Rules of Conflict (2 page)

Jani hesitated. Then she walked, a little unsteadily, into Val’s
embrace. He enclosed her lightly, as though she might break. She squeezed back
harder. He wore a crisp linen day-suit in light green; the stiff material
crackled in her grasp like leaves.

“If you’re trying to wring the years out of me, you’re too late.”
He pulled back so he could look her in the face. His eyes glistened. “You look
lovely. My one and only girl.” He tugged at one of her short, black curls, then
ran a fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “That’s held up well, I must say.”

Jani batted his hand away. “Social climber. You gave me a Family
face. Damned bones you could sharpen blades on.”

“Bullshit. I passed on the Parini countenance in the only way I
cared to.”

They grinned idiotically at one another. Then Jani sensed her
instincts firing warning shots, and her smile faded. “How did you know I was
here?”

Val sighed. “So much for sweet reminiscence.” He frowned as Jani
extricated herself from his arms. “Well, what can I say, except that there’s
nothing loyal employees and money can’t accomplish. We have spies in every
colonial city with a decent port—our Felician contact spotted you soon after
you arrived. When you didn’t depart immediately for a more out-of-the-way
refuge, John started to worry. We decided I should come. John feared you’d bolt
if you saw him.”

“Did he?”

“Well, maybe I needed to convince him. Sit on him. Threaten him a
little.” Val crossed his arms and dropped his chin—his skeptical pose. “So?”

Jani shrugged. “I spent all my cash on gear. I needed to earn a
berth.” She wavered beneath his stare, weighty with paternal gruff. “And I
haven’t felt good for months.”

“That’s what John was afraid of.” Val fingered the collar of her
white trouser suit. “That’s very pretty.
Très Felicienne
. You’ve got
five seconds to peel out of it. We have work to do.”

First came bloodwork, followed by a series of intrusive swabbings
and scopings Jani could have done without, thank you. Then came an upper GI
scan facilitated by her swallowing of a biodegradable, capsule-sized camera,
and completed in spite of Val’s insistence that she stand beside him at the
display receiver and watch the full-color, three-dimensional workings of her
digestive tract. Her equally adamant reply that he’d find himself
wearing
the camera if she did as he asked put a stop to his goading.

“Last part.” Val rolled a stress screen the size of a full-length
mirror into the center of the room. “Let’s see how those new limbs of yours are
doing. Off with the medgown. Get behind the screen. Stand up straight. Move
only when I tell you to.”

Jani stripped off the tissuelike gown and stepped behind the dull,
milky screen. It brightened to translucent glass and emitted a barely
perceptible hum.

She looked down at her left arm, then her left leg. No longer numb
limbs driven by half-formed nervenets, but fully functional animandroid, the
best Neoclona could produce. Replaced almost six months ago, during her first
ever visit to Earth.

“Jani, atten-
hut
!”

She snapped to attention, chin up, shoulders back. The screen
mirrored her image; she avoided looking at her face. Her light brown skin held
up well under the room’s chemillumination. Her legs didn’t look too bad.

But, as always, her eyes drew her in. They looked like two black
holes staring back from the screen surface. She didn’t like using that filming.
It was the same brand holoVee actors used, formulated to show up well in the
imaging, and less likely to fissure than commercial brands. But it was too dark
for real life. People were starting to comment.

Bet they’d shut up if I let them see what was underneath
.

“At ease, Captain. Your whole thorax has gone red.
Relax
.”

Jani took a deep breath and thought about white, puffy clouds.
“Can I talk?”

“Yeah. Just don’t gesture.”

“How do I look?”

“All greens and blues—a veritable study in symmetry and stress
distribution. The new limbs are fine, of course, but the old musculature has
held up very well. We really did an exceptional job on you. I don’t believe
we’ve ever topped it.”

“Well, you boys always worked best under pressure.” Jani’s hands
clenched, and she thought about clouds again. “Trying to patch me together
while holding off the Admiral-General’s office and the Consulate—can’t imagine
much more pressure than that.”

“Turn ninety degrees to your right, please.” At first, it seemed
Val would ignore further mention of their shared past. Then he cleared his
throat. “The difficult part was justifying the supplies we ordered. Most of the
Consulate staff had been evac’d out of Rauta Shèràa by then, and the ones that
remained weren’t sustaining the types of injuries to justify the materials we shipped
in. It reached the point where I became a daily visitor to the Service
Intelligence annex.” He chuckled warmly. “Guess that’s where I developed my
legendary powers of persuasion. Turn your back to me, please.”

Jani turned. “The Vynshà had taken the perimeter settlements by
then. All they’d left to do was declare themselves ‘rau’ and send their Haárin
advance troops into Rauta Shèràa to prepare the way. The Family members who’d
supported the Laum were scrambling to realign themselves. Some pretty formidable
names feared for their lives. You’d think Intelligence would have had their
hands full getting them out of Rauta Shèràa alive.”

Val sighed. “Yes, the Vynshà were exhibiting remarkably human
vindictiveness, weren’t they? I think Intelligence was concerned John, Eamon,
and I were on the same short list. We were bad boys, remember? Turn ninety
degrees, please.”

Jani rotated slowly. The rough sensapad on which she stood made
the soles of her feet itch. “Did you really think they’d have killed you?” She tried
to shift her footing, but stopped when she heard Val grumble. “Nema considered
the three of you esteemed enemies. A chief propitiator’s regard should have
been enough to save you.”

Val huffed. “We had traveled pretty far into the land of forbidden
knowledge by then. Besides, Nema was on his Temple’s fecal roster. His regard
and a vend token wouldn’t have bought us a cup of coffee.” A series of clicks
sounded as he downloaded the screen data into the recorder. “All done. You can
come out now.”

Jani eased from behind the screen and reached to the floor for the
crumpled medgown. The chill tile helped ease the burning on the bottoms of her
feet, but before she could examine the damage, Val called to her.

“Let’s have a look at those sweet baby jades of yours,” he said as
he wheeled the screen against the wall. “Strip off those eyefilms.”

“My eyefilms?” Jani backed against the sinkstand. Her ankles
prickled. She stifled a cough.

“What’s the matter with you?” Val took a step closer. “What’s
wrong?”

Jani coughed again as her lungs filled with scancrete. “Can’t
breathe. My feet—” She slumped against the sinkstand. Black patches grew and
faded before her eyes.

Val rushed to her. He knelt down, grasped her ankle, and snatched
a glance at the bottom of her foot. Then he looked back at the sensapad. “Damn
it! Damn it, damn it,
damn it
!” He hurried to the pad platform, tore the
thin polymer film from its metal base, rolled it into a tight tube, and shoved
it under his jacket and into the waistband of his trousers. Then he rushed to
the door, pushing through the gap before it opened completely. “
I need a
shockpack!
”

He returned, dragging an equipment-laden skimcart; white coats
streamed in after him like a flood of milk. Two of them lifted Jani onto the
scanbed while Tellinn clipped a monitor relay to her ear. “Hurry the hell up,
Val,” he snapped. “Her oxygen saturation’s dropping like a rock.”

Prodded with probes, raked over by scanners, Jani watched the
frantic bustle with growing disinterest. Her world had become one of deadened
emotion, blurring color, choppy sound and motion. Out of the corner of her eye,
she saw Val work over her right arm, then felt the pinch of an injector. The
heaviness in her chest eased, and she inhaled with a wheezy rattle.

“Blood pressure’s up. A hundred over fifty-five.” The source of
the announcement, a silver-haired woman with CHIEF OF STAFF etched into her ID
badge fixed Val with a glare. “What happened, Parini?”

Val’s eyes locked with Jani’s.
They know, Jan
, they said,
as the once-glib mouth worked soundlessly. Sweat trickled down the face he’d
copied for her, in a basement lab outside a war-torn alien city, when he and
John and Eamon had learned enough about her to realize rebuilding her old one
wasn’t an option.

They know you’re here
.

“Here, drink this.” Val refilled the cup and pushed it
over to Jani’s side of the table. “Now, while it’s hot.”

Jani eyed the black, foamy brew with distaste. John’s coffee had
always tasted like a gift from the gods. Val’s, on the other hand . . . .
“Don’t you think three cups are
enough?” She belched quietly. “My stomach’s going to go critical any second.”
She gazed longingly across the table at his iced lemonade. “I think we can ease
up on the caffeine—my breathing’s fine.”

Val had returned to the bar, set in a sunken alcove in the middle
of his spacious hotel room, and continued to rummage through coolers and
cupboards. “Just keep drinking—you’re not out of the woods yet. Damn it, I
injected you with enough adrenosol to punch a resistant male one and a half
times your weight through the ceiling, and it
just
brought your blood
pressure up into low-normal. I couldn’t risk giving you more, not with all
those expert witnesses around.” He slammed the cabinet door.

“I got enough of the fish-eye as it was. ‘Wasn’t that dose a tad
high
,
Val? What were you
doing
to her, anyway?’ They know the story of the
patient we patched together on Shèrá, and not all of them approved of our
methods. I swear they all think I was experimenting on you, and it backfired.
You’d think that damned augmentation of yours could have helped you out.”

“You know Service augies only work in threatening situations.”
Jani fingered the tiny round scar on the back of her neck where skull met
spine. The large bore canula of a stereotaxic headset had punched a hole there
over twenty years ago, then injected the self-assembling components of her
little passenger. “Discharge a shooter across my bow, I can get as frosty and
functional as you please.” Only then would the tiny glands adjacent to her
amygdala release their reservoirs of pseudocatecholamines. Sharpen her wits.
Ease her panic. Dull her pain.

But if I’m not pissed off or scared senseless, I’m on my own
.
She pulled in a deep, wheezing breath, and choked down another sip of coffee.
“So what happened?” Her stomach gurgled ominously.

Val returned to the table, the results of his explorations
clutched in his hands. He piled all the stomach-settling food he could find,
dispos of crackers and peppermint candies, by Jani’s cup, then fell into the
chair across from her. “I’ve got the head of Security running scan searches and
background checks to see who the hell could have put the mat there. I’m not
optimistic. It was either a Service or Cabinet plant, and they’re probably
off-world by now.” He fumbled with a packet of crackers. “As for what was in
it, I won’t know for sure until I test it, and I can’t test it properly until I
get it home. Whatever it was, it had your number. You stood on it for no more
than ten minutes, and the soles of your feet look like someone went after them
with a strap.”

Jani winced. Her heavily salved feet, encased in thick, truecotton
booties, tingled with a maddening, itchy burn. The booties had been treated
with anti-irritants and healing accelerants, but they couldn’t work miracles.
Walking promised to be a real treat for the next few days.

Wherever I happen to be
. She checked her timepiece; six
hours had elapsed since her episode. Most of that time had been spent in the
office of Dr. Fanshul, the tart-tongued chief of staff, who had argued
vehemently that it was in Jani’s best interest to stay in the hospital
overnight for observation. Val had put an end to the debate, and blown his
cover in the process, by signing her out under his care. By the time all the
signatures were in place, half the facility knew something strange had happened
on the seventy-second floor involving one of the “Big Three” and a mysterious
“woman in white.”

“So?” Val laid claim to one of the peppermints. “Have I fucked up
your situation here sufficiently, or should I try for full-page adverts in
tomorrow morning’s newssheets?” He smiled broadly, his teeth and lips coated
bright blue by the candy.

Jani knew he wanted to coax a smile out of her. Under different
circumstances, it might have worked. “I have to get off-planet. Within the
hour.”

Val slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the
table. “My ship’s having some refit work done. It’ll be ready in two days. Let
me take you—”

“I can’t wait two days.”

“You better find a way. Face reality. You almost died. As things
stand now, I can hear you breathe across the room—that situation isn’t going to
change for days. And if you try to do much walking on those feet of yours, you
risk a nasty infection.”

“Can’t you give me something to see me through?”

Val’s expression grew pained. “Jan, I’m not sure how the drugs I
have on hand would affect you. As you learned to your detriment in Chicago,
your response to some common medications has become idiosyncratic.” He stared
moodily into his lemonade. “For all I know, there’s nothing wrong with that
sensapad. You may have simply developed a sensitivity to that particular
biopolymer, and damn it, if exposure to something like that is enough to knock
you for a loop, what else out there could affect you?”