Dreamfall (64 page)

Miya freed herself from my arrns. “I’ll take Joby,” she said
softly, her voice almost steady. She was using Joby’s need to pull herself
together one more time, focusing on the one fixed thing left in all our lives.
Joby blinked and shook his head as she gave him back control of his senses.

Natasa passed Joby to her, self-consciously but gratefully,
under the gaze of every Human and Hydran who’d just seen their worst fears for
the future acted out in their midst.

Joby wrapped his arrns around her neck and kissed her cheek,
beamiog, oblivious. I wondered where in the nine billion names of God she found
the strength, the control, to let him see and hear the world around him right
now without seeing it through her mind’s eye—a world bloodred with pain and ash
black with loss. Maybe she found it in his smile.

The near silence of the crowd broke like a wave into munnuring
voices, stunned, querulous, wondering.

Natasa smiled at her, at Joby, as if they were proof enough
that what had been the past between their people didn’t have to be the future—a
smile not meant for the crowd, but one they couldn’t help seeing anyway—one
that said with every choice you made yon lost something, but maybe you gained
something too. He moved forward, with Perrymeade at his side, to face what had
to be done.

The two bodies lay still in a blur of red, silent witness to
the end product of alt prejudice and hatred. I started as I saw Hanjen suddenly
kneeling beside Naoh, gazing at her empty face and staring eyes. His body shook
with soundless grief. He held her limp, lifeless hand like somehow she could
still feel his presence, his anguish, a parent’s love that no amount of
bitterness or disillusionment or even death itself could destroy.

Miya came back to my side, and I heard her soft cry as she
saw/felt Hanjen. Tears spilled down her cheeks at last.

Joby put his hands on her face. “Sad, Mommy—?” he whispered.
His own eyes suddenly shone with tears. She nodded, biting her lip.

I touched Joby’s shoulder, touched Miya’s thoughts, proving
to them that they weren’t alone; proving the same thing to myself.

At Natasa’s order half a dozen guards came back to carry the
bodies away. But Hanjen waved them off as they would have touched Naoh. He
picked her up in his arms, cradling her as effortlessly as a child, then turned
to leave. Guards cleared a path for him and for Natasa and Perrymeade as they
followed him out. More guards dragged away Borosage’s dead weight. Servo drones
moved in behind them to clean up the blood.

The crowd watched them go out of the room, and then they began
to close in on us like a murmuring sea, their words as unintelligible as the
tangled wilderness of their thoughts.

Miya made a choked noise; I felt the grief that had frozen
her to the spot beside me breaking down into panic. She looked toward the
doorway that the others had disappeared through. I realized we’d both gone on
mindlessly standing there, instead of following the others while we could.

“What the hell is going on? What the hell happened—?”
Someone’s hand fell on my shoulder.
Ronin.

I turned to look at him, wondering how long he’d been there
uying to get our attention. I shook my head, beyond words, while inside me I
felt Miya’s desperation begin to take on physical form—the tug, the pull, the
beginning of a change that meant teleportation.

(Yes,) I thought, glancing at her. (Go. Go after them.) “We
have to go ...” I murmured, trying to keep my attention on Ronin.

“Not yet,” Ronin said. His hand gripped my arm. “Not until
you tell me what this means.”

(Go,) I thought to Miya again. (Go on. I’ll handle this.)
She disappeared from beside me, taking Joby with her, leaving her gratitude
behind in my thoughts.

Ronin and Sand both started as she disappeared, their
reflexes getting the better of them—like they were both still afraid, deep
down, of being sucked out of existence themselves. The voices around us crested
in surprise.

Ronin took a deep breath. He looked at Sand as though he
thought Draco’s Chief of Security ought to be doing something more about what
had just happened here than standing with his hands behind his back.

“It’s being taken care of,” Sand said, answering Ronin’s unspoken
question. “I can be of more use remaining here.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by
that—protecting us, or protecting Draco’s interests.

Ronin looked back at me, like he knew Sand wasn’t going to
give him an answer that meant anything. “What the hell happened?” he asked
again, gesturing at the stains disappearing before our eyes as the cleanup crew
of gleaming drones erased the last traces of blood.

“Nothing,” I muttered. I glanced at Sand. “Nothing happened
that wasn’t supposed to.”

“Dammit!” Ronin said. “That woman Naoh killed Borosage—or
did he kill her?”

“It was a murder-suicide,” Sand said tonelessly. “She killed
him; she died. That’s how it happens with the Hydrans. Obviously, she knew the
consequences of her act.”

“But, why?” Ronin shook his head. “For God’s sake, we just
signed a new treaty. The rights her people were fighting for are finally being
given back to them. The members of HARM have been given amnesty.”

“It wasn’t enough,” I said. “For her.”

His expression then said he didn’t know whether to pity her
because she was crazy or resent her ingratitude. Finally the look on his face
was just incomprehension of the alien.

“It’s not so hard to understand,” I said. “There were twelve
treaties before this one ... they were all just words.”

“Words can be deeds.”

“Words can be lies, too. You had to make compromises, didn’t
you?”

“Of course—”

“One was that Borosage stayed on as District Administrator?”

Ronin nodded. “The Draco Board insisted .... “

I shot a look at Sand. “I’ll bet they did.” I looked back at
Ronin. “Borosage would have made sure nothing really changed in spite of the
treaty. Like I said, that wasn’t enough for Naoh.”

“He was only a District Administrator—” Ronin protested.

“But he knew where all the bodies were buried,” I said. “I
guess now he’ll be buried there too.”

“Still ... why would she do something like this, when she
knew it would kill her?” Ronin waved his hand.

“Because ...” I glanced at the crowd of vips beginning to
drift apart, slowly heading back through the wide arch into the larger hall
where the treaty table still shone like an altar. “Because she couldn’t see any
other Way.”

His face said he still didn’t understand. But then, I hadn’t
expected him to.

“It was unfortunate that this—incident had to happen in the
midst of the treaty signing, of all places. But there was no real harm done,”
Sand said, “to anyone who didn’t deserve it. We’ll assign Natasa to Borosage’s
post, as you originally wanted us to. The Hydrans hated Borosage; they can only
be relieved by that change.” He smiled faintly. “I expect we all can.”

He looked away across the room, like he was trying to find
even one person who’d be sorry Borosage was gone. “And now we’re all free of an
unstable Hydran troublemaker as well. As far as the purposes of this gathering,
nothing really happened—just as Cat said.” He looked down. The rug was
spotless.

Ronin controlled a grimace. I watched him reabsorb his
disgust until no more emotion was left on his face than on Sand’s. The scars
from his accident at the interface barely showed now but I knew they must still
be on his mind. He did this sort of thing for a living; I wondered how he stood
it. “I see,” he said, and he didn’t say anything more.

“Well, then,” Sand murmured. “If everything has been explained
to your satisfaction, why don’t we join the rest of the representatives in the
banquet room and celebrate the good that has been accomplished here?” He
gestured toward the doorway the rest of the crowd had disappeared through.

“Wait,” I said. “What about my databand?” I held up my
wrist. A strip of healing skin showed where the bond tag had been fused to my
flesh. There was still no databand to cover it up. Ronin’s was safely back on
his wrist, but nobody had said anything about mine.

Ronin looked at my wrist. He glanced at Sand.

“It will be waiting for you on the ship that takes you
off-world,” Sand said.

“What—?”

“Tau has revoked your passport,” Ronin said, not looking at
me. “You’re being deported.”

I shook my head. “What are you talking about?” Suddenly I
remembered what Borosage had said just before Naoh had attacked him. “That was
Borosage’s idea. He’s dead. I—”

“It wasn’t just Borosage’s idea,” Ronin said, making eye contact
finally. “Cat”—his empty hands gestured at the
vil
—”you almost
single-handedly set in motion the events that led to this treaty agreement.
That’s an incredible accomplishment. But if you think that makes you a hero to
the people of Refuge, think again.”

“Do you mean the people? Or the Humans?” I said sourly. “Or just
the Tau Board and Draco? Who do you think they really hate more, you or me?”

He frowned, his mouth thinning. “No doubt they hate me, because
I represent the power to actually make change happen. But that power also
protects me. I can’t guarantee you the same kind of safety.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I said. “I can take care of myself.”

Sand made a soft noise of amusement as he glanced at my
bare, scaffed wrist. “All that aside,” he said, “not only will neither Draco
nor Tau take responsibility for your safety if you remain here—we have the
legal right to deport you. Under corporate law, you are guilty of everything
from using profanity in public to sedition. If you were to stay on Refuge, we
would have to prosecute you on all charges.” He shrugged. “Borosage got what he
deserved,” he murmured. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“The agreement said amnesty for all HARM members—”

“But you’re not Hydran. You’re a registered cttizen of the
Federation. We didn’t take your databand away from you, after all. You lost it.”

“Tau’s CorpSec tortured me! I was illegally detained as a contract
laborer! You want to talk about crimes—”

He held up his hand. “Spare me ... spare yourself. The
decision has already been made. It will not be changed. Now, if you’ll excuse
me.” He walked away and left us standing there.

I faced Ronin again. “They don’t have the right. Tell
[ip
—”

Ronin’s eyes were nothing but shadow. “I can’t do anything.
It’s one of the points we had to grant them during the treaty negotiations. In
order to get your record cleared of Tau’s criminal charges, we had to agree
that you would leave Refuge.”

“You son of a bitch,” I said. “You can’t do this to me.”

“You broke the laws of this world, dammit!” he said, his
voice rising. “You saved my life, but you also broke the law! I got you
everything you wanted for the Hydrans, to the best of my ability! But to do
that, I had to make compromises. That’s how it works.”

“That’s not good enough.” My eyes blurred; I looked away.
Miya
—

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I wish it was.” And I knew from
his voice that he was thinking just like I was of Miya, and Joby: he’d seen us
together, he knew what they meant to me. He understood what this was going to
do to us .... And he was sorry. But that didn’t change anything.

“Goddamn ....” I turned away, my voice shaking, filled with
a pain so deep and sudden that it made me want to cry out. I searched the
building with my thoughts, searching for Miya. But she’d disappeared from my
mind like she’d disappeared from the room, her own thoughts focused completely
on Joby or on death.

Ronin was just as silent behind me, like he was waiting for
me to get control of myself. Or maybe he just had no idea of what to do next,
any more than I did.

I turned back, finally, because I couldn’t stand here in
this empty hall forever, with Ronin hovering at my back like a bug hypnotrzed
by a light, turning my grief into some kind of freak show. “... got to find Miya,”
I said, managing to keep my voice steady as long as I didn’t look at him. I
headed for the doorway that Miya had gone through.

“Cat,” Ronin called, behind me.

I stopped, my hands tightening into fists, but I didn’t turn
around. “What—?”

A holographic image of Natan Isplanasky appeared suddenly in
the air in front of me: “I wanted to thank you,” he said. His disembodied head
looked me straight in the eyes, like he could actually see me. “And I wanted to
ask whether you’d consider doing the kind of work Ronin does, for me, for the
FTA—”

I let out a laugh of disbelief. I stood there, still
laughing out loud, as I gouged out his phantom eyes with my trembling thumbs. “You
bastards
—!” I shouted as I turned back to Ronin. “You know what?” I wasn’t
laughing now. “The last time the FTA asked me to work for them, they’d just
buttfucked me too.”

He looked at me blankly.

“The telhassium mines on Cinder: a combine conspiracy, a
psion terrorist called Quicksilver. The FTA used some freaks—and I mean
used
—to
bring him down. Maybe you remember.”

He remembered. “That was you? You were one of them?”

“Tell Isplanasky he’s mistaken me for somebody who gives a
shit,” I said, turning away again.

“He told me what you did for Lady Elnear taMing,” Ronin
called out. “I know what you did here. I don’t think he’s mistaken.”

I stopped again, not turning back this time. “You’ve been wrong
before,” I said thickly. I blew through Isplanasky’s image like it was smoke
and went on across the room.

“Think about it,” Ronin called. “Just think about it—”

I forced my hands open at my sides. I made it to the doorway
without breaking down, and went on through.

Three faces looked up at me together, from where three
people crouched like one around Naoh’s body. Natasa was gone, and he’d taken
Joby with him. I realized from what showed on the faces of Hanjen and
Perrymeade as they slowly got to their feet that they already knew what I’d
just found out about my future, or lack of one. I choked on the wet ash of
guilt and pity in their stares. Miya looked up at me, and I felt her
incomprehension, dulled by grief. She caught my strengthless hand, pulling
herself up, and her mind opened floodgates of
love/loss/pain/need/love.