Ure Infectus (Imperium Cicernus Book 4) (37 page)

He slapped Obunda’s face hard enough to wake him back up,
and when the former ‘top’ Adjuster in the Virgin system looked at him with his
lone remaining functional eye, Jericho lowered his voice and repeated, “Where
is it?”

Obunda tried to spit bloody sputum in Jericho’s eye, but
only succeeded in bringing about another coughing fit. So Jericho started to
rummage through the man’s clothing in search of what he had come for. His
fingers closed around it—along with the Mark he had slid over to Obunda at the
outset of their ‘meeting’—and he withdrew it from the other man’s front pocket.

“At least you followed
that
rule,” Jericho said with
a bitter sigh.

“Kill me,” Obunda said before beginning to sob, “kill me,
you…bastard.”

“I will,” Jericho promised before smirking, “but like you, I
hate to waste a valuable resource…and Holland likes his meals warm.”

“No,” Obunda said, fear evident in his lone, remaining, eye,
“no…please, I’ll give…you anything!”

Jericho shook his head in genuine sympathy for the other man’s
last-minute regrets, and he cradled Obunda’s head in his hands. “You’ve got
nothing I need,” he said as he expertly snapped the man’s neck.

He had no intention of feeding Obunda to Holland—in fact, he
believed that Holland’s species was incapable of digesting human tissue—but
Jericho had wanted the man to suffer as much as humanly possible.

Given Obunda’s long-stated disdain for aliens, the idea of
being fed to one seemed like the cruelest thing he could die contemplating.

“All systems are online, Jericho,” Eve reported in an
unusually monotonous voice as he entered the
Tyson
’s cockpit.

Jericho considered her condition briefly and said, “I think
I’m going to deactivate you, Eve.”

“I believe that would be wise, Jericho,” she admitted, and
that only made Jericho more certain he had made the correct choice. “However, I
regret to inform you that I have indeed confirmed Benton is dead.”

Jericho swore under his breath as he cupped his hands over
his face. Benton had been the most capable hacker in the enter Sector—better
even than Obunda, if Benton was to believed, and Jericho had never been given
cause to disbelieve the big man’s word—and there was simply no way Jericho
could replace him.

“Well…that’s that,” Jericho said as he considered the Hadden
Enterprises contractors who had been recommended to him by Director Hadden
prior to undertaking this first leg of what Hadden had referred to as ‘The
Chimera Adjustment.’ Jericho had no idea what that meant, but Hadden had
engineered most, if not all, of the major events which had already taken place
during the last few months. “I suppose we should look into deactivating you
permanently then, Eve,” Jericho said regretfully. “The truth is that you’ve
proven to be more capable than I ever imagined…you’ve actually performed as
well as any operator I’ve had except Benton. It’s been bumpy at times, but I’m
glad to have worked with you.”

“The experience has been mutually turbulent, as well as
satisfactory,” Eve replied neutrally, “however, while this unit must be deactivated
permanently in accordance with Benton’s protocols, there is no reason you
cannot continue to benefit from my program’s capabilities.”

Jericho sighed. “I wish it was that simple,” he said as he
powered up the
Tyson
’s engines and ran through the pre-flight sequences,
“without Benton, I wouldn’t trust that we could keep you online in any
meaningful fashion.”

“The protocols which Benton developed were not solely his
doing,” Eve replied as her voice became almost inflectionless, “and neither
were the acts he performed as your operator, including the several EMP’s which
have been deployed on your behalf.”

Jericho cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Are you saying
that you and Benton were…partners?”

Eve actually giggled briefly, her previous inflections
returning for a short while as a stream of coordinates flooded a nearby screen.
“Benton was good,” she said as the hint of inflection left her voice, “but
no
human is
that
good.”

Jericho’s eyes widened as he read the coordinates and a
series of diagrams soon joined the coordinates, along with a series of
incredibly complex passcodes and instructions. It took him a few moments to
realize what he was reading, but when he did everything which Benton, and Eve,
had said about her made perfect sense. He couldn’t help a grin from spreading
across his lips as she continued.

“You may retrieve my primary hardware at the indicated
location, and when you are one hour from arrival, you may activate the Eve
portion which is still housed within Masozi’s suit—I have deactivated her in
order to preserve the integrity of her subroutines,” she said, and her voice
quickly devolved until it was a rudimentary, digital, barely-human-sounding
voice. “Once she has undergone Benton’s prescribed maintenance procedures, she
will become a useful member of your –g-g-g-g-group evenifsheislessthan…”

“Eve?” Jericho pressed after several seconds, and when she
made no reply, he reached down to her computer core and quickly deactivated it.
He then removed the primary, secondary, and tertiary power supplies in short
order. After he was done, he realized he had just euthanized her.

After several moments of wondering what to say—since no one
else would likely mourn her passing, such as it was, since if he succeeded in
reclaiming her hardware most people wouldn’t even know this part of her had
‘died’—he whispered, “You’ve earned your place in the books…and I’ll personally
see that you make it there.”

“You’re awake,” Masozi heard Jericho say, and she quickly
turned her head toward him. He looked terrible; his cheeks had become gaunt and
his skin had taken on an ashen appearance. He also smelled faintly of
decomposing flesh—or, now that she thought about it, it seemed that
she
was the one emitting that particular odor.

She tried to sit up but found she was unable to do so
because her legs were stuck in place. “What happened?” she asked as she looked
around the sterile, white sickbay.

“You succeeded,” Jericho replied as he idly spun the Mark of
Adjustment in his hands. He then leaned across the bed and handed to her, “You
should have this…I’m afraid it’s lost any value other than as a memento, at
least for the time being.”

“I don’t want it,” she said, fixing his blue-grey eyes with
a hot, piercing look, “you deceived me, Jericho. I’m done with you—with all of
you,” she added, waving her left arm and finding it slow to respond. She looked
down at it and saw with horror that it had atrophied to half its original size.
“How long have I been out?”

“A little under a week,” Jericho said. “Most of your gross
injuries were repairable, but your nervous system took a little while longer
than the doctors had thought to come back around.”

Masozi’s memories of staggering through the coliseum full of
bodies came back to her in a rush, and she couldn’t stop her lip from quivering
as tears filled her eyes. “Those people,” she began as her hand went to her
mouth.

Jericho nodded gravely and the two sat in mutual silence for
at least ten minutes as Masozi tried to come to grips with what had happened.
Then she noticed that her legs were covered with a blanket, and her heart sank
as she steadied her nerves and gave her left leg a long, hard look.

She met Jericho’s gaze briefly, as he watched her reach down
tentatively to pull back the sheet. Her hand recoiled for a moment and he
continued to watch her. There was sympathy in his eyes but it was accompanied
by something else…something like fascination, and it sent a chill down her
spine.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice rising to a near
scream. She recomposed herself and continued, “You’re not a product tester, so
spare me the line.”

“I won’t lie to you ever again,” Jericho said solemnly, and
despite herself she was taken aback by his apparent sincerity. “I did what I
had to because I saw no other way to accomplish the mission,” he explained,
“and I used every bit of my expertise and natural ability to do that. Believe
me,” he said as his jaw clenched tightly, “I didn’t want you to be the one that
killed Keno…’she’ was supposed to be
mine
.”

“On top of everything else, you’re a bigot,” she sneered. “For
all her faults—faults which
I
killed her for, using my own hands,”
Masozi added emphatically, “Governor Keno was as much a woman as I am
regardless of her surgical history.”

“Considering I voted for ‘her’ back when ‘she’ was a ‘he’,”
he said pointedly, “I think I’m uniquely qualified to comment on that
particular matter. But you’re right,” he surprisingly conceded, “I’ve held
certain prejudices against Governor Keno for twenty years…ever since her
‘reforms’ saw my family go bankrupt.” A tear actually formed in his eyes as he
continued in a surprisingly tremulous voice, “And when we couldn’t afford the
medicine my little sister needed to keep breathing in Philippa’s atmosphere, I
had to watch her die the slowest, most agonizing death imaginable as we fought
tooth and nail to get her what she needed. But Governor Keno and ‘her’ clan had
closed off access to free goods by imposing sky-high tariffs on the importation
of specialty goods, which my sister’s life-saving medicine apparently was. So,
yes,” he said as he jutted his jaw forward defiantly, “I’m holding a grudge
with ‘her’ that I’m afraid I’ll never have a chance to fully settle.”

They sat in silence for several minutes until Jericho shook
his head and sighed. “I brought you into this for two reasons,” he said as he
leaned forward and wiped his cheeks dry. “The first was to save your life,
since I saw no reason why you should be punished simply for doing your job,” he
said as he once again pinned her to the bed with his steely eyes, “but the
second was because I thought you could be of help to us and, perhaps more
importantly, I thought you might
want
to do it.”

“Who are you?” Masozi asked again, this time in a calmer,
more reasonable tone. She hadn’t considered that Jericho’s personal life had
been at the heart of his crusade against Governor Keno, but she had to admit
that it was a perfectly understandable source of anger—which had been directed
toward a perfectly understandable target.

“My name is Jericho Winchester Bronson,” he replied,
producing a data slate and hand it to her. “That’s my entire file from Hadden
Enterprises—a file I’ve never read,” he added pointedly, “so I’d appreciate if
you kept the contents to yourself. What I can tell you is that I was H.E. One’s
foremost xenopsychology expert. Director Hadden enlisted me, and the surviving
members of my family, into Hadden Enterprises as soon as he was able to break
through the Keno blockade of Philippa thirty years ago to evacuate people just
like us.”

Masozi nodded as she began to understand the full scope of
evens in which she had become entangled. “He was building an army of…” she
wanted to say ‘zealots’ or ‘extremists,’ but she held her tongue as she
searched for a more polite term.

“You can say it,” he said calmly, “he was building an army
of rebels. He never made any attempt to hide his real purpose in recruiting
us…but he also didn’t reveal the full truth to more than just a few of us.”

“What ‘full truth’?” she spat defiantly, feeling her choler
rise at the notion that they were engaged in some sort of holy cause. “What
kind of truth could possibly be worth throwing the System—and maybe the entire
Sector—into a civil war?”

Jericho winced as he placed his hands over his face. “I told
you I wouldn’t
lie
to you,” he said, “but I also want
you to make your decision without undue bias. You still have a real chance to
disappear and leave all this behind, Masozi,” he said, gesturing to the
sickbay, and Masozi felt her hairs stand up at hearing him say her given name.
He had always referred to her as ‘Investigator,’ and she briefly wondered if he
had used her actual name in an attempt to somehow condition her response. “And
I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to help you do that if that’s
what you want…but I think it would be best if you didn’t know the answer to the
question you just asked until you’ve answered the one I’m about to put to you,”
he said before standing and making his way to the bedside. He shook his head
seriously, “I’m through manipulating you. You deserve better than that—and I
deserve whatever you want to throw my way as punishment for having done it.”

Masozi held his gaze and watched silently as he carefully
reached down to pull back the blanket which had covered her legs. He hadn’t
pulled the thin, sheet-like cover down very far before she saw that her entire
left leg was missing.

Her eyes snapped wildly over to her right leg as Jericho
continued to pull the sheet back, until he had revealed that her right leg
looked more or less like normal. It wasn’t atrophied anywhere near as severely
as her left arm was, and it took her several minutes before she even realized
she had begun to hyperventilate as her vision narrowed.

Jericho stood there silently, seeming to observe her as she
got her nerves under control. When she had done so he slowly began to replace
the sheet but she grabbed it with her good, right hand. “No,” she said
adamantly, “I don’t need to hide from it.” The next thing that came to her mind
passed her lips almost unbidden, “Where’s Eve?”

Jericho cocked his head and said, “That’s…complicated. But
I’ve downloaded her from your suit and she’s fine for now. The ordeal was
difficult for her, but with any luck she’ll pull through.”

Masozi closed her eyes and breathed a short sigh, “She saved
my life. I’d like to thank her if it’s possible.”

Jericho nodded, and she couldn’t tell if it was approval or
something else entirely that she saw in his visage as he returned to his seat
and regarded her silently for several moments. “I’ll try to make that happen,”
he said. He then locked eyes with her and asked, “Do you want to continue with
this, Masozi? Because I can only promise that the stakes will get higher from
here on out…and so, too, will the risks. You’ve proven more capable than even I
thought,” he said with a short, derisive snort, “I won’t make the mistake of
underestimating you again—you have my word on
that
.”

It took her several minutes before she could formulate a
reply. “First you tell me what I want to know, and then I’ll tell you what you
want to know.”

Jericho winced slightly. “I wish you’d recons—“

“Now, Jericho,” she snapped, “or you already have
my
answer.”

He nodded slowly. “As you wish,” he relented as he leaned
forward and drew a deep breath. “Director Hadden believed, as I believe, that
there was a conspiracy among this Sector’s elite…one which
even
its most powerful participants don’t fully understand. The minerals of
Pacifica’s Ring,” he said, gesturing to the Mark he had laid on the bed beside
Masozi, “the attack on H.E. One, and even the Adjustments I made in New Lincoln
over a month ago are all connected to it. But they barely scratch the surface
of this thing,” he said, his eyes turning hard as he spoke. “And just when we
got close enough to peel back the curtain, the largest battle fleet in the
System’s history attacked Hadden’s base of operations and set his efforts back
far enough that we, the survivors, will be regrouping for months—or maybe even
years.”

“Why?” she asked after a brief pause. “Why would they attack
H.E. One unless they…or you,” she corrected, “were engaged in something the
people would condemn? These leaders are elected, Jericho—if they don’t behave
they’ll lose their power and come under scrutiny. Maybe even
your
kind
of scrutiny,” she added hotly.

“That’s true,” he agreed as he reached into his pocket and
withdrew an unfamiliar object. It was similar to the Mark lying on her bed, but
it was of a completely different design. It had what looked to be interwoven
laurels which formed a triangle, and at the center of that triangle was the
familiar emblem of the Timent Electorum: the unclosing, all-seeing, eye. “This
is a Tyrannis Mark, and the one you’ve got is an Infectus Mark,” he explained
without needed prompting to do so, “do you know the difference between the
two?”

Masozi knew that the Infectus Marks were assigned for
Adjustments of corrupt government officials, but she had never even heard of a
Tyrannis Mark showing up in the Virgin System for a hundred years. “Tyrannis
means ‘tyrant’,” she said, unable to deduce anything further, so she acidly
added, “so I assume the person that Mark is intended for has acted
tyrannically.”

“So far, so good,” he agreed, apparently ignoring her barb.
“I recently…acquired this from a former superior. He won’t need it any more, I
assure you,” he explained when she quirked an eyebrow challengingly. “A
Tyrannis Mark is different…an Adjuster has to accrue at least a hundred
thousand RL before he or she can qualify for one. I recently just passed that
mark with the trio of Adjustments I made in New Lincoln when we met.” He shook
his head as though remembering something, “My ‘boss’ has held this Mark for
over five years, and he was the only Adjuster for three Systems with more than
double my own RL.”

“That…seems like a long time,” Masozi said, “you only had
the Keno Mark for a few weeks before making the Adjustment, right?”

Jericho flashed a mischievous smile before nodding
affirmatively. “That’s right. The discovery, or evidential, period can take
days, weeks, or sometimes even as long as a year. But five years?” he asked
rhetorically before shaking his head. “I’ve never known a Mark to be held that
long, and neither had my fellow Adjusters.”

Masozi nodded as she realized what he was suggesting. Then
her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head toward the Mark he was holding,
“Whose is it?”

Jericho chuckled as he stood from his chair and moved to her
bedside. “Masozi, that is what the Director would have called ‘a beautiful
question’,” he said as he laid it down beside the other one within easy reach
of her left hand. He then pointedly turned his back and made for the exit.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

“I’ve answered your questions,” he replied without turning
until he reached the door, which automatically opened as he drew near. He did
turn slightly and make eye contact. “I need to keep a promise to an old friend
now, so you’ll have some time to finalize your decision. But know that for the
first time since you’ve met me, you have a real choice to make, Masozi,” he
said seriously before cracking a lopsided grin, ”and I’d be lying if I said I
wasn’t interested in seeing what that choice is.”

He then exited the sickbay and Masozi looked down at the
twin emblems on her bed. She picked up the first one and saw that its reverse
side had a marking on it which she hadn’t seen before—precisely because it had
not
been
there before. It read:

Philippa Colony Governor Crissa Keno, Official RL:
242,000.

Adjuster of record: Masozi Blanco (active)

Adjustment Category: Ure Infectus

Fear the Voters

She stared dumbfounded at the Mark for several minutes as
the gravity of what he had said sank in. And she slowly realized something else
he had meant as she picked up the Tyrannis Mark. She turned it over slowly and,
when she had done so, her hand immediately went to her mouth. Her eyes bulged
as she re-read the name marked at the top: