A Dark and Hungry God Arises (27 page)

But Milos missed his opportunity. The moment passed; without warning Angus began to talk.

'Message for Milos Taverner from Warden Dios. ' The words seemed to reach his mouth directly from his datacore. 'Milos, this was recorded before you left UMCPHQ. You've just been given a rather nasty shock.

I regret that, but it was necessary. On this one subject, you were misled. Everything else you were told concerning Joshua, your mission and yourself remains true.

Joshua has not diverged from his programming. Your command codes still function. You have not been betrayed.

When you return to UMCPHQ, I will personally explain why it was necessary to mislead you. '

'Message ends. '

At the same instant Angus' mind came back on-line.

Grinning with relief, he jeered, Too bad. Better luck next time. I guess it just doesn't pay to trust those bastards. ' As if nothing unexpected had happened, he twitched one hand in Nick's direction. 'He won't take long. She hasn't got a prayer against a seductive fucker like him. You'd better be ready to move in a couple of minutes. '

He was thinking, Clever, Dios. Nice ploy. Too bad it won't work. You're too late - you've already lost him.

What kind of game are you playing?

The whole point of admitting a lie - the only reason Dios could have for admitting that he'd lied - was to conceal other, more crucial falsehoods.

'Oh, shit, ' Milos breathed as if he were in shock. 'Oh, shit. He set me up. '

Confident and mocking, Nick looked at one of the woman's companions and said something which made the man go pale. Uncertain of his balance, the machinist or tool-handler stumbled out of his chair and retreated from the table.

Her other companion appeared to ask her for support.

She ignored him, however: her attention was fixed hungrily on Nick. As he seated himself beside her and reached with the back of one hand to stroke her cheek, her remaining escort stood up so awkwardly that he knocked over his chair. Swearing with empty resentment, he also retreated.

Angus knew how the woman felt. Like her, he was nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. Nobody could betray him: he could only be lied to or abused.

But Milos, on the other hand -

Milos was just beginning to grasp how profoundly he'd been betrayed.

A shudder like a convulsion ran through him. As if he were choking, he gasped out, 'Open your mouth. '

Angus had no defense against that order. His datacore didn't protect him: it enforced Milos' authority. Sick with recognition and helplessness, he obeyed.

Deliberately Milos took his nic and stubbed it out on Angus' tongue.

In his mind Angus let out a roar. Heaved up the table, used it to knock Milos backward; then pitched it out of his way and jumped at his tormentor. He had the strength of a great ape, he could beat anybody. With a series of kicks, he snapped Milos' sternum, shattered his ribs, crushed his larynx; with his hands, he gouged out Milos' eyes. He didn't stop until there was nothing left except a bloody pulp -

But only in his mind.

In reality he closed his mouth on a flame of pain and a sick taste of ash. While his tongue burned and blistered, he chewed the nic until he could swallow it.

His stomach would have puked its contents onto the tabletop if his zone implants had allowed that.

'That doesn't make sense, ' Milos whispered. The codes still work - I can still control you. But they lied about why we're here. ' He fought to contain his fear. Why let me control you - why pretend I can control you - if I don't know what you've been programmed to do?'

'I can think of a reason, ' Angus croaked past his pain.

'So can I, ' Milos countered. This whole thing is aimed at me. I swear to God!' he raged without raising his voice, 'they are going to regret treating me like this. '

By now Nick was so close to the woman that she practically sat in his lap. One of his hands had moved from her cheek downward to stroke her neck, her shoulder, the exposed curve of her breast. The other was buried in her hair at the back of her head. Exactly as instructed.

'It's time, ' Angus announced. His tongue and stomach felt like he'd just eaten quicklime; but his programming ignored those discomforts — and Milos' anger. He pushed himself to his feet.

Glaring bitterly around him, Milos delayed long enough to light another nic. Then he stood up and followed Angus toward Nick and the woman.

Angus chose an approach that kept him behind the woman, out of her sight. He understood her equipment as clearly as if he'd designed it himself. Her eyes and ears were wired: she was like a video camera with an audio pickup. In consequence she only transmitted what she herself saw and heard.

The noises of the bar covered him as he moved toward her.

Leads from her receptors to her powerpack ran down her neck just beneath her skin. Nick's hand on the back of her head served two purposes: it distracted her sense of touch; and it would demonstrate his innocence. Angus flicked a glance at him to confirm that he was ready; but he was too practiced at seduction to look away from his victim. As Angus neared her, Nick lowered his head to lick a kiss into the hollow of her throat.

Scarcely touching the base of her neck with his knuckles, Angus pricked her with a tiny burst of laser-fire which went only millimeters deep; so shallow and keen that she might not feel it; just deep enough to cut the leads to her wire. Then he moved on toward the door, leaving behind only a small red droplet of blood to mark the harm he'd done her.

He felt her stiffen as he passed; heard her say, 'Ow, ' in a tone of fuddled protest. But he didn't look back to see whether she turned her head in his direction. That was Nick's problem: it was his responsibility to make sure she didn't know — therefore couldn't tell the Bill — who might have hurt her.

With Milos trailing after him, Angus took the lift back up to his room.

When the woman's wire stopped transmitting, the Bill would assume at first that she'd cut him off intentionally, so that she could have a little more privacy with Nick.

And he wouldn't take that kindly. However, one look at her neck and the leads would convince him she hadn't done the damage herself. If she couldn't report that Angus or Milos had been anywhere near her, he would believe Nick was to blame.

That was the real point of the gambit. As a secondary consideration, it might give Nick a lever to use on the woman. If he needed one; if his famous virility and charm weren't enough. Nevertheless the primary purpose was to focus the Bill's distrust away from Angus and Milos.

Which was fine, as far as it went. Unfortunately it did nothing to solve Angus' more immediate problems.

Caustics filled his mouth, and his stomach kept trying unsuccessfully to make him vomit. His head was a wilderland, as bleak and fatal as the gap. Milos had come to the end of his sufferance: Angus' sufferings had just begun.

Dios had said, It's got to stop. Whatever that meant, it obviously didn't refer to Angus' distress. The UMCP

director had no intention of easing Angus' helplessness, letting him out of the crib -

He was a coward: he knew what was about to happen to him.

Grimly he said his name to the intercom outside his door. When the door slid aside, he entered the room as if he expected to be executed.

Milos joined him before the door closed. For a moment the two men stood watching each other like mortal enemies. Then, simply because he didn't want to look as scared as he felt, Angus sat in one of the chairs and tilted it back until it was propped against the wall.

'Make yourself comfortable, ' he mumbled past his sore tongue. 'We haven't got all night, but you can probably count on at least an hour. ' Nick would take at least an hour, if for no other reason than to demonstrate his virility.

'You've got that long. '

Milos dropped his eyes as if he were ashamed - or as if he had something to hide. Poking another nic into his mouth, he wandered over to the data terminal and tapped a few keys, apparently just to be sure the thing worked.

After that he took the other chair, set it beside Angus', and lowered himself into it.

'You know something about this, Angus. Something you haven't told me. Maybe something you heard from Dios. '

If he was worried about the bugeye, he didn't show it.

On the other hand, he made no effort to invoke Angus'

command codes.

'I know a lot of things I haven't told you, ' you cheap, deranged piece of shit, Angus replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster. 'I know a lot of things I haven't told myself. I wouldn't share them with you if I could. '

Well, let me guess, ' Milos murmured as if he were deaf to Angus' tone. 'Saying we're here to destroy the Bill is just a trick. The real reason is because of me. And Morn Hyland. That doesn't sound very plausible - until you think about what she and I have in common.

'She's been to Enablement. To the Amnion. '

Prompted by visceral caution, Angus returned thickly,

'Don't guess. It just shows you don't know what you're doing. '

'Oh, I know what I'm doing, all right, ' Milos promised. 'Open your mouth. '

Although his nic was only half finished, he dropped it on Angus' tongue. While Angus chewed and swallowed miserably, Milos lit a fresh smoke.

'It's my neck in the noose, and I'm not going to let you or anybody else hang me.

'I suppose, ' he continued with his own bitterness, 'you really can't tell me what you know. And it probably isn't much anyway. You're just an incidental victim. From that point of view, you're worse off than I am.

'We all need somebody who's worse off than we are. '

He regarded Angus thoughtfully. 'Or who can be made worse off. '

Angus didn't say anything. At this moment he believed he would have been willing to sell his life for the simple freedom to throw up.

As if he'd made his point, Milos also fell silent. He appeared relaxed in his chair. Only the passionate intensity with which he smoked revealed his underlying agitation.

For over an hour while they waited together, he made Angus eat each of his discarded nics in turn. Keeping the room tidy by using Angus as a human ashtray seemed to give him an obscure satisfaction, as if it helped put the moral grime of his circumstances into perspective.

It was too bad, really. She was a lovely creature in her frail, drunken way. She could have done so much more - she might even have been worth his effort -

if she hadn't already spent most of her life pickling her brain. All the alcohol she consumed hadn't done her body any harm; not yet. Her scant clothing made that obvious.

Her breasts were full and taut; the line of her hips was seamless. Nevertheless the blur in her eyes and the slack-ness of her mouth showed that she'd abandoned herself, not to him, but to numbness.

That took some of the fun out of what Nick was doing.

He considered this as he pretended to comfort her distress at the small pain Angus had left on the back of her neck. Women: why was it always a question of women?

Wherever he went, whatever he did, they were always the means to his ends - and the reason those ends proved hollow when he gained them.

Apparently this one was too drunk to care what had happened. The disfocused accessibility on her face was like a glimpse into the nature, a precognition that what he got from her would be as hollow as everything else.

But he didn't stop; maybe he couldn't. The forces which drove him were fundamental, almost autonomic.

With the fingers of one hand, he massaged her tiny hurt; the knuckles of the other stroked the sweet curve between her breasts; his mouth made consoling noises against her ear. Even if his brain had decided to pull away from her before he became helplessly enmeshed in Angus' plots, Angus' betrayals, his body might have remained where it was, delicately stoking her bleary responses until she could no longer control them.

As always, he would deal with the danger later.

The danger was real: he knew that. None of his dealings with Milos had given him any reason to trust the former deputy chief of Com-Mine Security. And Angus was treachery personified; so malign that his falseness was virtually metaphysical.

On the other hand, they were both vulnerable here.

The fact that they'd come to Thanatos Minor together in a stolen UMCP ship showed how precarious their position was. In addition - Nick admitted this with professional detachment - Angus' plan made sense.

Angus had left a number of interesting details unexplained, such as how exactly he proposed to snatch Davies. Nevertheless his reasoning was irreproachable.

Nick didn't like taking orders from Angus Thermopyle; but he liked the way Angus thought. He wished he hadn't lost the capacity to think that way himself.

Well, maybe he hadn't lost it entirely. He still had ideas; still saw opportunities. But even as incomplete as he sometimes felt, he hadn't lost his power over women like this. She may have been able to refuse offers or entreaties from the slime on the cruise; but after a few minutes in his company, a few minutes of his touch, her stunned gaze begged him to possess her.

Simply to build up tension, he postponed the next step. While he murmured vacant descriptions of her beauty and how he felt about it, his fingertips eased under her garments to caress what little they concealed; his grin grew sharper, as if to cut away defenses she no longer had. But he didn't move to leave the table until she finally breathed in a voice made husky by drink, 'Take me somewhere. '

Humorously avid - and secretly contemptuous - he answered, 'I was hoping you would say that. '

Then he guided her to her feet.

Unsure of her balance, she leaned against him in a way that urged him to wrap his arm around her as he moved her out of the bar toward the front desk.

Rooms in Ease-n-Sleaze weren't expensive by the standards of the cruise. Nevertheless the right to use six twenty-one for a while made a noticeable dent in his small account. He didn't care, however. If he'd measured his life by his accumulated credit, he would have had to call himself a failure. But he wasn't a failure, no, nobody except Sorus Chatelaine had ever called him that; and he was going to teach her to think otherwise. His plans against her continued to take shape as he rode the lift to the sixth level. The drunk in his arms nuzzled his neck as if she knew what he wanted, but his mind was far away. After too many distractions - Angus, Milos, Morn herself - he returned to the only subject that really mattered to him.