Zero Recall (10 page)

Yet, in all the
time he’d watched the Human, no one had approached him.  No spies came to
whisper in his ear.  He carried no communications unit, received no clandestine
messages taped to the bottoms of glasses.  He looked truly and utterly alone. 
And miserable.

A tingle of fear
crawled its way up the spine of Jer’ait’s Human pattern.  Could his target have
recognized him without a tip-off?  

No.  Not
possible,
he immediately told himself.

Yet the thought
ate at him, gnawing at Jer’ait’s nerves.  As the night wore on, he could not
stand it any more.  He had to know.  He got out his reader and called Yua’nev.

“How many people
know of this Human and my mission?”

“Where are you?”

“Watching the Human
try to kill himself.  Tell me.”

“Can he hear
this?”

“No.  But if he
could, he’s too intoxicated to understand what we’re saying.”

“You said he’s
killing himself?”

Jer’ait lifted
the reader and showed Yua’nev the Human at the bar.

“Ah.  A filthy
habit.”

“Who else knows
I’m supposed to kill him, Yua’nev?”

The
Peacemaster’s perfect, mirror-like eyes showed nothing of his thoughts.  “A
handful of Peacemakers.  No one below Eleventh Hjai.”

Jer’ait
frowned.  “Give me their names.”

“Bek’kiu, Gov’aan,
Gra’fei, Elv’uu, you, and I.”

All of whom
could keep a secret.  Jer’ait scowled, the situation making even less sense.  “Who
did the Trith deliver the message to?  Could it have been overheard?”

“No.  It came to
me directly, secure-feed.”  Yua’nev cocked his head.  “Why?  What’s going on?”

Reluctantly,
Jer’ait said, “It appears you were correct in telling me he could sense Huouyt.”

Yua’nev was not
amused.  “Do the job, Jer’ait.  This is more important than all your other
targets combined.  Do not allow your pride to cloud your sense.”

Jer’ait cut the
feed and glared at his target.

He would wait,
he decided, for the Human to be too intoxicated to run. 

The Human was
halfway through his seventh drink when Jer’ait’s hard grip on his neck made him
stiffen.  Jer’ait extruded several drops of a potent interrogation drug into
his victim, then sat down beside him.

“Let’s try this
again,” Jer’ait said. 

The Human’s dark
brown eyes registered surprise but he made no move to speak, even though they
both knew he could.

Jer’ait ordered
a drink from the bartender and casually took a sip as he eyed the Human.  “My
name is Be’shaar,” Jer’ait said.  “As you probably already guessed, I am a
Huouyt.  I am also Va’ga-trained.  Do you know what this means?”

“It means you
know how to square dance,” the Human slurred.

“Oh yes,”
Jer’ait said, “I’m very good at square dancing.”

The Human peered
at him.  “How good?”

Jer’ait set his
drink down and, leaning forward so he could stare into the Human’s brown eyes,
said, “The very best.”

“You’re working
for my brother,” the Human whispered.

Jer’ait frowned
at the Human.  “You must have interesting family ties, my friend.  What makes
you think your brother could afford me?”

“So you’re not
working for my brother?”

“I didn’t say
that.”

“So who are you
working for?”

Jer’ait began to
get irritated.  “I didn’t say I wasn’t under your brother’s employ.”

“Yes you did. 
So who are you working for?”

Jer’ait watched the Human
for several long moments, then retrieved his drink from the bar and took a sip,
observing him over the glass.  “I can see why so many people find you
troublesome.”

The Human’s
mouth fell open.  “
Maggie
sent you?”

Calmly, Jer’ait said,
“Either you are doing me an injustice by suggesting a creature like you could
have enemies powerful enough to pay me for your death, or you have a very
unhealthy ego.”

The Human
watched Jer’ait watch him, becoming increasingly confused.  “Maggie didn’t send
you.”

“I never said
that,” Jer’ait said, rankling.

“Yes you did.”

You’re in
charge here, fool,
Jer’ait reminded himself. 
Act like it.
  Jer’ait
thumbed the whiskey glass, gathering up his composure.  When he was ready, he
met the Human’s eyes once more.  “Tell me more about yourself, Joe.”

“I’m eighty-one
Earth years, being assassinated, and rapidly losing my buzz.”  Joe glanced at
the bartender.

“He can’t help
you,” Jer’ait said.

Joe gave Jer’ait
an irritated look.  “I need another drink.”

That
surprised him.  Like being paralyzed meant absolutely nothing to the Human. 
Then
again,
Jer’ait thought,
if he survived Eeloir, he is probably accustomed
to such things.
 “You want to get back to poisoning yourself.” 

“Sounds like so
much more fun when you put it that way.”

Jer’ait set his
drink on the bar and leaned forward.  “I know you’ve had experiences with my
kind before, on Eeloir.  Therefore, you know exactly what kinds of horrible
things I can do to you, should you piss me off.  I’d think very carefully about
your answers from now on, Human.  Each one may be your last.”

“Good, this
interview is boring me anyway.”

Jer’ait had to
resist the impulse to inject something more potent—something more
painful
—into
the irritating Human’s system.  Instead, he allowed no reaction to the Human’s
sarcasm and said, “You ran from Congress.  What did you think we were going to
do?”

“Give up,” Joe
said.  “Sign a few warrants, seize my assets, forget you ever tried to recall
me.”

And normally,
Jer’ait realized, that would have been the case.  Trying a new tactic, he said,
“Why did you run?”

The Human
laughed.  “’Cause God hates a coward.”

Jer’ait blinked
at the distinctly Jreet sentiment.  It seemed strange, coming from a small,
bulbous-headed weakling.  “What?”

“Tell you what,”
the Human said, ignoring the question completely.  “Tell me the drug you just
used on me and I’ll tell you how I blew your cover.”

Jer’ait scanned Commander
Zero’s eyes and found, to his surprise, not an ounce of fear within them.  He’d
heard of such things before, especially in PlanOps, but to have it happen to
him
was unnerving.  He might as well have been interrogating another Va’gan. 

“You should not be
worried about the substance I used,” Jer’ait said.  “I studied Human anatomy
before taking this pattern.  It could be any of a dozen different chemicals,
all of which bring the same result.  What you
should
be worried about is
whether or not I’m going to let you live.”

“You are.”

“Oh?”

“You haven’t
killed me yet,” Joe said.  “And this is the wrong place to conduct an
interrogation.”

“So?”

Joe sighed. 
“So, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re probably some poor bastard who was
passing through on his way to his groundteam on Neskfaat when headquarters
flagged you down to go out on a wild goose-chase for a retired old vet nobody
cares about anymore because some Prime Overseer happens to carry a really long
grudge.”

“You are partly
right,” Jer’ait said.  “Earth was a temporary stop-over and eventually, I
will
be going to Neskfaat to join with the rest of my groundteam.”

“Figures. 
That’s Congress for you, eh?”  The Human sounded almost jovial.  Utterly
unafraid.  The lack of fear grated on Jer’ait’s nerves just as much as being
recognized had.  “Always putting its foot in the little guy’s shit.” 

Collecting
himself, Jer’ait said, “But right now, I am trying to figure out how to get my
ground leader back to headquarters without anyone realizing that their fabled
Commander Zero was actually drinking himself blind these last two weeks,
instead of exchanging loyalty vows with his Second.”

In his
inebriated state, it took the Human a moment to realize what Jer’ait had said. 
When he did, he squinted at Jer’ait and began blinking hard.

“So you’re not a
Huouyt?” he said finally.  “Ash, I thought you were a Huouyt.”

Jer’ait rankled
at the Human’s simple statement—as if it were like recognizing a Jahul in a
herd of melaa.  “I was not aware Va’ga trained Humans,” he gritted.

“But…”  For the
first time, the Human looked truly unnerved.  “Multi-species units always
fail.  They end up killing each other.  They were outlawed a million turns
ago.”

Jer’ait tipped
his glass at Joe and smiled.  “Desperate times.  The Corps Director was not
about to let Aez go unpunished.  You
do
know what happened to Aez, don’t
you?” 

“Not really. 
All they’ve been covering on the news is my brother’s fat ass.”

“The Dhasha Vahlin
blew it up.”

The Human laughed. 
“Good for him.  Jreet are ashers.”

“You don’t
believe me.”

“Look…”

“Be’shaar.”

“Be’shaar.  No
offense, but your kind are a bunch of lying spawn of Takki.  You’ll tell me
anything to get me back to Headquarters so they can try me and you can get back
on with your life.”

“No offense
taken, Commander,” Jer’ait replied.  “Normally, you are correct.”

“Just cut the furgsoot,”
Joe snapped.  “There’s no way in the ninety Jreet hells a Va’gan assassin would
get drafted for my groundteam.  Maggie doesn’t have the pull in PlanOps, as
much as she’d like to think she does.”  The Human looked like he was getting
irritated.  Jer’ait wished it were fear, instead, but irritation was a start.

“I wasn’t
drafted, Human.  I volunteered for your team.”

Joe snorted. 
“Right.  Just kill me, okay?  I know that’s what you came here to do.  It’s all
over your face.”

Jer’ait had to
fight down a brief moment of panic, telling himself that there was no way the Human
could read his intentions, none.  “I’ll be truthful with you, Human,” Jer’ait
said.  “I’m not here to kill you.  I am here to help you destroy the Dhasha Vahlin.”

The Human stared
at him.

Jer’ait decided
to use the Human’s confusion to catch him off-guard.  “This was my first Human
pattern,” he lied.  “It was a difficult pattern to get used to—it took me an
entire week to learn all of the intricacies of Human interaction.  I am pretty
confident, however, that it was not my smile that tipped you off.  Who is
working for you at headquarters, Commander?”

“Huh?”

“Who told you I was
coming?  Last night.  With the stool.”

“Are you
kidding?” Joe snorted.  “I haven’t spoken to anyone but Jim Beam since some
prick broke my nose in Nevada.”

“Who is—”

“Tell me what
drug you used on me.”

Jer’ait felt
himself growing irritated.  “Trade secret.”

“Oh, huh.  Guess
you’ll just be left wondering why I was able to pin you, then.”

Jer’ait held the
Human’s flat stare for almost five tics.  Then, grudgingly, he said, “It was
jasanbic-4
.”

“Really?  I
thought you guys used
vembiridol.
”

“
Vembiridol
is a novice’s drug.  After Eeloir, PlanOps have built up their grounders’
resistances to it.  A good dose barely lasts five tics anymore.”  Jer’ait
looked the Human up and down, trying to figure out what it was about this
creature that had allowed him to be one of only two Human survivors in that
miserable war.  Reluctantly, he said, “Considering your history, I didn’t want
to take the chance.”  When the Human offered nothing, Jer’ait leaned closer to
his target.  “Now tell me about this Jim Beam you’ve been speaking to.”

“Ask the
bartender.  He’ll know.”

Frowning,
expecting some sort of trick, Jer’ait said nothing.  When it was obvious Joe
would say nothing more, however, he motioned the bartender over.  “Excuse me. 
What can you tell me about Jim Beam?”

The bartender
broke into a toothy grin and took another bottle of poison down from the rack.

“No,” Jer’ait
said.  “I don’t want any more.”

“Jim Beam,” the
bartender said, thumbing the bottle.  “Not much there is to know you can’t
figure out for yourself.”

“Where can I
find him?”

The bartender’s
face changed into a glare.  “Funny.  Every guy who comes in here thinks he’s a
real comedian.  As if I ain’t heard it all before.  Sheesh.”  The bartender put
the bottle back and left to help another patron, giving Jer’ait an irritated
look as he passed.

Jer’ait realized
Joe was watching him very closely.  “You can’t read English.”

Jer’ait
stiffened.  There were things he did not like about this Human.  Things that
reminded him of
him
.

“What kind of
signal did I just give your friend behind the bar?”  Jer’ait began to stand,
glancing around them for an attack.

“Relax.  The
bottle reads Jim Beam.  It’s a type of whiskey.  I’ve been drinking a lot of
whiskey.”

Jer’ait stared
at him.  “You’re trying to tell me you have no spy with the Peacemakers?”

“That’s right.”

Meeting the Human’s
flat stare, Jer’ait did not know which was more disturbing—the fact that the Human
was either lying and he couldn’t see it, or that he was telling the truth.

Jer’ait reached
out to give the Human another injection.

“How about you
kill me and say I resisted?” the Human interrupted.  “That’d be kinder than
turning me in to PlanOps, though you pricks don’t have a conscience, so I guess
you wouldn’t care either way.”

Jer’ait
frowned.  “I’m not turning you in.”

“Right.  You
think I believed that multi-species groundteam soot?”

“You will.” 
Jer’ait put the Human to sleep and carried him from the bar.  Outside, once he
had deposited Joe in his
haauk,
he opened his reader and called Yua’nev.

“I really think
we should kill him now.”