She swallowed. “I agreed to think about it.”
“Are you? Thinking about it?”
The surprising heat and strength in his arm. His scent. Black eyes, up close, watching her.
“Yes,” she said honestly.
Devlin drew in a deep, deep breath and let it out slowly. He was smiling. “Good.” He nodded toward the glare of the sun shining through the filtered glass. “They’re saying that the spin will create a rotation that lasts around sixteen hours. That means there will be two days and a night, then two nights and a day, for every standard galactic day. This is a unique opportunity to party for days on end and live to tell the tale.”
“The party has already started,” Catherine pointed out. By the time she had extricated herself from the Central City, the bars and restaurants were already in full swing, with music drifting out from many of them. People were walking around with drinks in their hands, or standing and watching the novelty of the sun move across the dome and the shadows crossing their hands.
She had been too angry to even consider having a drink with any of the endless number of people who had begged her to stay and drink with them. There were so many people she knew here in Charlton, still. She had refused all the invitations, intent on catching up with Devlin, who had returned to the
Hana
as soon as the formalities had ended.
“I’m not in the mood for drinking,” she added and straightened up. She made herself look at Devlin directly. “Thank you for your honesty.”
His gaze was steady. “You prefer the truth, no matter how it hurts. I’ve learned that much about you, at least.”
“I do,” she agreed. “Which is why I’ve been able to stay on the
Hana
for ten years.”
His smile faded. “I take your warning to heart. It won’t happen again, Catherine. Not until you want it, too.”
She repressed her instinctive response. “Well…”
“Good night, Catherine,” he said quietly.
She got herself out of the boardroom and to her quarters and the door locked before she let herself think. She sat on the bed and looked at the bare walls. Despite threatening to do something with them, weeks ago, she still had not brought herself around to even consulting with the environmental AI.
Now she was glad of the bareness. It wasn’t raw plasteel, but it was blank bulkhead and just as barren.
* * * * *
Yennifer sipped at the last of the Soward champagne at the bottom of her glass and hid her grimace. She had taken so long to empty the glass that the last dregs were warm and flat.
Nichol dropped into the chair beside her and gripped her hand. His eyes were shining and his face glowing with the joy of victory. He had been publically vindicated today, as the man who had campaigned for daylight for everyone and had won. He had been drinking, which was only natural.
“We’re going to have dinner with Symon and Levi,” he told her. “They say the sun will set in about thirty minutes and it will be dark across Central City for the first time. Symon has a table at
Vivaldi’s
, on the balcony. We can watch the sun set from there.”
Vivaldi’s
was on the top tier of Central City, one of the upmarket dining locations in the city. She could see the balcony from the window of the bar they were in. The view of the dome from
Vivaldi’s
was unobstructed.
Symon and Levi were the mayor of Beltane and the Reeve of Gantry, respectively. They were also heavy drinkers and Levi had a wandering hand.
“I was thinking I would go home,” Yennifer said, picking her words with care. “I’m very tired.” Which was perfectly true. Coordinating city-wide processes while staying in her human mind was draining. Normally, for such a complicated project, she would have withdrawn into the city systems and used purely digital processes, while letting her body rest. Yet it had been important to Devlin that she be seen on the stage while she did the work. She had understood the reasoning and even agreed with it, but now she was exhausted.
“Home?” Nichol said sharply. “You’re joking, right? You’re going to bale on me, on this, the most important night of my career?”
She swallowed. “I have a headache. A bad one. Bedivere explained that if I stress myself too much right now, I could cause more blow-outs. I have to pace myself.”
His hand clamped around her fingers painfully. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a sweet damn credit for your headaches or your pacing or whatever excuse you can come up with. You are going to come to dinner with me, sit by my side, smile and laugh and be charming. Do you hear me?”
“Nichol, you’re hurting me,” Yennifer said, wincing. His fingers were crushing hers.
“You’re not listening to me,” he said, very quietly.
Yennifer froze.
You’re not listening to me
. They were danger words. She had heard them many time before and understood exactly what would happen next. Sometimes, though, if she acted swiftly and most contritely, she could deflect him.
So she gave him as bright a smile as she could. “I’m so sorry, Nichol. I’m being completely selfish. And tonight, of all nights. Of course I will come and help you celebrate. You deserve every accolade they can dream up, tonight. You’ve saved this city.”
His anger held for a moment more and she sat, keeping her smile in place, waiting to see if she had defused him.
Then he smiled fondly at her. He let go of her fingers and cupped her face. “You are a little darling, Yennifer my sweet. Now, go and put on your best dress. I want you looking spectacular.”
“Oh….” She looked down at the evening gown she was already wearing, then up at him and made herself smile. “I’ll go straight away. Should I meet you at the restaurant?”
“Here,” he said, standing up. “There’s some Varkan at the back of the bar that want to buy me a drink.”
Another drink.
She got to her feet. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” she told him.
“Of course you will,” he said over his shoulder as he headed back to the bar.
Charlton Space City, New Cathay (Ji Xiu Prime), Ji Xiu System, Perseus Arm. FY 10.187
Pure data. The streams of information slid past him at ever growing rates, essentially endless. He could make sense of this. It wasn’t like reading. It wasn’t even like watching a feed. He could swim in the ocean of data and absorb the facts it imparted. Like Interspace, it was a representation—not of space-time, but of knowledge. Facts.
From there, understanding could be reached.
Over here
, Connell’s digital voice directed him.
Bedivere let his consciousness drift to where Connell had called him and settled into the datastream.
Connell was directing, aligning him.
There
.
They were raw facts, stripped of color and emotion. Yet he was so used to seeing/feeling/interpreting them, he built them into blocks of knowledge without thinking about it.
Flashes of memory stirred.
A molten river of ore flowing past his feet. Too close for comfort and safety. The heat eating into his flesh through the protective suite…the sound of his breathing loud in his own ears because of the full isolation suit he was wearing. The clumsy movements as he shifted equipment with his shielded hands. The blast of unprotected sunlight on his visor…the wild scream of radiation counters blaring at him…the cool press of a medic’s scanner against his flesh…dispassionate language…sweat…heat…the blessed release of pain as the serum raced through his veins….
Bedivere wrenched himself up off the sofa and onto his feet in one convulsive movement. He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was breathing hard.
Connell blinked and focused on him. “What happened?” he asked. “We were down the hole. You saw it.”
Bedivere cleared his throat. “I saw it.” His voice was strangled. He went over to the kitchen panel and punched in an order. His hand was shaking. Well, so was the rest of him and the sweat was cold on his back and under his arms.
Connell came up behind him. “It happened again?”
“Worse, this time.” Bedivere grabbed the big glass when it appeared and drank the cold water in three huge gulps. He put the glass back and repeated the order.
Connell leaned against the counter, looking at him. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Every time you get near something related to your missing memories, this happens.”
Bedivere nodded.
“How bad are the cravings?” Connell asked. “If you keep prodding at your memories, will they get too bad…?”
Bedivere drank some of the second glass, considering the question carefully. “Possibly,” he said at last. “Probably,” he amended reluctantly. “It’s all wrapped up together.”
“That’s why you’re going at it digitally,” Connell pointed out. “There’s no emotion there.”
“There is for me,” Bedivere said simply. “I’ve been in this body too long. I automatically translate now. I can’t help it.”
Connell crossed his arms and sighed. His clear eyes were troubled. “Should you even do this, then?”
Bedivere stretched and rolled his head on his neck, trying to make the taut muscles relax. “I have to,” he said. “I’ve explained why.”
Connell glanced around the room. There was no one there but the two of them. Lilly and Brant were enjoying a rare day off. Because Lilly was not here, Yennifer was working from her own office. They had sealed the room before digging into the files, so no one could track their digital footsteps. They were secure.
“You want to know that it
was
just bad luck, or if someone really did push you into the no-ask contracts and the Darzi. And you want to find out more about Devlin…if he really is Varkan.” Connell repeated the words by rote, recalling them from previous conversations. Then his gaze refocused on Bedivere. “I still can’t believe he might be. Why would someone like Devlin lie about something like that?”
“That’s what I want to find out,” Bedivere replied. “Only, I’m not going to be able to do a digital dive like you can.”
“So what will you do?”
“I’m going to do it the old-fashioned human way. I’m going to read and infer.” Bedivere grinned. “You, though, can chase down that rabbit hole as deep as you want.”
“Which one?”
Bedivere’s grin faded. “You find out where I went and why. You started that particular burrow, so you should finish it. I’m going to find out everything I can about where Devlin came from.”
Connell drew in a deep breath and let it out on a gusty sigh. “Devlin Woodward, a Varkan,” he repeated with awe. “How important is it that you find out, Bedivere? Seriously? Because the storm it will cause if you’re right will make a supernova look tame in comparison.”
“In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter a single iota. Brant had it right—no one will care if he’s really a Varkan or not. Not these days. For me, though, the only thing more important than learning about Devlin is Catherine herself…and he’s got her in his life and in his sights.” Bedivere put the glass down. “I have to know the truth. It matters, Connell. More than life itself.”
Connell nodded. “So, let’s find out.”
* * * * *
Connell reached ahead through the system to ping Yennifer’s presence and let her know he was coming, so when he reached the office with the glass doors and walls and the pretty AIs running around everywhere, Yennifer was already standing and waiting for him.
“A formal appointment, Connell?” she asked, giving him a small smile. “We could have discussed this within the system, in a fraction of the time.”
“I’m staying human these days,” Connell said stiffly. “It helps with the business.”
Her expression slipped, just a little. Surprise…then distaste.
Connell wondered what it was about staying human that she didn’t like.
Then she pulled herself together again. “You’re doing very well with that, I believe. Another three Varkan pilot subcontractors. You’ll have a monopoly in no time.”
“Not possible, not with all the Varkan around, offering their own ships and routes. I do just fine, anyway,” he said.
“This is your appointment,” she reminded him, moving back around behind her desk. The long sleeves of her dress fluttered around her wrists as she waved to the chair sitting in front of the desk.
“It’s about Nichol, actually,” Connell said.
She stiffened. “What about him?”
“He’s good friends with Devlin Woodward.”
“Nichol is friends with many people.”
“He and Woodward are close,” Connell said patiently. “They drink together.”
She swallowed. “You want something from Devlin? Why not ask him directly? You sit in the same meetings with him as I do.”
“Because I can’t get what I want from him at those meetings.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to. Can you ask Nichol to set up a meeting on the
Hana
for me?”
“You work with the citymind and the city administrator. That will get you meeting just by asking,” Yennifer said.
“I don’t want to risk being pawned off on flunkies or assistants or an AI. I have to speak to Devlin Woodward alone.”
“Alone?” She said it sharply. “What are you doing, Connell?”
“You don’t need to know that, do you?” He reined in his impatience. “Will you ask him?”
She sat back and tugged at the bottom of her sleeves, one after another. “I…that would be difficult,” she said softly.
Connell sat forward. “It isn’t for me that I’m asking,” he said. “This is to do with Bedivere.”
She swallowed. “It doesn’t make any difference. Don’t ask me again, Connell. I can’t ask Nichol to arrange something like that, without an explanation. Not when it’s coming from…someone else.”
Connell frowned. What had she really been about to say, then? The hesitation had been as plain as a shout. He got to his feet and shook his head. “I thought you trusted everyone.”
She lifted her chin. “Everything you’ve ever done or said to me tells me you think I am a complete fool. You’re wrong. I will not go to Nichol with a baseless request for a favor of this magnitude.”
“You’re going to punish me because your feelings got hurt?” he asked.
“How nice. You think I have feelings that
can
be hurt.”