Playing God (48 page)

Esmo leaned against the conference table and folded her arms. She tapped her fingers against her own forearm. “Do you have any idea what they’re doing?”

“I’ve got a really good guess.” He touched three keys on the board, and the view on the wall screen switched from empty vacuum to the creamy sphere of Dedelph.

Esmo paled. “Kaye, you don’t think…”

Keale met her gaze. “You’ve got enemies that have plagued your family since time immemorial. You’ve just taken control of a rock weighing several hundred million tons. What would you do with it?”

“Drop it on them,” said Esmo, grimmer than Keale had ever heard her. “How’d they think of it, Kaye? They don’t even have spaceflight.”

“No, but they’ve been throwing things at their enemies at least as long as we have.” His fist tightened.

“Have you got anything you could go after them with?” asked Esmo.

Keale slumped into the station chair. “Plenty. I’ve got hundreds of completely unarmed shuttles. I’ve got an engineering fleet four days away. I’ve got just under four thou-sand people armed with nonlethal force. I’ve got all of that.” He looked at the sphere. “And none of it is any good.”

“You’ve forgotten something,” said Esmo.

Keale lifted his gaze from the screen. “What?”

Esmo bit her lip, then said, “Another city-ship.”

Keale felt a strange calm cover him over. “Use another ship to ram the
Ur
?”

She nodded. “And soon. If they get too close to the planet, the collision will pour debris and fast-particle masses all over Dedelph.”

She seemed distant, her words a little unreal, but this was real, he told himself. This was more real than anything else he’d ever done. “How many people does it take to fly one of those?”

She shrugged. “Two people and one functioning AI can do it for short distances.”

He met her eyes across the gulf his unwilling mind had created. “Can you teach me what I need to know in time?”

She blew out a sigh, considering. “You’re shuttle-rated, aren’t you, Kaye?”

He nodded.

“Then, yes, I can.”

“All right. We can take the
Manhattan.
It’s unoccupied.”

Esmo nodded. “I’ll break the news to the admiral.”

“I’ll get the authorization from the veeps, so you can back up what you tell the admiral.”

Her eyes sparkled behind her spectacles with icy amusement. “You know, they might not let us do this.”

Keale shrugged. “Then I’ll be extremely interested to hear the alternate plan.”

They both stood up. He opened his mouth, but she waved him quiet. “It’s my job, too, Kaye, more than it is yours. They terrorized my crew. They shot Rudu’s leg off him. They took my ship out from under me.” Her face went hard and he could see the fury burning hot and alive in her black eyes. “I am not going to let them get away with that.”

“I’ll meet you in the hangar at fifteen hundred then.” His station beeped twice at him.

Esmo jumped a little. “What’s that?”

“Something I’ve been keeping track of. That planetsider, Cabal, has been snooping around the private web. I had a thread drone on his back getting the proof.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It’s probably not worth it, but I’ll send somebody around to get him. See you at fifteen hundred, Esmo.”

“Fifteen hundred.” Esmo left.

Keale sat down at the comm station and typed in a brief command to call up the thread drone that had let him know it was finished with its job.
Business as usual. Attend to security matters. Keep everybody and everything safe. Don’t think about the suicide run you’ve just signed up for. No. Don’t think about that.

“All right, Mr. Cabal,” said Keale, suddenly grateful to Cabal for providing a distraction. “Exactly what have you been up to?”

Praeis walked beside Theia into the Debating Chamber. Everything was the same; marble tables, mosaicked floor, portraits of the Ancestors looking down and the Queens looking expectantly up. What was different was the air in the room. It quivered, with both anger and anticipation. What was also different was the way that Armetrethe hovered behind the sofas the Queens occupied. Five other Council members stood like sisters beside her.

Armetrethe’s cold eyes confirmed what Praeis had suspected all along. She was not being called to report, she was being called to account, and not by the Queens alone.

Oh, Sister, my behavior has finally become too heavy for you to bear?
Her flesh settled against her muscles with a sick heaviness. Theia pressed close to her. Now they both knew for certain why there had been no letter in response to the news that a sister and a daughter had died. Armetrethe had been too busy working on this meeting.

Praeis closed her eyes and raised her hands. “I am returned as ordered, Majestic Sisters. When I left, the strategic situation was as I laid out in my last report. The Humans’ presence has successfully warded off any Getesaph attacks. The infestation is being eradicated, and our arms-sisters are working ceaselessly to refit and repair their equipment and return our fighting capability.”

She waited for permission to open her eyes. It didn’t come.

“Yes, your reports have been quite regular,” said Aires Byu smoothly. “Perhaps you meant this as compensation for your irregular actions.”

Praeis felt her throat close. To her surprise, Theia spoke. “Forgive me, Majestic Sisters. I’m sure my mother understands your meaning, but I, ignorant and childless as I am, do not.”

“You do not?” inquired Vaier Byu. Her voice was heavy and reluctant. Since the Queens were addressing Theia, Praeis opened her eyes.

Vaier Byu was clutching Aires’s hand. “I will explain, then, since your mother has not.” She looked at Theia, but her ears focused completely on Praeis. “Praeis Shin t’Theria began a military action without orders from her Queens. She has used the lives and resources of her Great Family for her own purposes. After which, she entered into a private contract with the Humans to immobilize our military so they could serve their real partners in the Hundred Isles.”

“No,” said Praeis, more to Armetrethe than the Queens. Armetrethe’s ears flattened. Praeis could feel the waves of hatred rolling out of her soul. Her skin shivered and danced as they washed over her.
Sister, Sister, we are the last of our family. Don’t do this. Let me come home. I swear we can come together again.

“It was fine while you were winning, Sister,” Armetrethe said bitterly, and Praeis knew not one of her thoughts reached Armetrethe. “The streets sang your praises. But what did you expect when this Human ‘accident’ happened?”

I hear what you’re really asking, Sister. You’re asking how I let my sister and daughter die? You’re asking how could I rebel against you? You and she decided to take my daughter away from me into the enemy’s islands, and now you blame me because they died.

“Ancestors Mine.” Praeis felt her muscles spasm out of control. “And I’m the one who’s supposed to be insane. Armetrethe, it wasn’t an accident. We are being lied to, but—”

“You hear!” said Armetrethe to the Queens without even closing her first lid. “You hear! She admits it!”

“Armetrethe Shin t’Theria, you will remember we are still your Queens!” thundered Ueani Byu.

“And my Majestic Sisters will remember what they did to help bring this about!”

That was too much even for her Wise Sisters in Council. One of them laid a hand on Armetrethe’s good arm. Her stump beat the air furiously, but she closed her eyes. “My apologies, Majestic Sisters. I am…overwrought at seeing my lost and distant sister, Praeis.”

Oh, good, Armetrethe. Perfect.
The skin shuddered up and down Praeis’s back.
What next? What’s the next line in this scene?

“What answer do you have to make, Noblest Sister?” boomed Ueani Byu.

What answer? I have served and lived and waited and come back to serve again, and you abandoned my daughter and you called me mad and now you call me to grovel in front of you because your enemies have the upper hand and one of them is my last sister who I was fool enough to believe would let me come home…

The room stank, Praeis suddenly realized. The air filled with the scents of fire, fear, stale breath, and blind anger. She took a step forward. The air brushed against her skin like silk. She could feel every draft. She could feel everything. The warmth from the heating pit lapped gently at her left cheek and filled her ear like music. The tiles under her feet each had a unique shape. All their surfaces were delicately, individually pebbled. She wanted to touch them. She would touch them. They felt so good under her palms and knees, rough and cool as her hands traveled back and forth and back and forth. Hands touched her, and that was best of all. She would go anywhere, do anything to keep that feeling, warm and soft and infinitely welcome.

The hands pulled her, and she went with them.

Arron answered the summons to Keale’s office primarily because he didn’t know what else to do. There was only one reason the security chief could have for calling him in; Cabal must have gotten caught.

Keale waved him to a seat at the conference table, and Arron took it. Keale sat at his comm station. Arron had to work to keep his hands from rubbing his forearms, or thighs, or scratching his scalp.

Keale steepled his fingers. “Has Dr. Nussbaumer told you what happened?”

Arron shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to Lynn for a couple of days.”
Or she hasn’t spoken to me, I’m not sure which.

“The
Ur
is moving. We’ve got them plotted. They’re going to drive the ship straight into the t’Aori peninsula.”

Arron felt the blood drain out of his cheeks. “No.”

Keale just looked at him.

Lareet? Umat? What are you doing?
“Can you stop them?”

One muscle in Keale’s cheek tightened. “Yes. If we leave in time, we can intercept them with another city-ship.”

Arron’s hands felt cold. He wanted to jump up and pace the room so badly, his legs ached with the effort of keeping still. “Then what?”

The muscle in Keale’s cheek twitched again. “The ships will collide and, if we’ve timed it right, the debris will fly off harmlessly into space.”

“You’re talking about making a suicide run.”

“Yes,” said Keale again. He lowered his hands and laid them on his chair arms. “And I’d like to talk to you about a way out of it.”

A way out of it? For whom?
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I am hoping you can talk to your friends the Dayisen Rual and convince them to take the
Ur
off its present course.”

Arron said nothing, he just sat there. Keale had just offered him what he’d been aching for since he’d heard about the takeover. Here was a chance to talk to Lareet and Umat and talk them out of…whatever it was they thought they were doing.

Why aren’t I jumping at it?
asked part of his brain.
Because,
answered another part,
you have other things you want to do.

He couldn’t look at Keale anymore. He got to his feet and paced around the conference table. An idea took hold in the back of his mind, and it grew stronger with every step.

Finally, he faced Keale again. He took a deep breath. “There’s only one way it’ll work.”

“What?” Keale looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“I need to be on the ship.” Surprise froze Keale in place. Arron kept going. “If I’m there, and they don’t veer off, they’ll kill a sister. Umat might not consider me a true sister, but I think Lareet might. It’ll create a division between them.” He swallowed. “Divisions between sisters can remove resolve.”

Keale nodded. “It makes sense. All right, you’ll have the dubious honor of coming along.” For the first time, his face softened. “You do realize that if you can’t talk them out of it, you’re going to be just as dead as the rest of us?”

“Oh, yes.” Arron stiffened his shoulders. Now or never. “That’s why I’m going to ask a high price for going along.”

“You’re what?” Keale jerked himself halfway out of his chair.

“I want access to the contingency plans for when the Dedelphi break their contract with Bioverse.”

Keale fell back into the chair, and, to Arron’s surprise, he started chuckling. “I’ve already got six counts of system breaking and entering against your friend Cabal. He says you paid for it. Do you have any idea what I could do to you for that?”

Arron shrugged. “Do you have any idea how little I care? My whole life is gone.” His palm brushed the table as if he were sweeping something onto the floor. “You want my help, all right, but you need me to do this voluntarily. What are you going to do? Tie me up and haul me onboard and put me in front of the screen with a stunner to my head?”

Keale’s face remained impassive. “I’m already doing you a favor by not having you arrested.”

“I know.” Arron straightened up slowly. “Now, I’m asking for another one.”

He’s going to call my bluff,
thought Arron, looking into Keale’s calculating brown eyes.
It’s not going to work. He’s going to see I won’t let Lareet and Umat die if I can help it.

But Keale didn’t say anything. He just swung the chair around and laid his thumb over a key chip on the comm station. After a moment, the station beeped and a drawer slid open. Keale lifted out a piece of paper.

He hesitated. “I just want you to know,” he said without turning around, “that if it was just me, this would not work. I am only doing this because there are other people I do not want to see dead.”

“I know,” said Arron, and he was shocked to realize he really did.

Keale handed the paper to Arron. “Great stuff, paper. Learned about it from the Dedelphi. Humans used it once upon a time. I’ve got no idea why it was abandoned. Absolutely no way to cut into it or tap it through the web. No wandering backups and no shadow records.”

Arron read down the list quickly and felt a chill growing inside him. There was a paragraph about lowering the city-ships into the atmosphere and shifting the angle on the artificial gravity to shake the cities apart. There was a paragraph about letting loose engineered molds to blight an entire harvest and leave the Dedelphi dependent on Humans for their food, delivery of which would be contingent on their good behavior.