The Balance of Silence (2 page)

“Sorry,” he said, willing down an embarrassed flush.

The woman standing next to the vid console, tall and lean, with sun-darkened skin only slightly lighter than his own, nodded brusquely. “Take a seat. I was just starting the briefing. My name’s Marta.”

He grabbed one of the empty folding chairs, trying not to look too guilty.

“Basically, what you have to remember at all times on Maltana is that ReliefCorp is a neutral civilian aid organization. At no point do we offer supplies to
either
side of the conflict. Obviously, if you’re threatened into doing so, your life is more important than the supplies, but we want immediate notification of the situation. Each jungle hopper is equipped with a distress beacon, and we can’t stress strongly enough that you must carry it with you if you’re outside the vehicle.”

Listening attentively, Riv tried not to imagine too many scenarios where using the beacon would be necessary, and how unlikely it was that a ship would be in orbit close enough to matter if he had to.

“Having said that, I know that you all volunteered to come here specifically.” Marta smiled grimly.

“Maltana doesn’t draw from our regular pool of volunteers these days.”

Riv knew what she wasn’t saying. He’d read the literature, seen the newsfeeds. Maltana was rapidly declining into the kind of place where the only improvement was escape, and people were doing desperate things to get off-world. Not many outsiders were jumping at the chance to be dumped into the middle of it, and with good reason.

He also knew that this was where he needed to be right now, all argument and logic to the contrary.

He’d already superimposed the face of the man he was serving this makeshift penance for on a dozen

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9

S. Reesa Herberth and Michelle Moore

different people, and he was willing to trade a little of his own safety for the possibility that some day he’d be able to see his
own
face in the mirror without an instant press of regret and self-loathing.

“Zone 18, Terraform district 11,” Marta said, and the map unfolded across the vid wall, the terrain view a bright purple overlay against both the lush rainforest and the dark brown strips of cleared land.

“Maltana only has one large population center, and you’re standing in it. For a planet of this size, that’s nearly unheard of. Part of it is the rainforest. It means there’s little-to-no farmland in any given zone. Most of it, though, is that the controlling planetary agencies have actively discouraged any kind of long-term settlement by moving the workers around so much. You’ll find a few trade outposts, a bar here and there, but most of those are leftover buildings from vacated job sites.” She tapped the far edge of the map, zooming in on an area that seemed to have been deforested like a checkerboard, then glanced down at her notebook screen.

“River—”

“Just Riv,” he cut in hastily, cursing his parents and the request for a full given name on every form he’d ever had to fill out. He didn’t miss the smirk she leveled at him, or the repressed snort of laughter.

“Right then, Riv, you’ll be dropped here, right on the edge of Zone 5. You can see by the growth here, it hasn’t been worked in decades, and the way the fighting is going, it’s not likely to be revisited any time soon. Zone 5 is one of the first work centres, and it’s got one of the largest populations because of it.

People stayed behind when the work crews moved on here, established their own claims on the land. It’s an insular area, made more so by the cutoff of any interzone traffic in the past few months. There are six main ReliefCorp stations you’ll be delivering to, and a MedAid clinic.”

“Got it. Do you have an estimation of how long the run should take me?”

She ran a pointer over the map, following a path that was mostly green. “It’s going to be slow going.

Overgrowth after clear-cutting tends to come back thick, thick enough that even hoppers have trouble getting through.” Lips pursed, she took a step back. “We plan on three planetary weeks. You’re not setting up stations, just dropping supplies, so once you get to each one, you won’t be staying long. Obviously things happen though, so we don’t start worrying until we hit four weeks without contact.”

“And after four weeks?”

“We hope that the next person making that run finds you.”

“Probably as remains.” This from a man sitting to Riv’s left, tipped back in his chair and smiling.

“We’re pretty proud of the fact that our loss percentages are a lot lower than any other aid agencies operating in such…problematic areas. But you all were made more than aware of the hazards of this job.

Some of you probably volunteered for that very reason.” Her eyes skimmed the room. “And not to make judgments based on looks, but you all seem like you’re a decent bet to keep our percentages where they are.”

10

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The Balance of Silence

“Now you wouldn’t be hinting that we’re all here on a suicide mission, would you?” drawled the man in the very back of the room.

Riv had to think that if there
was
someone who looked likely to get himself killed, it was this guy.

Eyes impossibly wide, and jittering nervously around the corners of the room, never meeting anything head on, he seemed to be having trouble even remaining in his chair. Hard to imagine him staying calm when the chips were down.

“Absolutely
not
,” Marta said firmly. “I know you’ve all been screened, but if any of you think this is a good way to die a hero, or whatever it is idealists thrive on these days, you can march your ass right back to the shuttlepad and wait for the next offworld pickup to come in. You want to kill yourself, do it on your own damn time, and don’t drag my mortality rates down with you.”

Even jittery guy laughed.

Marta snorted. “You think I’m kidding. These statistics mean a lot to us. Means we get into places that other aid agencies can’t. Mess up our reputation and I’m liable to do my best to ensure that there’s no search and recovery for your body, and I’ll see that your records disappear just as thoroughly.”

It was impossible to tell if she was serious or not, but to be sure, Riv struggled to stifle his grin. “So, uh, can you tell us what to expect when we get out in the field?”

“A lot of jungle.”

This time he let himself grin. “I was thinking more along the lines of the people we might be running into, actually.”

“There weren’t any native humanoid species on Maltana until the corporations moved in to terraform, so the people who lay claim to the land here are mostly still holding out under old Galactic homesteading laws. Especially on the deeper jungle routes, don’t expect to be met with anything but suspicion and hostility, and watch your back. Just because you’re there to help doesn’t mean anyone trusts you.”

“So you’re really going to do this?” Del made no move to disguise the tone of her voice, consternation plain as she alternated between nibbling a cookie and glaring at him on the vid screen.

“I would have thought that was evidenced by the fact that I took a leave of absence and a flight to Maltana, princess,” he replied evenly.

“If you get yourself killed in the middle of the jungle, don’t expect me to come save your ass.

Although Bin just might, so he could yell at you about this a little more.”

Riv tried to peer past her on the screen, but he didn’t see her husband lurking around in the corner, so he stuck out his tongue. “Do you enjoy being married to an old woman?”

“I heard that, Riversong,” Bin’s disembodied voice chimed in, and Riv winced a little, before Del’s raucous laughter nearly unseated her. Still giggling, she held up her notepad and pressed the screen for him, and the same phrase played.

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S. Reesa Herberth and Michelle Moore

“I had him record it for me. It was the best idea ever. The look on your face,
Riversong
.” And she was off again, laughing until she was clutching at her stomach, a bit of an overreaction by his estimate.

“I’m glad I can provide you with this much entertainment, and me so far away. You don’t need me back on the
Mel
at all, do you?”

It was actually a little scary to see Del go from laughing to sober that quickly. “That’s not true at all.

And it’s not the point, either. We’re just…we’re worried about you.” Del scrubbed her face, frustration evident in her voice. “There’s a whole lot of places that you could be helping, places that need you just as much. Places that won’t get you killed.”

“But this is where I need to be right now.”

“I know,” she said ruefully. “But I don’t have to like it.” She dropped out of sight for a second, and then came back into view holding a cup of tea in both hands. “Believe it or not, I do understand needing to do something.”

Riv smiled. “I know you do, sweetheart. And I want you to know how much I appreciate you trying to explain it to Bin. I expect that wasn’t easy.”

“How did you know? Did Bin tell you?”

Riv nodded, letting the rumble of an incoming ground crawler fade as it noisily traveled past the visitor barracks. “Not in so many words, of course. There was some grumbling about how certain matters had become clear to him. I figured that meant you’d used short sentences.” He grinned, matching the one that she gave him.

“Sometimes I forget that you know my husband better than I do.” Setting down her mug, she stared into the screen, eyes narrowed. “Are you sure there wasn’t something
more
between you two before I came along?”

He choked on his laugh, eyes watering. “For all that’s holy, Del, don’t even think things like that.”

“You can’t blame a girl for being suspicious.”

“I most certainly can.” He shuddered exaggeratedly. “Just the thought is giving me hives, right now.”

“Well,
I
like him just fine, thank you.” The toss of her auburn curls was so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but smile, and she drank her tea in silence for a moment before pressing on. “You’re coming back to us, remember that. And when you do, retribution will be swift, my friend.” Hesitation wasn’t like her, and Riv tried to diffuse her mood with another smile when she finally spoke. “I know how seriously you take your pacifism, Riv, and I know we’re all dancing around what happened, but it wasn’t like you were acting out mindless violence. You were defending Denny—”

“This isn’t about that,” he said, cutting her off swiftly. “I just need to know that I can make some kind of difference for someone.” He pretended to hear something out in the hallway, hoping the audio wasn’t good enough that she’d know he was lying. “I have to go, Del, I think they’re calling us for dinner. I’m 12

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The Balance of Silence

heading out in a couple days, and I don’t know if I’ll have a chance to vid again before then, so I’d best say my goodbyes for now. You take care of yourself, princess. Keep Bin in line while I’m gone, okay?”

“You’re an infuriating man.” She snorted, glaring resolutely down at something he couldn’t see. “I love you, and if you get in trouble, I’ll fly down there myself and find you, so be
careful
. I’ll talk to you in a month or so, I guess.”

Riv beamed at her, knowing how hard-won any expression of affection was from Del. “I’ll be healthy and whole, and you can yell at me all you want, I promise.”

“See to it,” she muttered, and the vid screen went dark, but not before he saw her reach up to wipe her eyes.

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13

Like most bars in this part of the country, Hayuk’s was little more than a couple of tin roofs and plasti-siding. Smoke drifted away into the trees behind it, and the thought of food made Riv’s mouth water.

It wasn’t as though he was going to get much farther that evening anyway, so he killed the engine in his jungle hopper and made sure his security code was set before heading into the dim establishment.

Two things were immediately apparent. One, that there was indeed food being served, and two, that the music he’d heard outside wasn’t a recording after all. He settled himself unobtrusively near the door and ordered food and drink, a feat that was made easier by the lack of selections available to him.

The man sitting at the piano was stooped in the shoulders, his slightly ragged blond hair sticking up at angles that defied gravity. The only time he seemed to look up from the keys was when someone brushed too near, and then it was only a quick darting of his eyes before he dropped them back to the piano. He’d never play a concert hall, but he was good, surprisingly good, for a run-down dump in the middle of nowhere.

The arrival of the food, mostly fruit-based, low on meat and hardly worth getting excited over, was still enough to distract him momentarily from the mystery of a piano in the middle of a jungle. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but there was something to be said for fresh mango chutney and steamed rice, and even the tiny bits of fish he occasionally happened upon weren’t too bad.

Riv worked his way through the plate slowly, letting the day’s aches and pains settle down. He was in no hurry to leave, especially since the only bed waiting for him was amidst the fuel cells and supplies in the hopper. He closed his eyes and focused his breathing, letting each sense find its own way for a few minutes as he unwound. The piano made the otherwise drab surroundings comfortable, and he ignored the obviously out-of-tune keys.

All too soon, he was scraping the last grains of rice off the bottom of the bowl. The thought of requesting seconds was a fleeting one, dismissed almost instantly when he saw the decidedly unfriendly glare the serving girl was sending his way. No sense pissing her off. Chances were good he’d be scrounging up breakfast here as well.

“It was great, thanks.” Riv smiled and handed her the bowl.

The snort could’ve been appreciation, or perhaps shy gratitude, but he had his doubts. “Kitchen’s closed, there ain’t no more, so don’t even ask.” Nope, no mistaking that for anything but irritated dismissal.