Read Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 Online
Authors: Evil Triumphant
Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 03 (33 page)
Jytte nodded wordlessly.
"You're making one big mistake, Jytte," I said softly. "A lack of evidence proves nothing. Yes, it could be that you were a chip-child bom to a rich family here in Phoenix or up in Flagstaff. And, it could be that when you vanished they raised no alarm about it. But the lack of evidence more strongly supports the
possibility that you are wrong, that you were not a chip-child, because a nonexistent chip-child would
leave just as much evidence as the child hidden away by a callous conspiracy."
"But if I go back, if 1
try
to remember, I might find the evidence I need to confirm my worst fears."
"What difference does that make?" I stood and started pacing. "Five months ago, 1 was an assassin in the employ of Fiddleback. My job, my avocation, was going places and killing people on command. Yet
when Coyote stripped my memory from me, I became what you see now. That is the key."
Turning, I pointed a finger straight at her. "What you
were
does not matter. What you have become is what is important. It does not matter if you were missed or not when Pygmalion took you. We need you
now. We value you now, both for the information you have
and
because of who you made yourself into.
You are a responsible and talented individual, and nothing that you could possibly leam about yourself
would change that."
Jytte gave me a quizzical grin that I did not understand until she explained. "I saw your lips moving, but I heard the other Coyote's words coming out of your mouth. You are
right. I am willing try to try to recover the information you want." She shifted in her chair and tucked her hair behind her left ear. "Rajani, I may need your help, if you are willing."
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The al
ien woman nodded her head. "I am honored by your trust. Yes, anything you need."
Jytte eased herself forward on the seat, then stood. "I think I can accomplish this better in my own rooms. I will be more comfortable there, and 1 have access to the types of graphic databases that I need to correlate things 1 remember with items in the real world."
I nodded. "If you need anything, let me know."
She reached into the pocket of her jumpsuit and handed me a folded slip of paper. "Perhaps you can figure this out while we determine where Pygmalion lairs when he's on Earth."
"What is it?"
"A list." Jytte smiled wanly as she and Rajani headed toward the suite's front door. "A list of files that Vetha has been accessing in our computer system—files that are not connected to what we are doing."
I unfolded the paper as the door closed behind the two women. The file names had been typed in a double row and could have been as simple as a list of people to be invited to a party:
Judas Iscariot Benedict Arnold
Brutus Adolf Hitler
Joe Valachi Kim Philby
Julius and Ethel Rosenberg Aaron Burr
Vidkun Quisling Alexander Haig Tycho Caine (DeepThroat)
I refolded it and tucked it into my pocket. Sinclair shot me a puzzled look. "What is it?"
"As Jytte said, it's a list. It reads like 'traitors-r-us' and has my name tacked on to the end of it." I folded my arms across my chest. "I don't like ft."
"What does it mean?" Sin asked.
"It means I'm going to have to talk with Vetha." I felt the world closing in on me. "ft means I have to find out if she's gathering information to figure me out, or if she's trying to send me a message."
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Vetha arrived in the Lorica Citadel a little over four hours after Jytte gave me the list of files, Crowley and Sinclair left to get sleep, but 1 used the time I had to call each of the files up on the computer in my suite and simply confirm what I knew from looking at the names. Each and every one of the individuals on the list had
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betrayed
an ally or master during the course of his or her career.
Finding myself included on the list did not surprise me at all when I knew Vetha had compiled it. I knew that Fiddleback viewed me as a traitor, but the feelings I had gotten from Vetha had never been strong nor
particularly malevolent. In fact, the nastiest thing she had done to me was to include me on this list.
Through the computer system, 1 sent her a message saying I wanted to speak with her. Within 15 minutes, she arrived via the private elevator from the executive visitor suites Lorica maintained for visiting officers from other companies. She looked exactly as 1 expected from when I last saw her, though the chitin on one arm
segment did seem creased. As Crowley had mentioned, she had been hurt; I assumed that was a scar.
The one thing that did surprise me about her arrival was the fact that she carried a board game with her. She set it
down on the coffee table in the sitting room, then bowed her head to me. "It is good to see you well, Coyote.
Your recovery has pleased our master."
"Your master, not mine."
Vetha said nothing as she seated herself on the floor. As if she were the hostess, she pointed me to the couch opposite her. Sitting down, I sat toward the edge of the couch. Vetha ignored me and proceeded to open the Scrabble box. She carefully laid the board out, then turned all of the lettered tiles face up. Holding one fingerlike appendage up before her mandibles, she cautioned me to silence, then plucked letters from the box and laid them out on the board.
The sentence she laid out said: FBACK HAS NO TOLERANCE FOR GAMES
1 blinked.
"Your move, Coyote." Vetha looked up at me, her eight eyes filled with dark expectation. "You have seen the ruins of the camp?"
1 nodded. "I have. Did the two Plutonians you took back to their dimension survive?"
"They did." Vetha's forelimbs moved quickly, rearranging and adding letters to those on the board. FB CAN
MONITOR OUR CONVERSATION BUT THIS GAME IS BENEATH HTM
"The chances of salvaging anything from there are nonexistent." I laid a message out as 1 spoke. YOU CAN
"I concur." TRANSLATOR FB NO GOOD WITH LANGUAGE "I believe that puts you 50 points down."
"The game is not over yet. Pygmalion has hardened his proto-dimension, but we have an angle we're working on to crack it open." I quickly put down a new message. FILE NAMES MSGFORME
"That's another 20 points for you. Good use of Spanish." AM IA TRAITOR
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FB EYES YES NO TRUST "And 37 fo
r you."
I KNOW HE DOES NOT TRUST ME I felt excitement rising in me as 1 fished for letters in the pile on the
table. While I had not imagined the synthesis of the
Myrangeikki
race was voluntary, Vetha's antipathy toward Fiddleback surprised me. I would have thought he would not have used her as an envoy if the chance of
betrayal could present itself. Then again, I reminded myself, Fiddleback's incredible arrogance had already failed him twice.
U NO TRUST FB Vetha swept away the word and substituted another after I nodded in comprehension. U
1 removed some of her letters and smiled as I substituted others. I TRUST U
NO DO NOT TRUST FB OR ME She looked up and I read the urgent pleading in her eyes. PROMISE
DONE WHY U TELL ME THIS
BEING ME IS SWEET DO NOT WANT U PART OF FB
1 hesitated. "That's game, I guess. Best two of three?"
"Yes."
Although I only had recently cobbled together my current identity, the idea of subsuming it within another individual did not sound inviting. To become part of Fiddleback, to become one of the creatures on whose
misery he fed, was not something I desired for myself or anyone else. I'd sooner commit suicide than have that happen.
Vetha went first. FB WILL BETRAY YOU
HOW "Double-word score there."
I shook my head. U NO BETRAY ME
Vetha snaked a hand out, the limb telescoping toward me with switchblade speed. Her three fingers closed on my throat, then released quickly. As I choked back a gasp, she assembled a message. INO WANT
"Big score there." I rubbed at my throat and coughed lightly. GOT MSG
GOOD U SHOULD NOT BE I Vetha shook her head. "1 hope this new plan to get Pygmalion works. He
cannot be allowed to be victorious."
"1 agree." 1 dropped letters in a row quickly. PYG FIRST FBNEXT
"Ah, you win." Vetha nodded to me. "I am fatigued. Another time we will play the deciding game, yes?"
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"It will
be my pleasure." GRACIAS
U WILL NOT BE I HAPPY ME
We got very lucky with Jytte and her recollections. She has an excellent mind for details, and the year in which she escaped had been the wettest on record since 1992 in Arizona. Throughout the deserts, wild
flowers bloomed and other plants thrived, covering the area with vegetation seldom seen more than once
a decade.
Working with Rajani, Jytte was able to specify plants and later correlate her remembrances with botanical data. More importantly, though, because of the unseasonable weather, an inordinate number of
photographic and videographic records from that year existed. Starting with tapes archived by the
Kingman television station and falling back to CD-ROMs burned by Northern Arizona University
students doing a botanical survey of the upper plateau, Jytte managed to pinpoint the area through which
she traveled.
Jytte went ahead and narrowed down the likely places where she could have been held. She smiled
sheepishly when she presented a floorplan for the place, noting, "1 determined this had to be the correct location because of
how hard I wanted to deny the possibility that it could have been the place I sought."
In a briefing room, with Sinclair, Rajani, Jytte and Crowley, I looked down at the representation of the