The silence was broken only by the pair of Hjalmar that brought food and water. Neither of them commented on the smashed chair. One picked up the pieces silently and removed them. No replacement chair was brought. He was left free to roam.
Time seemed to stop, after that.
Days later, or perhaps merely hours later, the door opened. There had been no sound of a lock turning and no other warning that it was about to open. It slid down into the sill with a reversed guillotine movement.
Khalil was sitting on the stone floor. He lifted his head and watched the black space beyond. The two Hjalmar did not step through. The woman did.
She was tall, with dark skin and eyes. Sharp brows lifted over the eyes. Her hair sprang from her head as if it had a life of its own and her face was unlined. Even so, there was a look in her eyes and an angle to her square chin that said she was older than she appeared. She wore a modified version of the armored overalls the Hjalmar wore. Hers had no sleeves.
Human, Khalil catalogued.
The door rose back into place as she stood in front of him. Khalil didn’t get up.
“By all means, stay where you are,” she said.
“Okay.”
She smiled. “I am Mesut Traverse. You won’t have heard of me.”
“You’re not Bureau?”
She ignored the question. “I’m told you are a very smart man, Riva—”
“My name is Khalil Ready.”
“—and if you are as smart as they assure me you are, then you will already know why you are here.”
“Surprise me, if you can,” Khalil said.
“The Bureau is pleased with the success of your strategies to infiltrate Bellona Cardenas’ organization, only they now insist upon a status report. One is long overdue.”
“I don’t work for the Bureau anymore. You know that, or you would not have held me here, like this.” He lifted his wrists, to display the shackles.
“Your disavowal of your allegiance to the Bureau is understood. It was a necessary tactic that reassured Bellona Cardenas and built trust—”
Khalil laughed. It was a fake laugh…at first. Then the irony struck him forcibly and he realized the hard, mirthless sound he was making was genuine. His eyes stung, his diaphragm hurt and his head throbbed.
Mesat Traverse did not move. When Khalil had recovered, she spoke as if he had not interrupted. “—trust among her people and allowed you to gather information. That phase is over now.”
“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” he said. “You want me to tell you everything I know about her and her organization. Insisting I still work for you is how you’ll justify whatever you do to get that information.”
“I’m sure you can imagine for yourself what means will be used to extract the data, if you do not cooperate,” Traverse said calmly.
Khalil lifted his hands. “When did the Bureau resort to violence?” he demanded. “Oh, I know perfectly well what you’re hinting at. Torture and psychological manipulations, deprivation and isolation until I give you what I want. None of it is how the Bureau works.”
“I’m not Bureau,” Traverse said firmly. “I am Hjalmar.”
“The Hjalmar are part of the Bureau.”
“Actually, we are independent sub-contractors. I accepted a contract from the Bureau. They care not how the results are obtained, which is why they gave the contract to me.”
Khalil smiled, hiding his dismay. If the Hjalmar had control of him, then none of the Bureau sensibilities would be in play. The Hjalmar were the Bureau’s enforcers for a reason. They did everything the Bureau would not or could not contemplate doing for themselves. Bureau directors slept easily, their consciences clear, while the unpleasant aspects of running the Bureau were orchestrated well out of sight.
“A woman with dark hair and eyes,” Khalil told her. “How convenient. Did they think your appearance would loosen my tongue?”
“I was Eriuman, a long time ago,” she said softly. “That affiliation no longer exists.”
“I was Bureau, a long time ago,” Khalil replied. “That affiliation no longer exists.”
“Then we understand each other,” Traverse said. She nodded. “It is good to get the preliminaries out of the way. I’ll be back, Khalil Ready.”
The use of his real name bothered him. It showed flexibility. Condescension. It made him feel weak by insisting they use it.
He watched her go, knowing she intended to let him stew in his own self-doubt until he was ready for the next phase. It was difficult not to do exactly that.
* * * * *
Eriuman Republic Ship Decimus, Delucas System.
When the officers in the boardroom all snapped to attention, Hecate Hult came perilously close to looking around and over her shoulder to see what senior office had just entered.
She made herself relax. “Sit,” she told them. Then, with a deep breath, she took the big chair at the head of the table and sat down, as they all settled into their own chairs and cleared their throats.
Hult was tempted to begin with “I am as surprised as you to be sitting here,” then realized the truth would not serve her. She had spent the last fifteen years digging for the truth. Now she was the captain of the Decimus. Truth would be bent and distorted to serve the politics that eddied around serving ships and their captains. She was in the main game now.
“You’ll have to watch your back,” Admiral Lucretia Eucleides had warned Hult. “Not only are the other captains going to resent you for being a woman, most of your officers are going to resent that you were promoted over the top of them and took a captain’s chair they thought they were in line for.”
Hecate had not found Eucleides’ observations any help. “I would find it useful to know why I’m being pulled out of the criminal justice division to captain a front-line cruiser. That would help me deal with my officers and the other captains.”
Eucleides smiled. “You were tapped because you deserve it. Your name came to my attention…You were the head of the investigation into the murder of Maximillian Cardenas, weren’t you?”
Hult drew in a hard breath. “Yes, I was,” she said, when she had smothered her reaction enough to speak.
“Someone must have noticed and liked what you did. Your name was given to me for the empty chair. Now it is yours.”
Someone in the Cardenas family? Hult speculated silently. She had spoken to many of the family members, including Bellona the Traitor. No one had thanked her or contacted her once the investigation with its inconclusive summary had been closed. It seemed unlikely the family was the source of her sudden promotion.
She kept her mouth shut, though.
Eucleides gave her a very small smile. “I can put you in the chair, Hult. What you do with it is completely up to you. I can tell you that you will be watched rather more closely than a normal green captain, and you will be judged by harsher standards.”
It was Hult’s turn to return the little smile. “That’s a standard I’ve been judged by since I signed up, Admiral. It doesn’t scare me.”
Eucleides grunted. “Glad to hear it. Go and impress me, Hult. Prove I’m not an idiot for sponsoring your promotion.”
The conversation with Eucleides had taken place only four hours ago. Now Hult was on her ship, facing her own officers.
She looked around the table. “Who here served with Maximillian Cardenas when he was captain of this ship?”
Brows raised. Five hands lifted briefly. Five out of eight.
Hult nodded. “You may or may not know that Max was a friend of mine and on many things, we saw eye to eye, including how to run a ship. I know Captain Jeffers changed a lot of the things that Max put in place. I’m letting you know it’s going to change again. If anyone has any objections to that, speak up now and I’ll find you another post before we leave orbit.”
No one spoke. She saw some of them exchange glances and chose to ignore them. “Very well. You, lieutenant…what is your name?”
“Sto
ry, sir. Lieutenant Story, Engineering.” He was young and flustered. His cheeks were pink. He was also one of the officers who had not served with Max.
“Engineering report, Lieutenant Story. Let’s get this staff meeting done with and move on to more productive work. That’s another thing,” she added. “There will be far fewer meetings, including these twice daily sessions.” She switched her attention back to Story. “Status, Lieutenant.”
She wasn’t sure if she imagined the tiny shift in the atmosphere, a relaxing of the more senior officers. She didn’t worry. They would soon understand she was as keen to complete the Decimus’ assignment as any of them. Perhaps she wanted it even more than them, for finding Bellona Cardenas was a very personal mission for her.
* * * * *
Mycia 489, Mycene System Asteroid Belt. Free Space.
Mesut Traverse returned only hours later and this time she had company.
Khalil watched the boy step into the room from his crossed-legged position on the cold floor and tried not to be concerned. The boy was barely as tall as Traverse, who was not a big woman. He had a thatch of honey blond hair and eyes that were a true, rare blue. His face was passive. He did not seem disturbed by Khalil’s shackles or his position on the floor, although he was definitely human. There was too much life in his eyes and face, despite the passiveness. He was alert, interested and taking in everything around him.
The average Hjalmar processed only enough of their environment to get the job done. Curiosity did not serve them, so it had not been given to them.
“You’re recruiting children now?” Khalil asked, disturbed.
Perhaps the boy was here to make him uneasy. If so, they had correctly analyzed at least one of his pressure points.
Traverse glanced at the boy, who was standing just inside the door, watching Khalil. “Yes, you had a little brother, didn’t you? Benjamin, I believe.”
Khalil swore silently at himself. He was not practiced at interrogation. He was giving Traverse openings and revealing weaknesses.
“This is Dyse,” Traverse said, unexpectedly. “He is an apprentice with the program. He has been assigned to observe our…conversation.”
Dyse nodded.
Traverse crouched down so that her gaze was nearly level with Khalil’s. “You must be tired by now,” she said softly. “Hungry, too, I imagine.”
Khalil shook his head. “Just get on with it, so I can say no and be left alone.”
“Get on with what, Khalil?”
Dyse studied him calmly.
“You’re stepping up the pressure. Last time, you threatened me and that didn’t work. This time, you’re going to try extortion. You are about to threaten everyone I care about with ruin or pain or death, or all of it.”
Traverse linked her hands together. “Would that do any good?” she asked curiously.
Khalil smiled. He couldn’t help glancing at Dyse once more. “My brother is already dead. You can’t touch him. And you will never find Bellona.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Khalil. The Alliance already found her.”
His heart actually squeezed. If they were monitoring his vitals, then he had just told them Traverse had scored a point.
“Who is the Alliance?” he asked, keeping his tone light and curious.
“While you have been a guest here, the Republic and the Homogeny have formally joined forces. One of their cruisers, the Ennius, and the Homogeny Ship Salucci, trapped the wreck she and her people were hiding on.” Traverse smiled. “Your people. My apologies.”
Khalil fought to remain still and not give anything more away. “They didn’t capture them, or we would not be here right now,” he said flatly. “You didn’t say that, so you were trying to scare me into compliance, to save her. You’re going to have to try harder, Traverse, if you want this to work.”
Traverse got to her feet. “Who said anything about compliance?” she said casually.
“You’re not here to drain what I know about Bellona from me,” Khalil said. “There are dozens of ways to extract that sort of factual data from even an unwilling subject. I know five ways and I’m not a professional like you. If I spill my guts, that’s a bonus. Who knows, it may even come as a bonus perk in the contract you signed with the Bureau. What you’re really here for, though, is to bring me back to the Bureau. They want me willing and cooperative. That’s why you’re using a soft approach. It’s also why you’re going along with having a child witness it.”
She stared at the closed door for a moment. “You’re right,” she said, turning on her heel. “They do want you back. Just not as desperately as you seem to think. They’re willing to break a few heads to get you—they acknowledge you are a good asset to acquire. They’re not so desperate to have you they would beggar themselves, though.” She looked at him. “Make no mistake, Khalil. This is the last time I visit when no blood will be shed.”
Khalil kept his gaze locked on hers and hoped his trembling wasn’t visible. “Finish your visit, then.”
She hissed. “You’re right. Bellona got away from the Alliance. I’m surprised the old wreck could even move, yet she managed it. She jumped and will probably hole up in some unknown section of deep space where no ships go. That doesn’t mean we can’t find her. We have our ways, you know that. We found you, after all.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Khalil pointed out. “She is.” He didn’t bother disguising his pride in Bellona’s resourcefulness. She had been right to keep the bridge intact, after all.
“Sooner or later, she’ll have to emerge,” Traverse pointed out. “Supplies, food, a doctor…which I’m told she does not have among her people. Something will force her to emerge, even if it’s simply to engage with her gathering enemies. Then we will have her. If you do not help us, if you do not cooperate, things could go badly for her after that.”
Khalil shrugged. “They’ll go badly no matter what, as her enemies are gathering. It’s interesting the way everyone is circling around her. It’s almost as if they’re afraid of her.”
Traverse didn’t smile, yet her eyes narrowed with amusement. “The pieces are aligning precisely as was predicted, five years ago. Every move and counter-move is inevitable and we have anticipated them all, including your cooperation.”
“I read that prediction, five years ago,” Khalil told her. “Just before I was sent to Kachmar for the Ledan assignment. I also read three other predictions at the same time, about the same subject. One of them said that the leader of the free worlds would destroy all of you, all of this. Guess which one I believed?”
Traverse shook her head. “You will cooperate. You would not let any harm come to her because of your failure. You have let her down once already.”
Khalil’s trembling grew. They seemed to know everything about him. It felt as though they were reaching inside him and twisting his guts, just to see what his reaction would be. He was an experiment, shackled and monitored.
“If you know that,” he said, keeping his voice low to disguise the shaking, “then you must know that she has never forgiven me for it. I have nothing to lose here, Traverse. Go after her. Do your worse. Then I will have the pleasure of dancing on your crypt.”
Traverse scowled. “You think they do not have other figureheads they can use? She is just one of them, Riva. You would sacrifice her just to be right? If I walk out that door, two Hjalmar units will be dispatched immediately to take care of her.”
Khalil laughed. It was hard to do, yet he managed it. “Please, just try it,” he begged. His voice came out hoarse because his throat was so dry.
Traverse hissed and stalked out of the room. Dyse followed. The door had almost slid shut again when it reversed and sank back down into the floor. Dyse stepped in.
He was carrying a big cup of chilled water, with condensation forming beads on the side.
Khalil’s throat clicked as he swallowed. There was no point pretending he was indifferent to the sight of the liquid. They could read his hydration le
vels for themselves. He didn’t fool himself they were not precisely tracking and orchestrating his comfort levels for maximum impact.
“Is this where you stand in front of me and drink the water?” he asked the boy, his voice rasping.
Dyse came close to him and held out the cup.
Khalil didn’t reach for it. He couldn’t understand what the catch would be. If he raised his hands, would Dyse then snatch it away? Was the water poisoned? Drugged?
“Drink some of it,” he whispered.
Dyse took a mouthful and swallowed. “It is just water,” he said. He had a pleasant voice. He held the cup out again.
Khalil raised his bound hands slowly, waiting for something to happen. He got his fingers around the cup. Dyse didn’t lash out. He just handed over the cup.
Khalil drank deeply. The first mouthful hurt as it went down.
“Why do you resist Traverse?” Dyse asked. It was a simple question, his tone curious.
“Because she represents people who are trying to reduce my freedom. So do you.”
Dyse didn’t seem upset by the judgement. “The Bureau is benign.
It works for the longevity of the galaxy. It has the resources to know what is best for you. Why do you not listen to it?”
Khalil drained the cup. “You really believe the directors of the Bureau are wise and benevolent?”
“Why would they not be what they profess to be?”
“Because they’re human,” Khalil told him. “They have weaknesses. Desires and selfish motivations. Even kind motives can be twisted. Look at yourself. You brought me water. You put Traverse’s interrogation back by hours as a result.”
Dyse took the cup from him. “You think they will punish me for that?”
“What do you think? They’re your people.” Khalil shook the shackles. “This is what they do. And you want to become one of them.”
Dyse considered the shackles for a long moment. Then he turned and left and the door shut behind him.
Khalil bowed his head and hoped they could not detect the fear in him.
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