The Dying Light (18 page)

Roche stood. “Hello, Myer.”

Disisto glanced behind him. “Mavalhin?”

Mavalhin’s step faltered upon seeing the dock security head. “Oh, it’s you.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Myer? I’ll be having words with the ingress team about letting you out of decon so early.”

“Hey, don’t go too hard on them,” the pilot protested. “It wasn’t
their
fault.”

“Then I’ll be talking to
you
instead.”

“In that case, it was
entirely
their fault.” He winked at Roche. “But seeing as I’m here, I might as well stay, right?”

“Don’t look at me, Myer,” said Roche. “I’m only a guest.”

Disisto shook his head and sighed. “Just remember you’re on probation, all right?”

Mavalhin pulled up a chair and sat. “So, what’re we drinking?”

Roche hid a smile. Nothing had changed. “I’ll get this round,” she said, “but after that you’re on your own.”

Myer smiled appreciatively. “I’ll have a snifter of Old Gray.”

Roche relayed the order to the Box just as an attendant arrived with her first order. Haid nodded approval at the long-stemmed glass containing a murky brown mixture, and Roche raised her own colorless drink to her lips and toasted Disisto. Synnett drank without acknowledging anyone.

Sipping the cool, clear liquid made Roche realize just how thirsty the meeting and the walk had left her. She swallowed gratefully, then sipped again.

“It’s a long way from Bodh Gaya,” she said to Mavalhin after a third sip.

“But here we are,” he said. “I heard you stayed with COE in the end. Looks like you’ve done all right with them.”

She was careful to hide her true feelings. “I can’t complain. It does get boring at times, but I prefer the security of a regular job. And it’s not that restrictive. I spent a few years in Intelligence before transferring to active command. It’s been fun, mostly.” She did her best to maintain an air of self-composure and confidence. “You?”

He lifted his shoulders slightly. “Tried the Eckandar Trade Axis for a while, then a private freight company out past Tretamen. The bottom went out of the market and the company folded, and that left me in the lurch. I worked as a freelance courier for a few years, before finally signing on with Galine Four.”

Disisto snorted. “Courier, eh? I heard you were on the run from Olmahoi creditors and needed cash to avoid grayboot retribution.”

Mavalhin gestured dismissively. “Exaggeration and rumor. Yes, money was short, but it never got
that
bad.”

Roche could tell by the tightness around his eyes that it probably
had
been that bad. Rufo would have been able to purchase his services at a bargain price. Regardless of his personal flaws, Mavalhin’s credentials would have been impressive; few people left the COE College so close to finishing, and their services were desired in many quarters of the region.

“So what is it you do here, anyway?” she asked.

Mavalhin opened his mouth to reply, but caught Disisto’s reproving look. He stopped, smiled, and said: “I’m just a pilot, Morgan. Nothing spectacular. I gave up on the dream of making something of myself. There’s a place for everyone, I’ve learned, and I guess this is mine.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Myer I once knew.”

“Well, I’ve changed, I guess.”

Roche laughed. “Now that
really
doesn’t sound like you!”

He fixed her with a disarming smile that lasted almost ten seconds. “Everyone changes, Morgan. You should try it sometime.”

Roche smiled, but the accusation made her feel uncomfortable. “You’d be surprised, Myer,” she said after a while.

“Really?” He beamed. “Go ahead, then. Surprise me.”

An attendant brought his drink, and with it a welcome interruption in the conversation. Roche was even more thankful when the Box intruded before they could resume their talk:

Roche fought to contain a rising sense of frustration.

said the Box. Ana Vereine
contains a variety of covert surveillance devices designed to infiltrate an enemy vessel. Some of them are microscopic in size and self-replicating; a small amount placed at any location in Galine Four would quickly spread to cover the black spots. I could even reprogram a pseudospecies to allow me terminal access.>

“Morgan?” It was Mavalhin.

She quickly raised a hand to silence him, then closed her eyes, shutting out her immediate surroundings so she could concentrate on what the AI was saying. Ana Vereine.
How are you going to get them here?>

Roche thought about it for a long moment.

That would leave the
Ana Vereine
empty except for Kajic and the Box, but she kept that concern to herself.

The Box paused before continuing: is
the possibility that everything is exactly at it seems—that we can trust Rufo implicitly in everything he says. The high security might be standard for Galine Four and the other discrepancies we have noted nothing more than unfortunate coincidences>

you
think?>

the AI said. you
have to—>

Roche opened her eyes and reached for her glass.

She took a deep draft of her drink.

Ana Vereine
closer to minimize transfer time. If there are any changes, I will let you know.>

She put the glass down on the table. Mavalhin was watching her curiously.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Just some business that needed attending to.”

He smiled crookedly but said nothing. “No rest for the wicked, eh?” said Disisto. Before she could say anything, he raised a hand to his ear, his head tilted as though straining to hear something above the general noise of the room. “Your scutter has requested permission to disengage,” he said to her. “It’s leaving without you?”

“Temporarily,” she explained. “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer; you see, we
do
have a reave on board, and she needs help.”

“So you’ve decided to trust us now?”

“Decided we have no choice,” said Roche. “She needs the treatment.”

Disisto nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Is everything else in order?”

“It seems to be,” she said. “For the moment, at least “ Again she sensed something in his stare that belied the calmness of his face, but she could do no more than wonder about it. “Anyway, what were we talking about?”

“About how much you’ve changed,” said Mavalhin with a smugness that irritated Roche.

“Shut up, Myer,” she said.

“What?” He laughed. “I didn’t say anything!”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” she said. “So let’s just change the subject, shall we?” She picked up her glass and sat back, looking over to Disisto. “Let’s talk about
Daybreak
instead.”

It was Disisto’s turn to smile. “You spotted it, then?”

“I’m not blind,” she said. “Where did you find it?”

“It drifted in from the outer system five days ago. One of our scouts discovered it and hauled it here once he was sure there was no one aboard.”

“And that scout was you, Myer?” she said.

Mavalhin grinned. “Sorry, Morgan. Can’t help you there. I was over Aro Spaceport at the time.”

She shrugged. It had been worth a try; Mavalhin would have been much easier to pump information from than the security officer. “Was there no one aboard, then, Disisto?”

“Apart from the bodies stacked in the hold, no, there wasn’t. The pilot had abandoned the vessel long before we found it.”

“That would be before he attacked Guhr Outpost in the tug, right?” put in Haid.

“I guess so,” Disisto said. “Once he had no use for
Daybreak,
he must have discarded it.”

“That surprises me,” Haid went on. “In every other instance he’s used the vessel he had just vacated to act as a distraction. But not this time. It would have been more sensible to destroy it. Any guesses why not?”

Disisto opened his hands in apology. “That’s something you’d have to ask the chief. I’m not privy to all the information we’ve uncovered.”

“The fact that he didn’t bring it up makes me even more curious,” said Roche.

“I’m sure it does.” Disisto’s smile hadn’t faded; if anything, it had grown wider. Roche received the distinct impression that he was enjoying her attempts to probe the station’s veil of secrecy.

“She’s always been like this,” said Mavalhin, leaning forward to put his empty glass on the table. “A troublemaker, too. Did you know that she hacked into the College Head’s private datacore to reprogram his secretary AI? For a week, it would speak only in an obscure Mbatan dialect Morgan had unearthed in an archive. Because only a dozen or so people on the other side of the Commonwealth could speak that language, it was a whole day before the Head could get any sense out of it. It brought the Academy to a halt—and all so she could miss a Tactics exam she hadn’t prepared for.”

“Hey, that’s a lie!” Roche protested with mock indignation.
“
You
were the one with the exam! I did it so you could get out of taking it.”

“Ah yes, that’s right,” he said. “You would’ve done anything for me back in those days, wouldn’t you?”

Roche conceded a wry smile and shook her head. “I’d forgotten what you can be like, Myer,” she said. Oddly enough, she enjoyed the banter almost as much as it annoyed her—which was a fair summary of her feelings for him, now
and
then. “But you won’t catch me off guard again, that I promise you.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“You can take it any way you like.”

“Accepted, then. Where shall we start?”

Somehow he drew her into a one-on-one conversation, against her better instincts. While Haid and Disisto listened, occasionally talking to each other or interjecting with observations, she and Mavalhin sparred as smoothly as they had years before. It amazed her how easily the old ways returned: she had never met anybody since him who knew just how to antagonize her. The reverse was also true. Despite the fact that they had both experienced much since they had last met, the mental processes that dictated the flow of conversation remained unchanged.

“Look, I’m sorry to have to break this up,” Disisto eventually said, “but if you want to meet the scutter, we should start heading down to the docking bay.”

Roche was surprised. “So soon?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a walk there,” said Disisto. “Besides which, we have to drop Myer off so he can finish his debriefing decon.”

“Oh, come on, Disisto!” said Mavalhin.

But Disisto and Synnett were already standing, the latter tugging Mavalhin to his feet. Haid finished the contents of his glass and stood; Roche did likewise.

“Changed man, eh, Myer?” Roche scoffed.

The pilot ignored her.

On the way past the dueling field, Haid nudged her with one angular elbow and indicated the hologram with a nod. Roche looked, and had a quick glimpse of armored, robotic figures toiling with ferocious weapons on an open playing field. Nothing looked out of place.

I THOUGHT I RECOGNIZED THE GAME AS WE CAME IN, he sent. IT’S A REPEAT OF THE GRUDGE MATCH BETWEEN ALEMDAR QUICK AND THE PREVIOUS CHAMPION, VOID 34.

THE GAME WAS PUT ON IDNET SEX DAYS AGO. BUT PALASIAN SYSTEM WAS ENCLOSED
TWENTY
DAYS AGO. THERE’S NO WAY THEY COULD’VE RECEIVED THIS GAME FROM IN HERE.

Roche stopped to look at the game with renewed interest, but Synnett urged them forward irritably.

POSITIVE. I WATCHED IT IN THE REHAB UNIT WHEN MY IMPLANTS WERE INSTALLED.

She thought it through carefully, while following Disisto and Mavalhin out of the bar.

said the Box.

THAT’S THE PRIZE-WINNING QUESTION, ISN’T IT?

She frowned.