The Prodigal Sun (35 page)

“To do what?” said Roche.

“To help the two of you off the planet, basically. And to gain access to data processors powerful enough for it to discover its full potential.”

Roche absorbed this for a moment, sensing an unspoken implication in his words. “You said
another
ally?”

“That’s right. Adoni Cane was the first. That’s why it let him out of the
Midnight’s
brig and made sure he reached you before the Dato attacked.”

Roche gaped. “The
Box
did that?”

“Of course. I told you there was something screwy about all that. The Box could see what was coming, and made sure you had at least an even chance of surviving.”

“Who is this ‘Adoni Cane’?” said Absenger.

“This is ridiculous!” Chase snapped. “I can’t believe we’re discussing Commonwealth secrets with these people—”

“Be
quiet,
Auberon,” said De Bruyn, her eyes dangerous.

Haid watched the brief interaction with some amusement, and Roche suddenly realized how well he was playing them against each other. Absenger, the politician, the smooth talker; Chase, the reactionary hothead; and De Bruyn, perhaps the most dangerous of the three, sharp and coldly calculating.

“Adoni Cane is a genetically modified combat soldier,” Haid said, as casually as though discussing the weather. “The
Midnight
plucked him from a life support capsule located by its beacon eight days before arriving at Sciacca’s World. The ship’s surgeons examined him in situ, but didn’t have time to contact HQ. The data they collected then, plus more from our own examinations on Port Parvati, makes for very interesting reading.”

The viewtank’s image of Intelligence HQ vanished and was replaced with a three-dimensional scan of Cane, segmented in places to reveal his inner organs. Lines of data scrolled down the corners of the tank, listing metabolic rates, genetic comparisons, cellular structures, neural connections...

Roche studied it in disbelief. This was much more detailed than she’d seen in the rebels’ headquarters. How Haid had managed to get hold of the
Midnight’s
data was beyond her.

Then she realized: the Box again, although why it had gone to the trouble to save the data, then keep it a secret from her and the rebels, remained unknown. For the moment, curiosity about Cane overrode that about the Box.

She could see, now, where the survival capsule had been physically grafted to him at stomach, throat, and thighs via circular wounds that had healed within days of his emergence. The
Midnight’
s chief surgeon’s tentative conclusion was that he had indeed been grown in the capsule and subsequently given a basic knowledge of language and movement by implanted educators. Given the condition of his tissue and the lack of radiation damage suffered while in deep space, Cane appeared to be roughly one year old, although his mental age was far above that. The obvious conclusion was that, although the capsule had drifted for at least a year before being found, the timing of its discovery had been carefully planned. Even with the capsule’s sophisticated organic vats, only superficially examined on the
Midnight,
Human tissue could not have been sustained unharmed for longer than a month or two.

Cane, therefore, wasn’t an innocent cast adrift by some unknown tragedy, lying dormant in the capsule waiting to be rescued. He had been built for a purpose by someone who had
wanted
him to be found. Now. The only question that remained unanswered was: how long had the capsule been drifting before it brought him into being?

No one else in the room seemed ready to ask the obvious questions—questions she had asked back on Sciacca’s World—so she spoke for them:

“To what end?”

The answer came from an unexpected quarter.

“To purge the Commonwealth and its neighbors of Pristine Humanity, of course,” said Page De Bruyn, her voice hushed. “To wreak revenge on the descendants of the people who destroyed the creators of such creatures. Adoni Cane is a Clone Wunderkind, courtesy of the Sol Apotheosis Movement.”

“
Another
one?” said Chase, his face pale.

“It was always a possibility,” said Absenger grimly.

“Will someone please tell me what you’re talking about?” said Roche.

Absenger sighed heavily and opened his hands. “Twenty-five days ago, a similar capsule also containing a single occupant was retrieved by the courier vessel
Daybreak
not far from one of our systems.
Daybreak’s
captain had time to report the discovery, but little else. Before she could transmit a detailed report, all communication ceased and the ship disappeared. Two days later,
Daybreak
reappeared, broadcasting an emergency beacon. The commanding officer of the nearest military base sent out a tug to rendezvous, and took it in for repairs. Not long after, we received garbled messages that the base was under attack—then that too fell silent. By the time the Armada sent a battalion to investigate, the entire system was in flames.”

“None of this was on IDnet,” Roche said.

“You covered it up,” said Haid, speaking not in response to her question but to De Bruyn. “Possibly the greatest threat the COE has ever faced, and you tried to sweep it under the rug.”

“We didn’t
know
what had happened,” protested De Bruyn. “It could have been anything: rebellion, disease, war. We had no way of knowing. But we had to enforce a quarantine to keep people out, to prevent more deaths.”

“Palasian System,” said Roche, finally making the connection.

Absenger nodded. “It was only after the battalion arrived that we managed to piece together what had happened: that some kind of modified warrior had single-handedly taken control of
Daybreak
and gone berserk in the system.”

“How many of the battalion made it back?” asked Haid.

De Bruyn grimaced. “Of twenty ships, only one survived. And from the pictures brought back, not much was left of the system. Now”—she shrugged helplessly— “who knows?”

Roche reeled at the thought. “You’re suggesting that
one person
did this?”

“We’re not talking about a
person
, Commander,” said Absenger. “This is a genetically enhanced being—a Wunderkind—capable of anything.”

“And now we have two of them,” said Chase, his thin face even paler than before.

“You think Cane—?” She stopped in mid-sentence, staring at the image rotating in the viewtank. “I can’t believe it.”

“What can’t you believe, Commander?” said De Bruyn. “That he’s capable of such destruction, or that he would?”

Roche shook her head. “Both, I guess.”

“Morgan,” said Haid, “you’ve seen how Cane fights person-to-person. Imagine him with a ship, or in control of a major weapons array; imagine how much more destructive he could be. If the Wunderkind in the Palasian System has the same potential as Cane”—he too shrugged—”then I don’t find it difficult to believe at all.”

“But that means he’s been drifting for almost three thousand years!”

“Not him; just the capsule.” Absenger’s grim expression showed no satisfaction at correcting her. “He can’t come from anywhere else, Roche. No one designed combat clones quite like the Sol engineers, and according to our records ‘Adoni Cane’ was the name of the commander of the fleet that confronted them—the man whose orders led to their destruction. It’s a deliberate jibe at their enemies; one that’s taken a long time to hit home, but a jibe all the same.”

“The prodigal son returns,” Chase muttered.

Absenger leaned forward. “Yet Cane actually helped the Box?”

“And Roche, too,” Haid said, turning from Roche to face the liaison officer. “
Particularly
Roche, for whatever reason.”

“That does seem unlikely,” mused Absenger. “Perhaps Cane and the Palasian Wunderkind aren’t exactly the same thing, after all. You said that Cane’s capsule was broadcasting some sort of beacon, whereas the first—”

“That’s not what I said,” Haid interrupted. “I said that a beacon had led the
Midnight
to it.”

De Bruyn’s brow creased. “The same thing, surely?”

“Not quite,” said Haid. “You see, the beacon was faked.”

De Bruyn’s frown deepened. “By whom?”

Haid smiled. “Before I answer that, why don’t you explain to Roche why you were so surprised to receive that message we sent you yesterday?”

The sudden change in direction took the three Armada officers off guard. Roche noted the tightening of De Bruyn’s jaw muscles as she fumbled for the words.

“I—” Her face flushed as she glanced from Absenger to Chase. “Her method of arrival was somewhat unorthodox, and—”

Haid laughed at her discomfort. “You people really have a problem with the truth, don’t you?” he said, settling back into his chair and resting his one arm across his lap. “Perhaps I can shed some light on things, then, by way of explaining about the attack on the
Midnight.”

Whatever game he was playing, Roche thought, he was clearly enjoying himself immensely.

“I’ll omit the details of the ambush, if you like. No doubt you can imagine them for yourselves, seeing it went pretty much as you hoped it would when you leaked the
Midnight’
s course to the Dato Espionage Corps. Everything went according to plan, except of course that Roche and the Box managed to escape the destruction of the
Midnight
, and made it as far as the surface of the planet before—”

“Wait a second!” Roche gasped, rising to her feet as his words sunk in. “They did
what
?”

Haid’s eye met hers through the shimmering viewtank. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Morgan, but they obviously weren’t going to. They sold you out. Your mission wasn’t, as you thought, to bring the Box back to HQ for installation. Instead, it was to be captured by the Dato and taken to the Military Presidium. That’s why they were so surprised to see you here: you weren’t
supposed
to return.”

Roche stared from Chase to De Bruyn, then to Absenger. Only the last met her gaze, and he seemed almost amused by her outrage.

“Is this true?” she asked him, fearing the answer even as she said the words.

“Of course it isn’t,” he said quickly—almost too quickly.

said a familiar voice in her mind. Not the Box, but Maii.

Roche closed her eyes; any other time, she might have been glad to hear from the young Surin, but not now. “I
know
,” she whispered irritably.

“Good,” said Absenger. “Then you will also know that the man is clearly paranoid. Quite perceptive in some ways, I’ll admit, but—”

“I wasn’t talking to
you
, you sonofabitch!”

Absenger flinched perceptibly. His voice was cold when he spoke. “Commander Roche, must I remind you—?”

“If you’re going to tell me that I should show some respect to senior officers, then save your breath.” All the frustration she’d felt on Sciacca’s World, all the lengths she’d gone to to complete her mission—every action she’d taken on COE Intelligence’s behalf boiled within her, perverted and twisted into a hideous farce. “Save it for telling me
why
you did it.”

“If you think I’m going to explain myself to—”

“The Box,” Haid cut in, “was designed to infiltrate the Dato from
within
, as Page said earlier.” He leaned forward to emphasize every word, peering through the hologram at Roche. “I was hoping you’d guess, and save me having to spell it out for you. The Box was no use at all to COE Intelligence back here. So they chose a disposable old frigate with a disposable captain, and put a disposable agent in charge of the mission.”

“This is ridiculous!” blurted out Chase as he stood. “This man is lying!”

“I won’t tell you again, Auberon.” De Bruyn’s voice was even and quiet.

Chase stared down at her. “Why should we listen to the slander of criminals?”

“I said
be quiet
!” De Bruyn’s icy and unflinching glare held the man for a full ten seconds until he finally looked away and sat back in his chair.

“Is it true?” asked Roche a second time.

“Yes,” said De Bruyn, facing Roche. “Of course it’s true. We sent you to Sciacca’s World knowing you’d be ambushed. We thought the local government was corrupt enough to handle any extra work the Dato required to finish the job, if things didn’t go smoothly. That’s the main reason we chose the planet.”

“But that’s the trouble with traitors,” said Haid. “They’re unreliable—aren’t they, Absenger?”

The liaison officer shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t comment on this.”

“No?” said Roche. “You’re denying that you had anything to do with it?”

“Don’t be pathetic, Burne,” snapped De Bruyn. “Put your guilt aside and stand up to these people.” Then, to Haid: “Delcasalle is his little puppet. Sciacca’s World was chosen on his recommendation.”

“You sent me in there to die!” Roche snapped.

De Bruyn’s eyes flashed. “Yes. And I’d have no hesitation in doing so again. It was a good plan. The Box needed to be in position before it would be effective, and this was the best way to get it there without arousing the Presidium’s suspicions. It
should
have worked.” She cast a disparaging eye in Roche’s direction. “And I’m still at a loss to understand why it didn’t.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Roche said.

“No, you haven’t,” said Haid. “Not quite. You also need to know
why
their plan fell apart as badly as it did, and what this means to all of us.”

Feeling empty and tired, Roche sagged and sat back down. She had spent her entire adult life in the service of the Commonwealth of Empires, in return for which she had been betrayed. Whatever Haid had left to reveal, she doubted it could match what she’d already heard; she felt numb, beyond all further surprise. “Go ahead,” she said.

Haid stood. In the viewtank, the hologram of Cane disappeared and was replaced by an orbital view of Sciacca’s World; the belt of the Soul sparkled majestically.

“The plan to infiltrate the Dato Presidium with an AI was quite clever, I have to admit,” said Haid. “But it’s flawed at a basic level. For the Box to be effective, it had to be able to operate independently of COE Intelligence for long periods of time; it had to follow its own judgment in times of possible crisis; it had to be able to choose between several different possible courses of action; it had to be able to plan in detail, and to conspire to see those plans come to fruition. To do all of this, it had to be far more intelligent than the AIs the Armada normally uses.” Haid paused, then said, “In short, it had to be self-aware—as self-aware as we are.”