Rules of Conflict (21 page)

The realization settled over her gradually, like the slow-motion
buckling and flattening of a sailchute after a landing.
They’re letting me
off the hook.
She licked her dry lips, swallowed.
I killed Rikart
Neumann, and they don’t care.

I wonder why?

Jani felt a slight tingle, the mild frisson of the shock not
completely unexpected. She used to feel it back at Rauta Shèràa Base, when
she’d show up for an audit. The catch in a voice. The sidelong glance. The
sense that things were going on that other people didn’t want her to know
about.

I’m being diddled.
She sat back and clasped her hands over
her still-sore stomach. It didn’t do to get excited—a person could miss things
if she let herself get carried away.

Eyes and Ears open—that was always the key.

Friesian rose, walked to the wall opposite, and thumbed through
the tacked-up notices on a message board. “By the way, I received a packet in
the interdepartmental mails from a Lieutenant Yance in SIB Archives. It
contained missing portions of your ServRec. He noted in his cover memo that he
had sent copies to you, as well. At your request.” He walked back and stood in
front of her. “What were you doing at the SIB?”

Jani grew conscious of a disquieting sensation. A flashback to her
teen years, and her papa standing before her. Same stance as Friesian. Same
probing glare. “Just looking around,” she replied softly. A voice caught out
past curfew.

“Just looking around?” Friesian rubbed his face. He suffered the
curse of the dark-haired and pale—only midmorning, and he already looked like
he needed a shave. “The next time you feel an overwhelming urge to stick your
nose where it doesn’t belong, call me.”

“I have the right to find out what happened to my ServRec.”

“No. You have the right to come to me, and say, ‘I wonder what
happened to my ServRec.’ To which I would reply, ‘Why do you believe it’s
applicable to your case?’ And if I liked your answer, I would contract with a
registered legal investigator and have them look into it, so that if something
did turn up, it would have been uncovered properly and we will have had a
chance to deal with it. Your case is still open, Jani, and that means the rules
of discovery are in force. Everything we find, the prosecution gets to see and
vice versa. That being the situation, it really isn’t advisable to turn over
every rock you find just to see what crawls out!” He covered his face with his
hands. “Damn it! You’re a documents examiner. You of all people should know
better.”

Jani folded her arms. The chair rocked some more, but it didn’t
upset her stomach as much. She felt stronger. “If it’s the truth, why bury it?”

“So that we don’t wind up uncovering a mess we can’t deal with!”

“You mean you don’t want to know what you don’t know.” Jani cocked
her head to look him in the eye. “All those things you’ve heard about me. It’s
starting to occur to you that they might be true, isn’t it?”

“Not related to this case. Therefore, not my concern.” Friesian
flexed his neck again and returned to his seat. “I don’t think Pimentel would
be very happy with me right now. That’s the end of legal talk until you get out
of here.”

Jani picked up her fruit sludge and stirred the melted remains,
just to have something to do with her hands. The repetitive motion helped her
think. “Sometimes you walk around a big place like Sheridan, you keep seeing
the same faces. Makes the place seem smaller somehow.”

Friesian rocked his head back and forth in a “so-so” nod. “They
probably live or work in this area of the base. Makes sense they’d crop up
regularly.”

“Hmm.” Jani gave the spoon another turn. “There’s this one guy
who’s popped up a few times. Full colonel. Nasty facial scar.”

“Oh, him.” Friesian frowned. “Niall Pierce. Special Services.”

“What, is he famous or something?”

“No. He’s just the A-G’s right hand.” The frown turned to a
grimace of concern. “You haven’t made yourself known to him in any way that I
should know about, have you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No, of course you don’t.” Friesian clasped his hands and slowly
twiddled his thumbs. “You remember what Spec Service is?”

“They’re the hatchet team.”

“No, they provide special assistance and advice to the commander
on technical matters and other O-three situations.”

“Out of the ordinary?”

“You remember that? That is reassuring.”

“I remember lots of things.” Jani grabbed a handful of pajama
trouser and hoisted, right leg over left. “That’s a pretty wide gulf between
the A-G and a colonel in Spec Service. What’s the deal with Mako and Pierce,
they marry sisters or something?”

“Better than that.” Friesian eyed her thoughtfully. “They served
together on the CSS
Kensington.
”

“Really? The
Kensington
flagshipped the evac of Rauta
Shèràa’s human enclave.”

“Yes, it did. Mako was her captain. Sergeant Pierce played an
integral role in the ground assault.”

“
Sergeant
Pierce?”

Friesian nodded. “Yeah, that man earned himself a field
commission. For that matter, all the members of the
Kensington
crew have
done well over the years. Dr. General Carvalla was Medical Officer. General
Gleick, the Sheridan base commander, was Mako’s exec. Aliens, anarchy, hostile
fire, a threat to the Commonwealth—that evac had it all. Even the hot water
they got into after they returned to Earth added to the aura.”

Jani uncrossed and recrossed her legs, worked her neck, did her
best to seem only mildly interested. “Did they botch the evac?”

“No, nothing that serious. They mishandled some remains. Problem
was that the remains belonged to Family members. Mako had to testify at a Board
of Inquiry about what happened. He knew a witch-hunt when he saw one, and went
on the offensive. Named names with regard to some of the garbage that went on
at Rauta Shèràa. Rumor has it that those records will remain sealed for two
hundred years.” He looked at Jani, and stood.

“That’s it. You look beat, and I don’t want Pimentel coming after
me with a bone cutter.” He looked at her with kinder eyes, and smiled. “This is
going to work out for you. You just need to get your strength back, listen to
your doctor, and stay away from the SIB.” The courtroom light flared.
“Promise?”

Jani nodded. “Whose remains?”

Friesian sighed. “Oh, no one important. Just the members of Rauta
Shèràa Base Command who died during the evac. You probably knew them—Ebben,
Unser, and Fitzhugh.”

What do you know—those three bastards didn’t make it offworld
alive.
“Think they died accidentally or on purpose?”

“Not your problem. Do you promise?”

Jani nodded in the here and now as, meanwhile, a part of her
returned home to Ville Acadie. Her father had meted out her punishment, and
explained to her that it was for her own good. And that part of her sat on the
couch, head hung low, and murmured agreement as she planned her next escapade.
Mais
oui, Papa.
“Promise.”

Pimentel fingered his workstation touchpad once. Twice.
“The augmentation scan does show some low-level stimulation in the regions
around your primary insert.” He spun the desk display so Jani could see it.
“See.” He pointed at a multicolored blob that pulsed in the lower middle area
of the translucent overlay of her brain. “We’re seeing moderate hyperactivity
in your thalamus and in the area of the insert nearest to your amygdala. Now,
your tendency toward vivid dreaming is indicated by your elevated Dobriej
values”—he tapped a row of numbers that scrolled along the top of the
display—“and combining that with the excitation in your limbic system and
diencephalon—”

“
Roger!
”

“Fight or flight and sensory areas,” he said, switching to
lay-speak without missing a beat. “Memory.” He snatched a dispo out of a box on
his desk and wiped a smudge from the surface of the display. “I don’t think I’m
telling you things you don’t already know. You’re one of those augments who
tends to hallucinate under stress. The porphyria may be aggravating this
tendency. The usual monitoring we perform may need to be stepped up in your
case.” He shredded a corner of the dispo.

Jani thought back to Pierce’s post-takedown expression. The
bewilderment. The desolation.
Is that what you’re offering me, Roger?
“What do you recommend?”

Pimentel shrugged. “Well, my first suggestion is always to remove
the augmentation. Your records show you were a borderline case. We have ample
justification.” He rested his elbow on his desk and tapped a finger along his
jaw. “Of course, even the most challenged augment is reluctant to give up the
benefits. I don’t believe I need to explain those to you.”

“No.” Augie had saved Jani’s life too many times for her to give
him up now.
Like most men, you’re trouble, but I still think I’ll keep you.
“Next option.”

“Hmm.” Pimentel’s jaw-tapping slowed. “We’d be entering to
experimental areas.”

“Roger, my entire adult medical history has been an experimental
area.”

Pimentel gave a snort of laughter. “Quite.” The tapping stopped.
“I’d like to try to take you back.”

“Take me back where?”

“To what you were before Shroud got his hands on you. I’ve been consulting
with some researchers in our Gene Therapeutics lab. To say they’re itching to
get their hands on you doesn’t do their enthusiasm justice.” He smiled like he
had a present for her hidden in his pocket. “I’d like to try to make you human
again. One hundred percent.”

Jani pulled her robe closer around her and looked past Pimentel to
the sunlit scene outside his window. She longed to sit in the dry heat and let
it bake her to the bone.
Always cold . . . always sick.
And what if she developed a bacterial infection and the bug did things to her
that it wouldn’t do to someone normal? Someone human?

I’m one of a kind.
And a damned lonely one, at that.

Nema will be devastated.
But then, he wasn’t the one
passing out on the bathroom floor, was he?

She wouldn’t have even considered the option if Friesian hadn’t
told her about the deal. Odd feeling, having a future to worry about again.

What do you want to be when you grow up, Jani Moragh?
To be
left alone. And the best way to guarantee that was to be like everyone else. “I
think I’d like to give it a try.” She shoved her hands into her sleeves to try
to warm them.

“It won’t be pleasant.”

“I’m used to that.”

“I know.” Pimentel tapped an entry into his workstation. “Like I
said, I’d be turning you over to the Gene Therapeutics group. I wouldn’t even
think of treating you myself. I know my limitations, unlike some.” He eyed her
sharply. “I’d like to wait until you get this legal mess behind you. Piers
feels it may be wrapped up in a week or two. I’ll set up the first appointment
for you for month’s end.”

“Fine.” Jani tried to scoot out of the visitor’s chair, a task
made more difficult since she didn’t want to remove her chilled hands from her
sleeves. “Can I leave?”

“Hang around for another hour and make an appointment to come in
tomorrow for a follow-up. Then you can go.” Pimentel raised his hand. “There is
one more very small thing. Sam Duong.”

Jani sat back. “That man from the SIB. The archivist.”

“Yes.” Pimentel’s shoulders sagged as his bright mood evaporated.
“How well do you know him?”

“I don’t, really. I’d never met him before two days ago.”

“Never met him before.” Pimentel picked up his recording board and
entered a notation. “The reason I ask is, he has no relatives. Up until this
morning, he had no friends, either. None he’d admit to, anyway.” He massaged
the back of his neck. Talking about Sam Duong seemed to tighten him up. “He
authorized a change to his MedRec a few short hours ago. He named you as his
next of kin.”

“
What?
” Jani slumped in her chair—the ergoworks whined in
their effort to keep up. “Did he say why?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“I was there when he fainted. His supervisors were pulling missing
documents out of his desk and he was yelling that he hadn’t put them there . . . .”
Oh.
“And I told him I believed
him.”

Pimentel knocked the back of his head against the headrest of his
chair. “Jani, why did you tell him that?”

“Because I didn’t like what was happening. His supervisors were
taking him apart in front of his coworkers, which you do
not
do, I’m
sorry, and he was in a state. I tried to calm him down.” Pierce’s face appeared
in her mind again. Mako’s right hand. “Thinking back, I don’t consider it
outside the realm of possibility that Sam Duong was framed.”

“Framed?” Pimentel’s massaging action moved to his forehead.
“Jani, if you knew his medical condition, I think you’d change your mind.”