The Dark Imbalance (3 page)

Appropriate,
she thought.

“You wanted to talk to me,” he prompted.

She paused, wondering, then asked: “Are you reading my mind?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Just answer me, Cane.”

“No,” he said. “I’m not reading your mind.”

“Could you, if you wanted to?”

He frowned. “Morgan, why are you asking me these questions?”

She held his gaze for a moment, then let it wander back to the screen. “On the way here, I talked to Maii. She told me in detail everything she’d picked up from the
irikeii
before he died. She says...” Roche sought the words, not sure she herself understood everything the young reave had told her. “She says that the
irikeii
was like a pit, sucking in thoughts. For him, minds were lights, or suns, and he was the black hole dragging them in. He experienced the universe through the minds around him, like a reave but with less selectivity; he experienced everything at once, all at once—which was why the Kesh and Linegar Rufo had him kidnapped. Once Palasian System had been enclosed he was able to search it thoroughly. And nothing could hide from him.”

“Not even a clone warrior,” said Cane.

Roche nodded. “In theory.”

“It makes sense,” Cane went on. “Had it worked, the advantage might have outweighed the inevitable backlash.”

“It
did
work. To the
irikeii,
Jelena Heidik and you stood out like supernovae, by far the brightest things he had ever seen. He called you ‘The Shining Ones.’ “

“We radiate thought,” mused Cane. “Is that what he meant?”

She studied him closely; he was still frowning, although now apparently at the puzzle posed by the
irikeii,
not at her. “Possibly,” she said. “But we have no evidence to back it up.”

“So...?”

“So there’s more to it than that.” Roche leaned forward slightly in her seat. “Maii says that one of the
irikeii’s
last impressions was of your mind while under the influence of Xarodine. He was aware of a dark space behind the glare—a dark space similar to the one inside his own mind. He thought you and he might have had a lot in common.”

“I don’t see how that follows.”

“Obviously the metaphor is strained.” She couldn’t tell if Cane was prevaricating. “As far as I can understand it, he thought that you too could absorb thoughts from the people around you. You’re a sponge, soaking everything up. And the glare he described—”

“Was just a form of camouflage?” Cane finished. “Something to hide our epsense ability?”

Roche nodded slowly. “Something like that, yes.”

“I am unaware of any such ability, Morgan,” Cane said evenly.

“But how can I be sure you’re telling the
truth
? How do I know you’re not reading my mind right now?”

“Because I give you my personal assurance, Morgan.”

She studied him for a few moments. He was perfectly still, hands folded in his lap, eyes not leaving hers for an instant. Even at rest, the air of strength remained with him. She had seen how fast he could move; she knew what he was capable of. And having witnessed what his siblings could do if they turned against the people around them, she was reluctant to trust him without reservation. She needed reassurance.

“That’s all well and good,” she said, “but I still can’t help wondering. Heidik knew we were coming here; she even knew when. I can’t believe it was just a good guess—so who told her? The COE squadron we left behind at Palasian System might have sent word to expect us, but how would she have got hold of that information? We were less than a day behind her. That’s not long enough to infiltrate the COE presence here. We haven’t even
found
them yet.

“And I keep thinking of that dark speck—and Maii. She’s proof that epsense ability can be bioengineered. If you
were
made to blend in and to fight, what better way could there be to gather intelligence than to act as an
irikeii
—passively absorbing data from the minds of the people around you? Even if you couldn’t actually read minds, you could at least see and hear through them—and maybe even communicate with others like yourself. If these black specks linked up somehow, you could share information, talk, plan, whatever you needed without anyone knowing.”

“Yes—
if
,” said Cane. “But ask yourself this, Morgan: if I
was
in touch with Heidik or any of the other clone warriors, why would I be here? My siblings were clearly made for a purpose; they have spread across the galaxy seeding dissent and destruction wherever they go. But I have not. So
why
would I bother with you if I shared their goals? Why would I not be with
them
?”

“Evidence of absence is not absence of evidence.”

“Guilty until proven innocent?” Cane smiled slightly. “I’m surprised at you, Morgan.”

“There’s too much at stake to take chances, Cane.”

“The only way to be sure is to take no chances at all.” His smile disappeared and he relaxed back into his seat. “Space me, or imprison me—get me out of the way entirely. Better to do that than to be perpetually in doubt. The chance that I might betray you will never leave your mind until I am gone.”

She nodded. That had occurred to her. For all the times he had saved her on Sciacca’s World, the casual cruelty and treachery of Jelena Heidik had tainted him in her eyes. She would never be free of it.

And if he ever
did
betray her, she stood to lose everything.

Not just her life, but the lives of her companions and every other Pristine in the galaxy.

She wasn’t sure she had the right to take that chance.

<1 know that if he could read minds, he would know that I continue to exist,> said the AI smoothly.

Roche fought a twinge of annoyance. Why did things have to be so uncertain all the time? She would welcome a single, uncomplicated fact with open arms.

added the Box,

“Morgan?”

She looked over at Cane to see him watching her suspiciously.

“Are you all right?” he said.

She brushed his suspicions aside by ignoring the question altogether: “If you
were
reading my mind, you’d know that spacing you isn’t an option. And as there’s no way you can prove conclusively that you’re not in communication with the other clones, then all I can do is follow my gut instincts.”

Cane nodded. “But again, I assure you that I am telling you the truth, Morgan.”

She remembered the words he had tapped in code shortly after he wakened from his coma:
I’m as Human as you are
. That was patently untrue in the details—after all, she was not a genetically engineered combat soldier designed to blend in with the Pristine Humans and kill them—but in essence it might not be far from the truth.

“Okay.” She exhaled slowly. “I’ll believe you. Commander Gent must have sent word to his superiors after we left Palasian System. It’s possible that Heidik already had a contact in the COE Armada, through which she found out when we were due to arrive. That’s the only alternative I can think of.”

“It is certainly a less speculative hypothesis.” There was a glint of humor in Cane’s eyes. “But if the rest of my siblings
do
communicate by epsense, I would be keen to find out why I have been excluded from the conversations.”

That was a point Roche had not missed. “Maybe something went wrong with you: your capsule was damaged, or corrupted. There might even be others out there like you—others who could help us
“

Before Roche could pursue the thought, Kajic’s image appeared in the empty corner of the suite.

“My apologies again, Morgan.”

She swiveled to face him. “Problems?”

His broad, pleasant face was concerned. “I have been ignoring hails as you instructed, although their numbers are increasing—as is the number of ships following us. There are eight currently matching our course, and I have detected emissions from another five suggesting that they might also attempt to do so. No one has actually made a move against us; although it is difficult to project the precise makeup of the regions ahead of us, I am doing my best to keep us out of any regions where forces are massing. But we can’t keep this up indefinitely; sooner or later, we
will
miscalculate.”

Roche could see what Kajic was saying: they ran the risk of running headlong into a trap. “So you suggest we stop running?”

“No, Morgan. There’s something else.” Kajic changed the view in the screen to a recent telemetry display. The eight ships tailing them were marked clearly in red; a handful in yellow were the ones he suspected were about to join the convoy. As Roche watched, one green dot darted into view from off-screen, angling down and toward her to match velocities with the white
Ana Vereine
at the center.

“Is that real-time?” she asked.

“Yes. This happened only a minute ago. I should point out that I am currently accelerating at seventy percent of my design tolerance.”

The green dot braked effortlessly to a relative halt a hundred kilometers away. “What the hell is it?” Roche asked.

“A large drone or singleship. I’m not familiar with the design or its markings. But we clearly can’t outrun it.”

“Has it tried to contact us?”

“Not yet.”

“Are we camouflaged?”

“Mildly, only in order to give the appearance of trying. Our position has been well-known since we arrived and we are currently too well-observed to successfully drop out of sight.”

She nodded. “Drop the pretense, then. Hail that drone, or whatever it is. I want to talk to it.”

Kajic’s hologram abruptly dissolved.

Roche stood, and Cane followed her out of the small office. “As you said, Morgan: absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. Just because they haven’t threatened you yet doesn’t mean that they won’t.”

“At the moment, that’s good enough for me.” She assumed her usual station at the first officer’s post. “Maii? Anything?”

said the reave.

“I have a lock on it,” said Haid. “Its E-shields and hypershields are down.”

“I doubt it’s defenseless,” Roche said, watching a close-up of the craft on the main screen. It resembled a mushroom in shape: flat, circular cap with a trailing stem five meters long and two meters wide. There were no visible drive outlets or weapons ports. “Whoever it belongs to, they’re more advanced than us.”

“I have a reply,” said Kajic. “The drone is a relay.”

“Open a direct line. Let its source talk to me.”

Seconds later, a voice issued from the bridge’s speakers:

“Welcome to Sol System, Morgan Roche.” The female voice was precise and clipped, and unfamiliar. “The Interim Executive Pristine Council has been expecting you.”

“You’re not the only ones, it seems.”

“Your arrival has created something of a disturbance. As the news spreads, we expect the situation to worsen.”

“Meaning?” Roche wished for an image to give her something to focus on.

“In case you failed to notice, the atmosphere in this system is somewhat tense. There have been many skirmishes in the last few days—even several attempts at outright war. As we speak, Olmahoi forces are preparing to engage the Kesh—acting on information you brought with you. You are a catalyst, Roche, a destabilizing influence. The council would ask you to restrict your activities before you cause more damage.”

“Is that a request or an instruction?”

The woman’s voice sounded amused. “It is an appeal,” she said, “to your better judgment.”

Roche was silent for a moment. “Perhaps you should tell me who you are and what exactly the council is.”

“It might be easier to demonstrate,” she returned. “Turn your instruments to the following coordinates...”

Kajic swung the view on the main screen accordingly, but only starlight dusted the empty space.

“There’s nothing there,” said Roche irritably.

“Give the light a chance to reach you,” said the woman.

Even as she spoke, something appeared on the screen. It looked like a ship, but the perspective was all wrong. Where a dot might represent other craft, there glowed a tiny arrowhead.

“Whatever it is,” said Kajic, magnifying the view, “it’s millions of kilometers away.”

The display was suddenly taken up with a huge vessel, and Roche found herself gasping at its immensity. It was shaped like a long cone flattened on one side, hollow at tip and base and bristling with instruments and weapons emplacements—some as large as the
Ana Vereine
itself. It had to be at least a thousand kilometers long and as much as one hundred and fifty wide; it made COE Intelligence HQ look like a drone.

“You’re seeing the
Phlegethon
,” said the woman. “It’s a consistory vessel of the Skehan Heterodox. You have been invited to approach.”

Roche stared at the screen a moment longer. The name meant nothing to her. “Why?” she said eventually.

“To discuss the situation,” the woman replied. “For the duration of those discussions, at least, we can offer you our protection.”

“Again: why?”

The woman hesitated slightly, as though Roche’s suspicion annoyed her. “The IEPC exists to assess the threat presented by the clone warriors you seek. To do that, we must gather as much information as possible. Contacting you is an important part of that process. Understand, Roche, we are not asking you to join forces; we are not asking you to surrender control to us. We ask merely to exchange information, in return for which we will get your pursuers off your back.”