Morgan's Choice (5 page)

She walked over to Jones, catlike even in an
isolation suit. “Your friend finds this very easy.” She spoke very
softly and he had to strain to hear.

“She finds everything very easy,” he blurted.
Shit. He shouldn’t have said that. “She is very clever. Much
cleverer than me.” He gave her a wide smile. Maybe he could make
friends with her. “But not as pretty as you.” She wasn’t bad
looking. At least as far as he could tell, with her all covered up
in an isolation suit.

Sayvu’s lips curved. “I could give you extra
lessons.”

“How?”

“I can have you brought back here in an hour,
say. We can work together, you and I.”

Work together at what? He wished she didn’t
have to wear that blasted helmet. The light reflected off the
curved surface, hiding her expression. “I would like that.” He
bowed a little deeper this time, careful not to stare.

****

When Jones returned, Sayvu made the trooper
stand outside.

“This is very kind of you,” he said when he’d
seated himself at the table.

“I feel sorry for you. You are so much like
us.”

He grinned. “I still will not be able to tell
you where I come from. I do not know.”

“Yes, I understood that. So you will never be
able to go home.”

“Probably.” Unless Selwood could work
something out.

She hesitated, licked her lips. “Do all your
people have eyes like yours? Or just the men?”

“Oh, everybody. Including the women. Selwood
is different. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. If you can’t go home, what will you
do?”

He gazed at the tabletop, smooth and
unmarked. “Do? What do you mean?”

“Well, from what you have said you are Vesha,
like me.”

Vesha. Merchants, businessmen and in the
military, most often cargo masters, stores people, accountants.
People like him. “Yes.”

“So you do not wish to be on a warship.”

A statement. “No. Not really. What about
you?”

“I had no choice. We all must serve for two
years. I have two months before I may leave.”

A conscript. “So you’re not likely to end up
as a ship’s captain, then.”

She scowled. “Only Mirka become command
officers.” She gestured behind her head. “Those with the
coti
.”

“
Coti
?”

“Mirka officers wear their hair short on top
and sides but at the back a long piece.”

Ah yes. He’d noticed that when the senior
officers came to visit them all those days ago. He’d have to be
careful here. He was sure he’d detected some resentment.

“You don’t like the Mirka?”

“It is not fair. We are just as capable of
command as they are.” She stiffened, frowning, urgent. “Please… you
will not tell I said that?”

She’d just told whoever was monitoring the
room hadn’t she? He looked pointedly at the nearest sensor.

She jerked her head up, their body language
for ‘no’. “I have switched them off. It is the end of the day. Our
conversation is private.”

Had she, indeed? “Well, no. I won’t tell.”
Why would it matter anyway? “Look, why don’t you tell me about you?
Where you were born, where you grew up, your family?”

By the end of the evening, he knew her father
was a wealthy merchant and that she had elected to serve the fleet
in training so she could meet many different manesa and learn more
about them. Market research, you might say. And she told him her
personal name was Indra.

The following evening Sayvu did the same
thing, bringing him back for extra ‘lessons’, with the guard
outside. More ordinary conversation, about families and politics,
the Mirka planetary rulers and their despotic rule.

“So not all Mirka are military?”

“No. But of course, the military helps to
maintain the power of their own. They crush any resistance.”

Contempt again. A curled lip, a scowl. Maybe,
just maybe there could be an opportunity here for an enterprising
individual like himself. “You don’t like the system?”

“
No. I like the way you said your society
works. With choice.” She hesitated, searching his face. “I am
a
Bunyadan
.” She
rushed on, almost as if she feared she’d change her mind if she did
not. “The
Bunyada
believe
that all manesa were created equal, that all with the ability have
the right to command,” she said.

“Even the Shuba?”

“No, no.” She inclined her head, smiling.
“Only those with the ability. Not Shuba. They are laborers,
ordinary soldiers. And Hasta…” she raised both palms to shoulder
height, a gesture of contempt. “They are artisans.”

So only Mirka and Vesha. Some classes are
more equal than others.

“And years ago, when our people first
evolved, we had round eyes. Just like yours.”

He stared at her. Round eyes just like ours?
Could they have originated from humans, these manesa?

Sayvu fluttered her eyelashes, embarrassed.
“It is a legend but my father thinks it may have a germ of truth.
That our founders were brought here and settled, then as time went
by the four classes broke apart from each other and became locked
as they are. And by then our eyes had changed. But you see, if at
one time we were equal, then there is no reason for the Mirka to
rule.”

“Well, I expect you’re right.”

“My father would be anxious to meet you. It
is a pity.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “If I could arrange
a ship to get you away…” She stood, suddenly brisk. “That’s enough
for tonight.”

He returned to his cell, deep in thought.
Chance just might be offering him an opportunity. He had hoped,
back there on
Curlew
, to
develop a partnership with Selwood. With her to help him, what
couldn’t he achieve? No bank, no casino would be able to stop her.
He could be rich beyond his wildest dreams. She hadn’t been
interested then. He hadn’t even been able to get her to bed, but
now things were different. No doubt about it, Selwood’s skills were
a saleable commodity. And he was nothing if not a
salesman.

****

Several more late meetings later Jones felt
he knew Sayvu well enough. “You know, Selwood could pilot a ship,”
he said.

A flick of an eyebrow. “One of our ships?
How?”

He leaned toward her, conspiratorial,
smiling. “Indra, my dear, Selwood could fly
this
ship. On her own.”

Her eyes widened. “
Vidhvansaka
? A battle cruiser? No. That’s not
possible.”

“Yes, it is. She’s a very special human, a
Bio-engineered Intelligence. She was modified when she was a baby.
They put those processors in her head and gave her artificial eyes.
That’s why they’re silver.”

“But… why?”

“So that she can run computers with her mind.
I don’t know how; just that she can enter your machines through the
sensors or any other data connection. That’s part of the reason why
she learnt your language so fast. Remember you said she knew words
you hadn’t remembered teaching her?” A sharp nod. “She went through
the sensors and learnt extra on her own.”

“Yes. But I still don’t understand. If she
can do that, why can’t you?”

“I don’t have those processors. Mine just
hold things like bank information, ID, medical history.”

She frowned.

“Look, not many people are suited to the
modification Selwood had. And what people like her do in our
society, is build all our technology. They’re the only ones who can
make changes. Even things like the processor in my head.” He
touched the lump behind his ear.

Sayvu looked at him and then at the floor.
“That’s… amazing. And no-one here knows this?”

“No. Only you.”

****

Jones poured himself a mug of
charb
, the local
bitter brew. The spicy smell drifted through the room; Selwood
wrinkled her nose but he’d become a bit more accustomed to the
stuff. It was better than always drinking water. The guards stood
in their usual places against the wall and Sayvu had organized to
be a few minutes late. It had taken him three days to convince her,
now all he had to do was convince Selwood. He’d better hurry
up.

He sat down next to her at the table, their
backs to the guards. “How’s it going, Selwood? Have you found out
where we are and how to get home?”

She shook her head. “The star charts give me
no clues. A barred spiral galaxy is a barred spiral galaxy. I can’t
establish a point of reference and without that…” She shrugged.
“I’m running out of ideas. I really don’t know where home is, so
it’s pointless escaping. But I’m getting very sick of being kept in
a cell and treated like a criminal. I’m thinking of fessing up and
seeing what happens.”

His heart jolted. “What? Tell them what you
can do?”

She shrugged again. “It might get me out of a
cell.”

Yes, it might. And he would lose his big
opportunity with Sayvu’s people. “It might buy you even bigger
trouble. A cell without sensors, a visit to the university
professors. They’ll do experiments on you.”

Her lip twisted. “Erk.”

He put the mug down, twirled it between his
fingers, careful to look casual. “Maybe there’s an
alternative.”

She skewered him with those mercury eyes.
“What?”

“I’ve been getting to know Sayvu over the
last few evenings. Extra lessons.”

A snort. “Oh, yes.”

“
She belongs to a group called
Bunyada.
Rich merchant types who don’t
get on with the military. They’re freedom fighters, working to
throw off the Mirka rule. She can get us a ship if you can fly it.
We can go and join her father. He’s a very wealthy man.”

Selwood turned those disconcerting eyes on
him. “You believe her?”

“Yes.”

“
I don’t know.” She pulled a face. “It
sounds a bit… I’ve seen news items about terrorists called
Bunyada
, not
freedom fighters.”

“
One man’s terrorist is another man’s
freedom fighter. She’s shown me news footage and explained how it
was distorted to blame
Bunyada
. Look, if you get out of here, you’ll be able to make your
own choices. With skills like yours, you’ll get on wherever you
are. Indra’s promised wealth and comfort. And daddy’s got the
wherewithal to make it happen. Then you’ll have time to work out
where home is.”

“When?” she asked, rubbing her brow with her
fingers.

“All you have to do is say yes and they’ll
finalize a plan. In two days’ time we get out of isolation. Then we
go into detention and she’s heard we’ll be shipped off to their
capital not long after that. No doubt to the professors, who’ll do
experiments on us.”

She scowled. “Okay. Find out what sort of
ship I’m supposed to fly.

Chapter
Six

Morgan rolled off the bunk wishing she’d had
a little more sleep. Nerves buzzed like a swarm of wasps in her
stomach. Routine; she had to make it all look routine. She dressed
in the prison fatigues they’d given her, bright red pants and
shirt, and hoped Sayvu would be able to pull this off. She’d give a
lot just to be able to wear some decent clothes.

Her escort arrived to take her to the exit
from the detention block. She waited, gaze fixed on the floor,
inside the closed door. It wouldn’t be opened until Sayvu appeared.
Footfalls approached from within the prison, heavy boots and a
softer tread. Jones plus escort. She didn’t even look at him.

A click and the clatter of turning wheels as
the doors slid apart. Sayvu waited outside, erect and unsmiling.
“Come.”

Morgan and Jones followed her, their two
troopers a few steps behind. They all crowded into a transit car
and went up two levels. From there, they walked down a wide
corridor and into a warehouse.

“Lieutenant, why…” one of the guards said.
The words trailed away. He started to lift his hand to his neck,
where a needle-thin dart protruded. His eyes rolled back and he
collapsed to the floor beside his colleague.

A man wearing a grey uniform stepped forward,
grasped one of the fallen troopers’ shoulders and dragged him away
between the rows of shelving. Sayvu did the same with the second
man. Morgan glanced around her. Food supplies. Stacks and stacks of
non-perishables, piled to the roof.

The man reappeared. She noticed the rank
insignia on his sleeve, three squares and a star. A senior NCO.

“Quickly. Get in here.” He gestured at one of
three rectangular containers, its lid tilted back, on a tray
attached to a supply vehicle.

She clambered up. It stank of rotting
organics and a layer of black gunge coated the base. Yuck.

“Hurry,” urged the NCO. “It’s only for a
short time.”

Morgan pulled a face. Well, it made sense,
she supposed. Who’d willingly investigate waste matter being
shipped planetside? She lowered herself onto the damp mess and sat,
knees to her chest while he sealed down the top. The stench filled
her lungs; she suppressed the gag reflex. It wouldn’t be for long.
She hoped. If this didn’t work… But then, why shouldn’t it? The
fleet was in orbit around a planet. A supply run between planet and
ship—quite normal.

The container lurched and swayed. A short
ride, a halt. Muffled voices. She adjusted her audio-receptors so
she could hear.

“Waste material transfer. Would you care to
check?” That was the senior NCO.

“Uh, no, Sergeant. I’ll take your word.” And
that would be the person at the gate.

The container lurched again. She wriggled her
buttocks. There wasn’t much worse than damp pants. The muck was
cold, too.