda Mikels and several others in running baleys. Proof, though? No, we never had enough. Except for his involvement with the Nova Levis affair." She shook her head- "I feel so cheated. I cant follow up any of my suspicions from Aurora."

  'And now you'll never know."


  "Mmm." She went through the motions of selecting something to eat, then abandoned everything for another glass of amber liquid. "Speaking of robots, what became of Bogart?'

  "He's on board."

  "You're bringing it back to Aurora?''

  Derec nodded, his stomach tightening. "He's partially functional again. I've been rebuilding his body. Remember the DW--12we had to excavate for Lanra?'

  "Yes," Ariel said tightly.

  'Thales loaded a composite template into it after we'd retrieved and stored its memories."

  "Bogard-your state-of-the-art, multitalented, virtually free-willed machine--is inhabiting the robotic body of a dock worker?'

  "Its not quite that limited, but essentially, yes."

  "This was Thales' idea?'

  "Surprised me, too. Thales is on board as well. I want to get them both into a decent lab for a complete analysis."

  Ariel looked pale and angry. "I'm not sure I like that idea."

  "I didn't think you would."

  There was a stretch of silence between them. Derec surveyed the crowd, searching for Eliton. The former senator had slipped out of sight.

  "Oh~ well," Ariel said finally. "It might actually come in useful.,,

  Derec glanced at her, looking for irony, but she seemed sincere. "I ... could use your help on it."

  "We'll see." She gestured toward the vast display. The conversation was over.

  Derec joined her and many other watching the diminishing Kopernik become more and more toylike in the distance, Earth now a nearly full sphere to the right of it, as the ship picked up speed steadily on its way to the jump point well outside the solar system, above the plane of ecliptic.

  Coren arrived a quarter hour before the formal reading began. As he strolled among the gathered guests, he exchanged quiet greetings with those he knew. He recognized the other as primarily board members of DyNan. Two women sitting off by themselves he remembered as cousins by way of Rega's deceased wife. He nodded politely to them, but Coren had never been comfortable with Rega's relatives except for Nyom. Neither family had been large, but it often surprised Coren just how small a circle held Rega's private life.

  Lio Top stood with two other L)yNan attorneys. Coren made a slow circuit and ended up joining them. Lio gave him a solemn nod and introduced him to the other two, whom he knew of but had never formally met.

  "Excuse us, please," Lio said then, and took Coren's arm and led him away.

  "Interesting stuff," Coren said. 'The disk."

  I wouldn't know," Lio said. "We have something of a wrinkle tonight."

  "What?'

  'An heir has come forward."

  ,An heir,

  I don't know any more than that. I received a communiqu6 from a private attorney early this morning that a Looms heir is going to step forward to challenge any facet of the will which does not expressly recognize him."

  Coren felt a chill begin in his chest and spread quickly. "That's impossible," he said.

  "I'm inclined to agree, but we have to wait and see who this is."

  .1-2' Coren snapped his mouth closed, drawing a sharp look from Lio.

  "Do you know something' she asked. "Was there something in that disk I gave you?'

  "We should wait. The situation may well solve itself."

  I don't understand."

  "Later."

  "Coren-2'

  'Trust me," he insisted- "Later."

  He stepped away from Lio before she could try to draw him out.

  One of the other attorneys stepped to the small podium at the front of the room and pressed a button that produced a chime. The assembled guests took seats and soon an orderly quiet presided.

  "I believe everyone is here," said the attorney, an older man with sharp silver streaks through his dark red hair. '-we can begin. I am Tann Bershem, executor for Mr. Looms. It was my summons that brought you all here. His last will and testament is a rather lengthy document with a great many provisions and exceptions. My staff and I have been over it for possible weaknesses and, by the power vested in me by the late Rega Looms, we've made such corrections as are consistent with current law "

  The doors behind Coren and the other guests opened- He heard at least three pairs of footsteps enter. Bershem stared, clearly startled.

  'The reading has formally begun," he said. "I'll have to ask you to leave."

  'That wouldn't be a good idea," a dry, almost whispering voice said- Coren felt a chill cascade from his scalp down his neck and over his shoulders. "You'd be ill-advised to conduct this reading in the absence of Rega Looms' son."

  Coren heard people turning in their chain and the sudden burble of stranded comments. He did not want to look. He knew.

  Standing very tall at the rear of the room, flanked by two people who came only to his shoulders, Gamelin surveyed the guests with a faint smile. He did not took quite the same--his complexion was much improved, his color, while still not normal, was no longer so gray, and, dressed in a tailored suit with an expensive cloak falling from broad shoulders, he seemed almost elegant.

  No, that was unfair-he was elegant now. Coren remembered his last encounter with the cyborg, and the fear and pain and ugliness of it all, and it distorted his perceptions of the being he now saw. Gamelin was remade; still slightly inhuman, but no more so than some Terrans who imitated Spacers as a fashion.

  But it was still an imitation.

  Gamelin made an impression. Coren glanced at the others and saw expressions of suspicion and fear, expectation and anticipation, appreciation and interest-but underlying all of it was awe.

  When he looked back, Coren found Gamelin staring directly at him. For an instant, they locked eyes. Then the cyborg smiled and looked toward the podium.

  I am Jerem Looms," Gamelin said- I can produce any proofs required to establish my claim as the son of Rega Looms. A DNA scan should be sufficient, but I can give you my entire, rather pathetic life history if you wish. Suffice it to say, however, that I'm here for what's mine. Fm not leaving till I get it."

  Coren watched Gamelin work his way through the guests. The reading suspended, the gathering turned into a kind of salon. Everyone wanted to know about the long lost scion and, it seemed to Coren, Gamelin was making converts; he saw too many smiles among the anxious, soon-to-be sycophants.

  "Did you know about this?' Lio asked

  "I knew about him, " Coren replied. "I had no idea he'd have the nerve to do this."'

  'Where did he come from? Damn it, a son! Who knew?'

  "Riega did-YP

  "Was this part of the disk?'

  "Rega's first child," Coren said, "was a boy--him-who turned out to be a UPD child."

  'UPD... ?'

  "Untreatable Physiological Dysfunction. Chronic, usually fatal disorders stemming from compromised immune systems, infection with one-of-a-kind pathogens, bad genetic coding--anything they couldn't cure. Apparently, it was-hell, is-a stigma. Rega went through all the doctors, then signed the infant over to a hospice. Standard procedure then is for records to be sealed and the child disappears. Most die."

  "Rega never admitted it to anyone?'

  "No. How could he? One of the things he tried, to save his child's life, was help start a prosthetics R & D firm. How would that play with the directors of the Church? His whole life since then had been devoted to opposing technology like that."

  "So I gather the firm failed."

  "I don't know. Did it?' He nodded toward Gamelin.

  Lio stared. "Something's wrong with him. He looks ... dead."

  "He should be."

  "So you believe his claim?'

  'When you check his DNA you will find it sufficient match to stand up in any court"

  "But-He's coming this way."

  Gamelin made his way through the clumps of people and stopped before Coren and Lio.

  "Good to see you, Mr. Lanra," the cyborg said

  "You sound better, Gamelin," Coren said. "Surgery?'

  "Quite a bit
. My name is Jerem--as you so helpfully pointed out.

  "It wasn't intended to help."

  Gamelin continued to smile, but his eyes were fierce and resentful. "How's the arm?'

  "Better."

  "Surgery?'

  "Quite a bit."

  'Well, good. I just thought I'd come over to say thank you for pointing me in the right direction."

  "It was entirely unintentional."

  'And to tell you that when I succeed my father as Chairman of the Board and President of DyNan Manual Industries, my first act will be to fire you. I hope your resume is up-to-date."