Children of Scarabaeus (20 page)
“You won’t force her,” Finn said so firmly that Valari was compelled to back down. “We’ve been forced around enough, both of us.”
“Finn…
Jaron
…” Valari turned from soldier to seductress in a flash. “This is not why we’re here.”
“I’m not saying I agree with her,” Finn said. “But you won’t force her. It’s up to Edie what she does.”
Valari blinked and swallowed hard, stunned into silence. Corinth was no help. He sat drumming his fingers on the console, waiting to see what would happen next.
Edie decided to act as if they’d come to an agreement. “So let’s come up with a plan to take the children. They need a supply of neuroxin implants, like me. The infirmary has dozens, enough to last several years. Corinth, you said you had access to the infirmary?”
“Uh, yes. But the infirmary is always manned, right?”
“We don’t need to walk in the front door. We just need to get to Dr Sternhagen’s office. That’s where I saw the box. The kids’ dorm is on the same deck. I imagine there’s some sort of security posted.”
“You said this kid Galeon uses the access tubes and crawl spaces,” Corinth said, ignoring Valari’s glare. “Could he persuade the others to follow him to a rendezvous point?”
“That should work. Where are you with your rescue plan?”
“Our ship is pretty much ready to go once we give the signal. It’ll enter the system with engine trouble—say, a neutron leak. Something they can’t fix without docking for emergency repairs. The
Learo Dochais
is required to render assistance. With the
Molly Mei
docked, we just need to sneak on board and depart before we’re missed.”
“There’s a VIP event tomorrow evening,” Edie said. “Is that too soon? Almost the entire staff and crew will be in one place that evening—Deck A. Should make it easier for us to move around and ultimately to disappear.”
“Twenty-four hours is enough time.”
“Okay. Finn, you deal with Galeon. I’ll steal the neuroxin using Corinth’s crew key. You two”—she looked from Corinth to Valari, who stood tight-lipped in the background—“clear the way for us to get to the
Molly Mei
.”
“And what’s the contingency plan?” Valari spoke up suddenly, sharply. “What if the kids don’t show, for example? Do we wait around until the whole thing falls through? We only get one shot at this. The
Molly Mei
will be escorted out of the system as soon as it’s fixed, and your ride to freedom will be gone.”
“Then let’s all hope the kids
do
show,” Edie said. “Because I won’t leave them here.”
It felt good to take charge, to be decisive. It felt good to be the one standing up for these children, to step into the role Lukas had filled for her.
Valari looked like she wanted to squeeze out more objections. Instead she said, “I’ve been looking for a world we
can persuade to try out the crack. Some place that trusts me despite the crack’s unknown source. Some place that needs our help.” She gave Finn a cautious look. “The best option is Fairbairn.”
Beside her, Edie felt Finn tense. Edie had never heard of Fairbairn, but in truth any Fringe world name meant equally little to her.
“Since when did Fairbairn need this sort of help?” Finn asked.
“It isn’t the most desperate world, that’s true. Still, we’re heading in a bad direction. Despite our government taking a neutral stance during the Liberty War, since then the feeling has turned largely anti-Crib. Not a bad thing in itself. In fact, it’s helped me bolster the reputation of the Saeth to the point where I no longer have to hide my identity as one of them. But it’s led to five years of unrest, bordering on civil war.”
Valari’s choice of pronouns made it clear that Fairbairn was her homeworld. As she continued to explain, Edie realized something else. Valari had recruited Finn as a young man…on Fairbairn? Was Fairbairn his homeworld, too? She absorbed each new detail about him and filed it away.
Finn looked a little surprised at the information as Valari continued.
“Our economy is wrecked. We’ve struggled to pay the Crib’s renewal fees for years, and now we’re several months late. The BRATs have shut down and our ecosystem is stumbling.”
“If it’s only been a few months,” Edie said, “then this planet sounds like an ideal candidate for a demonstration of the crack. If it works, you’ll get quick results—an immediate reversal of at least some of the damage.”
Finn didn’t look particularly happy, which confused Edie. Valari seemed to understand.
“I can see you have mixed feelings about this,” Valari said. “Just think, if it works, you can return home a hero.”
“That’s unlikely,” Finn said. “We have to maintain
anonymity. Otherwise Edie becomes a target for every desperate Fringer out there.”
Valari shrugged. “So where should I tell the authorities on Fairbairn I got the crack?”
“I don’t know,” Finn said. “And here’s another problem—if you use it on Fairbairn, you’ll be seen as playing favorites, saving your own world first. The Saeth don’t do that.”
“Then use Cat,” Edie said. “She comes from Cameo, a Crib world, but for years she ran with rovers. She’ll be seen as neutral. She has contacts on the Fringe who will believe any tale she spins about how she acquired the crack.”
“So, Cat approaches Valari with it,” Corinth said, “perhaps indirectly via these contacts of hers, and Valari vouches for her in order to convince the authorities to upload it.”
Valari thought about it for a moment. For the first time, she actually looked pleased. “It just might work,” she said at last.
“You’ve got one helluva bunch of buddies, Finn.” The scrambled line rendered Cat in tiny distorted cubes of light that lent a bluish tinge to her dark features. “So polite. So friendly. Jezus. I might just invite them to join my book club.”
“Nice to see you again, too,” Finn said with half a smile.
“So—the Saeth got me, the Crib got you. Who’s better off, huh?” Cat had fought for the Crib during the Reach Conflicts, and her opinion of the Saeth was based on Crib propaganda. Still, she and Finn had just about been on speaking terms by the end of their adventure on the
Hoi Polloi
. Hopefully, her opinion was changing.
“I know how you feel about the Saeth,” Edie said. “Please take my word for it that you were misinformed about them. I need you to trust them, work with them.”
“I promised I’d help you, Edie. Bring it on.”
Cat already knew about the cryptoglyph. Edie explained about the remote crack she’d made, and that they wanted to test it on Fairbairn.
“So you want me to get the word out to my contacts,” Cat
said. “I’ll dangle the carrot, give them enough specifics that they inevitably suggest Fairbairn and put me in touch with that woman Valari Zael.”
Cat couldn’t see that Valari was standing in the room, to one side of the holoviz. The way she said
that woman
spoke volumes about how the two of them had got along.
“Yes,” Edie said. “We need this to look like Fairbairn is the most obvious choice. And it is. With Valari’s help, it’s also the one place we’re virtually guaranteed they’ll listen.”
“Okay. Send me the crack.”
“Wait!” Valari stepped into view, put her hand on Edie’s arm and shook her head, concerned. “I would rather send that code to Fairbairn myself. I don’t want it out there, out of our control.”
Cat caught on fast. “Ah, there you are, Valari. You don’t trust me? I thought we were best friends.”
“If the crack doesn’t work properly,” Valari said, “if there are side-effects we haven’t considered…It’s safer to keep it under control until we’re sure.”
“As soon as we give it to Fairbairn’s authorities, it’s out of our control,” Edie pointed out.
“I’ll make sure they don’t spread it around if it’s faulty.”
“You can’t guarantee that. Besides, Cat won’t spread it around if it’s faulty, either.” Edie spoke over Valari’s objections. “I made this thing. I decide who gets it.”
As Edie spoke, she surreptitiously pressed her fingers to the console’s port, connecting her splinter to the comm system.
“Got it,” Cat said with a grin.
Valari scowled, her lips tightening. This woman was just not used to someone else making the decisions.
“Find a way to persuade Fairbairn to use it,” Edie told Cat. “If their tecks say it worked, send it across the Reach and get the word out.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Cat. It’s good to know you’re out there and on our side.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes. Give Finn a big kiss for me.”
That made Finn smirk and Corinth chuckle. Edie cut the link.
“On to the next order of business,” Corinth said. “The leash.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Valari said. “I’m heading back to my quarters to write a proposal for my contacts on Fairbairn.”
When she’d left the lab, Corinth pulled up a seat to the console and continued. “I have a pretty neat idea on cutting the leash. Actually, more like tricking it into accepting a new input in lieu of transmissions from Edie’s chip.”
Finn didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it.”
“Not so fast,” Edie said. “Explain exactly what you intend to do.”
“I create a recorded loop of your brainwaves and code it into his chip’s receiver,” Corinth said. “Then, as far as it knows, you never leave his side.”
Edie took a moment to absorb it. The leash was a line of communication between their chips that transmitted and received her brainwave signature, combined with a biocyph lock that connected his chip to the bomb in his skull. As long as her brainwaves were being received, the bomb would never detonate.
Finn was looking at her expectantly.
“It makes sense,” she said, feeling hope tickling at her heart.
“If it works,” Corinth said, “we can thank my friend on Minehead. She’s the one who suggested it.”
He placed his palmet on the table and the three of them sat around it. Recording the brainwave signature took only a few minutes. Corinth uploaded it to Finn’s chip via a hardlink.
“Imprinting now.”
He used his palmet to code the commands while Edie followed his work by riding the hardlink. She had no direct access to Finn’s chip but she could hear its echo, the clench of the leash, the locked tiers containing the detonator. She
had to push back a sense of frustration, knowing she’d have done the job ten times faster using a direct link between her wet-teck interface and Finn’s chip. But Corinth was good—he could only scratch the surface of the biocyph in Finn’s head, but it was enough. And he was meticulous and careful. She felt confident he’d do the job right as he integrated her brainwaves into the chip’s circuitry.
“Now we just have to switch over the connection,” Corinth said.
He made it sound benign, but it sent a bolt of panic through Edie. Finn gave her a quick look and she tried to force a smile, but her nerves killed it. They’d made a new connection, now they had to cut the old one—the true leash, the one connected to her splinter.
If it worked, she told herself, this would be the last time Finn would ever suffer the discomfort of feeling her emotions buzzing across the leash.
If it didn’t work…
“Let me do it,” she said.
Corinth looked at her with surprise. “Are you sure? Finn—?”
Finn said nothing. His eyes locked onto hers and she saw no fear there, no uncertainty. Only trust. Then he nodded.
Yes
, he was sure.
Edie was terrified, but she knew she had to be the one to do this. If Finn was about to die before her eyes, she wanted to know she’d tried everything she could to prevent it. Even if that meant being the cause of it. And she didn’t want it to happen in this cold impersonal lab, in front of a stranger.
“Not here,” she said. “We’ll find somewhere else, just Finn and me.”
The garden was open access for all crew. Finn’s crew key wouldn’t get him anywhere else on Deck A, but he could get into the garden. This was the one place in Crib territory where he got equal treatment.
Edie had only seen a tiny wedge of the garden through Natesa’s office window. In total it was a hundred times bigger, with several windows from the admin deck overlooking it. A ribbon of light outlined each window but the rooms beyond were dark—the admin staff kept regular hours and it was the middle of the night. The garden, too, was in its nighttime phase. The narrow, raised walking path was lit with dimmed striplights marking its edges.
The soft light made Finn’s dark hazel eyes shine, and his hand closed around Edie’s, warm and reassuring. The warmth spread up her arm and filled her chest. It squeezed her heart and stole her breath. She had to think to remember how to breath. In and out, in and out.
They stepped onto the path, treading on scattered stray leaves, green with purple undersides. No doubt someone would sweep the debris away before it died and turned brittle, especially with important Crib guests on board. The vegetation surrounding them stood still and silent, the only
sound a calming trickle of water somewhere nearby. This was no natural world. Plants had been carefully positioned to create pleasing silhouettes, with species artfully mixed together in contrasting colors and shapes.
The path branched and at random Edie chose the left. They came to the water feature, a simple waterfall flowing over stacked river stones into a small pool. Their approach triggered a sensor and the bottom of the pool began to glow.
Edie knelt on the ground beside the pool, drawing Finn down with her. She disentangled her fingers from his and pressed her palms against her thighs, feeling the skin grow clammy.
“Are you sure?” she asked him.
“Yes.”
“We don’t have to do this right now.”
“Then when?”
“When we’re safe. When we’re free.”
“If you’re right about Natesa, I’ll be dead before that happens.”
“Or I could kill you right now, attempting to free you.”
“I can live with that.”
They shared a smile at his joke.
“Finn, I’m scared.”
“I’m not. It’s okay, Edie.”
He laid an arm across her shoulders and pulled her gently toward him, until she was leaning against his chest. He’d been scared of what Natesa had the power to do to him—she’d felt his visceral fear at being manipulated and controlled. But this time, she was the one with his life in her hands. He wasn’t scared of dying, she realized. A soldier expected death. He was scared only of being powerless to choose how he died. Natesa’s games weren’t the battles he’d chosen to fight.
