The Dying Light (17 page)

Roche swallowed the comment; now wasn’t the time to dredge up old arguments.

“There is a request for a direct line coming from your vessel, Commander Roche,” said B’shan. “I presume this will be your information officer?”

“Yes. Her name is Lieutenant Gold. Will the line be secure?”

“Naturally. No one outside of this room will be aware of what is said within it.”

“Good.” She stood. Haid did likewise, moving stiffly through the restraining field. “If you’ll arrange someone to show us the way, we’ll get on with our work.”

“Gered will be your guide,” Rufo said, joining B’shan at the central desk. “But one other thing, before you leave. You have not mentioned whether you have a reave in your crew. Can I assume then that you haven’t?”

Roche hesitated, unsure where he was heading. “Not necessarily,” she said.

“Well, if you have, then you’d be aware of the epsense-dampening field that has enveloped this system. We’ve encountered it ourselves, and are close to neutralizing it. Two of my three reaves have regained at least a measure of their normal abilities.” Rufo smiled. “So if you
do
have any on your ship, I’d be happy to assist you in any way I can.”

“Thank you.” Even if what he said was true, Roche would need a lot more convincing of his motives before she let Maii into his clutches. “I’ll certainly take it into consideration.”

The doors to the office opened and Disisto led Roche and Haid through. Glancing back, Roche saw the main tank flicker to life, revealing the face of a white-haired woman in COE uniform, with the usual blue-black interior of a COE ship behind her.

<
What?
>

“Greetings, Professor Rufo,” was all she heard the woman in the tank say before the door closed on the meeting.

* * *

Galine Four’s dry docks were situated inside the spherical framework that formed the exterior of the station. A circular hold laced with retractable mesh allowed access to the dock from the outside; massive gantries and many-limbed cranes lined the dock itself like the limbs of a giant anemone.

The
Ana Vereine
’s scutter wasn’t visible from the pressurized observation platform Disisto took them to, but a couple of other ships were, one of them a small courier vessel that had suffered slight damage along its flanks. Roche studied it with casual interest while she accessed the specifications of the dry dock via her palm-link. Her other hand rested lightly on the butt of the side arm Rufo’s guards had returned to her after she left the station’s sanctum sanctorum.

Haid stood not far away, discussing the finer aspects of navigation with Disisto. Synnett watched coolly from the entrance to the observation deck.

The letters of the courier vessel’s ID code suddenly fell into place. Although the complete sequence was impossible to make out, she could at least tell that it had once belonged to COE Intelligence.

asked the Box.

Daybreak
itself,> she said.

Roche filed the information for future reference.

Daybreak
—but that is bound to be guarded. There are others within walking distance.>

The Box sent a map of the station with black spots marked, which Roche studied for a moment. A small black spot lay almost directly between her and the main docking bay. She turned back to Haid and Disisto, keeping the map in one corner of her eye.

“Hey, Disisto,” she said. “I need to get to the scutter.”

“Is anything wrong?” asked Disisto. His concern seemed genuine.

“No, I just need some specifications from the maintenance AI. I can probably find my own way, if you want to stay here and talk.”

Disisto’s expression relaxed into a smile. “I think we’d better stick together, Commander. That’d be safest for all of us.”

“As you wish.”

She headed for the exit at a brisk pace. Behind her, Haid cursed under his breath; his artificial limbs were getting the better of him, it seemed.

HOW’S THAT? he sent.

she replied.

Synnett fell back to help Haid while Disisto—his long legs equal to Roche’s—did his best to keep up with her.

“You’re in a hurry,” he said as they turned into a broad access corridor lined with branching portals every ten meters. Technicians moved aside as they approached.

“Restless,” she replied. “I’ve been stuck on the ship for too long.”

“The raider? It doesn’t look that cramped.”

“It isn’t really, I guess. It just feels like it at times. The walls close in, the roof starts to cave, the air begins to stink. There are moments when I’d do anything to be somewhere else, just for an hour.”

“Which is why you came here to meet Rufo, I suppose.” He glanced sideways at her. “I was wondering about that. It seemed odd for an officer to relinquish command so readily—especially given the circumstances.”

“Just because I’m not on the ship doesn’t mean I’m no longer in charge,” she retorted.

“You have a good relationship with your crew, then. They obviously know where they stand.”

If Disisto was trying to unsettle her by implying her crew couldn’t be trusted, then he was hitting uncomfortably close to home.

“I trust them,” she said steadily, not wanting him to see her ruffled by the comment. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

He nodded. “A big crew on a raider, then?”

“Moderately.”

“Haid won’t tell me where he fits in, exactly. My guess is weapons systems or security. Is he tight-lipped, or won’t you let him talk?”

She shook her head. “You’re full of questions, Disisto.”

“It’s part of my job.”

“Is Rufo making you ask them?”

“Not exactly.” He pulled a slight moue. “I report to Field Officer Shak’ni.”

“Really?” That surprised her: both his answer and his candor. “I thought he was just a guest.”

“You’re full of questions too, Commander,” he said, grinning. “Under different circumstances I’d be happy to tell you everything, but as it is...”

He let the sentence hang. Roche didn’t mind. She had reached the turnoff for the black spot.

“Let’s go this way, shall we?” She quickly ducked down the corridor before he had chance to object.

“Hey, wait!” Disisto hurried after her, surprised by the sudden turn. “You can’t—”

“Why not?” she shot back. “It’s quicker.”

“How could you possibly know that?” He grabbed at her shoulder, but she dodged aside.

“I have a good sense of direction,” she lied. “You said it wouldn’t take long for me to get my bearings, didn’t you?”

He stopped in his tracks. “Okay,” he called after her. “Okay, we’ll go this way. But can we at least wait for the others to catch up?”

She slowed, watching him over her shoulder as she did so. He seemed to mean it. When she came to a halt, she put her hands on her hips and looked around.

They were standing in a corridor no different from any other in the outer levels of the station. There was no indication of any sinister activity: no strange noises, smells, or sights.

you
see anything?>

Swinging her legs as though to flex her muscles, she strolled ahead until she was in front of the first door. It was open. Through it she saw an unoccupied terminal, complete with palm-link, against the opposite wall.

she said.

DON’T, Haid sent. YOU’RE PUSHING YOUR LUCK AS IT IS.

She turned, saw Haid and Synnett at the end of the corridor. She folded her arms and waited for them to catch up. Disisto stood next to her, a distant look in his eyes suggesting he was communicating with someone via his implants.

she asked Haid.

IT ISN’T DISISTO WE SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT.

Movement to her left caught her attention. Turning back to the room containing the terminal, Roche realized it was occupied. As she watched, a large figure moved slowly into view, obviously heading for the desk. Although clad from boots to gloves in a dark-colored uniform made of some exotic leather, it was clear from the woman’s exposed scalp that she was a Kesh. In one hand she carried a steaming goblet of something that smelled very much like
vukh.

When the Kesh noticed Roche watching her, she snarled and shut the door.

“You certainly have an eclectic crew,” she commented to Disisto.

“This is an accommodation area reserved for some of the more sensitive members, which is why we shouldn’t be here at all. But we have the okay from the chief to proceed.” His voice was relaxed, but his eyes scolded her. “I know you’re curious, Commander, but you need to be more considerate.”

“Careful, you mean?”

“That too.” Haid and Synnett reached them, and Disisto indicated the corridor ahead of them. “Shall we keep going? At a more leisurely pace, this time.”

The walk to the main docking bay revealed little. Doors that were open only revealed empty rooms, and Roche was unable to gain access to a palm-link. By the time she reached the scutter, she had decided that entering the black spot had given her a moral victory only.

she said from within the scutter, while pretending to obtain the data she required.

said the Box.

She left the scutter and joined the others. “Where to now?” she asked Disisto.

“Back to the dry dock?” he suggested.

“Actually, the walk has left me thirsty. How about a drink? You must have a recreation deck here. I’ll buy you one, if they accept COE credit.”

Disisto studied her for a long moment, then said: “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Roche was unable to read his expression. “When Rufo and Lieutenant Gold have finished, we can join them then.”

Disisto nodded as he began to walk. “The main bar is back in the Hub.”

Roche followed, no longer trying to provoke him. There was very little else she could do until they reached the bar. After the disappointment of the one black spot they had entered, she didn’t see any point in trying to access others. There were too many, to begin with, and Disisto would undoubtedly put a stop to it before long.

The bar was deep in the heart of Galine Four, occupying a large space between protein vats and the plant-filled central chamber. It consisted of three rooms connected to a central chamber by wide accessways. In each of the three rooms there was a semicircular bar and numerous tables. The lighting was dim, as befitted a bar, and the sound of voices and glasses clinking along with occasional spurts of Roptio ur-music added to the ambience. The central area comprised a quarter-size dueling field, surrounded by seats.

A fight was in progress as they entered. The supporters of each combatant had clustered in groups to watch the hologram, cheering and jeering in equal measure.

Roche hooked a thumb at the scene. “A recording, I presume?”

“Must be something they pulled out of the archives,” said Disisto, “because we haven’t received any transmissions from outside the system for ages. Anything to keep the hardcore fans happy.”

Roche glanced at Haid, caught him staring at the game in curiosity. “Ameidio?”

He turned to her. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

She smiled. Haid had been confined to a penal planet for more years than he cared to remember. Dueling was a pleasure he had missed, and he had spent several days catching up on it upon finding freedom aboard the
Ana Vereine.
Even now, he obviously felt its call.

“What do you want to drink?” she asked.

Haid shrugged. “Anything that’s not too strong.”

“Disisto? Synnett?”

“We’re on duty,” Disisto said. He nodded to a doorway beyond the dueling field. “We can order through there.”

He led them past the fight and into one of the side rooms where it was quieter and less crowded. A number of patrons were Exotic, and clearly appreciated the space. They found a table and sat: Haid and Roche on one side, with Disisto and Synnett facing them.

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” ventured Roche, “how
do
I order?”

“There’s a palm-link on your chair, if you want to use that. Otherwise, I can call an attendant.”

“The link will be fine.” She found the pad on the arm of her chair and placed her hand upon it.

she said.

Daybreak.
It seems Linegar Rufo is less susceptible to an attractive woman than I had hoped.>

She had spied someone crossing the room toward her.

“Morgan!” called Myer Mavalhin. “Fancy meeting you down here. I thought you’d be up with the big shots for sure.”