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Protector (The Vigilante Chronicles Book 7)

Page 14

by Natalie Grey


  “Very sure,” Shinigami replied. “I found an old backup, wiped the entire system, and reinstalled. I was able to isolate the pieces that had been changed. From the programs I found on the turrets, I think they were dual-purpose. They likely started landing more than a week ago and made their way into the cities, embedding programming into everything they could find.”

  “And who are you?” General Vidrelor asked her dubiously.

  “I’m Shinigami,” she said, giving him Bethany Anne’s patented “bureaucracy sucks” smile. “I’m not human.”

  She didn’t elaborate further.

  “Right,” Barnabas said before anyone could ask more questions. He knew Shinigami well enough to know she would give accurate answers in the most unsettling way she could. “So, where are these people?”

  “General Fedranor is in this facility, about fifty-five jilwa outside the city.”

  A jilwet is about five kilometers, Shinigami translated before Barnabas could ask. I swear, their plural form makes no sense. It’s worse than Latin.

  Thank you. You’re invaluable. Also, Latin has its uses.

  I know I’m invaluable, and no, it doesn’t. She flashed him a smile.

  “The facility is entirely locked down, but we’ve been able to recover traffic camera data and other assorted pieces of information that would suggest they’re still alone in there,” Ferqar reported. “Now, it’s not a certainty, so we have a few people working on how we might determine if they’ve been converted.”

  “I can do that,” Barnabas offered.

  Everyone gave him curious looks.

  You’re in it now, chief, Shinigami told him.

  I know, but I’d rather they know what I can do. Coming up, it’s going to be damned useful.

  And if the Committee finds out?

  I’m not sure that would be bad, actually.

  Barnabas looked around at the group and gave a somewhat guilty smile. “I can read minds,” he explained. Hoping he could move through this explanation quickly, he added, “Part of the conversion is to create strong loyalty to Grisor and the Committee. A converted individual will likely know to say things that make them seem normal. They can lie and pretend just fine, but if we ask them about Grisor, their feelings about him will show the truth.”

  There was a long silence.

  “You can read minds?” Ferqar asked delicately.

  “Er, yes.”

  “So when you were aboard the Srisa,” Kelnamon said, “investigating Huword’s death…”

  “Yes.” Barnabas smiled tightly. “Jotun thoughts are difficult for me to read, but I knew from your thoughts, Kelnamon, what the scene had been in Huword’s rooms—and there was no similar memory in Ferqar’s head. What confused me, of course, was the strong feeling of guilt I was getting from Ferqar.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Vidrelor rumbled. “Do we have a murderer here?”

  “Yes,” Ferqar admitted without preamble. “As you may know, the Srisa—Kelnamon’s ship—was stopped after a fellow Jotun naval captain was murdered. Although I did not carry out the murder, I arranged for it and made sure Huword would be somewhere the Jotun government could not easily reach.”

  “What he’s not telling you,” Barnabas added a moment later, sighing, “is what Huword did. He was attacking remote alien colonies and torturing the civilians. Ferqar was disgusted by this and helped arrange for Huword’s death so that he could not continue the practice. It was murder, yes, but there was an element of Justice to it.”

  “I see,” Vidrelor said after a moment. “Humans and Jotuns are both eager to take the law into their own hands. Brakalons are not like that. We respect laws, even when they are inconvenient. Ferqar should have brought his colleague to stand trial, and you, human—you should have stayed out of it, or brought Ferqar to his government.”

  Barnabas hid his smile as he nodded. Now did not seem a good time to have a debate on the merits of vigilante Justice and wide-scale government corruption. He could tell from the general drift of Ferqar’s thoughts that the Jotun was thinking the same thing.

  “Shinigami,” he suggested gravely, “can you assist General Vidrelor in coming up with a strategy to release the Jotun hold on the building where Fedranor is being held?”

  “Of course,” Shinigami replied demurely.

  Barnabas knew her better than to think it was anything more than an act, but no one else here did.

  They set about making a plan, and within an hour, they had finalized their strategy. Ferqar knew that Jotun autotargeting had difficulty in both twilight and rain, and it was possible that they would get both this evening. Even if they were to attack at dusk, it would still give them an edge.

  They didn’t want to wait any longer than that.

  “I will assemble the strike team,” Vidrelor stated. He gave Barnabas an annoyed look, “As your crew member Shinigami is an integral piece of this operation, I will allow you and she to assist.”

  Barnabas didn’t want to push his luck, but his team had put too much effort into this not to be allowed to participate. “Two more members should be involved.”

  Vidrelor growled but nodded. “We leave two eta before dusk,” he said shortly. “Be at the city gates, or we will leave without you.”

  “Well.” Barnabas looked at Shinigami. “I think that went as well as could be expected, don’t you?”

  “Better, honestly.” Shinigami lifted a shoulder. “I would have thought they’d be at each other’s throats. Just when I think I have a handle on organic life forms, you all throw me another curveball.”

  “That’s…accurate.” Chuckling, Barnabas went to find Gar and Gilwar and tell them about the operation.

  * * *

  There was a lot he could not remember. Gorsik drifted in the tank of his biosuit and tried to go over the events of the last day. For some reason, any attempt to think about it made him nauseated. He remembered terrible pain but little else.

  But why? What would have hurt so much?

  He must have been in an accident of some kind. The answer came to him slowly. His mind wasn’t working very well, after all. Yes, an accident. Perhaps his suit had malfunctioned.

  Then why was he here in his offices, alone? Surely he should have medical personnel attending to him. He tried to make his suit work, but the effort was too much for him. He did not understand what was happening. He did not…

  He fought the urge to vomit, tentacles rigid. It took longer than he wanted to get hold of himself, but eventually he was able to relax again.

  And then he remembered his purpose. He remembered why he was here.

  The admiral. He needed to bring the admiral to a certain location. They had told him this when they left him here in his office. They told him it should be easy for him to arrange. After all, he had been her aide for several years now. He knew what to say to get her off her guard.

  And when they had her…

  His heart filled with happiness. When the admiral was converted like he was, she would be happier. He wanted her to be happy. She had not been very happy lately. She would be happy, and Grisor would be happy, and the true work of the Committee could begin.

  Although he was still in pain, Gorsik struggled to his feet and went in search of Admiral Jeqwar.

  There was much to do. He could not afford to waste a single moment.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Holy shit, boss, it’s actually you.” Tom Mears strode across the docking bay of Heavensward Station. Although he stood only 5’4”, he radiated confidence and charm that filled any room he was in—up to and including the docking bay. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached out to clasp Aliana’s hand. “Kinda thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Likewise,” Aliana replied honestly. She felt a stab of old hurt and pushed it away.

  Tom saw it, though. He shook his head at her. “I’m so sorry for what happened. I didn’t know at first, I swear. We just left port, and he said you had some business t
o finish up and you’d meet us a little later on. Then he said—”

  “That he and I were breaking up and I’d given him the ship,” Aliana finished. “I know. The others told me. I’m not mad at you, Tom. I shouldn’t ever have been, I should have known he’d lie to you all, too.”

  Ria, of course, had known the truth, but she and Aliana had settled that.

  “Well, I didn’t fix it when I knew, did I?” Tom shook his head. “Figured it was all legal-like, tied up so neatly, and we’ve all had bad bosses afore, haven’t we? Told myself I’d make it up to you if I ever saw you again, but that was dodging things and I knew it.” He gave a sigh. “Say, how did you get the ship back?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Aliana promised him. “Suffice it to say, Lawrence is not happy about it, but the whole process did involve him spending about an hour trying to land an heiress, and that was fun for all of us to watch.”

  She meant that literally. Shannon had sent along the video later, and they’d all had a good laugh, throwing popcorn at the screen as Lawrence laid a bunch of smarmy pickup lines on the woman.

  Aliana hadn’t seen her wearing a recording device, but she must have had one embedded. She found herself fascinated by the woman. She didn’t seem intimidated by anything, and last time Carter had mentioned Barnabas, he hadn’t mentioned any stunningly attractive female members of his crew.

  She had no idea that if Barnabas knew the general drift of her thoughts, he would have laughed himself sick.

  Anyway, she told herself firmly, she was not jealous. Not jealous at all. She busied herself letting Tom into the ship and showing him to his old bunk with a flourish. Lawrence had been lazy enough that he hadn’t cleaned out the cabins after he fired everyone, but since they were in port anyway for Ria to do the repairs, Aliana had busied herself cleaning the ship from stem to stern.

  Consequently, every part of her ached and all of her clothes smelled like cleaning solution.

  It had been worth it, though. She told herself that she’d scrubbed every last bit of Lawrence out of the Melisande. When they left port, the ship would be clean, and Aliana vowed to herself that she would never again think of him. It would be as if he’d never been on board.

  They’d come to Heavensward specifically to find Tom since Aliana had spent the last few days tracking down every member of the crew that Lawrence had fired. All of them had been happy to sign on again, and with every one of them, Aliana had made the same deal: it was all water under the bridge as long as they’d tell her the next time someone tried to tell them to leave port without her.

  They all promised they would—and more than one of them promised to give Lawrence a solid kick in the groin if they ever saw him again. Aliana had started to protest the first time someone had said that, then decided not to intervene. The crew had their own grudges with him.

  He solidly deserved it.

  She passed Ria in the hallway. The tiny woman seemed to be covered with grease smudges and the toolbox she was lugging was about half her size, but she was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Engine upgrades have her purring like a kitten,” she reported happily. “Just the gun turrets to do now. And did I hear Tom?”

  “You did.” Aliana pointed down the hall. “Same bunk. I think he’s still unpacking.”

  “Awesome!” Ria dropped her tools with a clank and took off. “Tom! Tom! You’re back!”

  Aliana watched her go with a grin. Seeing the rest of the family come together again was helping her feel better about everything.

  And she had to be honest—she had definitely looked the other way when a boss had done something unethical. She had given herself all sorts of excuses, like that it wasn’t her business or that a paycheck was a paycheck.

  She wasn’t very impressed with her past self now.

  She was humming an old Earth song when she heard a familiar voice nearby. With a frown, sure she must be mishearing, Aliana made her way to the front hatch of the ship.

  “Sir, please.” Tara was trying to block access into the ship. “Please just let me ask the captain if—”

  “It’s all right, Tara.” Aliana gave a chuckle. “Zinqued. Fancy seeing you here. What business on Heavensward? I warn you, if you steal the flour transport job out from under us, I will be very put out.”

  Zinqued chortled. “Ah, we are rivals now! This will be fun. But this time, I am not here for the same job; do not worry. In actuality, I heard you had come to Heavensward, so I came here to see you.”

  “Me?” Aliana frowned. Then she guessed what he must be getting at and groaned. “You can’t be serious, Zinqued.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zinqued sniffed loftily.

  “You know very well what I’m talking about.” Aliana jabbed a finger at him and then sighed, lifting both hands in a helpless gesture. “But still, I know you better than to think I’ll get you out of here without at least talking to you about this, so come on. I’ll make tea.”

  “Tea!” Zinqued followed her happily. “The one that makes my nose go all cold and hot at the same time, yes?”

  “Peppermint, yes, I remembered you liked that one.”

  She showed Zinqued into the main social room of the Melisande. He looked around appreciatively, and Aliana smiled as well. Handmade braided rag rugs covered the deck with circles of bright color, an old wooden table was worn shiny with use and topped with a pottery fruit bowl, and various comfortable chairs had been acquired over the years so that the whole crew could sit and relax together. Many nights, they did; there were game boards and a very scattered collection of old books, not to mention a few knitting projects.

  The kitchen was one of Aliana’s favorite parts, decorated with fading wallpaper that nonetheless had a pattern she liked, and with walls that could come down if someone burned something, and keep the smell from getting into the whole ship.

  This large room was surprisingly cozy. The day might come when this place got old, but it wasn’t going to be for a very long time.

  Zinqued sat while Aliana got the tea and brought it over to the table. When he took the earthenware mug, his nose twitched in appreciation and he sneezed the next moment. Peppermint made the Hieto sneeze, which seemed only to make him enjoy the tea even more.

  Aliana supposed humans did some pretty strange things, too.

  “So.” She took a sip of her tea and raised her eyebrows. “Make your pitch, then.”

  Zinqued took another sip of tea, sneezed again, and smiled broadly. “This tea is good! And you know what my pitch is, surely. You are a human, and you have a good rapport with Barnabas. You can help me more than any other crew member I could get. So the question isn’t what I want, it’s what you want.”

  Clever of him. Aliana smiled and tucked her legs up.

  She was surprised to find that she had no good answer to the question.

  “I don’t think I really want anything,” she told him honestly. “I have my own ship, and I can go wherever I want. Usually, I don’t have quite enough money for all the repairs, and I’m a little worried about where the next job will come from, but it’s still the best life I can imagine. Perhaps it won’t always be.” She thought of Carter’s bar on High Tortuga and the family apartments above it, with his twins shrieking as they played in the backyard. “For now,” she added quietly.

  Zinqued seemed to know that her mind was miles away. He waited, sipping his tea and sneezing occasionally until she looked at him again.

  “I’ll help you,” Aliana said slowly. She saw his face light up and held up a finger. “But I’ll only help you with a Barnabas-style plan.”

  Zinqued paused.

  A smile was tugging at Aliana’s mouth now. “Barnabas makes very clever traps,” she told Zinqued. “You heard me speak to him about it. They’re traps that only catch you if you do a foolish or immoral thing. I will set that kind of trap. Barnabas, of all people, should be able to evade it.”

  Zinqued might have co
mplained that this was hardly useful, but he said nothing.

  “I’ll have to learn more about him,” Aliana said, suddenly flushing as she looked down into her tea. “Anything I can find out. Do my research. And I’ll make a plan. If he falls into the trap, it will be because he didn’t watch himself.”

  “Mmm.” Zinqued set his now-empty mug on the table. “I accept, then.”

  “You do?” Aliana was mildly surprised. “I’ll, uh…well, I’ll work on it.”

  “Do.” He stood. “I’ll wait to hear from you. Of course, this will likely mean you cross paths with him again.”

  Aliana’s stomach did its damnedest to hop sideways. She recovered before she spilled her tea everywhere, set the mug down hastily, and managed a smile.

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  It was a shame that she couldn’t tell if she was lying. The thought of seeing Barnabas again was terrifying.

  And yet…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Are you ready?” Barnabas asked Tafa as they walked down the corridor in the Shinigami.

  “I think so.” She looked at him. “Were you ever worried that you were going to…lose yourself? It’s just the thought of getting in that Pod and coming out someone else.”

  “I wasn’t changed in a Pod,” Barnabas explained. “My upgrade process was a little less…refined, shall we say.”

  Understatement of the decade.

  She was looking at him curiously, though, so he continued, “Yes, I did worry that I would lose myself. In fact, in the way I was first upgraded, there was a very strong voice in my mind telling me to give myself up to end the pain. But that won’t happen to you. What’s happening is that the Pod-doc—which doesn’t have a mind of its own—will make the changes Shinigami has determined. There’s no pain, and no voice.”

  Tafa relaxed a little bit.

  “You’re always changing, Tafa,” Barnabas told her. “Everything that happens to you changes you. You’re just choosing this change. And it’s all right—if you decide you don’t want to fight after all, you won’t have to.”

 

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