She was about to protest that the talent was so vague as to be almost useless, except to sweep a large number of people to make sure they were clean. But then she stopped herself. The council didn’t need to know about her talent’s limitations—not initially, anyway. The very fact that her ability existed would at least guarantee her a hearing.
<So I become their test subject while people like Nemeth get all the credit,> she said cynically. <Sounds like a lot of fun, Box.>
<But at least you’ll have some direction again,> the Box responded.
She thought about that for a few seconds.
<That’s true,> she admitted. <And somewhere to channel that momentum.> She forced herself to let her eyelids close and her muscles relax. The last thing she wanted right now was to move anywhere.
<How many more stops were there on Nemeth’s list?> she asked.
<Two—outposts run by the Saa-hurod and Yemena Castes.>
Neither of the names rang a bell. <Does either look likely to tell us anything new?>
<Impossible to say, from here.>
<Does Nemeth highlight either as being especially important?>
<No.>
<Then we can safely ignore them, I think. And without Maii to help me sweep for clone warriors, I wouldn’t feel comfortable in approaching them.>
<Her prognosis is good, Morgan. She will be conscious within twenty hours.>
<That’s not the point,> Roche said, recalling the accusation leveled at her by Vri about using the Surin girl. <I don’t want to push her unnecessarily. She needs rest.>
Roche was silent for a while, on the verge of making the decision but still balking. It would only take a call to Kajic to put them on their way. She wanted to make absolutely certain—as certain as she could be, anyway—that she was doing the right thing.
<Have you heard from the Crescend?> she asked.
<If you are asking me whether he would approve of your return to the Phlegethon, I can tell you that he would.>
She hadn’t dared ask the question so blatantly, so to hear the reply threw her off balance for a moment. She didn’t want to push her luck by asking why he approved.
<He’s told you that?>
<Yes.>
<When?>
<While we were just talking.>
The ramifications of that information were profound. <So you and he are communicating by ftl, like the council does?> she said. <Why didn’t you tell me?>
<It didn’t seem necessary. Should I have?>
<Well, no. It doesn’t make that much difference, I guess. I just assumed...> She wondered how much else she had assumed about the Box’s relationship with the Crescend that would one day turn out to be wrong. That was the problem in dealing with the AI: without asking exactly the right question, she couldn’t be entirely sure she was learning what she needed to know.
And yet it had offered the Crescend’s advice on the matter of the Phlegethon. That was out of character. Either it had a hidden agenda—which was all too possible—or the High Human had finally decided to become involved.
She wasn’t sure if the latter would be a good thing or not.
Yawning, she rolled back onto her stomach. <Box, open a line to Vri’s ship. Audio only.>
The AI did as it was told, making sure to maintain the illusion that Roche herself had placed the call. When Vri responded, she said:
“Vri, it’s Roche.” The Surin didn’t respond, so she kept talking. “I need to ask you something. About Maii.”
“Which is?”
“Do you know the name of Maii’s mother? Or even her family name?”
There was a pause. “No. Why?”
“Would the Agora know?” she said, ignoring his question.
“I would assume so.”
“And would you think it unreasonable of me to ask for that information before I even consider handing Maii over?”
He paused again, then answered, “No, not at all.”
“Good, because that’s as far as I’m prepared to compromise at the moment. Unless you can convince me that the Agora knows what it’s doing—and is doing it for the right reasons—then you will never complete your mission. If, however, you can convince me, then your chances of convincing Maii will improve. Ultimately, she is the one you have to deal with. Unless she agrees, you’ll go home empty-handed.”
There was a third pause as he seemed to consider this. “I understand,” he said finally.
“Do you, Vri?”
“I am not stupid, Roche. There is a bond between you and the child; that is indisputable. I may question the nature of the bond on your side in the same way that you question the sincerity of my superiors—but, as you have pointed out, neither of us can do anything without Maii’s consent. We are not monsters, you and I.”
Remembering the concern with which he had brought the injured girl back to the scutter, Roche could only agree.
“Then let’s leave it at that,” she said. “We’ll go back to the Phlegethon. She’ll be safer there. You can contact the Agora, or their representatives in the system, and we’ll talk about it. Openly, and with Maii. She’ll be conscious by the time we get back, and she’ll be able to tell if anyone’s lying. When we’ve all talked it through, she can decide what she wants to do, and we’ll abide by her decision. Can we agree on that?”
“We can.” Through his gruff reticence, she sensed a certain satisfaction. “I will contact my superiors as soon as we arrive and advise them of our decision.”
“Good.” She went to close the line, but stopped at the last second. “And Vri? Thanks for everything you did for her today. You saved her life over there.”
“Your thanks are not necessary. I was doing my duty.”
“I know that,” she said. “But to you, duty is everything, isn’t it?”
He didn’t reply. A second later, the line closed.
Roche smiled to herself. <Box? Get me Uri. I want us under way as soon as possible. And draft a report for Rey Nemeth describing what happened with the Fathehi.>
<What else would you like me to tell him?>
<Just that. Let him assume we’re going on to the Yemena Caste. I think I’d like to surprise him by turning up unannounced.>
<Yes, Morgan.>
<And...>
<Yes, Morgan?>
<The next time the Crescend thinks I should do something, ask him to tell me himself. I think it’s about time we dispensed with the go-between.>
<1 hope you mean that metaphorically, Morgan.>
She smiled again as she closed her eyes. <Of course, Box,> she said. <Of course.>
13
SHCV Phlegethon
955.2.13
1975
The conference room was conical in shape, its walls tapering smoothly up from the circular floor to a point far above, from which shone a single, bright light. A round table filled most of the floor space, cut, like the walls, from heavy gray stone. Apart from the table, the light, eight chairs, and a single door, the room was featureless. Roche had been assured that it was completely secure: no information could get in or out by any means, including epsense, without the knowledge of the room’s inhabitants.
“We hardly expected you back so soon,” said Esko Murnane. Roche had been surprised to see him at the meeting of the Ulterior, but not as surprised, it seemed, as Rey Nemeth, whose customary charm—superficial though it might have been—was still clouded by a scowl. There were four others at the table Roche hadn’t been introduced to.
“I thought it best to return, for a number of reasons,” she said, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Even though she was dressed in full combat armor and armed to the point where even the hospitable Skehan Heterodox had thought twice about letting her aboard their ship, she still felt vulnerable. “There’s something you need to know.”
“Is it related to your mission?”
“Perhaps indirectly,” she said. “I might not have found out about it if I hadn’t gone.”
“I have her reports
,” said Nemeth, attempting to reclaim some power in the assembly.
“I’ll read them later,” said Murnane dismissively.
“You won’t find anything in the reports about this,” Roche said. “It’s not information I’d like to go public with just yet.”
“What is it, then?”
She glanced at Haid, who had accompanied her this trip. Maii was still in the Ana Vereine’s medical center, conscious but weak. Haid caught her look and shrugged.
“You have a problem,” she said slowly. “There are five of the enemy on board the Phlegethon.”
Startled mutterings broke out among those gathered, but it was Nemeth’s voice which rose above them all: “Are you sure?”
“I have no doubts whatsoever,” she said. “In fact, there may be even more. You have too large a crew to scan all of them effectively and quickly. But I can tell you that three are amidships, one is down in the crypt and the other is up near the minaret.”
“Where exactly?” pressed Nemeth.
“I can’t tell,” she said with a slight shrug. “I just know they’re there.”
The mutterings continued among the other members of the Ulterior. Except for Murnane, who hardly reacted at all.
“How could you possibly know this?” he asked calmly.
“It’s hard to explain,” said Roche.
“Nevertheless,” said Murnane smoothly, “you’re going to have to try. We have no intention of taking you at your word.”
“I understand that.”
“Is there any way to get a precise fix on them?” said Nemeth.
“Only by looking for them in person,” she said. “By coming face to face with them.”
“At grave personal risk, no doubt,” said Murnane, leaning back in his seat.
She met and held Murnane’s icy blue eyes. “Yes,” she said.
“Do you expect the council to sanction such an undertaking?” There was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
“She hasn’t come to the council,” said Nemeth.
“The person I should speak to is the Heresiarch,” Roche said. “It’s his ship, after all.”
Murnane dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “How long have you known?”
“Little more than an hour. We swept the ship on the way in to dock.”
“And how do you know that one of us isn’t a clone warrior?” asked a woman to Roche’s left.
“I checked before you sealed the room.” Although Maii was on the Ana Vereine and physically resting, her mind was still strong. The n-space link was harder to maintain over a distance, but still viable.
“That’s not to say, of course, that one of us couldn’t be in league with them,” said Murnane, glancing around the table. “The Ulterior is an organization designed for covert dealings, after all.” Then, returning to Roche, he said: “Perhaps it’s time you told us exactly how you came by this knowledge.”
She agreed and proceeded to describe how her chance link with Maii had brought to their attention Roche’s ability to detect the minds of the enemy in the way they distorted the fabric of n-space. She still couldn’t explain what those distortions meant or why it seemed she alone possessed this ability, and was as open about this as she was about her inability to pin down a clone warrior’s precise location.
“Despite this limitation,” interrupted someone from the end of the table, “you are certain you can identify them?”
Roche nodded. “It enabled me to identify Inderdeep Jans as one of the two clone warriors on Perdue Habitat,” she said. “And of the seven locations we visited, I was able to scan them prior to boarding and determine which of the locations had been compromised by the enemy and which of them had not been.”
“How many hadn’t been?”
“Just one.”
This provoked another round of muttering, until Murnane broke in.
“Would it be possible to replicate this procedure with another reave?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m willing to try.”
“Good.” He nodded. “We’ve been looking for a way to use epsense to reveal the enemy. This might just be it.”
<You are taking a risk doing this,> said the Box into her mind.
<Less of a risk than a full probe.> Then, heading off an argument, she said: <It’s a risk we have to take, Box.>
The conference room was unsealed for a moment, to summon one of the high-grade reaves warding the room—one of the many Maii had observed in the fane during their first visit. She was a short Pristine woman dressed in white robes and a ceremonial headdress wrapped about her eyes, ears and mouth.
<You are allied to the Surin Abomination,> she said to Roche. It wasn’t a question.
Roche colored slightly. Answering in kind, via epsense, she said: <The Olmahoi have permitted her existence.>
<They suffer her existence,> the woman said, taking a seat vacated by one of the Ulterior. <I am Stryki of Taborca. You are shielded. I cannot help if you will not open yourself to me.>
Roche felt the faintest suggestion of Maii at the back of her mind; before Roche had left the Ana Vereine, the reave had installed a shield guarding the knowledge that the Box had survived Palasian System. She forced herself to think of something else.
The woman entered her mind like a sheet of silk sliding into water. There was no sensation of invasion or penetration; she was suddenly there, among Roche’s thoughts, as though she always had been.
<How does the Abomination access n-space ?> the woman asked. <Like this?>
Roche felt her mind swept up by the woman’s and tugged into another place—a place where there were no walls, no boundaries, just the faintest suggestion of lines all around them, some intersecting, others stretching out to infinity. Where they met, they glowed white.
<No,> Roche said. <It wasn’t like that.>
<This, then?>
Roche was suddenly pulled in a thousand directions at once—as though her skin had been plucked by fishhooks and stretched like the fabric of a balloon to the breaking point—
The reave made no apology for the obvious discomfort she had caused, but the sensation vanished and Roche found herself floating over the familiar gray field of n-space.
<That’s it,> she said, unable to keep the relief from her voice.
<Ah,> said the reave. <A simple two-dimensional Nyberg representation. I should have anticipated something unsophisticated like this. It’s often the way with the self-taught.>
Ignoring Stryki’s disdain, Roche forced herself to look around with the woman.
<What do you see?>
She described the congregation of shielded bumps that she guessed was the meeting. A steep ridge surrounded the gathering—the shield, she presumed, that kept outside observers at bay.
<Can you see yourself?>
<Not clearly, no.>
<And me? Can you see me?>
<The same. You’re indistinct, kind of fuzzy around the edges.>
<That’s because our minds are linked,> explained the reave. <Were we to disconnect and you to look at the view on your own, or with the help of another mind, I would spring back into focus.>
<Can you look at yourself?>
<Of course,> Stryki said. <All reaves are taught to do this before they learn to examine another’s mind. But we do not see ourselves as you would see us.> The woman paused. <Your mind has an unusual flavor, Roche. One I have not tasted before.>
Roche recalled what Maii had said about the irikeii calling her an “enigma.” The possibility that it might be Maii’s block confusing the issue didn’t occur to her until the reave went on: <1 can sense the Abomination’s hand in your mind. You are aware of this?>
<Yes.> Wary that the reave might penetrate the block, she automatically withdrew.
<I would not violate your privacy,> the reave assured her. <I am not here to probe you, and I would not do so without your permission. That would not be ethical.>
Although leery of the woman’s intent—and tired of her incessant insinuations regarding Maii—Roche did allow her back into her mind. She had little choice but to trust the reave if she was to get anywhere.
<Okay,> said Roche. The woman’s gaze began to wander, through a short-lived gap in the barrier around the meeting and out into the Phlegethon.
<Do you know where we are?>
<No.> Within seconds, Roche had become completely lost. <Do you?>
<More or less. Fixing spatial coordinates to n-space equivalents is one of the hardest things a reave must learn to do,> the woman explained. <It is only complicated when the real-space environment is unfamiliar or inconstant. Fortunately, I am both trained and familiar with this environment.>
<So pinpointing the clones shouldn’t be too difficult, then?>
<Theoretically.>
Roche allowed Stryki to whisk her through the concatenated minds of the crew of the Phlegethon for a minute or two before asking: <Have you studied clone warriors before?>
The reave hesitated a second. <No, but I do have a great deal of experience with Exotic and near-Transcendent Humanity.>
Roche would have been interested to hear more about the latter. She was, however, forced to concentrate on the task before her. The sea of thoughts was rushing by much faster than it had with Maii. It was all she could do to keep up.
Then she saw it: a dip representing a clone warrior.
<Stop! Go back!>
The reave retraced the way they had come, more slowly. Now Roche could tell that the concentration of people was less dense than it had been before.
<Where are we?> she asked.
<Find the one you are looking for, and I will tell you.> Roche swept invisibly among the crew of the Phlegethon until the dip reappeared.
<There. No, there! Can you see it?>
<I see nothing out of the ordinary.>
<Look at that group of five minds,> Roche said. <The bottom right-hand individual—that’s the one!>
<Are you sure?>
<I’m positive,> said Roche.
The reave was silent for a moment. <I can’t read the person you have identified. That in itself is not unusual, but it does lend some credence to your story. Other reaves have reported difficulty reading the enemy’s minds. They seem to be totally impenetrable, if they so desire. They may, at times, allow a reave to access sensory data, but little else....>