A Dark and Hungry God Arises (14 page)

The emissary considered Nick for a long moment before he said passionlessly, 'Captain Succorso, this is unsatisfactory. '

Do you think I don't know that, you disgusting lump of shit? Do you think I don't know you're going to assume I'm betraying you, too? The truth is worse.

Turning on his heel, daring the Amnioni to shoot him in the back, Nick strode away in the direction of Captain's fancy.

Taverner, you dishonest shit-licker, where are you?

By the time he reached his ship, his anger had failed. Like hope, it eroded and was washed out of him. Instead he felt an acute longing to be with someone who adored him.

Once the doors were safely locked behind him, he went, not to the bridge, but to his private quarters.

Ignoring Mikka's hostility - and his own doom - in the same way that he'd ignored the Amnioni with the gun, he used the cabin intercom to ask Liete Corregio to join him.

Milos had to wait.

It was time for him to crush out the spark of dangerous enthusiasm in Angus' eyes, time for him to erase the look of malign hope on Angus' face.

The longer he allowed Angus to experience anything other than hopeless domination, the more precarious Milos felt.

Nevertheless he was forced to wait while Angus obtained permission to approach Billingate. He had to trust Angus' core programming that long. By some standards, the next few hours were the most vulnerable part of Angus' mission. Thanatos Minor had the firepower to laugh at any gap scout, no matter how many secret weapons she carried. Human ships all around the installation would protect it. And - Milos had already gleaned this information from scan, as well as from Billingate's routine navigational transmissions - there were two Amnion warships in the vicinity of the rock.

If Operations refused to let Trumpet dock, Angus was in trouble.

Milos could solve that problem himself, if Angus failed. But he didn't want to. It would force his hand; coerce him to commit himself when he wanted to keep all his options open.

While Angus dealt with Operations, Milos lit a nic and fretted.

Angus had sent out the data that Operations needed: ship id and registration, the names of her captain and crew. He'd requested a visitor's berth. Now he ran arcane sequences on his board, comparing them to the databases hidden inside him, and murmuring softly under his breath as if he were humming.

But Operations hadn't answered.

What was the delay?

Time-lag was negligible. And Angus had been here any number of times before: presumably he knew how to approach the shipyard. So where was the reply? What was Operations doing?

No, Milos couldn't wait. He should, but he couldn't.

In the privacy of his bowels, he feared Angus too intensely, despite Hashi Lebwohl's reassurances.

Smoke dissipated into the air scrubbers as he exhaled.

First he checked to be sure that Trumpet wasn't sending anything, that all her broadcast channels were silent.

Then he unbelted himself from his g-seat and floated free.

The ship was too small to use internal spin for g. He'd received some zero-g training at UMCPHQ, however.

He steadied himself on the back of his seat, then thrust gently in the direction of the command station.

'Sit down, ' Angus muttered over his shoulder. 'I'm concentrating. '

Milos coasted the two meters to Angus' side. Carefully he pulled himself close to Angus until their heads almost touched.

'Joshua. ' His voice was soft, but distinct. 'I'm going to give you a standing order. Jerico priority. ' That was the highest authority Milos could assign to his instructions.

According to Lebwohl, only the most fundamental commandments in Angus' datacore would override a Jerico priority order. When I tell you to open your mouth, you will always obey. You won't wait to hear the word "Joshua". '

To be on the safe side, he added, 'After that you'll chew and swallow normally. And you'll follow this order without letting it interfere with anything else you have to do. '

The idea that these words were being recorded in Angus' datacore - that Dios or Lebwohl might find out about them - didn't bother Milos. He was more interested in the extent to which Angus' programming allowed him to protect himself from damage. Jerico priority was supposed to override any instinct less compelling than self-preservation.

Angus tapped a couple of keys on his board and checked one of his readouts as if he weren't listening.

An uncharacteristic grin stretched Milos' face as he breathed, 'Open your mouth. '

Angus opened his mouth.

Carefully Milos dropped his burning nic onto Angus'

tongue.

A flash of recognition lit Angus' eyes - a black glare of hate. His toadlike face twisted in a spasm of pain.

Autonomic revulsion made his hands twitch.

Nevertheless he chewed the nic briefly; swallowed it.

After flexing for a moment, his hands went back to his board.

'Enjoy it, ' he whispered thickly, as if the pain stiffened his tongue. 'It won't last. '

'Yes, it will. You know it will. ' For some reason, Milos still felt endangered. His power over Angus should have calmed him, but it didn't. Deep in his guts, where common sense and rationality never reached, he feared that Angus' essential malignance was indomitable.

Unfortunately he couldn't undertake a more elaborate reassurance right now. 'Bluffing me is a waste of time, '

he asserted in an effort to disguise his apprehension. 'I've never been as stupid as you think I am. '

'Is that right?' Angus slurred. Then I guess you knew all along that I could have proved you were in collusion with Succorso whenever I wanted. I guess you knew I was doing you a favor by keeping my mouth shut. That's why you were so rucking grateful. All that stun and beating and abuse was just your sweet way of saying thanks. '

'Oh, stop it. ' In disgust, Milos drifted back to the second's station. 'I tell you, you can't bluff me. DA trained me for this. I know what you can do and what you can't. Probably better than you do. ' He wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and Angus: if he'd been willing to miss Operations' answer, he would have left the bridge. Pulling his weight down by the straps, he secured himself in his g-seat. 'If you could have proved anything like that — if you even suspected it - you would have sung your head off about it. '

As he tapped one of his readouts, Angus Thermopyle laughed - a sound like the pulping of flesh and the breaking of bones. 'Operations' approach protocols give us id and status on every ship here - illegals don't like to come in when they can't tell who's in the vicinity. It looks like Captain's Fancy has already docked. Maybe we'll get to discuss what I knew and didn't know with Captain Succorso him-fucking-self. '

'You're a liar, ' Milos retorted because he was viscerally sure that Angus was telling the truth. 'If you could have rescued yourself that easily, why didn't you? What are you using for a reason today?'

Angus started to laugh again, then stopped abruptly to read a screen. 'Here it comes. '

'Trumpet, this is Billingate Operations. ' In spite of distance and distortion, the voice on the bridge speakers sounded laconic, humorously cynical. 'Are you sure you don't want to reconsider? You might be safer if you got the hell out of here. '

With a snap, Angus toggled his pickup. 'Operations, I hear you. ' He spoke slowly to overcome the pain in his tongue. 'If you said something that made sense, I might even understand. What's the problem? Do you want me to start over? I'm Captain Angus Thermopyle. My second is Milos Taverner. There are only two of us aboard. Ship id follows -'

We have your ship id, ' Operations cut in. 'Come on, Captain. You're supposed to be smart - if you really are Angus Thermopyle. You know what the problem is. '

'Give me a hint, ' Angus retorted. 'I've been out of circulation for a while. I don't know what's changed since the last time I was here. '

'It's your ship id. ' Operations and Angus might have been playing a game which they both secretly enjoyed.

That's what the problem is. Trumpet. A Needle-class gap scout. Unarmed. A UMCP ship, it says here. Are you getting the picture, Captain? Do you understand now?'

What I understand, ' Angus replied in a tone of belligerence which may have been feigned, 'is that you aren't doing your job. I'll talk real slow, so you can get a good recording. I'm Angus Thermopyle. I've been here before, so I know you can do a voice-print comparison to verify that. My second is Milos Taverner. Until recently' -

Angus grinned fiercely at Milos — 'he was deputy chief of Com-Mine Station Security. You can talk to him if you want, but it won't do you any good. He hasn't been here before.

'Call me back when you're sure who I am. Then maybe you'll ask some questions smart enough for me to answer.

'Trumpet out. '

Milos lit another nic and inhaled hard so that he wouldn't do or say anything to show Angus how scared he was. He waited until he was sure he could keep his voice steady before he asked, 'Now what?'

'Now nothing. They'll call again when they're ready to talk. ' Angus didn't sound worried. They've already done their voice-prints. They're just shitting us to see how we react. '

Milos sucked on his nic and did his best not to worry.

Of course Billingate was suspicious. So of course Angus'

programming had been written to deal with Billingate's suspicions. There was nothing to worry about.

Milos worried anyway. His neck was already in the noose. The tighter the rope pulled, the more risks he would have to take to extricate himself.

A slight intensification of Angus' posture warned him an instant before the speakers relayed, 'Trumpet, this is Billingate Operations. It's time for answers. And you'd better make them good. We're in no mood for crap. '

Angus snapped a toggle. 'Operations, this is Captain Thermopyle. Of course you're in no mood for crap.

You've already got yourself to put up with. But it would help if you gave me a hint what you want me to say. '

'You bloated bastard' — Operations didn't sound particularly offended - 'you know perfectly well what we want you to say. We want you to account for yourself.

The last we heard, you were in Com-Mine lockup. Now suddenly here you are, in a UMCP ship, with Com-Mine Security's deputy chief for crew. Call me a gap-eyed dreamer, but that sure as hell sounds like a set-up to me.

We want you to give us a reason why we shouldn't fry you down to your pubic hair as soon you're in range.

'Is that enough of a hint, or do you need more?'

'Oh, it's enough, ' Angus snorted without hesitation. 'I can fill in the blanks. You think I've done a deal with the cops. They let me out of lockup, and all I have to do in return is take one of their ships into forbidden space, with one of their pets for crew, and do some kind of job for them. Like blowing you up, maybe? Is that about right?

'How fucking stupid do you think I am? How stupid do you think they are? Has the Bill gone null-wave in his old age?'

'Captain Thermopyle, ' Operations retorted tartly,

'we're going to believe what we damn well please until you offer us something better. You've got three choices.

Get the hell out of here. Come on in and let us fry you.

Or start talking. We don't care which one you choose -

but I personally guarantee that you're going to choose one of them. '

'Bullshit!' Angus grinned like a sneer. Who says you don't care what I do? Even if the Bill is brain dead, he's bound to realize he needs to know what's going on here.

If you fry me, he won't learn anything. And if I decide to go somewhere else, he won't learn anything. Either way, you'll be a prime candidate for some BR "improve-ments". If you haven't already had them.

'So pay attention. I don't want to go through this more than once. And put a stress monitor on my transmission, so you can at least guess I'm telling the truth.

'I was in lockup on Com-Mine. A life sentence for stealing Station supplies. You heard that part right. But Security was pissed because they couldn't convict me of anything worse. They assigned Deputy Chief Milos Taverner to break me. Tear me apart and dig out' - Angus snarled the words - 'my innermost secrets.

That didn't work, so after a while the cops - the United Mining Companies fucking Police themselves -

decided to take over. ' Angus probably didn't need the help of his zone implants to lie as calmly as he told the truth. They reqqed me, took me to UMCPHQ. Along with Milos here, since he presumably knew more about me than anybody else. I guess this new Preempt Act gave them the authority. And maybe they were glad Milos didn't break me. Maybe they wanted to keep what I know for themselves. '

Milos dropped his nic on the deck and lit another, hiding the tremors of his hands with smoke.

This is where it gets interesting, ' Angus continued.

'I've done a lot of things in my life, but the one they convicted me for I didn't do. I was framed. If you don't believe me, ask Captain Succorso. He's in dock there, right? Ask him. He set me up. And eventually the cops figured out that if Succorso set me up he must have had help. From Com-Mine Security.

'Now Milos knew he was in trouble. He provided the supplies Succorso used to frame me. They must have been working together for years. It was only a matter of time until the cops nailed him. So his little scam was finished. The cops were going to catch him — and as soon as they broke him they were probably going to execute him for his crimes.

'He didn't like that much. But how could he get out of it? He was stuck in UMCPHQ. He never expected to be reqqed, so he hadn't planned an escape. He can't run a ship himself. What else was he going to do? Before the cops revoked his clearances, he got me out. We went to the docks, jumped Trumpet's crew, and used their id tags to get ourselves aboard. Then we used his codes to clear her for a training run. Before UMCPHQ knew what was going on, we hit the gap and came here. End of story.

'How do you like it?' Angus asked sardonically.

On an impulse that resembled panic, Milos keyed his own pickup and said to Angus so that Operations would overhear him, 'They don't have to like it. Don't be so hostile. We can't go back. All they have to do is let us stay. '