Edge of Dark (27 page)

A
long, silvery robotic arm delivered a light pastry with a red berry sauce drizzled across the top. Charlie hadn't been so relieved to see a dessert course come in a long time. He and Nona were separated from each other by three people. There were twelve around the table. Shoshone and her intimate inner circle as far as he could tell. At any rate, there seemed to be an unreasonable amount of simpering, and that, in turn, appeared to be covering political undercurrents he had no idea how to read. The tension circling under the surface of the room was thick enough to drown in.

He had listened carefully during introductions, but he was certain the woman Gunnar had told them to find wasn't here. Amia. Instinct told him not to ask.

He didn't like being so far away from Nona that he couldn't hear what people said to her, or how she replied.

Shoshone sat on one side of him. On the other side, a tall willowy person named Miro had the most alluring parts of both a man and a woman warring in his or her face: high sharp cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, full pink lips and a ridged brow. Miro was saying, “Surely if you used more nano down there, you could get the restoration done sooner, and then more people could come visit. Isn't Lym kind of like a big museum? And wouldn't that make you more self-sufficient?”

Charlie took a sip of hot tea and reminded himself the awkwardness of the table talk almost certainly covered fear. After all, the
Bleeding Edge
would arrive just a few hours from now—which also kept wine and spirits off the table. At least Shoshone had that much sense.

The dinner felt surreal. If he were running the station he wouldn't be eating now, at least not at a formal dinner. He'd be pacing, and searching news channels, and meeting with senior staff. He'd be trying to work through fears with people. Shoshone was hosting an awkward party and talking about everything but the threat bearing down on them.

He picked up the pastry and bit into it. It melted in his mouth, the berry flavor just tart enough to offset the sugary bread. “Museums are dead and about the past,” he told Miro, even though he didn't expect anything he said here to matter. “Lym is alive, and what we're doing there is for everyone's future. We're re-creating a healthy planet to remind us that we're natural beings.” He winced. He must sound like he was lecturing.

Shoshone put a hand on his shoulder. “Pardon me. I need to interrupt.”

Her blue eyes were bright with some emotion he couldn't quite identify. Excitement? Nerves? She lifted a hand and he heard a soft click. A screen blossomed to life, and Shoshone stood up. “I give you the last ship to leave us before the Next arrive.”

Realization dawned slowly. If it wasn't the
Sultry Savior
pulling away, then it was her twin.

Nona had come out of her seat. “That's my ship!”

“I was very clear about your choices,” Shoshone said. “I messaged your second. Told him you'd decided to send the ship away for now. For its own safety, of course.”

Charlie stiffened, angry and alert all at once. “Why?” he demanded.

“Because now
I
control every outgoing message from here. You're from in-system. You can't know what it's like to live near the Next.”

Shoshone had said “Next” as if it were an honorific. He was beginning to understand the red flags the woman had been setting off inside of him. “Don't you work for Gunnar?” Charlie asked. “He wouldn't approve of this.”

“It was a perfectly logical choice for Nona to send the ship away. Besides, Gunnar's nowhere near us. The
Bleeding Edge
is going to be here in two hours.”

He hadn't read Henry as a deserter, so Shoshone must have been very convincing or Henry far more afraid than he'd shown.

Shoshone continued. “Dinner's over. You two are confined to quarters.”

Charlie glanced at Nona. Her face had gone white and her fists were clenched at her side. To her credit, she didn't say anything.

He had come to dinner with no weapons other than a knife he always kept in his boot. He looked around. Two of their dinner guests had risen with Shoshone, and they each held a stunner. One pointed at Nona and one at him.

Shoshone and her two armed minions followed as Charlie and Nona were led back to their rooms. They passed guards at the end of the hallway. “You'll be comfortable.” Shoshone said. “You can talk to each other, go between your rooms. But you can't leave your shared hallway.”

Charlie ignored her. He caught a glimpse of Nona's face before she was ushered into her room. She looked pissed off. Good. Pissed off was better than depressed. Shoshone led him into his own room and closed the door behind him. He sat down on the sofa.

“Come here.”

He recognized the voice, and followed it.

Gunnar Ellensson sat on his bed. Or maybe hulked on the bed was a better word. Gunnar was so big he took up half of the room.

Charlie must have looked as surprised as he felt, and as mistrustful. Gunnar gave him a soft smile and said, “Sit down. I'll explain.”

“Are you crazy?” Charlie asked. “What are
you
doing here?” He led the way into the sitting room.

Gunnar lumbered after him. “Instead of hiding in my station like a good little rich man?” Gunnar asked.

Anger tightened Charlie's muscles, the anger that came with fear when he was in danger at home. He decided to treat Gunnar as if he were a pack of tongats. “I wouldn't expect someone with so much to lose to risk physical travel.”

“I flew my own ships for the first ten years of my business. Sometimes I still do. You've just joined the other ten people in the solar system who know that.”

Charlie was still trying to parse the idea that Gunnar was here at all. “That's a lot of risk.”

“You're young. When you're my age, you just might realize that risk is your best friend.”

Charlie pointed at the door to the corridor. “So is Satyana with Nona?”

“No. Amia. And I'm not staying. I apologize for that, but you and Nona are far safer here than I am. I'm news everywhere, as well as a target. But I needed to warn you two.”

“Warn us?”

“I learned a few things since I sent you out here.”

Charlie thought a moment. “Maybe we have, too. Like that the woman you told us to find is stark raving mad. Shoshone doesn't like you much better than she likes us.”

“She doesn't know I'm here now. Amia smuggled me in.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Gunnar didn't offer any information on how such a big man had gotten around the station unseen. Charlie thought about the awkward dinner. “She doesn't have a good hold on her people. Shoshone.”

“They underestimate her. See that you don't.”

A stray thought wound its way out of Charlie's mouth. “That's why the ship left. You told it to. I couldn't figure out why Henry would betray Nona. But he was obeying you.”

“And I rank Nona.”

“Even on her own ship?”

Gunnar didn't reply.

Charlie had been angry since he left Shoshone's table. The anger felt deeper now, more dangerous. “Tell me what you came to tell us.” He pointed at the door and, by implication, at the guards. “This is far more dangerous than I had thought. You lied.”

Gunnar looked exaggeratedly patient. “That's why I'm sitting here in the clear in your room.”

“What ship did you come in on?”

“A local one. Belongs to the station. It's gone already—back out patrolling the perimeter.”

“Is it coming back for you?”

Gunnar shook his head. “There are some life boats. I'll get to one in a few minutes and my ship will pick me up. In the meantime, do you want to argue or do you want me to tell you what I know?”

“First, tell me how you beat us out here.”

“I have ships that are faster than Nona's. The
Savior
was built to explore, not defend.”

Something in the look on Gunnar's face reminded Charlie that he had decided this man was an enemy long ago. “Why did you come to see me instead of Nona?”

“She's being watched more closely than you are. Besides, Nona would be a lousy poker player.”

“Is Satyana with you?”

“She's back on the Deep, orchestrating the Council's response to this mess.” Gunnar put a hand up to forestall more questions. “Here's what I came to tell you. This station has been working with smugglers from the Edge for a long time.”

Charlie frowned. Bad news.

“I didn't know that when we decided to send you here. Amia suggested I get here before the Edge ship. I am only a third-owner of this station. Shoshone works for all three of us. She managed to see that we each had our interests met for some time. Our needs weren't conflicting, and everyone paid her well. Do you understand the setup?”

“Meaning, do I understand that you could get into a lot of trouble for associating with smugglers? Who are the other owners?”

“We're all traders.” Gunnar stood up and paced, his bulk filling the small room. “One of the other two builds ships. Maninara. Amia doesn't think Maninara works with the pirates. I'll be using one of
her
ships to get away. I've reserved one for you two, as well. It's small but it can get you out where we can pick you up.”

“Really?”

“It's number seventy-five. Can you remember that? Nothing can be written down. All of the Satwa's systems should be considered compromised.”

“By who?” Charlie wanted to know.

Gunnar was frustratingly good at avoiding hard questions. “The third owner traffics in robots. Zin Grey. His story has always been that he created robots designed to work autonomously this far from the sun. The High Sweet Home was a client of his, for example. But Amia informed me he's been trading with the ice pirates for the past fifty years. Illegal. Apparently it made Zin and Shoshone both very rich.”

Charlie wished Gunnar weren't pacing, so there would be room for him to pace. “So the Edge has been smuggling robots into the inner system?”

“I don't know exactly. Amia told me she doesn't know either. They've been taking bots from here out to Edge for years. Lots of them. She says that's the biggest trade by far.”

“Why would the trade go that way?” It seemed to be just plain wrong. Trading with any being outside of the Ring of Distance at all was so illegal that Shoshone could be locked up forever if she were discovered. The crime might even taint Gunnar by association, or touch Charlie and Nona.

Gunnar stopped just in front of Charlie. “I don't know. It must go both ways. We found more Next on the Deep, and other stations are reporting them, too.”

“There are robots on Lym that shouldn't—perhaps—be there.”

Gunnar cocked his head. “You're certain?”

“Almost. Someone I knew well died to tell me that.”

“I've got to go. Don't write anything down. Don't message us. Just learn what the Next want, then get away. We'll find you.”

“Will you try to find out if the Next are on Lym?”

Gunnar hesitated. “I won't protect Lym over the Deep.”

Bastard. Or over Mammot went unsaid. “Just tell me if you learn anything. That will be enough.”

Gunnar nodded, ever so slightly. But he promised nothing. “Keep your head down, and make Nona do that, too. Keep her safe. Satyana's worried.”

Maybe that alone explained why Gunnar was way out here. But he wasn't offering to take Charlie or Nona to safety.

“Tell Nona everything I've told you, but only in your rooms and when you're alone. Don't even tell Amia. Tell no one but Nona, and only in this room or her room. Amia assures me that all the rooms here are privacy shielded. Talking is the safest way to communicate. Get away when it seems right, and one of my ships will be waiting for you.”

“But you don't think we should leave now?”

“I suspect there will be a role for Nona yet.”

Bastard. Charlie said nothing.

“Stay here,” Gunnar told him. “Don't move for three minutes.”

Gunnar left the main room and went into the bedroom.

Charlie waited, expecting him to come back out. When he didn't, Charlie looked for him. There was no sign of the big man. The floor was hard, so there weren't any footprints to serve as clues.

He'd have to figure out how Gunnar got away later. Before that, he needed to check on Nona.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Nona

Nona managed to hold her anger close until after the door closed behind her, with Shoshone on the far side. How could the woman confine
her
?

How could Henry James have left?

She knew Henry disagreed with her; she knew she hadn't made any real effort to become his friend. She'd been—at best—a capable captain. In spite of that, she hadn't taken him for a deserter.

“Shoshone can be a real bitch when she wants to be.”