Morgan's Return (10 page)

Oh, he made her smile. Ellen sat beside him. "I've got some things to do. Will that be all right?"

All right as long as he could sit on her. He swaggered over and insinuated himself on her lap, turning himself around a couple of times before he subsided, purring.

Ellen brought up the image of the two men who'd been with Selwood on Iniciara. Ex-Admiral Ashkar Ravindra and Sudam Prasad. Licking her lips, she ran the footage of the fight again. Both men fought with almost feline grace, effortless and fluid; and Ravindra had picked up Selwood as easily as if she was a doll. Strange that Selwood, who always despised rank, should end up with a man like that. Then again, maybe it was just a working relationship. The record said Selwood was registered as the engineer on
Curlew
, after all. What's more, there had always been three of them; her and the two men. Maybe this was a threesome? Ellen certainly wouldn't put it past Selwood. The very thought was enough to send a throbbing tingle to her groin.

Tom shifted on her lap and began to knead, digging the points of his claws into her skin just enough for her to register his presence. Ellen ran a hand down his silken back and he settled again.

And now she'd better see what she could find out about the delightful Admiral Ravindra. She sought out the data port on the wall and requested a connection with the intelligence system. What was known about Coromandel?

The planet appeared in her mind, the usual blue-and-white ball, the inner-most world of a four-planet system. Coromandel had resisted becoming a part of the Coalition, despite numerous attempts, but relations with the Coalition were cordial and they transacted their business in Galactic Standard. Sensible.

Ellen delved into the intelligence data, drawing out images and reports about the power players on the planet. No Ravindra. Even if he had retired a few years ago, he should still be listed here. The Coalition had kept an eye on its independent neighbors for a long time. No Marion Sefton or Sudam Prasad, either; but then she hadn't expected there would be. Perhaps a different name? But none of the images for the power players matched Ravindra, either.

Ellen withdrew from the systems. "Come on, Tom," she said, hoisting the complaining cat over her arm. "I need a cup of tea."

Tom draped himself around her shoulders while she found a cup and pushed it under the dispenser.

So Admiral Ashkar Ravindra didn't exist. Hot fluid splashed into her cup, wafting the rich fragrance of mountain blossom. Not on Coromandel, anyway. Who was he? Where did he really come from? And more to the point, where had Selwood been for near on two years? And why was she back?

Ellen strolled back into the living room and sat, the cat still ensconced around her neck. She sipped at the tea, feeling the warm fluid trickle down her throat. "What do you think, Tom? Has she defected to… somebody? Doesn't really make sense, does it? And why did they go and visit the museum and the cathedral?"

"Oh." She jerked upright, causing Tom to leap to the floor, hissing. The Conflagration museum. And they'd inspected the paintings of the war at the cathedral. Everybody knew the illustrations were fanciful, that no-one really had any idea what the war machines had looked like. Would that be what they were looking for, she and the obviously military man she worked for? The real plans for the fabled war machines?

Ellen put the cup down. Should she tell Makasa? The thought went in one side of her mind and out the other. Admit she'd lied to him? That Selwood was back and she'd tried to kill her? The cat sat at Ellen's feet, his tail curled neatly over his toes, his yellow eyes on her face as she drained the last of her tea.

"Maybe I'll just watch and wait, Tom. She'll be coming here. I'll set up the system to tell me when she arrives. I'll follow her, find out what she knows." She swept the cat up and twirled him around in a dance. "If I can find the design for the war machines I'll be famous, as well as getting those admiral's stars." She stopped, gazing deep into his eyes. "And then I'll get rid of her."

In the meantime, how nice it was to be back home, in her own bed. She snuggled under the covers, Tom's familiar weight at her feet. The image of ex-admiral Ravindra rose in her mind. He'd make a wonderful addition to her collection. She started the Playmate simulation with a thought, reveled as she found herself in a virtual reality where she was the only woman and men did whatever she wanted them to do. Her current favorite was ready and waiting, a smile on his handsome lips. Ellen dismissed him, loading Ravindra's avatar in his place.

"Come here, Ashkar. I want you to kiss me. Every single bit of me."

The avatar advanced, naked and ready. Ellen squirmed in the bed, moisture pooling between her thighs.

Chapter 8  

M
organ found Prasad sitting with Jirra, frowning at his work station. "Hello. Have you discovered anything interesting?"

Jirra jerked upright, the smile fading from her face. "Sudam was just showing me the book."

Morgan raised her hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

But Jirra was on her feet, heading for the hatch. "I'll see you later," she said over her shoulder as she stepped through.

Well, well. Morgan turned to Prasad, who leaned back, stretching his shoulders, a copy of one of the books they'd bought from the Conflagration Museum open on the screen in front of him. "It hasn't been easy, given it's in an older version of your language."

"No, I guess not." She subsided into the chair Jirra had vacated. "What's with you and Jirra?"

"Nothing. We're all in this together, aren't we?"

She couldn't read Prasad. Ravindra, yes, unless he really didn't want her to, but Prasad was a past master at hiding his emotions. She guessed it came with the job. You didn't get to intelligence chief by broadcasting your thoughts and emotions to everybody.

"It's all right, really it is. I think it's great for her. I know she's not really happy in her marriage."

"The book is little more than a diatribe, a holier-than-thou cleric issuing dire warnings. It was written maybe two hundred years after the events." Prasad's expression hadn't changed. He hadn't said mind your own business, but he might as well have.

"That's what I thought, too, but you might have picked up some things I wouldn't have noticed."

"I don't think so. It's obvious they destroyed the Rosmenyo complex, if we ever doubted it."

Morgan's didn't. She had an eyewitness account, here on her implant. She played it for herself, the vision Artemis had shown her.

A transport stood on a sodden plain surrounded by high fences. Rain poured down. Lightning flared, revealing people behind the fence. And then the fence itself was struck and exploded into brilliant destruction. Bodies littered the ground but the mob trampled over them, running, faces twisted in fury. They converged on the ship, brandishing staves and spears, flinging rocks that bounced harmlessly off the hardened fuselage. The ship fired back. More bodies fell. A voice spoke, male, tired. '
Go, Artemis. I can’t get to you.' The attackers broke into the transport, Morgan saw a swift view of contorted faces, clubs and the vision failed.

The priest had devoted a whole chapter to the great Arch-demon Zenji, who corrupted humans and sent them out to do his bidding. Rosmenyo was accused of being a high priest to the demon. Superstitious drivel. Then the priest described how a righteous army had destroyed the heretic's works. Righteous army. Sure. She'd rather believe Artemis's version. Regardless, it was clear the historians had excavated the site and found nothing.

What had she expected? Morgan had read the books, and hadn't found anything more than they already knew, amidst the warnings of the consequences of using intelligent machines. She hadn't known whether to laugh, or get mad, especially when she reached the preachy bit about how their god would smite the wicked users of technology.

"In this crazy religion, you would probably be seen as the devil herself." Prasad cocked an eyebrow.

She grinned, leaning an elbow on the desk and supporting her cheek on her fist. "Probably. We've come a long way, haven't we?"

"Is this why they created people like you? A kind of interface, someone who thinks like a human but with machine attributes?"

"Guess so." Morgan had been told the history at school and in her training and found the reasoning absurd. Reading this ancient priest's words, written relatively soon after the Conflagration, brought the message home. Imagine what a megalomaniac Supertech could do? No wonder Makasa had tested her.

Prasad's lips jerked as he studied her face. "You don't know what to do, do you?"

"There's nothing in this to go on. No leads, nothing real. We'll have to hope there are more records on Torreno."

"There is a museum?"

"Yes, there are records at a few universities—but there's a main center on the Conflagration at the Torreno National Library. That's where I thought we'd start." Morgan didn't say the rest. Prasad would probably realize it wasn't going to be easy.

"Did you look at the original document this translation was taken from?" Prasad flicked his fingers at the screen. He meant the digitized copy of the actual manuscript held in the cathedral, which had been included with the texts they had bought.

"It's very hard to read. I think the scholars did a bit of guessing here and there." The pages, made from pulped plant materials, were tattered. Here and there, the material had disintegrated or the print had smudged.

"I'll take your word on that. What about the pictures?" Prasad moved the display to the appendices at the end of the book and brought up one of the images, a photo of a group of people at a gathering. A smiling man, identified as Doctor Rosmenyo, was being handed a document.

"Do we really care what Rosmenyo looked like?"

"Maybe not, but what about the others? And are there any clues in the setting?"

"Not for me. But the folks at the Library might be able to help." Morgan stood. "Guess I'd better get up to the bridge. We should be coming up on Torreno very soon."

Prasad smiled. "I'm still finding it hard to get used to the speed of transit through shift space."

She paused, resting a hand on the back of the chair. "It's amazing, isn't it? Iniciara isn't the farthest planet from Torreno by a long shot but even so, it would take a military transport twenty days and we're doing it in ten. And we could've done it in less if I'd pushed us through to another dimension."

"Our ancestors must have had similar technology."

"Yeah. That or time travel." She tapped the chair back. "I'll see you later."

Jirra sat in the captain's chair on the bridge, her eyes on the instrument array. Judging by the tension in her shoulders, she knew Morgan had arrived and wasn't in a mood to talk. "Everything okay?" Morgan asked.

Jirra nodded. "All routine, as you'd expect. I did the last check a few minutes ago."

She meant the usual hourly cycle, where whoever was on duty went through a checklist which included a visit to the engine room. The ship's information system would have reported an error before a human would notice, but it didn't hurt for everyone to be familiar with all the systems and the hardware.

"You seem to be very good friends with Prasad," Morgan said, sinking into the engineer's chair.

Jirra didn't look at her. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes. So why is it a secret?"

"It's not," Jirra said, shaking her head. "But I don't want the admiral to get the wrong idea. Or Captain Davaskar."

Ah. So you are sleeping with him
. "Why should they care? Especially the admiral."

Jirra glowered. "You know what our society is like. He's married and I'm of a different class. It's not done."

"Garbage. Half the men in the senior officer corps spend their off-duty nights with women other than their wives."

"That's different. They can easily find a woman not in their direct line of command. On this tiny ship—"

"It doesn't matter. Look, I know you're betrothed, but I'm guessing yours isn't the most wonderful marriage prospect."

She looked away for a moment. "No, it's not. My father decided when I was a little girl, that I would marry his friend's son. And that was that. Nobody asked me what I wanted." Frowning, Jirra pressed her lips together.

"What about your mother?"

"Huh. My mother? She couldn't wait to get me out the door."

That sounded familiar. "Yes, same with me."

Jirra stared. "You too?"

"Sure. They don't tell you you're a Supertech until you're older. You're supposed to grow up in a normal home, like a normal kid." How they thought that was possible was beyond her. But she'd asked one or two of the other Supertechs, and they said they hadn't shown any special skills until later. Maybe she'd just been odd.

"How do you get this Supertech skill?"

"An operation when you're a baby. They don't ask, they just do it. And they don't tell anyone it's been done."

Jirra gazed at her as though she was seeing Morgan for the first time. "I never thought it would be like that for you. So you were forced, as much as I was."

"You could say that. Did you want to do your time in the Fleet?"