Zero Recall (24 page)
Authors: Sara King
Syuri stormed onto the
ship, all six legs working in barely contained fury. His internal pressure had
been at critical levels for the last two weeks, ever since the Jreet had
tortured him until he gave up his real name and identification numbers. Even
now, the authorities could be looking for him. The knowledge had left him
unable to sleep, a constant, nervous wreck all the way to his employer’s ship.
The constant strain was going to give him a rupture.
As soon as he stepped
into the dank room, the Geuji said, “You look unhealthy, Syuri.”
“That was stupid,
Forgotten. That Jreet almost killed me. He thought
I
had delivered
that bomb.”
“You did.”
Syuri’s internal pressure
skyrocketed. He felt a slickening of his skin as his chambers voided
themselves, then a sharp, blinding pain in his lower back.
“Careful,” Forgotten
said. “You’re going to rupture your liquids exchange.”
“You had me…” Syuri was
so stunned he could not think. “That was
not
a part of our bargain.”
He had destroyed a
planet
?!
“If I had told you about
it, you wouldn’t have been able to sound so convincing when the Jreet
interrogated you.”
“He took my
identification.
He knows who I am!”
“He’ll do nothing with
it. You assured him of your innocence.”
Remembering the horrible
hours wrapped in the Jreet’s muscular body, the poisoned appendage almost
touching him as the Jreet asked his questions, constricted within the Jreet’s
coils until Syuri’s internal chambers threatened to burst… Syuri shuddered and
fought down nausea. “I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.”
“Stands to reason.
You’ve never
been
so helpless in your life.”
“Getting squeezed until I
voided myself was not part of the bargain!”
“I told you it was dangerous,”
Forgotten retorted. “You told me, and I quote, ‘Danger?! Gimme your worst,
corpse-rot. I
live
for danger.’ You are, after all, a mercenary.”
“I’m a pirate,” Syuri
muttered.
“Technically, you
aren’t. You don’t ambush and murder innocent caravans for their goods. You
steal, smuggle, and rent your services out to the highest bidder.”
“Last time I make
that
mistake,” Syuri snapped. “You’re going to get me killed.”
“You will not die in my
service, Syuri,” Forgotten replied solemnly. “A loyal agent is worth more to
me than a dead one.”
“Nice try,” Syuri
snapped. “I’m done doing business with you, Geuji.”
“Then why are you here?”
Syuri opened his mouth,
then closed it again. It was true. Forgotten had transferred the money into
his account the moment Aez had exploded. He had no reason to be here, other
than to vent, and both of them knew Syuri wouldn’t waste valuable ship fuel to
vent. Muttering, he said, “Last time I was here, you mentioned another job.
Eight mil if I succeed.”
“Yes,” the fungus
replied. “I want you to visit the Space Academy.”
Syuri’s jaw fell open.
“No, Syuri,” Forgotten
said, sounding amused, “I don’t want you to blow up Levren. This is a personal
matter.”
Syuri’s attention
sharpened. He was good at reading people—it was the talent that had kept him
out of Peacemaker hands for over twenty turns of high-profile thievery. He
never worked for someone unless he felt sure he could read them like an open
book. Forgotten was the only exception, Syuri only gaining brief glimpses of
the Geuji’s intentions before they were shut off again, but Forgotten’s money
had been generous enough that Syuri had been able to overlook that
inconvenience.
“How personal?” he asked
carefully.
Syuri’s sivvet were hit
with a startling rush of something that felt like…unhappiness…before it was
shut away again. “I am currently involved in a scheme with creatures of very
dubious integrity,” Forgotten replied. “I want you to ensure their side of the
bargain is still intact.”
“What do they have in the
Space Academy?” Syuri demanded. “That place is a fortress.”
“What interests me is
kept in climate-controlled vaults in the basement,” Forgotten replied. “I want
you to get in and verify they are what they are purported to be. I can give
you the access codes to all the security points along the way, then the bypass
codes to the vaults themselves. It will be a simple operation.”
It didn’t go unnoticed to
Syuri that the Geuji hadn’t answered his question. “What’s in the vaults?”
Another startling wash of
misery. And…loneliness? “Something very important to me.” The rush of truth
was overwhelming, like cool water upon his sivvet. Syuri liked that in
Forgotten—he was always truthful. In that sense, he even reminded him of the
infernal, self-righteous bastard that had spent three hours threatening to turn
him into a pincushion—and meaning every word of it.
This made Syuri
hesitate. Forgotten had only paid Syuri two mil for Aez. If a
planet
was worth two mil to Forgotten, Syuri could not help but wonder what was worth
eight.
Tentatively, he said, “So
you want me to steal what’s in the vaults?”
“You can’t.” More misery
hit his sivvet in a tide before the Geuji locked it away.
Feeling the sheer
strength behind that raw emotion, Syuri actually found himself feeling a little
bad for the fungus. Whatever it was, it hurt him. A lot. “There’s nothing I
can’t steal,” Syuri offered gently. “Whatever they took from you, I can get it
back.”
“You can’t steal them,”
Forgotten repeated.
Syuri considered this. If
he could put it in a ship, he could steal it. He supposed it was possible
Forgotten was trying to convince him it was impossible so Syuri wouldn’t take
them for himself.
“I do not lie, Jahul.”
“But you omit facts when
it suits you,” Syuri retorted. Then, at Forgotten’s lack of an answer, he added,
“Like, oh, say, exploding the planet of a clan of invisible, poisonous,
strangulation-prone super-warriors that are irrationally blood-thirsty even for
Jreet?” That
still
rankled him. Good thing there were no survivors, or
he would be
dead
. Simply dead.
Forgotten said nothing.
Syuri knew he should
leave right there, let the fool blow up his own planets, but something about
the job fascinated him. It was Forgotten’s reaction more than anything else.
What could be more important than a planet? It…tantalized him.
“So you’re telling me all
I have to do is get into the Space Academy and check out the vaults in the
basement and then come back? Do you want documentation? Photographs?”
“Visual confirmation is
all I need.” Forgotten almost felt…tired. Old.
“And nothing will
explode,” Syuri said pointedly. “No one will
die
. I don’t like it when
things die, Geuji.”
“Nothing will die.” When
Syuri’s gaze sharpened, the Geuji added, “Or explode.”
“I don’t get it. Why is
it worth eight mil for me just to look? They find the Stone of Youth or
something? There’s some sort of plans you want me to read? You might find
this surprising, but a Jahul’s brain isn’t as sharp as yours. I can’t just
look and take a picture in my head.”
“Just make the visual confirmation
and you will have your money.” Again, Syuri’s sivvet caught the briefest
glimpse of…sadness.
Syuri hesitated, frowning
up at the black mass hung across the walls around him. “What the hell is wrong
with you, Forgotten?”
Syuri got blasted with a
brief flash of shock. The Geuji hesitated. Then, “You can feel my emotions?
Even when I try to hide them from you?”
“You know of some
other
way I became the greatest pirate in this sector?” Syuri demanded.
“You’re a mercenary,”
Forgotten replied. “Pirates kill people.” Then, belatedly, “
Knowingly
kill people.”
Syuri waved a hand
dismissively. “Technicalities. Besides. Everyone knows the Aezi are
self-righteous zealots. Now answer my question.”
“I have…a problem…that
has bothered me for a while,” Forgotten admitted.
“And?” Syuri insisted.
“…and I’m working to
rectify it,” Forgotten replied. “But I need your help.”
Syuri tapped his hard,
callused fingers against his chin. “Is this some way to get rid of me, now
I’ve suited your purposes?”
“If I’d wanted to get rid
of you,” Forgotten said softly, “I’d have killed you as soon as you stepped
aboard my ship, ejected your corpse into an uncharted area of space, and
abandoned your ship in an area frequented by pirates.”
Syuri felt his internal
chambers tighten and a new slick spread over his skin. “Is that what you’re
going to do if I refuse?”
“No.” Around the room,
Forgotten’s body seemed to ripple with a glossy black wave and Syuri felt
another tang of misery before it went still.
“No, what?” Syuri prodded.
“You’re gonna kill me somewhere else?”
“No, I’ll leave you free
to live your life however you choose,” the great mold replied. “I do not kill
my agents.”
Even though the Geuji
emanated truth, Syuri snorted. “You won’t let me go my own way, not after
telling me about the bomb. I could tell the authorities.”
“They’ll have worse
things to accuse me of before I’m through.”
Syuri peered at the
Geuji, realizing with a cold prickle that he was serious. “Worse than blowing
up a
planet
?”
“Yes.” The Geuji sounded
tired. That scared Syuri more than anything. What could exhaust a
Geuji?
“Why are you doing it?”
Syuri asked softly. “You don’t need the money—you bought me a new ship to take
to Aez like it was nothing to you.”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Again, that wash of…exhaustion. Strong enough to make Syuri himself want to
take a nap.
Syuri debated it. He
knew that a normal employer would kill him as soon as he declined, regardless
of what he said. Forgotten, however, was different. It seemed as if he truly
did not care what the authorities knew about his activities.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe
he was too smart for them to catch him.
“Where are the rest of
your kind?” Syuri finally asked. “You’d think with a brain like yours, I’d
hear about you ruling planets and managing companies. You’d be better at
regulating the economy than the Bajna, if you wanted to waste your time at it.
Your arts would humble the Ooreiki. Your sciences would shame the Ueshi. I
mean, if you weren’t focused on avoiding the Space Corps, you could bring our
civilization into the next golden age all by yourself. You said you’re only
three hundred and eleven turns old. So where’re the rest of you?”
Syuri could feel a
sadness emanate from the Geuji, though Forgotten said nothing.
“They’re dead, aren’t
they?” Syuri said softly. He felt genuine sympathy for the great creature.
Instead of answering,
Forgotten said, “Syuri, answer me something truthfully.”
“I’ll try.”
“Does everyone think like
you?”
Syuri laughed. “I break
the law for a living, Geuji.”
“I’m serious.”
Syuri sobered.
“Would anyone else,
stepping onto my ship and seeing me for what I am, see anything other than a
way of getting what they want? Would they see anything other than something to
fear? Something that would try to control them? Take over?”
Now Syuri understood.
Tentatively, he said, “If you’re thinking about straightening out, I don’t
think Congress’ll ever forgive you. I mean, you’ve been a major pain in
Congressional ass for like, what, two hundred fifty turns?”
“Three hundred and four,
if you believe their propaganda,” Forgotten said. “They didn’t know I existed
until then.”
Syuri grimaced. “My
point is Congress doesn’t screw around. They’d execute me if they found me,
but you… I think they’d keep you alive.”
“I know.”
Syuri cocked his head at
Forgotten’s answer. “Then I’ve got a question for you, Geuji.”
“What?”
“Would you go straight if
you could?”
It took Forgotten several
moments to respond.
Finally, he
said, “Yes.”
“We’re
uncoordinated, just as likely to blow holes in each other as in the enemy.”
Joe took a deep breath and kept pacing, his father’s knife a smooth comfort as
he rubbed it in his hand. His gut was not liking the situation at all. Something
was wrong…
very
wrong, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Unfortunately,
I guess something about having a top-classed Va’gan and a Jreet the size of a
Congressional tank—and no team casualties so far—gave them the idea we had our
shit together.” He made a disgusted snort. “They’re treating us the same as a
groundteam that’s been working together for six turns. Our first assignment is
a prince’s den.”
Daviin broke
into an immediate, fearsome Jreet grin, but Jer’ait simply waited, silently
holding Joe’s gaze. He had still not bothered to hide his defective eye,
which, Joe knew, meant something important. He was still trying to figure out
what it was.
“Once we get
down there, we’re gonna be doubly blind,” Joe continued, setting the mystery of
the Huouyt’s eye aside for more consideration later. “The rock surrounding us on
Neskfaat has just the right striations of minerals in it to make imaging
difficult. They can only see down the first twenty, thirty rods. From there,
we’ll have to rely on our PPU’s to get us around.” He glanced at the Ooreiki.
“That, and Galek.”
Though the
Ooreiki outweighed Joe by about a hundred and twenty lobes, the youngster
glanced at his feet in embarrassment, his dark skin sticky and splotched with
orange.