by Lindsay Peet
CHAPTER TWELVE
When you do the kind of work I do you know that, sooner or later, somebody is likely to get hurt. Now it had happened, and for once I didn’t feel much like talking. When we returned to Caliuga City it was late afternoon, and Wanliet and I shuffled straight to our old chambers, leaving the mayor and his head of security (Sirah) to explain what had happened to anybody who gave a damn. I soaked and showered and soaked again, but I just felt bad, dead-weary in body mind and soul. During my ablutions my clothes were taken, and it was a good thing, as between the sweat of terror and the blood of others I wanted nothing to do with them. I would never wear the uniform of the adjutant again.
I barely touched my meal, and was turning and twisting bleary and weary and beaten on my bed when I lifted my eyes and beheld Sirah, noiseless as a vision. Silently she undressed and curled up next to me and she held me and I her, and I began weeping again. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I wasn’t supposed to be responsible for people’s deaths, they were just supposed to get fleeced a bit, get frustrated and angry, maybe even punch somebody. But two dozen dead? Likely more to come? Slowly Sirah’s caresses turned from soothing to arousing, and my dread of oblivion turned into a riotous affirmation of life. Coarse, I know, like screwing on a grave, but that’s what happened. And it was glorious.
“Now what?” we asked each other, then smiled because our thoughts were synched up, apparently through our bodies and our shared experiences of the past days. Even though the shared thought was merely, “Now what?”, it confirmed to us we weren’t alone in this mess. Humans are always looking for connections, links, patterns, I remembered, and then saw that oocaine, and zoocaine even, helped us to sense these links. That was their draw, and part of Gurjoo’s appeal. Nobody wants to feel alone. Maybe that was all there was to Aspe’s gambit – she’d linked up with Sirah and feared losing that connection.
There’s nothing like a near-death experience, carnage, and coitus to clear cobwebs from the mind and help us see the greater point of all our struggles. We all know this, down deep, but prefer to skip straight to the last part. I’m not so sure the enlightenment was worth the sacrifice, but it’s all I had to offer.
“Now what?” we repeated, and smiled again, which was okay, because we needed smiles more than answers just then. “Sirah, you know Solip City and the P. U. ways better than I do; how do you think they’ll react to what happened? And how long do you think it will take them to find out?”
Smiling time was done. “They likely had a radio man watching from behind on another speeder, and he’s already sent word ahead of An-Tuin. Not the particulars, but the disaster part. They’ll have to ‘double-down’ now, because the news will ruin their well-burnished image of competence and control, and that’s what they’ve been selling. Also, because they’re not the forgiving type. If they thought they needed you out of the way before, nothing’s happened to change that.”
“Sirah, I guess this might be the time to tell you the truth. You know some of it – Wanliet’s no Inspector General, I’m no adjutant. I’m just a space-bum orphan, Wanliet’s a treasure-hunter, and we’re both on the run from a bad, bad guy, and we ended up on your planet.
“Sirah, If I’d known about you from the first, about how marvelous you are, I would have done things differently, but now it’s too late,” I continued. “It’s all a mess, Wanliet and I screwed up bad and there’s gonna be a shitstorm hittin’ your little town – er, city. If the Inspector General and I remain here, they’ll come after Caliuga City with everything they’ve got. I’m not sure what they have left, but it won’t be pretty.”
“Jaf, my people left Old Caliuga generations ago because we wanted to live the way we wanted to live. Maybe it’s just been stubbornness that’s kept us out of the P. U., or maybe we’re just smarter than everybody else, but don’t worry on our account. We’re used to risking things, pushing ahead, having faith in our God and our efforts to understand Him. This is a new threat, but it’s not like we haven’t been able to handle threats before. You come here for a couple of weeks and think everything’s always been running smooth, but it hasn’t, never for long, leastways. Life isn’t like that. And, as for you being a fraud – I knew that from the first. You think I believed that ‘big ball’ story? Nobody did, including my dad; we wanted to get under the P.U.’s skin.”
“Like tapping at a keystone,” I said, half to myself. This all took a bit to digest – where people of the Empire would be suing for peace with the P. U., or its proxies, here was a voice of confidence and faith. But I knew that many would be hurt, some killed, and thinking that this wonderful soul beside me might be one that might leave its body troubled me. Touching Sirah, smelling her, gazing on her, were all so much of what brought me happiness, peace, and hope. My desire to be near, always, fought with my desire to see her unhurt, able to live long and enjoy a future, even if it wasn’t with me. “Sirah, I think it’s best that Wanliet and I leave. Once we’re gone the P. U. will have no reason to attack you. All this will blow over.”
She shook her head. “Leave if you want, but don’t believe this will blow over. The P. U. can’t allow us to thrive without them. One way or another, our prosperity puts the lie to their program. It was always coming to this, you just were the spark. Leave if you want, but don’t do it for me. Don’t you dare to pretend you’re doing it for me.”
“Isn’t it worth taking the chance? After all, we can always come back, later. Or, you can come with us! You’d do great in the Empire, trust me, you’ve got everything it takes to make it anywhere!”
More head-shaking. “I believe you. And I believe that you believe you. But I can’t abandon my home now, to run off with you. I understand you were an orphan, and maybe you don’t feel the same way about ‘home and family’ as I do, but if you want to know me, get it through your head that this place, these people, this city and planet are not things I can turn my back on. Not now, maybe never, but not now, for sure. Not with the way that things are now.”
“I’ll do what I can to avoid bloodshed, Sirah. I care for your people, too. If I have to leave you, for a while, to help protect you, I’ll do that.” That was malarkey, and we both knew it – if I left it wouldn’t be for noble reasons. My makeup didn’t allow for noble reasons, but my mind could use them to fool others. Or, in this case, to provide a thin veil of self-sacrifice.
Sirah smiled again, this time sadly, and put her palm gently on my cheek as she looked into my eyes. I don’t know what she saw there, but she changed subjects. “We have lots of work to do, and not enough time. Let’s get moving.”
