Children of Scarabaeus (19 page)
Questions ran through her head—nothing she needed to voice, because she knew he was asking himself the same questions. Achaiah was nothing if not unpredictable. Evil one moment, inexplicably generous the next. What might he have done while jacked into Finn’s chip? Something Natesa had ordered him to do? Something on his own whim?
Or had he done exactly what he’d been brought to do—attempt to cut the leash, nothing more?
She knew Natesa would smoothly deny anything else was going on. And she’d never get to Achaiah, who was probably already in the brig awaiting transportation back to prison.
“Okay, listen,” Edie said, forcing calm into her voice. “I’m not finding any new programming in here.” Achaiah’s after-taste was thicker through some tiers than others, leaving a trail of his linkup. “He examined the leash pretty thoroughly.”
“Why? He created the fucking thing.”
“Maybe to refresh his memory before trying to cut it. Maybe to check if I’ve tampered with it.” She withdrew her hand, satisfied with the examination. “As far as I can tell, he didn’t try to cut it. I guess he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t know how.”
“Then why the hell is he even here?” The venom in his voice made her wince, even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her.
“He probably convinced Natesa there was a chance, just so he could enjoy an excursion out of his cell for a few days.”
“Earlier you tried to convince me Natesa wants me dead. Why didn’t she just ask Achaiah to trigger the bomb by accident?”
“Because she knows I’d never forgive that. She’ll be more subtle, so I can never really be sure. So I can never blame her.”
Finn spanned his forehead with one hand, massaging his temples as though doing so might erase the lethal chip from his skull. “I want this fucking bomb defused. I’m tired of being
owned
.”
He pushed away from the wall and headed for the lift. Edie had to jog a few paces to catch up to him. As the car descended to the lower decks, she kept quiet, unable to gauge his mood until he looked directly at her and she saw a calm determination had returned to his eyes.
“Sorry, Edie,” he said quietly. “Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay. Didn’t think you had.”
She would have said more, something about understanding how it felt to be owned and trapped and afraid. But he pulled her against him then, in a tight embrace, burying his face in her shoulder. His chest moved against hers as he breathed, deep and slow.
“I’ll ask Corinth to try and cut the leash,” he said.
Considering Lukas’s death and now this, it was time to make a definitive effort of their own.
Edie was summoned to the admin deck that afternoon. She found Natesa in the conference room of the admin suite, which had been transformed into a reception area. Gone was the long heavy table. The walls had been opened up to adjoining rooms to create a large open space. Around the outer bulkheads were large holo displays, each projecting a different aspect of Project Ardra and the terraforming efforts on the planet below. The entire effect was, presumably, to convince the visiting Crib ’crats that all was well on Prisca, and that Crib citizens were safe in Natesa’s hands.
Natesa was deep in conversation with her assistant Darian as they went over schedules. Edie hovered near the door until Natesa finally noticed her.
“Ah, Edie. I’d like you to prepare a short presentation on Prisca’s progress for our guests during the reception and banquet tomorrow night.”
Edie hadn’t expected that. “You want me to explain how things are going horribly wrong?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Chessell’s latest data from the surface is quite reassuring. He tells me the new adjustments he implemented are going according to plan.”
“He planned for large areas of biomass degradation? Because I’m betting that’s what’s going to happen. Already
is
happening in some localized regions—”
“Degradation is a very strong word. My understanding is that we have contained regions of instability, which is only to be expected as the planet’s complex ecosystem adapts to the accelerated retroviral interference.”
“There’s no such thing as a
contained
region when it comes to BRAT seeds. They talk to each other constantly. And if that instability, as you call it, can’t be reversed, we’re going to end up with complete ecosystem collapse.”
“Nonsense. We’re talking about a few small problem areas.”
“We’re talking about a domino effect once the collapse begins.”
Natesa pursed her lips and shooed Darian away. “Your negativity is the last thing I need at this function,” she hissed. “I need a nice upbeat report on our new regulator technology. Nothing too technical. These guests are VIPs from Central. They support Project Ardra, and we need that support to continue. They need to see the project working, and working well. They’ll tour the dirtside facility, where Chessell is ready to show them our amazing results so far. I can’t have you contradicting the expert opinion of my team down on the surface.”
“Then you want me to lie?”
“I want you to emphasize the enormous progress we’ve made in terraforming technology with the implementation of the regulator code. I want you to explain the children’s
role in handling the error logs, and how their unique team-work enables us to monitor and adjust the terraforming process in a way that’s never been done before. I want you to present a united front as we demonstrate these successes we’ve worked so hard for.”
Edie chewed her lip as she glanced around the room, surrounded by the ridiculous hype of Ardra that whitewashed all problems. If she were a ’crat from Central, eager to hear good news, she might be convinced by the flashy, reassuring holos. But she’d seen data they never would. There was a chance she was wrong about the degradation already taking place, but she didn’t think so. She and the children had spent hours on Caleb’s error logs. They couldn’t work through the logs fast enough—and their solutions only patched up a disaster waiting to happen.
Still, this wasn’t her problem. She could toe the line for Natesa. She had to, because she was only biding time.
“Okay,” she relented, “I’ll do what you want. My warnings about impending degradation still stand, though. I don’t think Caleb is being cautious enough.”
“Please don’t think I’m discounting your opinion,” Natesa said. “First and foremost, we must allay any doubts our visitors may have. However…” A glimmer of that nervousness that Edie had noticed at their last meeting was back. “I appreciate your concerns about our chief cypherteck. Ming Yue Huang has raised the same concerns—she feels his ego may be affecting his scientific impartiality. Now that he’s dirtside, I want you to double-check a few things in the lab.”
“I don’t have the clearance to look at his files.”
“I will authorize it.”
“What exactly should I look for?”
“There’s a possibility that he’s being…overly optimistic in his reports.”
“You mean less than honest?”
“No, that is
not
what I mean.” Natesa regarded her through slitted eyes. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I’ll have Aila give the presentation. She’s not quite so good with
the technical details, but she knows enough to satisfy our audience.”
Edie shrugged. “Fine. So do I still have to attend this function?”
“Of course. Everyone knows the famous Edie Sha’nim has returned to my team. You’ll put in an appearance. And wear something nice.”
You must be kidding.
Edie bit back the words. Instead, she approached another touchy subject.
“Finn told me about Achaiah attempting to cut the leash. Why wasn’t I told about it?” She masked her anger behind a forced offhand tone.
Natesa gave a tight smile of apology. “I didn’t want you involved. If something went wrong, you’d only blame yourself.” How considerate. Natesa seemed oblivious to the fact that Edie would like to have been given the choice. “In any case, it’s a great pity Achaiah failed,” Natesa went on. “What I wouldn’t give to remove that man from this ship and from your life for good.”
The words were benign at face value, but they sent a chill through Edie. Again she found herself holding back a response.
Natesa started to move away, ending the conversation. Then she suddenly turned back. “Oh, you’ll be happy to know that Pris woke up last night. So far, she seems to be recovering well.”
Then she did walk off, beckoning to Darian, who rushed over obsequiously, and Edie was left standing there to absorb the news.
“I’m doing an excellent job,” Galeon announced when he opened the hatch to the lab that night. “You should find more top secret missions for me.”
Finn followed Edie into the room and snapped the hatch shut behind them. “I’ll think about it.”
“Come on, then,” Galeon said, producing his little holoviz and turning expectantly to Finn. They would have to indulge him for a while, then send him off before Valari and Corinth arrived.
“Wait, I have something for you,” Finn said.
He handed over the pouch Edie had seen earlier. The boy tipped its contents on the tabletop.
“What are they?” He picked up a peg in his fingers and turned it over to examine it from all angles.
From his pocket Finn withdrew and unfolded the board he’d fashioned from sheets of plaz and polished to a high sheen. “This is a real Pegasaw set.”
Galeon’s eyes lit up. “For me?”
“Yes. Do you have somewhere safe to hide this stuff?”
“Of course! I’ve got lots of treasures in the dorm that no one knows about.”
Edie watched awhile as they played. She could tell Galeon
enjoyed the feel of the pegs between his fingers. Was it really that simple to please the boy? She tried to remember herself at that age—an outcast among the Talasi, living in the Crib relocation camps with milit guards for friends because they were the only ones who’d talk to her. One of them, Ursov, used to tell her about the stars he’d visited. He would talk about his son. Looking back, she hardly remembered the things he’d said. She realized now it was the attention she’d relished. The knowledge that someone cared, that she wasn’t invisible.
Did Galeon feel anyone cared for him beyond his role as a teck?
He was particularly talkative tonight. He wanted to know who taught Finn to play Pegasaw, what else he was good at, if he liked coco-rice. Whether he’d ever owned a dog. Even Finn was surprised by that last one.
“I grew up on a farm. There were dogs around,” he said.
“But did you have your own dog?”
“My sister sort of adopted one once.”
“What did it look like?”
“A stringy mutt with hair flopping in its eyes. We taught it to fish.”
“Dogs can fish?”
“This dog could fish. There was a stream at the bottom of our property and we fished for flat guppy.”
Edie listened in fascination. She’d never managed to extract this much information from Finn about his past.
“I want a dog,” Galeon said.
“A dog is a big responsibility,” Finn said, while Edie’s heart twisted at the yearning in Galeon’s voice.
“A lizard, then. Or a spider.”
“A pet spider?” Finn smiled indulgently. When he glanced at Edie, the smile faded. He must sense something coming through the leash—she felt unhappy enough to set it buzzing—and now he must see it on her face.
“Yes, a pet spider would be cool,” Galeon was saying. “But they won’t let me have one. I asked.” He moved a peg decisively. “Maybe you could ask for me?”
A grim expression came over Finn as he looked at the boy. Edie could tell he was affected by Galeon’s innocent request.
“Can’t help you there,” he said at last.
Galeon hid his disappointment well. “That’s okay. It would frighten the girls, anyway.”
Ten minutes later they were done with the game and Edie sent Galeon back to bed via the access tubes, new Pegasaw set in pocket.
“I can’t bear the thought of leaving him here,” Edie said. “He just needs to be a little boy.”
Finn was still sitting at the table where they’d played, lost in his thoughts, and acknowledged her words with a barely perceptible shrug of one shoulder. The gesture seemed to say,
What am I supposed to do about it?
“That childhood you talked about,” she went on, determined to make him see. “Dogs and fishing and…I didn’t even know you had a sister! That childhood, that’s what these children will never have.” She slid into the seat opposite him. “You told me you were tired of being owned. I understand that. I’m tired of being pushed around, too. We’ll send out this crack tonight, make sure it works, then transmit it across the Reach—and our Fringe mission will be complete. After that…Finn, escaping the Crib isn’t enough for me anymore. I want to help these kids. I want to take them with us.”
His expression didn’t change. “Even if it goes against our best interests?”
“We can figure out a way. Galeon will do whatever you tell him to.”
“If you take away these kids, Natesa will just bring in a new batch.”
“Probably not. They’re saying this planet is her only shot at proving herself with Project Ardra. But even if she does bring in more, I’ll still have saved
these
kids.”
“Valari won’t go for it.”
Jezus, didn’t he see she wanted him to persuade Valari on her behalf?
The Saeth arrived a few minutes later as planned, and Valari didn’t go for it.
“If this remote crack idea of yours doesn’t work, we need Finn on the Fringe. That humanitarian mission far outweighs your personal concern for some kids. We can’t risk the rescue operation. I won’t risk it.”
“You said you don’t leave brothers behind,” Edie said carefully. “These are my brothers and sisters, and I won’t leave them behind.” She waited for Finn to jump in, but he remained silent.
“Then let’s hope Corinth can cut the leash,” Valari said, “and I won’t have to worry about the children
or
about you.”
So, she’d leave Edie behind. That wasn’t entirely unexpected.
“And if he can’t?”
“I can’t imagine it’s that hard to force the issue.” Valari made a deliberate visual sweep of Edie from head to toe, as if assessing how hard it would be to take her down. There was really no question—of course she and Corinth could force Edie to comply. A little manhandling, one spike of tranq, and there was nothing she could do about it.