Zero Recall (70 page)

Please don’t do
anything stupid.

Your friend,

Jemria

Syuri played the message
twice more, then threw the reader against the wall.

He cried, at first,
because he knew Forgotten had been planning this from the moment he met him. 
He’d been looking for an heir, someone to pass his fortunes to when he handed
himself over to Aliphei to be destroyed.

That’s not going to
happen,
Syuri thought suddenly, tearing himself out of his thoughts.

He would not let it
happen.  Forgotten would not end up like the other Geuji.  Syuri could not
allow it.

He knew what he had to
do.

Come Peacemakers, Jreet
hells, or Dhasha jaws, Syuri was going to save his friend.

CHAPTER 35:  Ka-par

 “You two really should
eat something,” the Huouyt said as he clung to the side of the massive private
pool, surfing channels on the enormous vidscreen of the penthouse of the Ueshi
pleasure-palace that they had rented for the rotation.  He plucked a Huouyt
delicacy from a plate and held it up appreciatively.  “I will not be
responsible for the bill if one of you starves to death.”

“Besides,” Joe said, from
under the tiny, expert fingers of an Ueshi masseuse, “you’re missing out on the
fun.”  At that, the Ueshi began a gentle thumping down the backs of his legs,
loosening the muscles there, and Joe groaned.

“Quiet,” Daviin muttered
from his coils.  “Ka-par.”

Joe rolled his eyes. 
“And what are you charhead furgs gonna do if one of you wins, huh?”

“Shut up,” the Baga
replied.  “The Jreet’s about to cave.”  Neither one had so much as twitched for
almost a week.

“From what I’ve seen,”
Jer’ait said, “you’re both about to pass out.”

“First one to pass out
loses,” Baga said stubbornly.  “Then I
own
his ass.”

“I think I’ll make you
carry my grooming kit,” the Jreet retorted, “as would properly befit a slave.”

Over by the vidscreen,
the Human gave a loud groan and rolled his eyes.  “Guys, we’ve got three
billion
credits apiece and you haven’t moved from that spot in the last two weeks.”

“Ka-par,” Flea said.

“Yes,” Daviin said.  “Let
the little insect lose fairly.  Stop distracting him.”

“I’m
not
having
another melaa shipped in here, Daviin,” the Human growled.  “And Flea, get your
ass off the chair and get something to eat.  This is ridiculous.”

The Jreet ignored Joe
completely, his predatory gaze completely focused on the tiny Baga, who
returned it intently, seated on the back of a chair facing him.  Joe muttered
something under his breath and went back to surfing channels, a
fizzy—non-alcoholic—Earth-drink in his hand.

Joe was groaning with
pleasure as the little Ueshi began working her way up his back when Jer’ait heaved
himself from the water and shouted, “By the bloody fucking eyes of the merciful
dead, the self-molesting furgs are falling into his fucking trap!”

Joe grunted and looked
up.

Jer’ait was watching a
live news feed from Koliinaat.  It was a crisp, no-frills view of the inside of
the Regency, with almost all the Representatives in attendance.  At the center
of the screen, the three Tribunal members—the First Citizen Aliphei, Prazeil
representing the Jreet, and Mekkval representing the Dhasha—sat presiding over
the trial of what looked like a quivering, semi-translucent green slime spread
over a boxlike apparatus.

“The Ayhi damn the
ignorant vaghi to the deepest Jreet hells!” Jer’ait shouted.  “He set the noose
and they’re crawling into it!”  He hurled the platter of delicacies across the
room and bent to yank a towel from a pool chair.

Having never seen the
Va’gan display more than quiet irritation at anything, every head in the room
turned to stare as Jer’ait upended a table of pool supplies across the damp
stone.  Towels and bath soaps rolled into the pool.  Jer’ait kicked them for
greater effect, skittering a flotation pad out across the water.

“Uh…Jer’ait?” Joe asked
curiously.

“
Look
,” Jer’ait
snarled, gesturing at the screen.  “They’re giving him what he
wants
. 
He could take down
everything
.  The Regency, the Tribunal,
everything
.”

The Baga buzzed over to
land on a chair in front of the vidscreen, cocking his buglike head at the
screen.  “Is that the Geuji?” he asked, curious.

“No,” Jer’ait snapped.

The Baga hesitated.  “It
says
it’s the Geuji.  Live feed from Koliinaat.”

“It’s not,” Jer’ait
snapped.  “The Geuji is black and does not have eyes.”

“So…” Daviin said, as the
Jreet wove over to take a look, “if that’s not the Geuji, who is it?”

“It’s a forgery,” Flea
said, scrabbling closer.  “Like Joe’s brother.  If you look close, that jiggly
pattern repeats itself.  Like it’s on a timer.” 

“A farce,” Jer’ait
agreed.  “A complete fucking fraud.  Merciful
dead! 
Were I
there
,
that trial would not be happening.  But of course he knew that.  The damnable
furg Aliphei lured me off to steal money and play games so he could have access
to the Geuji unimpeded.  I
thought
that Ghost file had been too close to
the surface.”  He hurled a vase of rare flowers into the pool, where it
shattered against the far edge.  “
Damn
.  Fucking
damn
.”

“So,” Joe said slowly,
“what’s happening?”

“They’re faking the
trial,” Flea said, “…on the floor of the Regency.”  He seemed stunned.  “Isn’t
that, like, illegal?”

“Turn it up,” Daviin
commanded.  “The Aezi is talking.”

“Tell us again, for
the record, how you came to be, Geuji.”

“My people live in a
faraway galaxy, and we often come to scout out your progress and determine the
best ways to stop your impending threat to the stability of our great nation. 
Until now, we were never caught.”

“And you conspired with
the Huouyt to destroy Aez and initiate the war on Neskfaat to weaken us?”
Prazeil
demanded.

“Admittedly, it
failed.  But yes, that was our plan.”

“Why did you attack
Aez?”
the Jreet Representative urged. 
“Why not Vora or Welu?”

“The Aezi were our
greatest threat,”
the greenish slime-creature told them. 
“They are the
greatest warriors of Congress.  We had no choice but to neutralize them.”

“He
dares
?!”
Daviin screamed, rearing up in fury.

“It’s a fake,” Joe said,
watching the screen with curiosity.  “That’s not Forgotten.”

Daviin frowned as the
Jreet Representative continued to interrogate their subject.  “And Prazeil
knows
it’s a fake?”

“How can he not?” Jer’ait
demanded.  “They had the real Geuji testify against Rri’jan in a closed
session.  Forgotten looks nothing like that…thing.”

“A Jreet
knowingly
participates in such a dishonor?” Daviin snarled. 

“There’s nothing you can
do about it,” Joe said tiredly.  “It’s just more politics.”

“I could
challenge
,”
Daviin snapped.  “Look at them!  They spew lies about Aez.  They say the Aezi
warriors could best a Voran, and that’s why the Aezi had to die.”

“A
fake
, furg,”
Jer’ait repeated.

“But all of
Congress
sees it!” Daviin retorted.  “They’ll take it as sooth, because it came from the
mind of a Geuji!”

…which was true.  “What
do you mean, challenge?” Joe said. 

“For his seat,” Daviin
snapped.  He began pacing in front of the screen, tek protruding slightly from
its sheath, looking utterly enraged. 

“A
Tribunal
member?” Joe asked carefully, “Won’t that, oh, I don’t know, get you
eradicated?”

“No,” Daviin snarled. 
“It is my right.”  He continued to pace, failing to elaborate.

Joe frowned.  “I thought
that Representatives had to be chosen by the people.”

“It is different for the
Jreet,” Daviin snapped out.  “One of our Species Concessions.  We challenge. 
Only the best rule.”  The Jreet looked so pissed that he was having trouble
forming words.

“Uh…” Joe said, “you
realize you’re only half as big as that guy, right?”

“I’ve killed Aezi bigger
than him,” Daviin snapped.

Joe’s eyebrows went up. 
“Really.”

“Never mind,” Daviin
snarled.  “It takes a clan ages to put together enough funds to back their
greatest warrior and send him to Congress.” 

Joe glanced from the
screen, to Daviin, then to Jer’ait, who was watching the Jreet with a narrow
look.  It was the Baga, however, who said, “Daviin, how much would it cost you
to challenge the Welu?”

“Six billion,” Daviin
snapped. 

“You can have mine,” the
Baga said.

“Done!” the Jreet
roared.  He reached forth and lowered a huge ruby hand over Flea’s back.  “Little
Flea, you just made the best decision of your life.”  He lifted his hand and
made a fist.  “The Aezi has breathed his last lie.  I swear it!”  He crossed
the room to get a better look at the vidscreen, doubtlessly to get a better
look at his enemy.

Jer’ait gave Flea an
irritated look.  “Baga, do you have any idea how much money you just threw
away?”

“No,” Flea said.  “And I
probably don’t want to.”  He lifted his caps and flitted his wings, a Baga
impression of a shrug.  “Besides, if Daviin wins, he can pay me back.”

“Uh,” Joe said, “you
realize that’s probably exactly what Forgotten
wants
you to do, right?”

“Oh sure,” Flea said. 
“That’s why I challenged the Jreet to ka’par.  Keep him from spending all his
cash.”

Jer’ait cocked his head
at Flea.  “Excuse me?”

“Oh come on!” Flea
cried.  “You guys didn’t see this coming?  Seriously?”  Then, looking from Joe
to Jer’ait to Daviin, he seemed to deflate.  “You didn’t see it coming.” 
Puffing up with irritation, he said, “Come
on
, guys.  Daviin’s
obviously
being groomed for the Tribunal.  Think about it.  He Sentineled a pleb—no
offense—and had to live as a commoner for a couple rotations.  He starved a bit
and had to caper to the whims of a Human—the lowest of the low.” 

“Hey, now,” Joe muttered.

Flea ignored him and went
on, heedless.  “He was pulled out of an Aezi
gladiatorial ring
.  On the
day—get this—Aez gets blown apart?  He’s killed more Aezi than any Jreet
alive.  And his little guardian angel was keeping him alive on Jeelsiht.  For
what…to go steal a few billion from Joe’s brother?  Of
course
the Geuji
wants him to kill Prazeil.”

“So you
knew
Forgotten was setting us up…
again
…and you just went along with it?” Joe
asked, carefully resisting the urge to stomp the little bastard.

“Well, yeah,” Flea said,
sounding confused.  “What better way to spend my money than getting myself a
friend on the Tribunal?”

Joe and Jer’ait blinked
at each other, then glanced over at the seething Jreet, who had crossed the
room and was leaning close to the vidscreen to compensate for his poor
eyesight, oblivious to their chat.

“You know, Flea,” Joe
said slowly, “you might be some sort of evil genius.”

“Of course I am,” Flea
said, crawling up his arm to take residence on his shoulder.  “I’m Bagan.  Can
I have something to eat now?  Distracting the Voran sucked.”

On the screen, the First
Citizen was speaking again.
“Mekkval, you’ve been silent throughout,”
Aliphei noted.
  “Do you have any questions for the condemned?”

The enormous Dhasha Representative
was scowling at the quivering green ‘Geuji’. 
“You already know my opinion. 
You already have decided your votes.  I refuse to take part in this farce.”
 
At that, the Dhasha summoned the Watcher and flickered out, leaving only
Prazeil and Aliphei presiding.

“Did you see that?!”
Daviin snarled.  He grabbed the massive lounge chair beside him and hurled it
against the wall, shattering it into thousands of splinters no bigger than
Joe’s pinkie and putting a hole in the wall that exposed the contents of the
room next door, making the naked Jahul on the other side lunge out of their
orgy with a tide of terrified screams.  Heedless, Daviin roared at the
vidscreen, “The
Dhasha
has more honor than that vaghi scum!”

“On second thought,” Flea
said, settling into a crouch on Joe’s shoulder as he watched the Jreet’s
tantrum with obvious delight, “this is more interesting.”

#

Syuri was moving through
the crowded hub of Koliinaat’s shipping quarter, trying to determine the best
way to steal his friend’s ship, when an angry Voran Jreet voice bellowed across
the distance, “You!  Food-trader!  I have questions about Aez.”  The hot wash
of Jreet-tinged anger that assaulted his sivvet was immediately followed by the
pang of fear from a dozen nearby bystanders.

Syuri felt his chambers
flex, expelling all of his wastes over his skin in a rush of total panic.  At
the same time, he spasmodically yanked his front legs into a protected tuck and
ran
.

Jreet, thankfully, were
not a prey species.  Thus, the Jreet could only bellow and shove bystanders
aside angrily as Syuri escaped at speeds that befitted his humble ancestry.

Only once he had ducked
through six separate hubs, navigated the bustling, narrow-halled services
courts, and hurtled down a dozen passageways and busy halls did Syuri find the
presence of mind to stop running and steady himself.

The Voran Jreet.  The
heir he had rescued on Aez. 
Here.
  Blessed Hagra, he had the ill-fated
fortune of the Shadyi.