City of Pearl (27 page)

“This is a joint mission of the Federal European Union Foreign Office, the Confederation of European Industry and the Sinostates consortium.”

“And you're FEU Navy? A warship?”

“Someone's got to drive. No commercial sponsorship, no warships.”

“My. We
have
been away a long time, haven't we?”

There was a pause. If Okurt was offended by her tone, he wasn't about to let her know. “We've had contact from what appears to be the wess'har government, so we're aware of the local difficulties in this sector. We'll be keeping a low profile for the time being. When we get clearance for landing a shuttle, are there any supplies you need?”

“I don't think you're going to be landing here any time soon. Didn't the isenj explain the situation to you?”

A pause. A very long pause.
Gotcha,
Shan thought. Okurt could now sweat over how she knew he had been communicating with the isenj.

“I understand they don't enjoy good diplomatic relations with the wess'har,” he said at last.

“I might like to evacuate my people if you're minded to head out of wess'har space. Just to be on the safe side.”

“How many are we talking about?”

“Anywhere between twelve and one thousand.”

“Say again?”

“There's a colony here.”

“We have nowhere near that capacity.”

Shan consoled herself with the thought that the colonists would not leave anyway. It was just a test question, a copper's trick. “Can you accommodate seven military personnel and seven civilians, then?”

“We can do that.” He had probably dismissed her request as self-interest. She didn't need to explain herself. “Thank you for your advice, Superintendent. It's very helpful indeed. We'll stand off and await your evacuation plans.”

“
Thetis
out,” said Shan.

She nodded at Bennett and he closed the link. The three of them looked at each other. “So what salient points did he leave out?” she asked.

Lindsay folded her hands over her belly. “Well, if I were
Actaeon
, I'd probably say why I'd come twenty-five light-years—to rescue, to explore, whatever. They weren't just passing by.”

“He had no reason to assume we were lost or dead, either, seeing as nobody would have been expecting to receive transmissions from us for twenty-five years after landing. They're not here for a rescue.”

“I note you didn't ask Okurt that.”

“I didn't need to. It's an industry mission, and he's just the chauffeur. Besides, I always found out more from what suspects omitted to tell me than anything else.” Now she took a gamble: Lindsay would find out about the isenj comms link soon enough. She would rather she heard it from her. “If you had the ability to send instantaneous messages to Earth, no time delay, pronto, would you mention that when you made contact?”

Lindsay and Bennett stared at her. After seventy-five years neither had anyone at home who might be waiting for a call. But it was potential contact with home regardless, and it had enormous emotional meaning beyond the scientific amazement value.

“I hope I've understood you correctly,” Lindsay said. “If they can do that, why didn't they flash us before they left? Now that's spooky.”

“It's not their tech. It's isenj.”

“I get the feeling we haven't been invited to the party,” said Bennett. Shan wasn't sure if he was referring to
Actaeon
's withholding of information or to hers.

“What do we tell the payload?” Lindsay asked.

Shan shrugged. “Tell them the truth.”

“And have you told us everything you know, ma'am?” Lindsay asked.

“No,” Shan said.

“Do you want to elaborate on that?”

“No. I've told you everything you need to know to stay alive. The rest wouldn't help you one bit—far from it in fact. I said I'd get you back in one piece and I meant it.”

“What about the gene bank?” asked Bennett. “Shouldn't we be making arrangements to get that shipped out now?”

Shan ran her finger over the console and wiped a trail through the sand-colored dust, briefly distracted by poor housekeeping and wondering why a bored payload didn't get on with some cleaning duties. “I won't be handing anything over to any government that has to work that closely with corporations,” she said. “It's one more thing Perault didn't bargain on when she briefed me.”

It was hard to blow out a mission that had taken her on what was effectively a one-way trip. Home seemed to have vanished. She now had no idea what she was going to do with that gene bank. Maybe leaving it with the wess'har was the most prudent option. The only thing she knew for certain at that moment was that the matriarchs could be trusted not to misuse it.

“Time we got going, ma'am,” said Bennett. “While we've still got the light. Wouldn't want Dr. Rayat and Dr. Galvin to fall into a bog, would we?”

“Wouldn't we?” said Shan.

It was mid July, just hinting at autumn, and the bonecolored
efte
trees were still four meters high and sprouting great silver plumes of sticky floss that trapped unwary flyers. Even creatures the size of
alyats
and handhawks avoided flying too close. It was hard to think that those trees, seeming solid as the Earth oaks in the colony, would shrivel to nothing in weeks and leave a flat terrain scattered with sheet upon sheet of dead bark and fiber. Autumn was papermaking time for the colony.
Efte
was even more useful than hemp, strong enough to be felted and formed into laminate.

It was an annual routine Aras didn't want to see interrupted. He checked the charge indicator on his
gevir,
not wholly at ease with using a firing weapon again. Wess'har didn't forget what they learned. He feared a little human fallibility had crept up on him.

“Will the isenj be able to track us?” Shan asked.

“I hope so,” said Aras. “I want this settled.”

They were walking with Bennett and Qureshi along the wake of the missing scientists, detectable by the recently crushed groundcover that showed up as a bright track on Bennett's bioscreen. The marine had a device just behind his ear that he tapped every so often before checking the readout on his palm. His battle-dress danced with broken gray-blue patterns of camouflage. And even to an isenj's senses, he would appear the same temperature as everything around him. Aras thought that was a clever touch.

“You have implants,” Aras said.

Bennett tapped his device again. “They're crap. I ought to be able to see that track up here.” He indicated his eyes. “Organic head-up display. But it's so unreliable I've got to view it on the repeater here. God bless defense procurement.”

“And you serve royalty?”

“Haven't had a monarchy anywhere in Europe for centuries, sir. Royal is just a very old title. We like tradition in the services.”

“Don't even try to work it out,” said Shan. “Come on, Ade, they can't have got that far. Not carrying their gear.”

“They could be ten kay from the camp by now.”

“They'll be in the bloody sea, then.”

“Well, at least we haven't come across any body parts yet. That's always a good sign.”

Aras wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. “
Alyats
don't leave any debris from their kills. Nor do
sheven
or
esjen
. They envelop and absorb
everything
.”

His comment silenced them. Shan kept close to Aras. He found that rather touching: he needed no protection. But she did. She put a great deal of faith in her ballistic vest, but it was only designed to stop human weapons—a knife or a bullet. He had no idea if it would stop an isenj projectile.

“Bugger,” said Bennett.

He stopped and tapped his implant again.

“What is it?” asked Shan.

“Looks like someone drove an industrial floor polisher through here. Either that, or it's vehicle tracks.”

“Show me,” said Aras.

Bennett held out his hand and Aras adjusted his perspective to the multicolor 3D representation of the landscape.
Champciaux's geophys scan, showing where Mjat had once stood and then fallen at his hand.
Two broken lines of regular swirling patterns snaked into the tracks of Rayat and Galvin at an angle, then the walkers' traces ended. It was a good guess for someone who had never seen isenj transport before.

“I hate to jump to conclusions, but I reckon Rayat and Galvin either got a lift from the isenj or were taken by them,” said Shan. “And neither scenario fills me with confidence.”

Bennett and Qureshi glanced at each other.

“Let's follow the tracks, then, shall we, ma'am?” said Qureshi. “Or would you rather we waited for backup?”

Aras considered the possibility that the isenj had chanced across the two
gethes
and decided they would make excellent bait for him. He had no intention of disappointing them, and he wanted no more of Shan's group to put themselves at risk.

“We go on,” he said.

 

Lindsay heaved herself into the seat at the comms console and answered the hail from
Actaeon.
On the screen was the image of Okurt's second in command, Nichol Valiet, a lieutenant who didn't look much older than Becken.

“
Thetis,
officer commanding,” she said wearily.

“Sorry, ma'am. Did I disturb you?”

“No, just a heavy day.” He probably hadn't realized she was pregnant. Of course: he couldn't see her from the chest down. “Go ahead.”

“Is Superintendent Frankland available?”

“No. She's gone off camp after a couple of the payload who've broken curfew.”

“What curfew?”

“Ours. What did you want her for?”

“I just wanted to check where she was. This is an awkward subject to broach, ma'am, but we've had a communication from Dr. Rayat.”

“Yeah, that's one of the morons who decided to go walkabout during an armed incursion. How the hell did he manage to flash you up?”

“He relayed his message from an isenj mobile unit. He's with them.”

Oh, God. Get off the link. I need to tell Shan before this goes pear-shaped.
“And?”

Valiet lapsed into silence. He was way out of his depth; Okurt should have called her himself. Lindsay used the trick she had learned from Eddie, the sleight of hand worked by simple silence. She waited. It was much harder than it looked.

“He's made some disturbing allegations about Frankland and we just wanted to verify some facts with you,” said Valiet. Silence was pretty effective. Lindsay was getting used to wielding it. She waited and he went on. “Dr. Rayat claims your skipper killed one of your party, Surendra Parekh.”

“Rayat hasn't been entirely comfortable with the restrictions placed on him by the indigenous government.”

“Is he lying?”

“Dr. Parekh was executed under local law for causing the death of an alien child.” She had, hadn't she? It had been so clear-cut at the time, so completely wrong, and so utterly important that the native species was appeased. Now that she was being lulled back into the Earth way of doing things, Lindsay had a brief pang of doubt. It dissipated almost at once. “You should understand that the rules are very different here. You're under wess'har sovereignty. Forget that, and you're really going to get a nasty surprise.”

“If Superintendent Frankland has exceeded her authority, we
will
have to take action against her, you realize that, don't you?”

That was her boss he was talking about. You rallied to your commander. You rallied to your
friend
. “If you try messing with Frankland, you'll have to answer to me, so realize
that
.” The poker face and silent trap were thrown aside: this bastard needed to understand he would have to take them all on if he wanted Shan. “You have absolutely no jurisdiction here. If you think for one minute that you do, you're endangering every one of us—and that includes my child. So keep your nose out of this, Lieutenant.”

Lindsay hadn't planned to drop her guard. But Shan was the pack leader, the alpha female. Nobody had the right to criticize her for doing what she needed to do to avoid disaster, least of all some jumped-up lieutenant who had never even set foot on this complex world.

“Child?”

“I'm pregnant. And no, don't even try to exchange pleasantries with me. Give me Rayat's last known position. It might seem smart to make friends with the isenj from where you are, but we're about twenty kay from a wess'har garrison.”

“We have orders not to cause offense to the isenj, ma'am.”

“I'd be more worried about causing offense to Superintendent Frankland if I were you, or the wess'har, whichever gets hold of you first.”

“Ma'am, can I request that you file your official report on the incident now? You've logged one, haven't you? It's regulation.”

“You can discuss it directly with Superintendent Frankland when she returns.” She wasn't going to get the position out of Valiet. No matter: Rayat had probably moved on by now, and the booties could track him with or without the information. She switched topics to disguise just how keen she was to avoid discussing Parekh. “Now, if you want to make yourselves useful, Eddie Michallat from BBChan wants to know if you can set up an interview down the line with the isenj, seeing as you're such good friends.”

“Isenj. Yes. They even have an interpreter who can speak English.” Valiet affected sudden chatty good humor, although his voice said otherwise. “It looks like a mongoose and the isenj look like—well, a pile of spiders. Is that what's known as good TV?”

“Eddie would probably like a real-time link as well, seeing as you've been so kind as to mention you have one.”

“Okay. We'll patch through the links. Have a good day.”

Lindsay keyed the end command. “Bastard,” she said.

Eddie had gone walkabout again and he wasn't answering his comms link. Vani Paretti happened to be the closest to hand on the way to the mess hall. Lindsay caught his arm. “Could you tell Eddie his audience awaits? Or at least his interview link-up. He'll have to negotiate the rest himself.”

“Feeling all right?”

“That tosser Rayat made contact with the isenj and he's using their comms link.”

“I hope he's not transmitting data home—”

“Don't. Just
don't.
I'm not in the mood.”

Lindsay walked out into the compound and looked up to gauge the thickening clouds overhead. It had started to spit with fine rain, and that usually meant a heavy downpour wasn't far behind.

She wondered whether she should get Becken and Barencoin to have a word with Rayat in their highly persuasive way when Shan brought him back.
Foul little shit,
she thought. It was a cowardly, sniveling thing to do to whine to the
Actaeon
about Shan. It was almost a shame that the ship had shown up. Rayat could so easily have been dealt with and nobody would have been any the wiser.

The violence of the thought caught her unawares. Bezer'ej had changed her; Shan had changed her. She understood now why sometimes you had to bend the rules, and wondered why they had never taught her that at the naval academy.

She checked her bioscreen and alerted Qureshi and Bennett. She didn't fancy being in Rayat's shoes when Shan found out what he'd done.

 

Ceret—Cavanagh's Star—was setting. Aras judged that they had a half-hour of good visibility left, and he wondered if the marines' implant-enhanced vision could cope with low light as well as his eyes could. Time would tell. He walked in Qureshi's wake. Bennett marked a zigzag path between
efte
trees ahead of them, staring ahead to pick up images.

He stopped and glanced down at his palm. “Six-fifty meters, dead ahead. Significant cluster of targets.”

“How many?” said Aras.

“Eight, nine.”

Aras checked his
gevir
again. He had come to kill isenj. Most of the landing party was probably ahead of him and that meant he had to locate the others soon afterwards. It was more than his responsibility towards the bezeri. He wanted to send a clear message: he was still here and he would deal with them as he had dealt with Mjat.

“Whoa there,” said Shan. “This is my shout.”

She gave Bennett a look that made him fall in behind her and went striding ahead. Aras decided that if she put herself in danger he would have to intervene even if it offended her. She didn't know isenj at all.

She disappeared among the
efte
but he could still hear her boots brushing through undergrowth bent flat by the isenj vehicle. The sound stopped. Qureshi glanced at Bennett and they both took a more positive grip on their rifles. Then they caught up with Shan and saw what she had seen.

Aras had forgotten how very odd an isenj would look to a human. They weren't remotely humanoid; a
gethes
would have mistaken them for what they considered an animal. But these isenj stood clustered round their small vehicle, crossbow-like weapons in their oddly jointed arms, and Rayat and Galvin were sitting on the equivalent of the running board. They looked simply bewildered.

Shan indicated
stop
with a carefully extended arm. “Let me see if I can talk to them,” she said. “They must be able to understand us if Rayat talked them into linking him up to
Actaeon.
”

“We're right here, remember,” said Bennett. Aras could smell that acid human tension rolling off him, but he showed no outward signs of fear. Neither he nor Qureshi had quite taken aim, but their readiness to fire would be visible even to an isenj. Aras hoped their weapons were accurate in this gravity. All his instincts told him to shoot now. He couldn't understand why Shan felt the need for discussion.

She stopped fifteen meters in front of the vehicle.

“I command this group,” she said. “Are you holding my people?”

There was a long pause. An answer came, but it was from some communications kit in the vehicle, the small raspy voice of a ussissi interpreter relayed from some remote station. “We have talked with them. We have no argument with men and women.”

“Then perhaps Dr. Rayat and Dr. Galvin can come back to camp with me.”

Qureshi reached in the pockets of her webbing, took out a hand-sized round object and began attaching it slowly and quietly to her weapon. “Might need to take out that vehicle,” she whispered to Aras. “If we can get Rayat and Galvin clear, that is. It's times like this you wish Frankland was wired so we could direct her.”

The isenj had moved forward. Rayat got up. Galvin looked afraid, her gaze darting from isenj to isenj. Shan stood calmly and clasped her hands behind her back.