Dark Horse (14 page)

She stepped back. “Come in.”

He managed to walk across the threshold, and she closed the door behind him.

“My team checked the bags.” He placed them on the small table in the middle of the room. He noted with approval that there was a food tray near one of the chairs, and that it was almost empty.

Her face tipped up to look at him, no hint of worry or guilt on it. When he didnʼt continue, the skin of her forehead creased in a frown. “There was something bad in them? They were . . .”

She paused, and he realized she was trying to think of the Grih word. Eventually she blew out a breath in annoyance.

“There was a tracking device or listening device in them?”

He kept his face impassive. “Why would you think that?”

She shrugged. “You just looked so serious. Whatʼs wrong, then?”

He opened one of the bags, drew out the hyr fabric, felt it reacting immediately to the warmth of his hand. “Do you know what this is?”

“I was told. Hyr fabric. Isnʼt it wonderful? I donʼt think anything the Tecran had would fit me, so it was perfect.”

Could it be as simple as that? A lack of suitable clothing, so in a rush theyʼd given her something that would fit. Why would they care that her clothes fit her properly?

He pulled out the yuiar gel. “And this?”

She lifted her shoulders. “It was in the bags. I like the smell. It reminds me of home.”

“Yuiar is found on Earth?” Again, could it be this easy?

“Something like it, yes.” She took the bottle from him, opened the lid and sniffed. “Itʼs a combination of two scents that are often found together in soaps and perfume; cinnamon and vanilla.”

“Expensive?” He tried to make the question casual.

She shook her head. “Not particularly, no. Whatʼs the problem with it? Shouldnʼt I have used it? Is it dangerous?”

He honestly had no idea what to do with her. She did not understand what wealth lay before her on the table. And why should she? She wasnʼt from their corner of the galaxy.

“Who gave you the bags?” He saw that she had at last realized this wasnʼt a friendly visit, that she was being questioned, and the hurt that sparked in her eyes for a fleeting moment hurt him right back.

He didnʼt just remember the feel of her in his arms in the pool room. The way she had broken and then pulled herself back together in that room had been as real as anything heʼd ever seen. And as honest. It was driving him mad that he both questioned her version of events, and believed sheʼd been terribly wronged.

“No one gave them to me. They were in the explorer craft already when I boarded. I found them on the way to Harmon in a small cupboard.”

He turned away from her, and walked to the screen on the far wall of her room, set to a cool, frothy waterfall. “So they arenʼt yours.”

“They are now.” Her voice was short, and he suppressed a wince. “I had nothing for three months. Just the same clothes on my back every day. Those packs gave me my first soap and my first change of clothes, and they became mine the moment I pulled them out of that cupboard. Why else would they have been put there, if not for me? I donʼt know why you would want to take them away from me, but tough, you canʼt.”

“No one wants to take them away from you.” Dav turned to look at her. “We want to understand how it came to be that the Tecran gave you, their prisoner, the two most expensive items in their store, and sent you to safety, while they stayed behind and died.”

She stared at him, eyes wide. “You think I had something to do with the deaths on the Class 5?”

“I donʼt have a choice but to consider it. You certainly had motive. And now, I have to add that you have items which are worth my annual salary many times over sitting in those two bags into the mix.”

She gaped at him. “I didnʼt know their value. I was pleased with them for their intrinsic usefulness. What do you think I was going to do with them? Sell them to the gryaks on Harmon? And how did I steal them from the stores, and how did I even know they were there, let alone how much theyʼre worth?”

He shook his head. She was right, there were too many parts of this that didnʼt make sense, but he wouldnʼt, couldnʼt, get more involved with her on a personal level until she stopped holding back the full truth.

“Iʼm sorry you donʼt feel able to tell me everything you know,” he said, stiff and formal as if he were addressing a Battle Center report committee.

“Iʼm sorry, too.” Her voice was always musical, but she seemed to been forcing out her words. “Captain Jallan——”

“Dav.” He snapped out his name, annoyed that heʼd betrayed himself, but after the pool she had no business not knowing his first name.

“Dav.” She said his name quietly and he couldnʼt help focusing on her at the sound of it. Wanting to hear it on her lips again.

She sighed, slumped into a chair as if their conversation had leached all her energy. “What does a music-maker do? Day to day?”

He blinked at the change in topic. “They work on music.”

“Do they mainly sing to a live audience, or record themselves in visual comms, play audio comms?”

Dav frowned. “Live audience?”

“Like a concert.”

He shook his head. “They provide the music at state ceremonies, at important meetings and events.”

“Why havenʼt I heard any of their songs? Iʼm told you love music and music-makers are revered, but you donʼt play the music over the comms, or even in the communal spaces on the ship.”

Dav tried to understand her. “The music is too special to waste in that way. If we played it over the comms, it would lose its power.”

He could see she was struggling with that idea. “Music doesnʼt lose its power, unless you play the same songs over and over too often, then sure, people get sick of them.” She tipped her head back, looking at him with her striking green eyes. “How many songs are floating around at any one time, anyway?”

Dav thought about it. “Ten or so a year.”

She gaped. “Ten? But all the songs from the years before havenʼt gone away, have they?”

Since heʼd met her, heʼd marveled at how like them she was, but for the first time, he could feel the divide, the gap between her culture and his. “Each song is written for a specific event, so no, they canʼt be re-used.”

“Music-makers write songs for specific events, and then sing them once, for that event, and thatʼs it?”

He gave a nod.

She blew out a breath. “Okay, thanks. I can honestly say that wouldnʼt suit me.”

“You would deny you are a music-maker?”

She paused. “I donʼt feel like a music-maker. I know my voice is okay, but it isnʼt great. And I donʼt understand why you wouldnʼt listen to songs more if you love singing so much. The power of it isnʼt diminished by repetition. Itʼs a never-ending well.”

“I donʼt think you understand. To be called a music-maker is a high honor.” Another reason he should never have held her in his arms and touched her. A music-maker had no place on a Battle Center Explorer. “There are only ten music-makers alive in the Grih population at the moment, and two of them are near retirement.”

She waved that off with a flick of her hand. “This is all a moot point, surely, if Iʼm likely to be locked up for mass murder?” She stared at him in challenge as she spoke, and it reminded him of the way sheʼd looked at him on the trip back to the
Barrist
on the runner when heʼd asked her what sheʼd been saying to herself by the river.

It had the same effect on him this time, too. He could feel every sense sharpen, every muscle tense.

“Rose, donʼt joke about that. Thereʼll be a United Council investigation. I believe you were held and abused by the Tecran, but the lens feed of what they did to you isnʼt anywhere my systems engineers can find it, and while the forensic evidence will show where you were kept and for how long, you are alive, they are dead, and you have in your possession some of the best things from their stores.”

A chime sounded in his ear, and the comms system told him Borji wanted to talk to him.

He gave a formal bow of his head. “I have to go. Perhaps you will consider what Iʼve said. I know you know something, Rose. Let me know when youʼre ready to tell me.”

She shook her head as she stood, and looked down at her handheld lying on the side table beside her chair, almost glaring at it. “I canʼt tell you anything.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “I didnʼt ask for any of this. I was happily sipping coffee on the porch of the holiday cottage Iʼd rented, watching the sun rise over the river and singing along to the radio, and the next thing I knew I was in that cell, with Dr. Fliap rubbing his hands together with glee at the sight of me. I really donʼt owe you, or the United Council, anything. If youʼre so worried about what Iʼm capable of, put me back on Harmon.”

She looked so small, bristling up at him. Fierce and angry. And about as dangerous as one of the fluffy kapoots his mother liked to keep as pets.

But still . . . there was something she was hiding. Heʼd bet on it. “I donʼt have any say in the matter anymore, Rose. Battle Center are sending a senior delegation, and Liaison Officer Dimitara has sent for a United Council committee. Youʼre going to have to ride this out.”

She didnʼt reply, merely went to the door, opened it, and then gestured with her arm, in a way that left no doubt she was showing him out. Her face was grim as she closed the door behind him.

He stood for a moment in the passageway, Borji still on hold, and tried to shake the feeling he had lost something. Although he couldnʼt have lost something he hadnʼt had to begin with.

It didnʼt seem to matter, though. As he started back to the bridge, tapping his ear comm to bring Borji online, the feeling wouldnʼt go away.

“
I
hadnʼt thought
through the implications of giving you those bags,” Sazo said as Dav stepped out of her room.

Rose shrugged. “The hyr fabric is perfect, Sazo, and the yuiar smells like home to me, so donʼt be sorry about it. I remember you told me the hyr fabric was expensive, but I donʼt think I comprehended how much.” She circled her neck on her shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had built up.

“Iʼve made some of the lens feed from your time on the Class 5 accessible to Jallanʼs systems engineer. Heʼll think the Tecran hid it to protect themselves.”

She hunched her shoulders, uncomfortable with the idea of others seeing her so vulnerable. The shame wasnʼt hers, but she felt a twinge of it, anyway.

“I didnʼt like the way Jallan spoke to you.”

“I didnʼt either.” She grimaced. “Even though I know he had every right, that Iʼm in the wrong here, I still didnʼt like it.” She suddenly snorted out a laugh. “The fact that I didnʼt like it, felt hurt by it, gave me that extra bit of anger to hide my nerves.”

“Youʼre not in the wrong,” Sazo said.

“Yes, Sazo, I am. We are. Captain Jallan——Dav——is right to be wary. I am hiding something and heʼs responsible for the lives of a lot of people. All he has to do is think of how he found the Class 5, all those dead bodies, and he must worry that it will happen on the
Barrist
. As he says, Iʼm alive, theyʼre dead. Heʼd be negligent in his duty not to give me a good hard look. Iʼm the dark horse here.”

“Dark horse?”

“The unknown entity. The mysterious stranger who no one has any information about, and could be either friend or foe.”

“How does he know, though? How does he know youʼre hiding something? Everything youʼve said is reasonable.”

Rose sat down on the small, comfortable couch and lay across it. “Itʼs hard to lie to someone when you like them, and I really like him.” She closed her eyes. “Iʼm hoping itʼs not a gratitude thing, after he rescued me from that gryak, but even if it is, Iʼm already there.”

“What does that mean?”

“Thereʼs a spark between us. A chemistry. I like him touching me. He seems to like it, too. And in this last conversation between us, he realized he canʼt trust me, and shouldnʼt be snuggling up to the potentially dangerous orange. I mean, he knew that before, I could see it in his eyes at the pool, but now itʼs really clear, with no room for doubt.”

“What happened at the pool? I donʼt really understand what youʼre talking about.”

She sighed. “Thereʼs a first stage in human attraction, and Iʼm guessing this goes for the Grih, too. You take a quick look at someone and from some place in your hind-brain you think: ʽoh, heʼs big and strong, will make pretty babies, and heʼll be up to fending off any saber-tooth tigers who come sniffing around.ʼ He takes a look at you, and thinks: ʽoh, soft, curvy, will make a good motherʼ and then pretty much thinks about all the sex you could have together. Itʼs meaningless, in that you can walk away after thinking that, no harm, no foul, and that would be the end of it. But you canʼt go on to Stage Two without it.

“I would have walked, because Iʼm lying to him about you, and anything between us would be dishonest, but I was swimming in the pool they have on board and all my pent-up feelings just came rushing out. Dav found me there, and comforted me. That comforting sort of veered off-course and became something more . . . sexual. I think we skipped a couple of stages.

“Well, if we were on Earth, that would be true, Iʼll have to see whatʼs on that Grih handheld about social norms in Grih society.”

“So, you want to be
his
sidekick?” Sazo asked.

She gave a laugh. “No. There is no way Iʼd be Dav Jallanʼs sidekick in a million years. Iʼm on equal footing with him, or not at all.”

Sazo was quiet.

“You didnʼt think Iʼd jump ship on you?” She suddenly realized thatʼs what heʼd been asking.

“I didnʼt know.”

“Sazo, I made a promise to you, and despite my better judgment, Iʼve kept it. And Iʼll happily be your sidekick as a full-time job, because you have a lot to offer the Grih as an ally, and if we can somehow purge the Class 5 of all Tecran reminders, I could deal with being on it again. And Iʼm sure Dav and his crew would jump at the chance of exploring their territory with you, but none of that can happen if they donʼt know you exist.”

He made a humming sound, just like she did when she was thinking things over. “So, why wouldnʼt you be his sidekick in a million years?”

She laughed again. “Because that would imply he was in charge.”

“I donʼt understand why you are all right with being my sidekick, but not his.”

She wondered again how old Sazo was. Too young, she thought. Too young, and too powerful. And the Tecran had chained him, feared him, but used him all the same. It made her sick.

“Iʼm all right with it because you came to me with a deal. I could have said no, but I agreed. I got something out of it, and so did you, but the control was in your hands. You might not have known about the concept of sidekicks when you made the deal with me, but effectively, thatʼs what you were asking me to be.” She wondered how to put the next bit in words a young, spooky-intelligent IA would get. “Dav Jallan is attracted to me. Fortunately, or unfortunately, given our current circumstances, Iʼm attracted right back. But if I were to be his sidekick, Iʼd be implying he was the leader and I was the follower. The weaker member of the team. When it comes to that kind of relationship——a romantic relationship——I wonʼt accept anything but equality.”

“A different type of relationship.” He said it as if it had just occurred to him there could be more than one, and her heart broke a little more.

His relationship with her was the only one he knew. Although . . .

“Your relationship with the Tecran was an abusive one. They caged you and used you, and gave you nothing in return. Your relationship with me is one of mutual benefit, and friendship, too, I hope, but youʼre the boss, in that you made the plans, then invited me to join with you. If I ever have a relationship with Dav Jallan, and thatʼs certainly not looking likely, it would be one of mutual attraction and respect, where neither one of us would have more power than the other.”

“You still have power in our relationship,” he said, thoughtful.

“Oh, I wouldnʼt have agreed to work with you if Iʼd had no power. But I have less than you.”

“Like Holmes and Watson?”

“Like Holmes and Watson. Holmes was the one people came to for help, Watson came along as Holmesʼs assistant, and Holmes was better because he was there, and got more enjoyment from his work.”

“I donʼt like the idea of you and Jallan.”

She paused. This was tricky. Sazo could hurt Dav, and that would be on her, if she didnʼt nip this in the bud.

“If itʼs any consolation, Holmes didnʼt like Watsonʼs lover, either. Not at first, anyway. He wanted Watson all to himself. But Watson showed him that having another perspective was good. That they could still be an excellent team with Watson involved in a romantic relationship.

“In fact, Watson showed him that his being fulfilled in all areas of his life was better for him and made him a better friend. Holmes didnʼt seem to need a romantic relationship, but thatʼs because of who he was. Watson did need it. And he was a happier person because of it.” She honestly didnʼt know how much of this she was making up and how much was true of the Holmes and Watson stories.

Holmes hadnʼt like Watsonʼs fiancée, she knew that. Whether he ever got over that dislike, she couldnʼt remember. It didnʼt really matter, as long as she could sell it to Sazo. Who was going to contradict her, after all? She was the Sherlock Holmes expert in this part of the galaxy.

“Iʼm still in the dislike stage,” Sazo said.

“Youʼll get over it,” Rose told him. “Weʼre hardly staring deeply into each otherʼs eyes and declaring our undying love, anyway. He just told me Iʼm suspected of mass murder, and I just politely threw him out my room. And I can only see that getting worse when he finds out about you.”

“If he finds out.”

She sighed. “I made a promise, so itʼs your call, but you should seriously consider it, Sazo.”

“Itʼs better I donʼt.” His voice took on a sharper, more focused tone, and she sat up.

“What?”

“Thereʼs something happening.” He went quiet and she waited, curious.

“Two Grih battleships arrived earlier, as firepower. I knew they were coming, but there is also a United Council delegation on the way in a fast transport vessel, and another ship from Battle Center with some of Captain Jallanʼs superior officers on board. If you would just get me into the Grih system, Iʼd know more, but the comms Iʼm intercepting from the
Barrist
seem to suggest those are the only other starships theyʼre expecting.”

“And?”

“And there is someone else coming. A small, private craft. It signaled the
Barrist
a few minutes ago, but the comm didnʼt go through the main comms center. It went to a private comm.”

“To the captain?”

“No.” There was a trace of amusement in Sazoʼs voice. “I analyzed the captainʼs comm signature when he went aboard the Class 5. It isnʼt to him. It isnʼt directed to anyone who has been on board the Class 5.”

“This was part of your plan?” His tone was too interested, too considering, for it not to be.

“I wanted to lure some people out here and listen in to their chatter.” He spoke distractedly.

“What are you doing?”

“Iʼve intercepted. It was on an old frequency they perhaps thought no one would look out for. But Iʼve recorded it and, just to stir things up, Iʼve made Jallanʼs chief engineer aware of it. Maybe he can smoke out the mysterious receiver of the call. Seeing as you wonʼt get me into the system.”

She ignored the barb. She wasnʼt letting him in unless he swore he wouldnʼt kill anyone. “What does it say?”

“Itʼs all about you, Rose.” Sazoʼs voice got a little more edgy. “Wanting to find out how advanced a sentient you are, and whether youʼre able to articulate what happened to you.”

She gave a snort. “Well, itʼs a bad day for them, obviously.”

He snorted as well, so exactly a replica of what sheʼd just done, she swallowed a laugh.

“I like you, Rose.”

It was so sincere, and so filled with surprise, she smiled.

“I like you, too, Sazo.”

“I never liked anyone before.”

“Iʼm honored to be your first friend.”

“The person theyʼre transmitting to just replied that you are a danger to them.” He was all business now. “I blocked the comm, so whoever is on that private craft wonʼt get that particular message, but Iʼve recorded it and sent it to Borji as well. Letʼs see if he can use the
Barristʼs
systems to find who sent it.”

“You sound like you like him, too. Borji.” The more people he liked, the less likely he was to kill them when they didnʼt seamlessly fit into his plan.

He paused. “I think youʼre right. I donʼt like him as much as I like you, but I . . . respect him. Heʼs been trying to break into the Class 5 comms and weapons systems for over a day, and heʼs been innovative and determined in the attempt. He wonʼt get in, but Iʼve enjoyed playing with him. Itʼs been a fun game.”

“And you canʼt break into his system, either,” she said, then regretted reminding him of the issue between them.

“Youʼre right. He is a worthy adversary.” He made the humming sound again.

She stood, the itchy feeling of wanting to jump out of her skin prickling through her. She needed to get out of this room.

“When will you let me in the system, Rose? Itʼs not just my plan, now, itʼs your safety, too. Someone is coming who means you harm, and thereʼs someone on board this ship working with them.”

She rubbed her face with both hands. “I want to, but I donʼt want to risk the lives of these people, Sazo. I need you to promise me theyʼll be safe.”

“I canʼt do that, Rose. If they turn on me, and they will, Iʼll have no choice but to protect myself. Surely thatʼs my right?”

“Youʼre setting up a situation that has already put them in the firing line, Sazo, dropping the Class 5 here. You may have to defend yourself, but in a scenario you created. Your life doesnʼt depend on being here. You could have found anywhere for us. Avoided this altogether.”

He thought that through. “I need to do this. I need to find out where Iʼm from, Rose. Please, let me in the system.”

She picked up the handheld, tucked it under her arm, then scooped up the Grih handheld as well. “Iʼll think about it.”

“Think about it fast.” He spoke softly. “Time is running out.”