Dark Horse (13 page)

Valu went stock-still. “Genuine oranges?”

“Yes, sir. One is an advanced sentient, and weʼve retrieved her from Harmon. Some of my team are retrieving the others right now.”

“So, Captain Jallan, youʼre saying not only do we have a Class 5, with most of its crew dead, but we have the Tecran dead to rights on violations to the Sentient Beings Agreement?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is . . . good.” Admiral Valu looked like he was about to rub his hands together when Filavantri Dimitara stepped into the lens feed view.

“Not really so good for the sentient beings they were torturing.” She didnʼt try to hide the disapproval on her face.

Valu coughed and sent Dav a chastened look. “Tortured?”

“Perhaps we could have a word in private, Admiral?”

The admiral nodded.

“Transfer comms to my private station, please,” he said to Hista, and walked off the bridge to the small office where he dealt with the administrative duties that came with the job.

When he got there, Admiral Valuʼs image was already on screen.

“Torture? Really?” The admiral looked thoughtful.

Dav nodded. “Rose is physically whole, but my chief medic says there is evidence of invasive surgery, and she verbally confirms that. She was locked in a cell small enough that she could almost have touched the walls on both sides if she stood in the middle, was never allowed to exercise or bathe, and was malnourished.”

“What were they up to?”

Dav shrugged. “If I were to guess, from what my logistics team tells me theyʼve found in the store rooms, they were on a genuine exploration mission, bringing back exotic products they found along the way. Rose and the animals from her planet were a side-trip. Possibly they didnʼt have time for a full exploration, and so the scientist asked for some specimens to play with.”

Valu grunted in disgust. “What a mess.” He paused. “That liaison officer giving you any trouble?”

Dav grinned. “Sheʼs a bit grating at times, but her being on board when this happened is a definite positive for us. She can confirm everything happened as it did. The Tecran have accused us of disabling their air and power, and she was on the bridge the whole time with me. She can witness that we had nothing to do with it.”

“Huh.” Valu conceded her usefulness with another grunt.

“She has also formed a connection with Rose. What Rose went through is even more abhorrent to Officer Dimitara because sheʼs seen Roseʼs reactions personally. She wonʼt be inclined to minimize what the Tecran have done. Sheʼll be gunning for them.”

“Well . . .” Valu frowned. “You seem a little affected by this Rose as well.”

Dav tried not to lie if he could help it. “I am. I find her . . . remarkable.”

“Iʼm sure she is.” Valu dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Back to the Class 5. Whatʼs it like?”

“Truly terrifying, sir. My crew and I are enjoying learning its secrets, top to bottom.”

Valu didnʼt miss the proprietary note in his voice. “Fair enough, you bagged it, but donʼt think youʼll have it all to yourself. Iʼll be there as soon as we can get a team together. And I know I wonʼt be the only one chomping to go.” He must have seen the look on Davʼs face. “Iʼll make sure everyone knows youʼre in charge, but you have to share a little, Captain.”

Dav reminded himself it was better than it could have been. He gave a nod.

“I suppose that liaison officer will be arranging for the United Council to be there, too. Deal with the crimes the Tecran committed.”

“And weʼll have to ask the Council to take away the dead, deliver them to the Tecran. I canʼt see us inviting the Tecran in to fetch the bodies themselves.”

Valu swore. “Hadnʼt thought of that, but youʼre right. They are not to set foot back on that Class 5. Iʼll put the request in.”

Dav hesitated, then decided heʼd better say what was on his mind. “Admiral, one thing. The Tecran captain, Gee, says he doesnʼt know how they landed in Grih territory. That something directed them, mid-light jump, into our hands, and then disabled them. If thatʼs true, someone handed us this Class 5 on a platter, and Iʼm asking myself who and why.”

Valu tapped long, blunt fingers on his desk. “So noted. Bit more excitement than you thought you were going to get on a routine trip, eh?”

Dav inclined his head as Valu disconnected.

Just a bit.

R
ose sat opposite Lieutenant Kila
, took a careful sip of her grinabo and blew on it to cool it a little. The tray of food the lieutenant had brought for Roseʼs lunch sat on the table beside her, and Rose was grateful. Not just because she was hungry, but because it would give her an excuse to delay any questions she didnʼt like.

“You like the grinabo?” Kila asked as if the answer was truly of interest to her.

Rose gave a nod. Sheʼd made the grinabo for herself, and something called tep-tep for Kila.

“You donʼt like me, though.” Kila leaned back in her seat. “You have apparently formed a friendship with Liaison Officer Dimitara, and with Captain Jallan, and Havak tells me you are cooperative with him, but you clearly donʼt like me. May I ask why?”

Rose put down her cup. “Youʼre too excited about me.” She concentrated on the food at her elbow, and bit into some more of the pink bread sheʼd liked from that morning. When she was done chewing, she looked back up at Kila. “You remind me of Dr. Fliap, from the Class 5.”

“The scientist whoʼs on life-support?” Kila frowned.

Rose nodded. “He never saw me as a person, only as a fascinating opportunity to discover new things.”

Kila took a sip of her drink. “Canʼt I see you as both?”

Rose stared at her. “Dr. Fliap tortured me. Put probes in me with cameras on them. Tormented me and the animals.”

Kilaʼs mug came down with a thump. “You equate me with someone who would do that?” She was so shocked, Rose felt the first lessening of tension at being in Kilaʼs presence.

“You donʼt see me as a person. You definitely see yourself as superior to me.” Rose held her gaze, and saw the slow change in attitude as Kila understood Rose knew exactly how she thought, and what was going on.

Kila blew out a breath, pale under her smooth, olive skin. “I donʼt think I realized . . .” She rubbed at her cheeks, as if trying to get the color back into them. “I never meant . . .” She stood up, and Rose could see embarrassment in the hunch of her shoulders. “I will assign someone else to speak to you.” She took a step toward the door.

“Wait.” Rose closed her eyes. Kila had seemed genuinely shocked at the comparison sheʼd made between herself and Dr. Fliap. It was a truthful one on Roseʼs part; that hot, hungry look in her eyes had been a near perfect replica of Dr. Fliapʼs, but Rose conceded the worst of it with Kila was probably going to be hours of tests or conversation. And as Captain Jallan had told her, she was free to call a halt at any time.

She opened her eyes, found Kila standing, holding her breath, halfway to the door. “I can understand that finding someone like me was probably the reason you got into your line of work to begin with, but I had the sense, when we first met, that I was a shiny prize to you. Iʼm not a prize, but if you treat me with respect, Iʼll cooperate.”

Kila slowly walked back, sank into her chair with a distinct lack of her former poise. Her hair was a light mahogany tipped with gold, short and spiky like everyoneʼs, and she ran her hands through it, making it even spikier. “Iʼll say this one thing in my defense. In over five hundred years, we havenʼt come across a single new advanced sentient life form. Youʼre right, the possibility of this is why I became an explorations officer to begin with.” She heaved a sigh. “Just this conversation alone is worth a great deal to my career. I let that go to my head, and almost ruined it for myself. Will you let me start with a clean slate? I will have to report our discussions, that is my job, but you will be treated with respect.”

Rose gripped her mug, wondering what Sazo was making of this conversation. Her Tecran handheld sat on the side-table next to her, and she knew he could hear it all.

There wasnʼt much risk to her agreement. If she didnʼt think Kila was holding up her side of the bargain, she could call an end to it, and Kila knew it.

Kilaʼs raised her mug of tep-tep to her lips and took a long gulp. “You are genuinely weighing it up, arenʼt you?”

“Isnʼt that what youʼve just asked me to do?”

“I . . .” Kilaʼs voice shook. “Yes, it is.”

Rose respected her for not saying anything more. For not trying to push.

“What do you want to know?”

Kila let out a shaky breath. “I think I just aged a few years.” She shook her head, and took another gulp of her drink. “Where is your planet?”

Rose pursed her lips. “I canʼt tell you. Aside from the fact that I donʼt know exactly where I am now, I donʼt know enough about astronomy to tell you anyway. But even if I could, I wouldnʼt.”

“You wouldnʼt?” Kila blinked.

“Iʼm not exactly thrilled with my treatment so far, and I wouldnʼt want anyone else knowing where to find my people. I donʼt think you can blame me for that.”

Kila shook her head. “It will be on the Class 5 log. We will find out.”

Rose shrugged. “So be it. You wonʼt hear it from me.”

Kila shook her head again. “I have so many questions, but one sticks out from my conversation with Dr. Havak. He said he was amazed at how quickly you adapted to our technology. He could hardly believe youʼre from a less developed people, but says you say you are. That your familiarity is because your people have imagined a higher level of advancement, but havenʼt yet achieved it. Is this true?”

Rose nodded. “Weʼve thought up lots of interesting things. Some of them we may turn into reality, others wonʼt ever see the light of day.”

“But how do you disseminate the ideas?”

“Written comms, visual comms.”

“But if it isnʼt reality, what visual comms do you record? How can you record something that is imaginary?”

“People pretend it isnʼt imaginary, and act the story out. Itʼs a sought-after job on my planet.”

Kila made a note, but she seemed completely stunned. “And the written comms?”

“You write something that is like a report, only itʼs about something that hasnʼt happened.”

“A lie?”

“No. A lie is a deliberate falsification. A story openly declares itself as imaginary.”

“And why would people spend time reading something that is untrue?”

“Because itʼs fun. Exciting. When it isnʼt real, you can enjoy it because people arenʼt really getting hurt, arenʼt really in danger, arenʼt really at rock bottom. If the story writer is good, theyʼll make you think it is real, even as you know, at the back of your mind, that it isnʼt. And it means you can create worlds where the tech is more advanced than it is in reality or imagine places that donʼt really exist.” She saw Kila was struggling to accept what she was saying. “Sometimes, reading something like that gives us ideas we might not have had before. Takes us in directions that lead to something useful to us all.”

Kila scribbled on her handheld. “One thing confused Dr. Havak, and now Iʼve spoken to you, it has me wondering, as well. What is the significance of buying an article of clothing?”

Rose frowned. What on earth . . . “Oh. Buying the t-shirt?”

Kila gave a nod.

“Sometimes, a story is so popular, people like to wear a representation of it on their clothing, thatʼs all. When we say weʼve bought the t-shirt, it means weʼve bought into the story completely, even if we havenʼt bought an actual t-shirt.”

“I would like to see one of these t-shirts.”

Rose hunched a little. “Maybe one day Iʼll make one for you. Show you what it would look like.”

Kilaʼs gaze lifted to hers. “I am sorry you were stolen from your home, Rose.”

Rose nodded. “I have a question for you.” She thought of the awkward scene in systems engineering. “What is a music-maker? What am I agreeing to by identifying myself as one?”

Kila leaned forward. “Who is telling you you are a music-maker?”

“Sub-lieutenant Hista, Officer Yari. It was mentioned when I sang to Dr. Revilʼs child in the med-chamber.”

“Your voice is so melodic, I can see why some would assume youʼre a music-maker. What song did you sing to little Gyp?”

Rose sang the first line of Row, Row, Row Your Boat.

Kilaʼs face froze. Rose waited, growing more alarmed, until at last she blinked. “Sing something else.”

Not really knowing what to make of that, Rose decided on Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, trying to make light of the whole situation. She kept a half-smile on her face, waiting for Kila to call her on it, or realize she was being joked with, but it never came.

“You are a music-maker.” Kila voice was hushed.

“What does that mean, though? What does it entail?”

Kila stood, and Rose got to her feet as well, so she wasnʼt being loomed over.

“Music-makers are revered in our society. We love music, but biologically, our voices arenʼt very tuneful. There are some races we come into contact with who sing, but their music is discordant to our ears, or unpleasant to us, and they arenʼt interested in singing in our language. When someone who is Grih can sing well, and that happens very rarely, they hold a special place.”

“Iʼm not Grih,” Rose said.

“But you want to stay with us? Captain Jallan said that you wish to make a home with us?”

Rose nodded.

“You will be most welcome, no matter what. But as a music-maker, you will be embraced.” Kila bowed to her, as respectfully as Rose could ever have wished.

As she left, Rose thought perhaps she wasnʼt a bug to Kila anymore, but maybe a pedestal was just as uncomfortable as a microscope.

D
av stood outside Roseʼs door
, and wondered what he was doing there.

The two battle cruisers heʼd called for over a day ago, when theyʼd first stumbled on the Class 5, had light jumped in and taken up position on either side of the
Barrist
. Heʼd spoken to both captains, but there was nothing to do but wait until Admiral Valu assembled his group of Class 5 gawkers and Dav had to deal with superior officers who would want to muscle in on his action.

Dimitara was expecting a delegation from the United Council, and it seemed like everyone wanted a front row seat, so it was going to take at least six hours for them to arrive.

Dav had arranged for the Tecran officers to be transferred over to the
Barrist
, had lit a fire under his logistics crew to inventory the stores on the Class 5 so they had more of an idea of where the Class 5 had been, and had had a frustrating conversation with Borji, who still hadnʼt managed to get in to the comms or weapons systems on the Class 5.

He had a hundred things he could be doing, but here he stood, two small black bags in his hand, playing delivery boy.

Except, he knew that wasnʼt the full truth.

He wanted to see Rose again. The moment by the pool . . . he fought the shudder that wanted to shake free.

And then again, if it was just that, simple attraction, he could handle it, put it aside until things were calmer. Understand it.

But there was more.

Only one thing in the bags made sense. A set of clothing; trousers of a natural fibre that Kila was most excited about, and a shirt of the same fibre, but thinner, with small round fastenings, white with lilac flowers printed on it. They were soft with wear, and he had no doubt they were the clothes she had been taken from Earth in.

But from there, things went wrong.

The bags contained clothing made from hyr fabric. At least four sets. And sheʼd had a set on when theyʼd rescued her. Almost priceless, Olip, his logistics chief, had told him. Usually traded for favors or concessions on the international level, but if a price was set, he wouldnʼt want to guess what it could be.

Then there was the yuiar-scented soap sheʼd been using. There were four bottles of it, two in each bag. The combined cost, Olip said, was more than Dav earned in a year.

So why did she have it?

He knew how the Tecran had treated her. They looked after the flocks of baug they liked to hunt on Tecra better than theyʼd looked after her.

The convenient escape to Harmon, just as the air and power went down, the look on her face when heʼd told her most of the Tecran crew were dead. Now this.

Something wasnʼt adding up.

And while he wanted to trust her, wanted to do a lot more than that, he had a responsibility to his crew that he couldnʼt ignore.

And the number of potential casualties if this all blew up in their faces was only rising as Battle Center and the United Council got in on the action.

He raised his hand and pushed the buzzer, angry with himself that dread sat heavy and cold in his stomach.

The door opened, and Rose stood there, in the burgundy tunic and pants they gave to visitors to easily identify them.

She smiled at him, a shy smile that conjured up the warm, heavy air of the pool room, her weight in his lap, the feel of the firm, smooth skin of her breast under his fingers.

He held up her bags, unable to speak.

“They were able to get them!” Her smile widened, although she didnʼt reach for them.

Appalʼs team had retrieved them before he and Rose had even left Harmon. Theyʼd been in the runner that had taken her up to the
Barrist
yesterday, but Dav wanted them thoroughly checked before they were returned to her.