Authors: Sara King
Zero Recall (46 page)
Syuri shook his head.
The Huouyt gave him a
flat, alien look that reeked of pity even without his
sivvet.
“You
think a creature like that is actually
capable
of having a friend,
Jahul?”
Syuri shuddered,
realizing Cha’vai was right. Forgotten was alone. He’d seen the proof. He’d
felt
it. Who could the Geuji afford to trust? It was much easier to get rid of
his agents after they’d served their usefulness.
No.
The Geuji must have made
a mistake in his timing, something that allowed the Huouyt to catch him. He
wouldn’t have purposefully put Syuri into the hands of the enemy. He refused
to believe it.
“I ask again,” the Huouyt
said, his eyes unreadable. “Will you give us the information we require
willingly or will you do it with drugs? I must warn you that some of the
substances we Huouyt use in our interrogations have permanent consequences.”
Syuri took a deep
breath. “So is that what Forgotten wants? To free his people?”
The Huouyt gave him an
electric stare. “One can assume.”
“Drug me,” Syuri said.
“You will not get what you desire, Huouyt.”
The Huouyt stood with an
unreadable look. His tentacle flicked outward and touched Syuri’s exposed
arm. He felt a tiny sting and Syuri lost feeling almost instantly.
“I already have,” the
Huouyt said.
#
“Still wanted a claw,”
Flea muttered as the six of them walked from the awards ceremony.
A bit irritated, Jer’ait
examined the Baga. Flea’s
kasja
was downsized to about the size of a
Congressional credit, so as not to crush the Baga under its weight. An Ooreiki
Overseer had affixed it to the back of his carapace, between the wings, right
before the Ooreiki had given Flea a ceremonial note worth three million
credits. Despite the kasja’s diminutive size, it still glowed with all the
impressive beauty of a larger one. It made Jer’ait slightly jealous of the
Baga’s good fortune, but only for a moment. Only imbecile furgs wanted
glowing, rainbow-colored targets affixed to their backs. Not even the Human,
who had six, wore his.
“You’ll get a claw next
time,” the Human said.
The Baga grunted
disgustedly. “I’d have one now, if Galek hadn’t been stupid and gotten himself
caught.”
“I’m sorry, Flea,” the
Ooreiki said, looking sincere.
“Think of it this way,”
Daviin said. “Instead of a worthless prince’s shit-covered talon, now you’ve
got a few million credits to lose to me, instead of a few thousand.”
The Baga’s eyes lit up
with obvious glee. “Is that a challenge?”
“Not really,” Daviin
said. “Taking money from a Baga is like taking meat from an Ayhi. They can
neither use it, nor have the capacity to appreciate it properly.”
Flea’s hackles went up,
and for a moment, Jer’ait thought he would spit in the furgling Jreet’s face.
Then the Baga laughed. “You’re on.”
Jer’ait tried not to
resent his groundmates for the casual way they spoke of losing such vast sums
of money, but it was hard. Despite everything the rest of the Corps seemed to
believe, a Peacemaker of the Eleventh Hjai did not live in luxury. Not a
Peacemaker who abided by the law, anyway. Jer’ait could have made plenty of
money on the side, as an assassin, but he took his Oath to Congress seriously,
unlike many of his peers.
Because of this, Jer’ait
lived a bare existence. He nourished himself with standard Huouyt
nuajan
tubes or nutrient wafers. On Koliinaat, he slept in a tiny cubicle overlooking
a Ueshi restaurant. On Levren, he maintained a small apartment in the
industrial sector. His life savings amounted to two rotations’ wages. And,
with all the political bickering that went on in the Regency, high-ranked
Peacemakers were almost always the first to feel the blow, since Jer’ait and
most of his peers chose to forfeit their salaries during this time so that
their apprentices could eat.
It had been happening so
often of late that Jer’ait considered himself lucky that debtors from Koliinaat
hadn’t yet come to Jeelsiht looking for him. With Rri’jan back to his old
tricks and Bev’kii aligning the Huouyt of Jeelsiht against him, Jer’ait would
have been grateful for the aid. He had, after all, killed a Dhasha prince.
Yet Life was not often
kind, and while a royal Jreet and a newly-rich Baga bickered about their
fortunes, Jer’ait was trying to figure out how to make his next domicile
payment without getting either him or his landlord assassinated in the attempt.
Or without the Human
finding out about his troubles.
“Save your dice for after
dinner,” the Human ordered, giving the Jreet and the Baga hard looks with his
small round eyes. “We all made it out without having to visit the hospital. A
first for any team. This requires a celebration.”
“A feast!” the Jreet
roared. “In honor of our heroes!” Daviin bent, plucked the Baga from the air,
and put him on his shoulder. When he reached for the Human, Joe backed away,
holding his hands in front of him. “No, Daviin, don’t you da—”
The Jreet easily brushed
aside the Human’s arms, then lifted him and set him down on the other
shoulder. Then, when Joe struggled to get down, Daviin forcefully held him
there with a chest-sized hand and turned to scowl at him with his metallic
gaze.
Wisely, the Human
relented and sat.
“
Melaa
for
everyone!” Daviin roared, not losing a beat.
Jer’ait’s face twisted as
he considered eating the Jreet’s fat, bloated cuisine-of-choice. The
pattern-shift that would result from such a venture left him feeling physically
ill. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Me, too,” Joe said.
“But you can eat all the
melaa
you want, Daviin. I’ll go for some
steak.”
Daviin’s face contorted
in confusion. “
Melaa
has steak.”
Jer’ait rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think he understands. Jreet. Your food
sucks.
”
“Have you tried it?”
Daviin demanded, swiveling to face Jer’ait.
“Thank the gods, no.”
“You will try it,” the
Jreet said firmly.
“Maybe later,” Jer’ait
said. “Right now, I have better things to do.”
From Daviin’s shoulder,
Joe’s voice was sharp. “Better than eating with your groundmates?”
“Somebody wants me dead,”
Jer’ait said. “I want to investigate in peace.”
“Eat with us first.”
There was no mistaking his Prime’s tone. It was an order.
“I wish I could,” Jer’ait
said sincerely. “But duty calls.”
Daviin’s metallic gaze
sharpened.
Sensing the Jreet
understood which duties he referred to, Jer’ait bowed and departed before the Human
could order the Sentinel to stop him. He heard the Baga crack a joke after
he’d left, and the others laughed. Jer’ait felt a rush of shame before he
stumbled to a halt, stunned.
You’re letting
yourself get attached to your target. You fool!
He glanced over his
shoulder, watching the rest of his groundmates continue into the city without
him. A part of him longed to be there with them.
He’s bewitched me,
he thought, watching the Human cling uncomfortably to the Jreet’s thick neck as
Daviin continued his sideways slither toward the food court. He shook
himself.
If I don’t kill him, someone else will. At least I have the power
to make it painless.
Jer’ait turned back to
his path. Overseer Bev’kii he could deal with. It was the Peacemaker spy
approaching Joe while Jer’ait was incapacitated that worried him.
Huouyt carry all of
their poisons in their body. There’s only one reason he needed to have
something under his arm.
Jer’ait returned to his
room and locked the door. He took out his personal reader, entered his code,
and called Yua’nev.
“Yes?”
Jer’ait watched his
superior’s eyes, frustrated that he could read nothing behind the glassy,
electric surface.
“You are troubled,
Jer’ait.”
Jer’ait cursed himself
inwardly. Even though Yua’nev’s eyes were mirrors, his own was not. He struggled
to regain his composure.
“I spoke with one of
Jemria’s agents today.”
“Truly?” Yua’nev leaned
toward his reader, interested. “Where?”
“Here on Jeelsiht. I
think the Geuji is helping us defeat the Dhasha. He’s keeping the Jreet heirs
alive when they should be dead.”
Yua’nev snorted. “The
Geuji is only interested in freeing his people. We have the proof of that in
the cellars of Levren. He sent another agent—a true agent, one we believe has
had personal contact with him—to free the Geuji from the basement of the
Academy.”
“And?” Jer’ait asked.
“He’s being interrogated
at this moment.”
Jer’ait cocked his head.
“Ask him if he knows anything about Aez.”
Yua’nev’s electric eyes
remained impassive. “Why?”
“The Geuji works under
several layers of deception. I doubt his intention with Daviin is only to keep
him alive. Further, the
ekhta
that blew up Aez was too hot to be one of
ours. Who else to make one but a Geuji?”
“So he blows up Aez, then
proceeds to help us defeat the Vahlin?” Yua’nev made a dismissive gesture.
“What’s the point of that?”
Jer’ait frowned. “I
don’t know.”
Yua’nev grunted. “It
will be taken into consideration. The Trith did prophesize—”
“Are you sure it was the
Trith?” Jer’ait interrupted.
For a long moment,
Yua’nev did not speak. Then, slowly, he said, “Who else could it have been,
Jer’ait?”
“You said there’s no
supercomputer capable of replicating the Trith message. But what of a Geuji?”
“Are you hearing
yourself?” Yua’nev demanded. “Why would the Geuji send us a warning he was
about to blow up Aez?”
Jer’ait frowned.
Because
he wanted us to do something.
He considered. Just what had they done
differently since receiving the message?
They sent me to kill
Joe.
Jer’ait felt his breath
catch. “Yua’nev, I think he wants the Human dead.”
“And that’s why he keeps
his Sentinel alive.”
Jer’ait opened his mouth,
but hesitated. The fact that Yua’nev knew Daviin had chosen the Human as his
ward bothered him. The Geuji’s involvement bothered him. The Trith and Aez
bothered him.
He could not produce any
answers, so he remained silent.
“It’s an interesting
idea, Jer’ait,” Yua’nev said, once he did not respond, “but the Geuji is not a
god. He’s not all-powerful. Despite the legends, he can’t predict the
future.”
Predict the future.
The phrase tickled something in the back of his head. Who had been predicting
the future? Who seemed to be the only one who knew what the hell was happening
on Neskfaat?
The Dhasha Vahlin.
The truth slammed into
Jer’ait like a runaway freighter.
Looking into Yua’nev’s
eyes, though, Jer’ait didn’t have to be able to read his thoughts to know his
superior wasn’t going to believe him.
They want me to kill
an innocent man.
“By this point, Jer’ait
will have discovered my involvement, at least part of it. He will not
understand why, but he will understand that his commitment to kill Zero is
based on faulty information.”
“That won’t keep him from
killing the Human,” Rri’jan said. The Huouyt had unfolded a metal chair from
the wall and made himself comfortable. “After accepting employment, a Va’gan
kills who he’s told to kill. He won’t ask questions.”
“That’s true. The bond
of trust between a Va’gan and his employer is imperative, else Va’ga would have
no business. Jer’ait is well aware of this.”
“So we replace the Human,”
Rri’jan said. “With who?”
“Rri’jan, as far as our
plans are concerned, it would be better if you didn’t open your mouth. We’ll
have more time if I don’t have to answer stupid questions.”
The Representative’s face
twitched with anger, though his eyes remained unreadable mirrors. “By all
means, Forgotten. Go ahead and enlighten me.”
“I think that’s beyond
the realm of possibility.”
“Try. I must understand
how I am to get my Tribunal seat.”
“Actually, things will
run quite smoothly without you knowing anything at all,” Forgotten said. “The
only reason I tell you is so you know who earned you your reward in the end and
you don’t dismiss it as chance.”
“It is hard to dismiss
Mekkval’s assassination as chance.”
“True. The third crawl
will be harder for all the teams involved. Since about four hundred
groundteams survive the second crawl, we will be left with about eighty after
this one. My two chosen teams will have particular troubles with it.”
“Why?”
“Zero will wake up to
find the mental barrier the medics on Kophat installed during his recruit
training are beginning to fail. Too much time underground in too short a
period. That, and the Dhasha will be using their own weapons against them.”
“I’m confused.”
“Of course you are. But
consider this…Mekkval will not only have Takki in the tunnels with him. We
must train our groundteam to handle all threats, not just Takki.”
Rri’jan’s face furrowed
in irritation. “Dhasha Representatives refuse to have Sentinels. The Jreet
wouldn’t Sentinel for them, even if they were accepted. The two species hate
each other.”
“Why are you so concerned
with the Jreet?”
#
“We soot this up, we’re
screwed. Any questions?”
“Why are we going back?”
Galek cried. “I thought they gave us two weeks. Flea killed a
prince!
”