Judgment at Proteus (26 page)

“The
kristic
is a weapon for hunting small game,” Emikai said. “Upon sharp impact the balls secrete a strong adhesive through micropores. And they are most definitely
not
welcome aboard. They are forbidden, in fact.”

“So whoever it is who sneaks people aboard Proteus also likes playing with cargo manifests,” I said. “Is there any way to get the things off him?”

“The security nexus will have a solvent,” Emikai said, pulling out his multitool and popping out a knife blade. “Cutting the cords should enable him to walk properly.”

“Good idea,” I said. “I’d rather not have to carry him.”

“Yes.” Emikai set to work cutting through the cords. “I have a question. One which you may not like.”

“I get those all the time,” I assured him. “Go ahead.”

“How well do you truly know your assistant Bayta?”

“Extremely well,” I said, frowning. “Why?”

“I told you I was working on a deep-level analysis when the drill order came through,” he said. “I was attempting to backtrack the message you told me appeared on your computer, the one that instructed you to go to the dome just prior to Tech Yleli’s murder.”

“What did you find?”

“That there is no record of you having received any such message,” he said. “Not through the
Kuzyatru
Station system, or from any computer aboard.”

“Which just means our friends are better at this stuff than I thought.”

“That is one possibility.” Emikai cut through one of the cords and started working on the next one. “There is another.”

“That I’m lying?”

“That the message did not travel through the system because it originated on your computer.”

I snorted. “Right,” I said. “Doug sent it. Or maybe Ty—he’s the more literary of the two.”

“Or Bayta did.”

I shook my head. “Not a chance.”

“Are you sure?”

I opened my mouth to tell him that of course I was.

Only I wasn’t. There was no way I could be. Not with all the battles and other contact we’d had with the Modhri since this whole thing began. Certainly not with him lurking somewhere aboard Proteus. There was always the possibility, however small, that he’d gotten to her.

Or that he’d gotten to me.

And if there was a Modhran colony inside me, then it was all over. Any thought I had, any conclusion I came to, any plan I hatched—I would never know whether any of it was truly real, or pure illusion. I would be nothing but a puppet dancing on the Modhri’s strings, carefully and cleverly rationalizing every order he gave me, no better than any of his thousands or millions of other walkers.

No better, and a whole lot worse. Because unlike all those other walkers, I was in a position of authority and power unlike anything the Modhri had ever had before. I was in contact with Bayta, agent of the Chahwyn, and through her with the Spiders and the Chahwyn themselves. My words and actions could fatally affect the Chahwyn efforts against not only the Modhri but also his Shonkla-raa masters. Like it or not, I was a pivot point around which the fate of the galaxy teetered.

And then, the dry ice that had formed in my veins turned to liquid nitrogen. Because there was another, even more horrifying possibility.

What if the Modhri wasn’t involved in this at all? What if it was Bayta’s other half, the Chahwyn symbiotically encased within her? What if the defender Spiders aboard the super-express had reported back on my flagrant breaking of Quadrail rules, and the Chahwyn had decided I’d become a loose cannon that needed to be dealt with? What if they’d decided it was time that they took over the operation personally?

What if they’d decided to start with Bayta?

I looked sideways at Emikai’s profile. The Modhri, I knew, could take direct control over his walkers’ bodies without their permission or knowledge. Could the Chahwyn inside Bayta do the same?

Or was such a thing even possible? The way Bayta described it, her Human and Chahwyn halves were in close, permanent, conscious contact. But now that I thought about it, I realized that my understanding of their relationship was built mostly on my own assumptions.

I shook my head, a short, violent, brain-clearing movement. No. Bayta was my ally, and my friend. She wouldn’t betray me that way. Not unless she herself had also been betrayed.

Meanwhile, Emikai was still waiting for an answer. “No,” I said as firmly as I could. “She’d never do something like that.”

Emikai tilted his head slightly. “I know you would prefer to think not.”

“It’s not a preference, it’s simple logic,” I insisted. “What reason could she possibly have had to do that? To give me a reason to go over to the dome in the middle of the night? Ridiculous. I’m not a prisoner—I don’t need an excuse or reason to leave my quarters.”

“I make no suggestion as to reasons or motivations.” Emikai nodded at Doug. “But do you not also find it curious that one of the two
msikai-dorosli
assigned to you by
Chinzro
Hchchu has chosen to remain instead with Bayta?”

I grimaced. So Emikai had picked up on that, too. And if he had, had Hchchu or the Shonkla-raa? If so, what had they made of it? “What makes you think Hchchu
didn’t
assign us one each?” I countered.

“Did he?”

“I’m actually not sure,” I said. “I was concentrating on other things at the time and wasn’t paying attention to the nuances of his words. Even though I’m the one under indictment, maybe he figured we both needed watching.”

“Perhaps,” Emikai said. “But surely you noticed that both
msikai-dorosli
stayed close to your side during the preliminary hearing, when
Chinzro
Hchchu was present. Clearly,
they
understood that they were both supposed to watch you.”

“Yes, I noticed that,” I conceded. “I assumed it was just the grandeur of the setting and circumstances that had them both sticking with me at the time.”

“Perhaps,” Emikai said. “But turn that thought around. Perhaps it is at other times, not in
Chinzro
Hchchu’s presence, that they sense your companion needs to be watched.”

“Even if they were ordered to do something else?”

He shrugged. “It is known that the lower animals sometimes have senses and instincts beyond those of us who are fully sentient. Those senses can allow them to perceive and understand things we ourselves cannot.”

Like when Bayta stopped being Bayta and became a Modhri? Or a Chahwyn? “I’ll think about it,” I said. “You about done there?”

The last cord snapped. “Yes,” Emikai said, putting away the multitool. “Do we go to the nexus?”

“Yes,” I said, straightening up and looking around the deserted corridor. Round two was over. I wondered what the Shonkla-raa had in mind for round three. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

*   *   *

I called Bayta on our way, confirmed she was still safely in our room, gave her a thumbnail of what had happened, and told her to stay put.

The Jumpsuits in the security nexus seemed decidedly annoyed that someone had smuggled a
kristic
aboard, and made all the usual police-type noises about looking into it, bringing the perpetrators of my assault to justice, etc. I’d made plenty of the same noises during my time with Westali, and I knew not to expect much to come out of it. Especially since they also had to admit they’d still made no progress in locating Terese.

I also wasn’t surprised that they turned down my request for a gun.

Still, they were efficient enough about getting the
kristic
glue balls off Doug. An hour after arriving at the nexus we finally headed out, with Emikai insisting on escorting me back to my quarters. We stopped by one of the restaurants on our way to pick up some dinner, and at long last I was finally home.

“Do not forget the court proceedings at ten tomorrow,” Emikai reminded me as Bayta undid the inner lock and opened the door. “I will be here an hour before that time to escort you.”

“Better make it an hour and a half,” I said. “Minnario said we lost points last time by being the tail end of the parade.”

“An hour and a half it will be.” Emikai eyed me. “Until then, I suggest you remain here.”

“With the door double-locked,” I agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ve had more than enough excitement for one day. Farewell, and thank you again.”

“Farewell.” Nodding to each of us, he turned and strode down the hallway, his gun bouncing at his hip.

I stepped inside, waited for Doug to pad his way in behind me, then closed the door and double-locked it. “I hope you’re hungry for Shorshian beef and rice squares with imported Human chili sauce,” I said as I crossed the room toward the dining area. Ty, I noted, was already sacked out on the bed in his usual spot by the headboard, apparently completely unaware of the ordeal his buddy had been through this evening. Briefly, I wondered if the animals were intelligent enough to share that kind of information, and whether Doug would bother, and whether Ty would care.

“Never mind the food,” Bayta said, taking my arm in a firm and very worried grip. “How are
you
?”

“They never laid a hand on me,” I said. “That’s actually true, by the way. Which isn’t to say they didn’t try.”

For a long moment Bayta gazed into my eyes, her face drawn and pale and tense. Then, reluctantly, she let go of my arm and sank down into one of the dining table chairs. “What are we going to do, Frank?” she asked. “I’ve never felt—how do I explain it? Pulled in so many directions at the same time.”

“Our Shonkla-raa friends have definitely been busy little bees,” I agreed, sitting down across from her. “And you’re right, one way or the other we’re being chased all over the countryside.” I opened up the bag. “Maybe it’s time we cut through some of the ground clutter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I know how I can end this stupid trial once and for all,” I told her. “Or at least get it postponed to the point where we can effectively cross it off our list of things to do. Once that’s done, we can concentrate on turning Proteus upside down until we find Terese.”

Bayta shivered. “If she’s still even aboard the station. Or if she’s still…”

“She’s alive, and she’s aboard,” I said firmly. “They want her baby, remember?”

“They want
him
alive,” Bayta murmured. “They may not care about her.”

“At this point, the simplest and safest life-support system for Terese’s baby is Terese,” I said. “Anyway, there’s no point in thinking or worrying about any other possibilities, so we won’t. Understand?”

Bayta took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said, some of the frustration fading from her voice as the calm, cool part of her took over again. “And we
will
find her.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said approvingly as I laid out the bowls and utensils and the packages the restaurant had packed. “But right now, it’s time to eat. Can’t rescue a maiden in distress on an empty stomach, you know. Especially one who isn’t very keen on being rescued.”

“She appreciates us more than she lets on,” Bayta said quietly. “I think Dr. Aronobal is right. She’s been alone for a long time.”

Several snide comments flashed across my mind, most of them revolving around how a lot of that might well be Terese’s own personality. But I left them unsaid. Bayta wasn’t in the mood.

Besides, she could be right. She’d spent more time with Terese than I had, after all. “Well, she’s not going to be alone much longer,” I said instead. “Motherhood has a way of doing that. Eat up, and then I for one am turning in. It’s been a long, rich day.”

“Especially for you.” Bayta started spooning rice squares into one of the bowls. “What about Blue One?”

“What about him?”

“I was wondering about tomorrow morning,” she said. “If we’re all going to be in court—you, me,
Logra
Emikai, and Minnario—there’ll be no one available to watch him.”

“True,” I said. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about that. We’ll just have to double-dose him in the morning and hope for the best.”

“What if the Shonkla-raa search all of our quarters while we’re out?” she persisted. “There isn’t anywhere in any of these rooms where you could hide an unconscious body for very long.”

“Sure there is,” I said, watching her closely out of the corner of my eye as I spooned some of the rice squares into my bowl. “We’ll just stuff him back in the file cabinet. No reason why the Shonkla-raa would suspect that it was full of Filly instead of files.”

Only I knew that they’d already been in Yleli’s apartment, when they’d sent that fake evacuation drill message. I knew they’d seen the file drawers we’d left behind and wouldn’t be fooled for a minute by a supposedly full file cabinet in Minnario’s room. If Bayta had been infected by the Modhri and knew about the Shonkla-raa’s computer scam, and if I was very lucky, she might show some reaction to my nonsensical argument.

But she didn’t, at least not in any way that I could detect. “I suppose that’ll work,” she said, a bit doubtfully as she picked up her fork. “Can Minnario lift him all by himself?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “It’s only his legs that don’t work. His upper body’s strong enough. And he can always use a couple of his chair’s thrusters if he needs help.”

“I suppose.” Bayta hesitated. “Do you think Blue One knows where Terese is?”

I shrugged. “He says he doesn’t, but I’m not ready to believe him. Tomorrow, right after the hearing, we’ll see about finding out for sure.”

Bayta shivered. “That sounds … not very pleasant.”

“It won’t be,” I agreed grimly. “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. Her expression was still disturbed, but her voice was firm enough. “I’ll be there.”

We ate our dinner mostly in silence. Afterward, as promised, I got ready for bed. Bayta stayed up a while longer, working on the computer, but after an hour or so she gave up and went to bed herself, maneuvering carefully so as not to disturb Ty. Doug, as usual, had taken up his self-appointed guard post at the door.

I waited for two hours after Bayta settled in under the blankets, dozing a little but mostly staying awake, watching and listening. Finally, when her breathing had settled down into the slow rhythm of deep sleep, I got up, dressed, and crossed to the door.