Balance of Terror (3 page)

“That number is linked to a temporary holding account with Marentim National, coded to your voiceprint. Not very secure, I know, but it’s the best I could come up with on short notice. Playing this chip initiated a transfer of two kilo-credits to that account, but it’ll only be there for twenty standard hours, so don’t hang around for too long before you decide to pick it up.”

“Two kilo-credits,” Moon repeated, her eyebrows rising. Exactly what organisation did Kad belong to? The amount of money he’d named could buy a very nice holiday on an exclusive resort planet and was much more than she had been expecting.

“As part of the process of authenticating you, I’ll get a copy of your voice-print identification, so if you’d like to leave me a message, be my guest. Just be a little careful about what you say. Your next stop is 3 Enkil IV but, to get there, you’ll need to find someone called Gauder. He’s a merchant of various, ah, goods and services. You might not like him very much but he hates the Republic as much as we do and he’s been one of my contacts in that sector for several years now. He’ll guide you to a rendezvous point where there’ll be a ship waiting for you. Use as much of the money as you can to book passage. Don’t act too needy and it shouldn’t cost you and your computer-brain friend more than one and half kilo-credits.”

That was the first mention Kad made of Srin. Moon wondered how the two men would get on once they finally met.

“I can’t tell you where Gauder is because he moves around a lot, but his base of operations is close to where the
Velvet Storm
dropped you off. Use your initiative. I can give you a code-phrase though, that should help smooth things with him. It’s ‘castle-communicator’.”

He smiled and, in his face, Moon saw the young researcher that she’d hired, full of life and energy. She realised she’d missed his company these past few years.

“I know, the phrase sounds ridiculous but that’s the beauty of it.” He sobered. “I’ll find a way to contact you on Enkil IV.” The picture lingered for a second, Kad staring at her with an amused earnestness, then the screen blacked out. Moon didn’t need to see the wisp of smoke emerging from the chip slot to know what happened next. With a clunk, a charred black disc fell into the terminal’s tray.

She’d been right. The next stage of the frantic escape had begun.

Chapter Two

Moon wasn’t sure what she hated most about Marentim. Was it the heat? The chaos? The feeling that everyone around her was trying their best to scam her?

She couldn’t figure it out. She had used some of the money Leen Vazueb had given them on Lunar Fifteen to buy clothes on Marentim. She dressed like a local, spoke the same language as the locals, shopped where locals shopped, and yet she still felt narrowed gazes follow her as she went about her daily business.

The first time she had ventured out into the searing streets was to buy a cheap net-scoop. The seller had looked at her with a cynical gleam in his eye, trying to peddle more expensive versions with as few features as the cheaper models. Moon had been proud of herself, insisting on a basic model with more anonymous, read-only subscriptions to a number of news nets. She had walked away from the shop with her head held high…until she read some promotional material and realised that, while she’d saved money on the scoop, the dealer had charged her double the going price for the subscriptions. She had collapsed into a chair back at her and Srin’s habitat, listening to the man she loved trying to control his spasms in the bedroom, calculating the amount of money she’d lost, and wanting to burst into tears.

“What have we done?” she asked herself.

Life within the Republic’s Science Directorate had been a hedonistic pleasure in comparison to what she faced now. In the past, she never had to worry about what she ate, where she slept, how safe she was. In return, all the Republic had asked for was her soul. Now, her soul was free, but she was racked with anxiety and uncertainty, forced to count every credit. It was difficult to know which was the better option.

Moon felt so weary at that moment, an exhaustion that bit through to her bones. A small part of her had even entertained the idea of turning themselves in to the Security Force. The local office was a mere fifteen-minute shuttle ride away. She was sure she and Srin would have been separated if they surrendered, but at least he would get medical treatment, something that had been beyond her meagre abilities when they first landed on Marentim.

Somehow, she had recovered from that initial sense of crushing depression. It helped when she thought of Hen Savic’s implacable face and the way he’d rationalised drugging a fellow human being for almost twenty years. When she pictured Consul Rosca Moises with her even white teeth, supercilious smile and predator eyes. When she saw the expression of pain and loss in Captain Drue Jeen’s eyes. When she saw the expression of hope on Srin’s face.

It had taken several weeks of painful experience, and a rapidly depleting wallet, but she was handling herself a lot better now. She made sure only to shop for items when other people were shopping for the same thing. Sometimes that meant that she bought fowl instead of hoof meat, or tubers when she had her mind set on fresh greens, but that was a small price to pay. With several people in line, and the person in front of her buying the same kind of item – whether produce or commodities – Moon discovered that she couldn’t be cheated to the same extent as she had been.

She had even cultivated a disinterested half-smile that she used on persistent traders and merchants. The old Moon would have hated such an expression, feigning superiority, but the new Moon didn’t. In fact, she was rather proud of it. She had always considered herself as a straightforward person, nervous with deception and impatient with artifice, but knew that that was a useless trait in her current life. If she and Srin were going to get to Kad, she would have to start developing a protective emotional carapace on Marentim. And the sooner she started, the better.

With the charred disc stashed in a pocket, Moon walked away from the alley of gambling dens and mingled with the slow-moving pedestrian crowd along the main road. Now that she had a name – Gauder – and a destination – 3 Enkil IV – it was time to put the preparation stage of their plan into effect.

When she and Srin had drawn up possible strategies on the
Velvet Storm
– how to find accommodation, what to say if questioned by a Security Force patrol – they had assumed that there would be two people to handle the situations thrown at them. They would do everything as a team. That was the expectation at the beginning of their voyage, when they were still full of exhilaration at escaping the Republic. But, when Srin started to fall ill again, Moon realised that, once more, she would have to bear the brunt of the work, just as she had during their initial escape on Slater’s End.

The first order of business, however, was getting hold of the money Kad had deposited for her.

Moon discarded the burnt communications chip in a rubbish bin far from the public terminal she had used, dodged a small knot of pedestrians, and headed for the closest directory screen. The nearest branch of Marentim National was three blocks away and she walked the distance as briskly as she could, ignoring the growing trickle of sweat that ran down her back. It was barely mid-morning and already the air resembled the interior of a hot oven.

A blast of refrigerated air hit her face as she entered the bank and she almost moaned with relief. Taking time to stretch her tense muscles, she strolled around, revelling in the crisp coolness. The walls were clad in panels of matte silver with faux-timber trims and the bright blue carpet underfoot was so plush, Moon felt as if she was walking on thick sponge. Together with the ornate lighting fixtures, the total effect of the busy foyer was one of ostentation but little taste.

Finally, when she thought her body had temporarily halted expelling sweat through her pores, she headed for the “Information/Reception” sign above a group of four counters. Behind each, holograms of androgynous-looking humanoids flickered.

“May I help you?” the AI asked in several languages, as Moon stepped into its activation range.

Replying as quietly as she could in
ingel
, Moon replied that she needed to make a private withdrawal from an account.

There was a pause while the clerk processed the request, then she was directed to a human at one of the far-right counters.

“May I help you?” the woman asked when Moon approached. The woman’s skin was a dark reddish-brown and it looked exotic in the otherwise blandly corporate surroundings.

Moon repeated her request and provided the account number Kad had given her.

“The account requires voiceprint identification,” the clerk told her, after a quick check. “We have a booth for such use.”

“And is the booth secured?” Moon asked.

Something flashed in the woman’s eyes that could have been affront. “Only the initiator of the transaction receives an encrypted copy of the voiceprint after recording,” she replied stiffly. “We routinely wipe all transactions within microseconds of verification.”

“And you don’t listen to what I’ve recorded?” Moon persisted.

“No
madam
. All I receive is notification on whether the voiceprint was authenticated and funds can be released. Yes or no.”

Moon was scanned before entering the booth and had to leave her personal unit behind. In addition, the booth walls were transparent, making it difficult to fake a recording. Only difficult, not impossible. She wondered where Kad had found a voice clip of hers to act as the authentication sample. Had he been monitoring their work the entire time he’d been at the Phyllis Centre?

The clerk clicked the door shut and motioned for her to start talking whenever she was ready. What should she say?
Thanks for helping us? How many more hoops do I have to jump through before we’re safe? Why the
hell
can’t you come and get us?
She didn’t need Kad’s words to remind her that she had to be careful with what she said.

After some furious thought, she looked up at the low transparent ceiling. “When I see you,” she told the air in a calm voice, “I’m going to wring your neck.”

When she left the booth, Moon was told that she’d passed the verification. The clerk initiated the transfer and watched her with a speculative gleam in her eye. Something about the woman’s demeanour was discomfiting. Did she know Moon was on the run and was only waiting for a free moment so she could call the authorities? Or maybe there was someone waiting outside the bank, the clerk’s accomplice, ready and prepared to mug any customer with fat cash in her hands?

Both women remained silent.

A muted ping indicated that the transfer had been completed and the clerk’s gaze dropped to the credit disc. She slid it across the counter, watching it with a sharp gaze that reminded Moon of a raptor bird watching a scurrying mouse. A moment later, Moon took the disc – the top of it still warm from the clerk’s brief handling – and slipped it into a small pocket attached to her personal unit. She was now in receipt of two kilo-credits and a growing sense of unease.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” the woman asked with an over-bright smile.

“Is there a bathroom here?” Moon suddenly asked.

The clerk pointed towards her left. “Follow the sign to ‘Private Investments’. You should see an arrow to the facilities there.”

With a nod, Moon thanked her, and headed in the direction she was given. However, when she was sure the clerk’s attention was on a new customer, Moon suddenly changed direction, headed for a side-entrance and slipped out into the pedestrian traffic.

Maybe she was being paranoid. Maybe the woman was just wondering what Moon was going to do with two kilo-credits. Whatever the reason, Moon wasn’t taking any chances. She stopped at a nearbythrift shop, bought a cheap shirt to change into and released the tight bun of her hair, finger-combing the chocolate-brown tresses so they flowed over her shoulders and helped obscure her face. Only then did she head back to Srin and the relative safety of their quarters.