Rules of Conflict (3 page)

“That’s not your problem.”

“
Monkey’s ass it’s not my problem! You
—” Val fell silent.
Jani could almost hear the click of a balance as he weighed his words. “Jan,
your body is going through some changes right now. We know why, but the how,
what, when, and where have us a little baffled.” He looked at the ceiling, into
the depths of his glass, everywhere but at her.

“Why can’t you say it, Val?” Jani took another sip of coffee, and
swallowed hard. “Eighteen years ago, you patched me together with tissue manufactured
from human and idomeni genetic material. You thought you’d deactivated most of
the idomeni genes, but you hadn’t. You thought you’d made it so I’d live for
two hundred years, but you didn’t stop to think what I might live
as
.”

Val blinked rapidly. “Jani,” he said, his voice cracking, “you’re
wrong.”

“I’m hybridizing. I’m not human anymore, but I’m not idomeni
either. I can eat Haárin spices that would blister the inside of your mouth,
but some of their herbs and nuts go through me like poison. I can’t drink human
tea anymore. I can barely choke down anything sweet, but I can peel a lemon and
eat it like you would an orange.” Jani heard the tremor in her voice. When she
tallied up the small things—that was when it scared her. “Nema was right. He
said this would happen, that no matter how you tried to stop it, I would
continue to change.”

“Jani, Nema is a religious fanatic with an agenda as long as my
arm. Let’s leave your medical care to experts, shall we?”

“And which experts would those be, Val? The ones who got me into
this mess in the first place?”

Val flinched as though she’d slapped him. The room lighting
accentuated the lines near his mouth, signs of age Jani couldn’t find around
her own no matter how hard she looked. “Jani, we did the best we could for
you.”

“That you did, Val, that you did. Thanks to you, I have eyes that
look like two corroded copper discs and eating habits that make people stare. I
york my guts a couple times a week, and between the nausea and the shivery
shakes, my every day is a joy. And let’s not forget that this condition of mine
has reinforced Nema’s grand theory that I’m his heir apparent, which gives him
the right to take charge of the rest of my life if I ever let him get his hands
on me, which I don’t believe I will, thank you!” She glared at the stricken
man. “I’ve had time to think these past few months. Way too much time. I hate
being this way and I didn’t have a choice. And now that the Service and the
Commonwealth government know I’m alive, all they have to do is follow the
trail. I’m a goddamn walking disaster siren!”

“Jani, we—” Val’s voice cracked. “Do you hate us that much?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No.” He sniffed. Cleared his throat. “You need more in-depth
assessment than I can give you here. Come back with me to Seattle. You and I
always got along, and Eamon isn’t around much these days.” He hesitated. “And
whatever you think of John, he would like very much to see you.”

Bits of memory flitted through Jani’s mind. Some were more vivid
than others. “Does he still play the violin?”

“Yes.” Val’s voice lifted hopefully. “You’d enjoy listening to him
now—he’s gotten rather good.”

“Just the three of us basking in one another’s company and
listening to John fiddle. That sounds familiar.” Jani looked out the tableside
window. Fifty floors below, early-evening skimmer traffic crammed Felix
Majora’s main thoroughfare. Above the nearby mountains, barely visible through
an artificial forest of scancrete and glass, the setting sun glowed like a weld
spot. “You and John live in a dream world. Eamon would know better. He wouldn’t
be able to shove me out the door fast enough.” A cramp shot through her
abdomen. She tore open a packet of crackers and forced them down.

“Jan, we can keep you safe. No one will even suspect you’re
Earthside.”

“Really? Is Neoclona a sovereign state? I read the newssheets,
Val. I watch the ’Vee. Funny the stories that keep cropping up. Rehashes about
how human-idomeni relations took a dive after Knevçet Shèràa. Garbled rumor
about the death of Rikart Neumann. Portraits of Evan as the emotionally
battered son and lover. Can’t you see what’s happening? His attorneys are
scrambling for a defense, and I’m it.”

“Jani, he gave the order to have your transport blown out of the
sky to cover up his involvement in Knevçet Shèràa. Nobody’s that good a
scrambler.”

“Oh yeah? Has he been formally charged?”

“John knows he’s guilty. He told me—”

“Has Evan been formally charged?” Jani nodded as the uncertainty
flickered in Val’s eyes. “The term is
plea bargain
. He’s telling the
Service all about me. I won’t even need a trial—they’d just shoot me at
O’Hare.”

“We have influence.”

“Val, I killed Neumann. My commanding officer. The first N in
NUVA-SCAN. The Families are closing rank.” She stood and headed for the door.
“Your influence and a vend token.” She took one step. Two. Before she could
take a third, popping sensations worked across both soles, followed by stinging
wetness, then raw agony as though she skated over metal blades.

Jani didn’t feel herself fall; she only knew she was on the floor.
As pain radiated up her legs and she gasped for breath, she felt a hand close
over her shoulder.

“You’re not running out on us, Jan,” Val said gently. “Not this
time. And when you finally do go somewhere, it’s going to be with me.”

In the end, they compromised.

“I don’t like this one damn bit.” Val snaked the Neoclona staff
skimmer down one of Felix Majora’s less-traveled side streets. The sleek,
silver two-seater didn’t meet Jani’s standards as a getaway vehicle. It drew
the eye like a stone skipping over water. Pedestrians stopped to stare as it
passed.

At least it wasn’t purple.

“You have to keep your date with Hugh,” she said. “He can tell you
what they’re saying about us in the staff room.”

Val checked a street sign, compared it to the name on his
directional screen, and frowned. “He’s not like that. No matter his feelings,
he’s always kept his own counsel.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can work around his better judgment. Use your
legendary powers of persuasion.” Jani watched out her window as large
commercial buildings gave way to the smaller residential structures of the
city’s mountain side. It took her some time to realize Val hadn’t spoken; she
turned to find him eyeing her with ill-concealed discomfort.

“I don’t like playing the tart while you’re running loose doing
God knows what.”

“Staying put in my apartment. Packing.”

“Packing. Right.” Val pointed to the directional’s touchpad. “I
like Hugh. The idea of working him repulses me.”

“Considering your performance this afternoon, I find that
difficult to believe.”

“That was
fun
!” Val sighed. “Would’ve been fun. This is
different. There’s too much at stake, and I don’t know what the hell I’m
doing.”

“Just find out what they’re saying about us. If Hugh asks about
me, bring up the massive clinical study you’re planning. Tell him you want to
base it in a colonial facility for a change. Mention it will need a director.
Throw in that famous smile, and you’ll be in like a greased weasel.” Val
shifted uneasily, and Jani forced a grin. “Look, if it’s any consolation, I’ve
done the tart thing once or twice. If
I
can do it, you’re a lock.”

Val stopped at an intersection and glanced at the directional.
“You say left, it says right.”

“Take a left.”

He shrugged and turned left. “Sometimes, at the end of the day,
when we’ve worked to the point of exhaustion and all our internal safeguards
have burnt out, John and I will uncork a bottle of wine and talk. About you.
Where you could be living, what you could be doing. John does most of the
talking.” He glanced at Jani sidelong. “I don’t think I’ll repeat this
conversation to him anytime soon.”

They turned another corner. The sudden brightness of the
streetlights hit Jani full in the face. She closed her eyes against the
battering glare; they watered anyway. “Fuck you,” she said. “Stop here. I’m
getting out.”

“What!” Val jerked the wheel in surprise, sending the skimmer over
the curb boundary and up onto the sidewalk. The vehicle’s proximity alarms
blatted as he tried to regain control from the autonav, which fought to turn
the skimmer in the opposite direction. By the time he maneuvered into an idling
slot near a small playground, residents from nearby buildings had gathered in
windows and doorways to watch. Scattered applause sounded as the vehicle
shuddered to a stop.

Jani watched a woman across the street point at the skimmer and
laugh. “You have a future in this business, I can tell.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Val glared at their surroundings. Much of the
playground equipment had been dismantled, lighting was intermittent at best,
and several less-polished-looking skimmers had already veered by for a look at
the spiff new visitor. “I’ll be damned if I’m letting you out here—this place
is a dump!” He pointed to the directional touchpad. “I don’t know why you told
me to bring you here, anyway—the address code on Shane Averill’s MedRec says—”

Jani popped open her door, but Val dragged her back inside the
skimmer before she could flee. His grip on her animandroid upper arm made her
gasp—he knew just where to grab and how hard to squeeze. “Shane Averill was a
one-shot, wasn’t it? Something you patched together to get through the visit to
Neoclona? You don’t work at Felix Cruiseways, and you don’t live at the address
in your file!” He struggled to pull the door closed with his free hand. “We’re
supposed to meet tomorrow morning at your apartment, Jani. Now how the hell are
we supposed to do that when I don’t know where you live!”

Jani tried to wedge her right leg through the shrinking gap
between door and seal. “I’ll meet you at your hotel.”

“You said you didn’t want to go back there anymore. You said it
was too risky.” Val swore as Jani wriggled halfway out of the skimmer. He tried
to drag her back into the cabin without releasing his grip on the door pull, but
before he could set himself, the gullwing flew upward, pulling him headlong
across Jani’s lap before finally wrenching free.

Hot, dry night spilled into the cabin.

“Hey,
lindo
,
que pa
?” A wiry Feliciano, bare to the
waist and sporting a half-shaved head, stood in the gaping entry. He leaned
forward while still holding on to the door pull; the stretched pose accentuated
his thin waist and bony chest. “What’s wrong, pretty man with the pretty skim,
you don’t get your money’s worth?” He leered at Jani. “Hard girl like this
don’t earn her pay?” He rapped the door sharply, and shapes moved into the
range of the skimmer headlights. Four of them. “Maybe we give you both your
money’s worth.”

Jani eased her other knee from beneath Val’s body. “When I bolt,
you floor it and go.”

“Oh shit, Jan, don’t—”

Jani kicked out. Before she’d left Val’s hotel room, she’d
supplemented her booties with three pairs of his socks and a pair of his hiking
boots. Her padded and armored feet connected perfectly with Shaved-head’s solar
plexus; he dropped to the ground. She scrambled out of the cabin and over his
gasping form, pounding off in the direction opposite his cohorts before any of
them could react. After a few strides, she heard the gratifying whine of an
accelerating skimmer, followed by the much-less-welcome sound of pursuing
footsteps. She tried to pick up her pace, but her feet burned as though she ran
through flame. Her chest ached. Her legs turned to cement.

Behind her, the pounding grew louder.

Then, like a bracing wave breaking over her, an old friend dropped
by to pay Jani his respects. Her feet numbed. Her lungs cleared. Muzzy
perception crystallized. The ovenlike night air parted before her, then closed
behind, buoying her along. She pelted down a side street and through an alley,
aware as a cat of the fading noises behind her. The thought that she’d been
sick a few hours before and should slow down flitted through the cold white
that had become her mind, but she shook it off. Fatigue was for other people.
She could surf this way for hours. And maybe she would, just for the sheer
animal joy of it.

Hello augie—about damn time
.

Through every cell in her body, Jani’s augmentation whispered his
regards.

But her Service-implanted bootstraps could only take her so far.
As she slowed to a trot, Jani felt the first tendrils of panic push through her
calm. The neurochemical rush that had eased her pain and opened her lungs
slowed to a sputter. Augie worked best and longest for intact soldiers at the
top of their game, not for half-animandroid never-weres just released from the
hospital.

Jani eased to a walk, in part to conserve her flagging strength,
but mainly because she’d entered a section of Felix Majora where a running
woman would attract attention. Office towers and manufacturing facilities
loomed on either side as she headed down a wide, well-kept alley. When she
reached an entry next to a small loading dock, she knocked twice, then sagged
against the doorframe and pressed her hot, wet face against cool, dry metal.