Raising Caine - eARC (60 page)

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Site One; Delta Pavonis Three

Downing motioned toward a folding table that Commodore Cameron’s teams had set up to process the CoDevCo employees into detention groups. “Mind if we sit?”

Caine shook his head, pulled out a chair, let Downing settle into his own before he declared, “Let’s not play charades, Richard. Just tell me why you’re out here. You told Yiithrii’ah’aash that you were already on the move, but were able to ‘divert’ to Delta Pavonis. But every time you’re on the move, you seem to be coming to find me. So, let’s get that out in the open and dealt with: what do you need from me, Richard?”
Because after we finish our business, we’ve got some personal matters to settle.

Richard looked down at his folded hands. “Well, it just so happens we have a situation—”

Caine threw his head back and laughed. “Downing, you are too much. I haven’t even finished this mission, and you’ve come out here to send me on another?”

“This isn’t my doing, Caine. You were asked for by name.”

“Oh? By whom?”

“By the New Families of the Hkh’Rkh. Specifically, by Yaargraukh.”

Caine straightened. “Yaargraukh survived Jakarta?” The two-and-a-half meter Hkh’Rkh, a pipsqueak for his species, had been a confidante, a being of great honor, a friend.

Downing nodded. “He survived and was repatriated. His circumstances are difficult, since the Hkh’Rkh leadership that brought him on the campaign was decimated. Their First Fist was killed in Indonesia and First Voice remains missing. With no one to vouch for Yaargraukh, or his version of the events in Jakarta, he was returned—ignominiously, I believe—to his home on a colony world in a system they share with the Arat Kur. Turkh’saar, they call it.”

“I appreciate the news, but I don’t see what—”

“Caine, the situation developing on Turkh’saar could have extremely serious repercussions for the Consolidated Terran Republic, and possibly the peace, and Yaargraukh has asked for you to go and help with the matter.” Downing leaned forward. “You two always understood each other, had a bond from the first time you met. I don’t think he fully trusts any other human to be impartial, given what’s happening in his home system.”

“And
what
is happening there?”

“According to him, off-world raiders have been striking at various targets on Turkh’saar, and they’re leaving scorched earth behind.”

Riordan frowned. “Well, that’s definitely a bad situation, but why do they want to get humans involved in their own internal affairs?”

“Because,” replied Richard, producing his palmtop, “the affair in question is not purely internal. This is part of what the Hkh’Rkh defenders recorded from the raiders’ own tactical channels—just before they swooped in and destroyed another town.” Downing activated the playback function, put the palmtop on the table between them. Sinuous music began rising, uncoiling from it: primitive drums savagely split apart the chords, leaving a rift through which a seductively menacing voice flowed. Its words were dark, enigmatic.

Riordan started, stared at Downing. “That’s—that’s twentieth century Rock. Early in the movement. I think it’s—uh, it’s—”

“‘Paint it Black’ by a group called the Rolling Stones. Original recording, the archivists at Langley tell me.”

Riordan shook his head. “Okay, but—but what do you want
me
to do about it?”

“I, and Yaargraukh, want you to go to Turkh’saar and find out why humans playing twentieth century rock music over their tactical-channels are attacking the Hkh’Rkh—and how that’s even possible, since we can’t even reach that area of space yet. And it’s got to be handled right away, because this has landed in the Hkh’Rkh’s political powderkeg like a lit firecracker. With First Voice still missing on Earth amid accusations that he is secretly being held by us, this incident has whipped their hardliners up into a xenophobic frenzy, convinced them that we have sent a raiding team into their space.”

Caine stared at the palmtop. “But to achieve what?”

Downing shrugged. “They haven’t offered any coherent hypotheses about that, but they also don’t seem to care. Their internal debates—about just how duplicitous we really are, how to respond to this incursion, and who is to succeed First Voice—are now about to tear them apart. According to Yaargraukh, there is increasing talk of a multi-sided civil war.”

Riordan nodded. “Which could propel them just that much deeper into the Ktoran camp.”

“Exactly.”

“And how am I supposed to get to Turkh’saar to investigate this?”

“I plan on asking Yiithrii’ah’aash. Since I will cut some official corners to retroactively ‘allow’ his trip here, he might return the favor by conveying you to the system in question: BD +56 2966. The Slaasriithi conducted a fair amount of commerce raiding against the Hkh’Rkh during the war. Consequently they have both the shift range and the local familiarity to deliver you where you need to go.”

“Operational assets?”

“I’ve brought some personnel who can accompany you. Not a lot, I’m afraid. Clearance for this operation rather limited the selection pool.”

Caine turned, stared back up at
Puller
, saw a few faces looking down at them from the bridge windows. “And what about the crew who came out here with me?”

“Them? Well, I should think they’ll be happy to go home.”

“Yeah? Will they?” Caine opened his collarcom, his eyes on Downing’s. “Hey everyone, I need you to listen to a situation that’s come up. Richard, tell them what you just told me.”

“Caine, if I do that—”

“Richard, since they are already intelligence risks because of what we saw during our trip into Slaasriithi space, how much more hot water can they get into by hearing about current events on Turkh’saar?”

Downing returned Riordan’s stare, then shrugged and told the whole tale again.

There was a long silence, broken by Miles O’Garran: “Man, that is some serious shit.”

Caine couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, it is. And here’s why I had Mr. Downing share it with you: you’ve got a choice to make. Either you go straight back to Earth or you go straight back out into the field to investigate this very serious shit. I have no idea what we’ll find there, or if we’ll make it back. Frankly, I’m not sure of anything about this mission: my ignorance is absolute. But you all know what going back to Earth could mean: extended debriefs, protective custody, god knows how many years living in secure facilities, safe houses, whatever. You’ve seen, and you know, too much to be allowed out in general circulation. Or am I exaggerating, Richard?”

“Caine, I would not impose that kind of cloistering on any of your—”

“I’m not talking about you, Richard. I’m talking about the people you answer to, who can trump any assurances you might give us. On a whim. Am I exaggerating what
they
are likely to do?”

Downing looked away. “No.”

Caine turned and looked at the nine faces now crowded against the bridge windows, spoke into his collarcom. “I can’t guarantee you anything except that whatever we face, we face together. And maybe, when we come back, we can cut a deal to stay out of a facility for people who know too much. If, on the other hand, you want to go back to Earth, I can get Richard to promise you, with one hand on his heart and the other on the Bible, that you won’t wind up in one of those ultra-secluded country clubs. But how much that promise is worth—well, you’ll have to make that decision for yourself. I realize you might need some time to think about it, so there’s no ru—”

“We’re coming with you.” It was Karam. “We’re not stupid; we know how this would go down.”

Bannor’s voice went over the top of Tsaami’s. “We all make a pretty good team. We think it best if we keep it that way, if that’s all right with you. Commodore.”

Caine felt a tightness behind his eyes, nodded at them, turned back to Downing. “They’re coming along for the ride.”

Downing was gazing steadily at Riordan. “So I hear. They seem a fine group, Caine.”

“They are. Every damned one of them.” He realized his collarcom was still on, slapped it off. “So are we done with business?”

“We are.”

“Then I’ve got some personal questions to—”

Downing suddenly looked nervous. And tortured. “Caine, about Elena, about what happened—”

“Richard. This is not a prelude to recriminations.” Riordan swallowed; it felt like there was a baseball in his throat. “I get it; I get what happened. I thought about it a lot on the way out here. You didn’t really have any—”

“No, Caine. No. Enough is enough. My culpability goes deeper than you know and I’d rather have you angry—homicidally furious—at me, than live with this any longer.” Downing’s eyes were suddenly red-rimmed, almost rheumy. “Elena should never have been in Jakarta; she should never have been involved in any of this. For bloody Christ’s sake, she’s my godchild; I held her on my knee. She called me Uncle Richard as soon as she could talk.”

“Richard, I know you must feel—”

“You know what I feel? Really?” Downing jabbed a finger at Caine. “You have every right to hate me, to despise what I’ve done and how I’ve failed her. But don’t tell me you know what I feel, Riordan. Added altogether, you’ve known Elena Corcoran a few weeks. I knew her for almost her entire life. If I had one meal with her, I have had, literally, a thousand. She babysat my daughter, took her around with Connor sometimes when they were both small—and when she was still devastated by losing you, though none of us knew anything about that at the time.” His face contorted, grew red. “And this,
this,
is the life to which I led her? Boxed up somewhere in a Dornaani medical facility, hovering in the twilight between life and death?” He looked at Caine, furious and pleading. “Why was she ever inducted into IRIS? Why was she a member of the delegation to the Convocation? Why was she in Jakarta? Why was she part of the team who entered the Arat Kur headquarters with you? Why was she anywhere in range of that murdering bastard Shethkador? Because of me, god damn it. Because of me.” He averted his head, his teeth clenched, his whole body leaning sharply away as if he was trying to get out of it, somehow. “God, I could use a drink.”

Caine nodded, then stopped: come to think of it, Richard’s desperation didn’t look merely emotional, but tinged with need, dependence. And was he putting on weight, the kind of waste-flab that comes from drinking too much?

But there wasn’t the time or the opportunity to surreptitiously look for other signs of a man who might be descending into a bottle. There was just enough time for Caine to say the words that had to be said, no matter how much he didn’t want to utter them, but which Downing needed to hear: “Richard, you were just the accomplice. It was her own father who performed the deeds, who got her tangled up in IRIS, albeit indirectly. Who put her through all the misery. You weren’t in a position to stop it. Ever.”

Downing was only half listening. “This is a dirty game, a dirty life, Caine. I’m sorry I got you into it, into all the lies and manipulation and secrets. I’m sorry I ever—”

“Listen,” Riordan said sharply, which got Downing’s attention. Which had been Riordan’s intent: he needed to steer Downing away from the edge of what might become a self-destructive precipice of grief. “Listen,” Caine repeated, “long before any battles were joined, we were at war. But only you and Nolan Corcoran and a handful of others knew it. And you had to get us ready, had to prepare all of humanity. Without us knowing you were doing so. We had to be ready to fight species that were more advanced and expansive than we were. That didn’t give you two any margin for error. And if you and Nolan made mistakes along the way—well, hindsight is 20/20, but real-time is a bitch. The bottom line is, we’re all still alive to complain about it. And maybe patch together a few pieces of our normal lives.” He reached into the front pocket of his duty suit. “Here. I want you to take this back to Earth. It’s for Connor.”

Downing, his eyes still haunted but his face no longer contorted, took the data chip. “What is it?”

“A collection of letters. I wrote one every day of the journey from Disparity to here. Some recordings as well; anything to give him a sense of who I am.”

Downing turned it around in his fingers. “Did you—did you know we were going to send you right out again?”

Riordan shrugged. “I didn’t
know
. But like I told you, it always seems to happen that way. I just presumed that nothing would really be that different this time. And see? It wasn’t.” He exhaled. “So, Elena’s in a Dornaani facility?”

Downing nodded. “On their homeworld, according to Alnduul.”

“Her recuperation seems to be taking a long time.”

Downing raised a hand, let it fall. “Too bloody long, if you ask me. But I haven’t been in direct touch with Alnduul for six months now, and none of the Dornaani I come into contact with have any knowledge of Elena. I’m not even sure her transfer was approved by the Dornaani Collective. Or the Custodians. Alnduul may just have done it on his own authority. May have been skinned alive for it, too.”

Riordan closed his eyes, asked the next awful question. “Who’s taking care of Connor?”

“Trevor mostly, but Connor spends a lot of time with my family. We—we’re doing the best we can by him. But it’s hard. He’s a tough lad, but with his mother dozens of light years away in the care of exosapients—” He raised his hand in an appeal to the skies. Let it fall again.

And Caine thought:
I’ve got to get home. Now.
But Riordan pushed that gut-reflex down with a principled riposte:
No: you’ve got to take care of business, first. And while you do, you’ve got to get enough leverage to make sure that those nine human beings on board the corvette don’t pay for their loyalty to you by spending half of their natural lives as gagged canaries in semi-gilded security cages.
Caine could not meet Downing’s eyes. “Tell Connor I’m coming home as soon as I can. I promise.”

“I will, Caine. You have my word on it.”

“Good. I’d like to have your word on one more thing, Richard.”

Downing immediately became wary. “And what is that?”

“Since you got Yiithrii’ah’aash’s message about what happened on Disparity, you know about Keith Macmillan, right?”