Fortunes of the Imperium (47 page)
Read Fortunes of the Imperium Online
Authors: Jody Lynn Nye
Tags: #Fiction, #science fiction, #General, #Action & Adventure, #Space Opera
“This silver powder was a fighter craft? Fascinating!” I ran my hands through the mass.
“They are not silver,” Plet corrected me. “They’re made of a dozen elements, but mainly iron, boron, silicon and platinum.”
“What fun!” I exclaimed. “I’d love to play with them. I never got to have any fun with the ones on board the
Bonchance
. We were always working. What can you make them do?”
“There’s nothing you can’t make out of these.”
She tapped at her tablet. The contents of the barrel seemed to quiver. The surface seemed to curl up and bead together. Before my eyes, figures of animals formed, perfect in every detail. They melded together and became a ball. The ball flattened out and elongated into the shape of a sword. I reached for it.
“Careful,” Redius said. “Truly sharp.”
I withdrew my hand. Anstruther tapped her screen, and the knife became a ladle.
“Watch this,” she said. She picked up the ladle and scooped up a pile of the powder. “Hold out your hand.”
I turned up my palm to catch the silver stream. Instead of piling into my cupped hand, they shimmered right through my skin and sifted back into the barrel.
“That’s amazing!” I said. “I never realized they were that small. How did Ensign Dee keep his in their box, if they can fall through other structures?”
“Their programming,” Anstruther said. “Individually, they’re almost indestructible. They can lift a thousand times their own weight.” A mischievous look crossed her face, and a silver ribbon of the nanites streamed out of the barrel. It spread over the floor and formed a translucent mat underneath my feet. I felt myself being pushed upward. I windmilled my arms to stay upright. Anstruther blushed with pride as she brought me down again. The silver square liquidated and retreated up the side of the barrel once more.
“I would play with this all day,” I said. “But games aside, the nanites were shipped here to form weaponry. What other destructive items were brought in in this innocent fashion?”
“We don’t know,” Nesbitt said.
“The Bertus own the company that sent the shipment to Way Station 46,” Plet said. “Therefore, we must assume they’re responsible for the hijacking nanites. We have inspected their ship, the
Pelican
, but it looks like the Bertus already made a delivery here on Nacer. Their ship’s holds are empty. Their manifest passing into the Autocracy said they were carrying ingots and metal chips.”
“All made up of nanites. Lord Rimbalius needs to know that,” I said.
“He does. Since I couldn’t inform Commander Parsons, I brought this information to the prime minister myself,” Plet said.
“I’ll bet he did the Uctu equivalent of tearing his hair out,” I said, picturing the choleric minister reacting to the phlegmatic lieutenant unfolding her tale.
“He . . . was openly upset,” Plet admitted. “He said that his agents always hear rumors of planned coups or attacks against the Autocrat’s rule.”
“Against Visoltia? Who could possibly want to harm that adorable little girl?” I asked, horrified.
“The High Protector confesses himself baffled. He told me that he has suspected that there was some kind of attack being planned, but until now, he had no idea how weapons were being smuggled across the border. Anstruther demonstrated the process to him. This new technology means that an arsenal can be built up anywhere. It caught him by surprise, to be honest. He doesn’t know what they haven’t caught, and what is already in system. It would suggest that an insurgency is imminent. Now he wants to interrogate the Bertus to see how much of this nanite material they sent in, or brought in.”
“They’re in the House of Deep Welcome,” I said. “Parsons knows that.”
“Yes, sir, that is where they were staying, but they have vanished.”
I felt as though the platform beneath my feet had been swept away, precipitating me onto the floor in a heap.
“What? When?”
“Commander Parsons sent me over to their hotel to put some listening devices into their rooms,” Nesbitt said. “They’re empty. The desk robot said that six humans, a Croctoid and a couple of Bluts were checked in, but they left the hotel and didn’t come back.”
“Where did they go?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” Plet said. “It is possible that Commander Parsons left to find them. I wish I could reach him.”
“Can’t you trace their devices? Their pocket secretaries and other electronics must hitch into the local Infogrid just as ours do.”
“We could, but they left them behind, sir,” Plet said. “The Bertus must have had an idea they were being watched. All of their personal electronic devices are still in their rooms. The High Protector’s staff is trying to break the encryption on them. Only the people themselves and a few pieces of clothing are missing. As no tracers have ever been planted on their persons, we can’t locate them. They’re not on their ship, and the crew hasn’t seen them in weeks.”
I was downcast.
“So we have no way of knowing when an attack might come. Does the High Protector have an inkling as to where or when they might strike?”
“None at all.”
I struck my palm against the table, making the nanites jump.
“The obvious time is at the accession feast! Her Serenity has to call it off.”
Plet shook her head. “Lord Rimbalius tried to persuade her, but Her Serenity insisted that it will go ahead. In the meanwhile, our ships have joined the Uctu forces scanning the immediate area for any more fighter craft. But it is vital we locate the Bertus.”
“Life and death, but it is likely that we won’t see them again until it’s too late.” A thought occurred to me, one ray of hope in the utter darkness that was falling. “This new information ought to give credence to the merchants’ assertions that they did not know they were carrying contraband.”
Plet’s face wore a sympathetic cast.
“I’m sorry, sir. Our discovery shows that ingesting the nanites did make the weapons appear on their ships, but it doesn’t prove they didn’t know about it.”
“I am certain they didn’t!” I insisted. “You have only to talk with them to hear it.”
“Even guilty people say they’re innocent,” Nesbitt said, his voice hoarse. He hated to argue with me. I regarded him with sympathy, but I knew I was right.
Plet shook her head. “Only the people who planted them in the food dispensers can tell us that. We have to find the Bertus. The High Protector’s staff has offered to let us see the images from the video pickups placed around the city. We may be able to trace the Bertus’ steps from the time you last saw them at the hotel. We’ll be working with the Uctu armed services from now until we find out what’s really happening.” She nodded to the crew, who switched off equipment and prepared themselves to go.
I approached Anstruther, who tucked her tablet into a shoulder pouch, along with a fist-sized stunner.
“Are you coming with us?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I promised to visit the prisoners this afternoon. I can at least bring them this good news. But I have a favor to ask of you.”
“I’d be happy to,” Anstruther said, her face flushing again. “What do you need?”
I ran my hand through the mass of nanites on the table. “These give me an idea. I have a notion that will surprise and delight the Autocrat. I can’t and wouldn’t shield her from knowledge of the potential threat, but at least I can help lift her spirits. Will you help me to make it work?”
“Of course . . . Thomas!”
“Keep it under your hat in the meanwhile,” I said, keeping my voice low. Plet was already standing by the door of the suite, about to bark the order to fall in. “We will talk later. I want this to be a surprise for everyone, including Parsons. I like our relationship always to be infused with a sense of the unexpected.”
“I promise,” she whispered, then hurried to join the others.
CHAPTER 42
The contents of the parcels I brought in on a floating sled were thoroughly vetted by Captain Oren and his guards before I was allowed to take them into the lockup. The Uctu guards seemed bemused as to why I was bringing foodstuffs when the prisoners were being fed adequately. It wasn’t a case of my vocabulary being inadequate, only my ability to sway them. In any case, Captain Oren allowed everything to pass but the yarn and knitting needles that Etta Rissul had asked for. I supposed at a stretch they could be used as weapons, but so could everything else, if one were creative enough.
I stopped in each of the cells, greeting the prisoners and offering reassurances and pleasant conversation. They were all grateful for the gifts and the news. The Wichus grabbed the carton of beer before I could hand it over. Accustomed to Oskelev’s rough friendliness, I didn’t take offense. They needed to cope in their own way. I told everyone what my crew and I had discussed. They all steeled themselves, working the knowledge into the defenses that they were mustering for the upcoming trial.
I saved my visit to the Coppers for last. Ms. Copper seemed pleasantly overwhelmed by the fruits of my shopping, but even more by the information I brought her.
“There was
what
in the food?” she asked again and again. She shook her head in disbelief. “No wonder the disposers in the landing bay were shut off! They wanted to make sure that, uh, that everything got into the waste tank. That is the sneakiest thing I ever heard of.”
“It does speak of a long-laid plot,” I said, trying not to watch directly as Nona, the elder daughter, tried on the magnetic earrings I had brought her. A quick run through the shopping precinct I had been forced to abandon the evening before had borne charming fruit. I wished that I could have brought them clothing, to replace the appalling green jumpsuits everyone was forced to wear, but no amount of persuasive talk could move Captain Oren to allow that exception.
Nine-year-old Lerin had received the adventure book-game unit I had brought him with a look of dismay for my stupidity.
“You know we sell these, right?” he said. “I bet you paid five times our cost for this.”
“But those are all on your ship, and this one is here,” I pointed out, in a friendly fashion. He couldn’t argue my logic. He retreated with his brother to play with the game in the children’s room, but not before fingering the lucky circuit hanging around his neck, all gold LEDs but the single blood-red light at the center.
“Thanks for this, though,” he said.
“My pleasure,” I assured him.
“We have to talk to our lawyer about the nanites. He knows we didn’t have any knowledge of them,” Rafe Copper said, his odd-colored eyes intense. His long back was straighter than it had been since I had met them. My news perked him up. I was glad to see the change.
“Mr. Allisjonil has the files,” I assured him. “The clerk of courts has already been in touch with him. This speaks of a deeper and more complicated situation. In light of the new information, your trial may be delayed.”
“No!” M’Kenna Copper said, running her hands over her hair. I noticed that it had been neatly braided and fastened at each tip with wine-colored beads. “Can’t we get released on our own recognizance, or moved to some other facility, one with more room? We can’t get off this planet, but I have to get out of this cell or I’m going to go insane.”
“I am sorry to deliver more disappointment,” I said. “I spoke to the ambassador. She has been fighting for that, but the High Protector is unwilling until they can lay hands on the real culprits. You are safer in here than you are out there.”
Her eyes lit with wild fear.
“No, we’re not. What you tell me just means we’re in more danger than ever. They’ve tried to kill us more than once already, right here in this jail!”
I cudgeled my brain to think of a solution.
“Perhaps Captain Oren can be persuaded to put a guard on each cell until the trial? After that you will be free to go.”
“They’ll tell you they don’t have the staff,” Ms. Copper spat. “Not when they’re bringing in even more so-called smugglers.”
My ears perked up.
“More smugglers?” I asked, horrified. “The authorities intercepted
another
shipment?”
Ms. Copper aimed a thumb at the wall. “On that side. They brought in a man last night. He was yelling his head off that the stuff in his ship wasn’t his. Rafe’s been talking to him through the wall. He’s furious at being arrested. Just like we were.” She looked dismayed, even lost. “He hasn’t had time to lose hope.”
“I will have to visit him and see if there is anything I can do for him,” I said. I rose and shook hands with the Coppers. “I wish there was more I could do for you. But please, don’t lose hope.”
M’Kenna Copper stood up to see me to the cell door.
“We’re grateful for what you’ve done already,” she said. “I’m sorry for the harsh things I said to you before. What you are doing is helping. We just have to hang on and hope they see we really are innocent.”
“I have faith that they will,” I said.
The guard waiting with my now empty sled let me out of the cell.
“I would like to meet the new prisoner,” I said.
“Allowed,” the guard said, a mature male with narrow shoulders and a long face. “But from outside. He is violent.”
“I understand,” I said. “Perhaps I can persuade him to calm down. You are not his enemy. Whoever put him here is.”
Almost afraid of what I might see, I peered in the cell door. A lanky figure in an ill-fitting green coverall sat hunched on his bunk, his face buried in his hands. The leg of the jumpsuit was split, revealing the man’s knee. Stains on the legs and shoulders spoke of the struggle that the guards had had getting him into the cell.
“Excuse me, sir. May I speak with you? My name is Lord Thomas Kinago. I am an emissary from the Imperium. I will give you all the help I can.”
Slowly, the human raised his head, revealing a long, narrow, unshaven face full of trepidation and anger. His thick black hair was disheveled. I was horrified and fascinated at the same time.
It was Parsons.
I swallowed, gathering my wits together and enjoining them to do the best that they had ever done in my life. There had to be a good reason why Parsons was occupying a cell in the Uctu holding facility. I must under no circumstances allow it to be assumed that we knew one another. Still, my sense of humor got the better of me. A smile spread across my lips. I could not have restrained it if I tried.
“Well, fellow,” I said. “It seems the authorities at last have you where you belong.”
To my surprise, Parsons seemed to approve this line of badinage.
“That’s not true, your lordship,” he said. I noticed that he spoke in a rough accent, and his voice had taken on a peculiar nasal tone I associated with those brought up in the Ramulthy system.
“Do you know this human?” the guard inquired.
“I do,” I said. “At least, I have seen his image on the tri-dee broadcasts. He is a famous shipper in the Imperium. I always wondered how he seemed to have grown so rich on such ordinary cargo.”
The man in the cell smirked at me. My jaw dropped. Parsons smirking! I did not know his face was capable of forming an expression so crass.
“You don’t know a lot,” Parsons fleered. “Most nobles don’t have a thought in their heads.”
“Careful, fellow,” I said, waggling a forefinger at him. “The single thought bumping around in my brain is that I was inclined to offer you my assistance, but you are fast driving it out with the thought that you are too annoying to live.”
Suddenly, he became sober. The flint-black eyes fixed upon me.
“I’m innocent,” he insisted. “Look, sir, you need to get me out of here. All I came to do was drop off cargo, and they threw me in here. I don’t want to die!”
I turned up my hands in a gesture of relative helplessness.
“I’ll do what I can, but that isn’t very much. My standing is purely symbolic. But I will try. And I can bring you a few home comforts, anything that the prison system will allow.”
Parsons bowed his head in abject apology.
“That’s all I ask, sir. And my friends over there, other side of the wall. They’re being pretty nice to me, a newcomer, you know. I just hate being accused of something I know I didn’t do!”
“Well, I suppose we are all in this together. I intend to do my very best to help you, captain.”
He sprang up off his bunk and came to prop his elbows up on the frame of the door. He moved with such feline grace and implied power that the guard pulled me a few meters away, out of reach.
I glanced into the Coppers’ door. From where I stood, I could see into several of the cells, though they could not see one another. Loneliness must have added to the feeling of helplessness. Ms. Copper’s dark eyes were always on me.
“You’re good to want to help, sir,” Parsons said. “No one else seems to give a crater. Will you come back again?”
“As often as I can.”
I had to hurry out of the corridor before I started asking awkward questions. Parsons would let me know his reasons in good time.
At the very least, I could inform Plet and the others that I had found him. It was a relief to know we had not just lost track of him. In fact, it was the most certain I had ever been as to his whereabouts that I had ever been.
M’Kenna sat with her heels against her bottom and her wrists balanced on her knees on the floor with her back to the edge of the bunk. She was taking first watch while Rafe slept.
After Lord Thomas left, the new guy spent the whole time until lights out alternately bellowing about being locked up and whining that he was innocent. She heard banging and the rending of cloth coming from the cell next door. The guards must have seen something they didn’t like on the surveillance monitors, because at one point a full half-dozen of them and the medic went past her. Their appearance set off another round of yelling from the man. The doctor returned, shaking her head, her white smock stained with red blood.
The shouting had really frightened her babies. Dorna refused to let her mother out of her sight. After a while, Rafe had wedged himself as close to the next cell as possible and struck up a conversation with the man, who called himself Steve. The talk went on for some time, but Steve’s voice lowered from a shout down to a whisper. Rafe had detached himself and shot M’Kenna a look of triumph. Their new neighbor was quiet after that, apart from a snore or two.
She checked the tablet on the floor beside her. Half an hour until she could wake Rafe up to take over. The kids were breathing softly. It was the most soothing sound in the galaxy. It made her want to lie down and just listen. She would have been asleep in no time. In fact, she was already yawning.
Something plastic made a soft clicking noise. She thought it was probably a beer container nudged by the foot of one of the Wichus next door. But instead of rolling noises, she heard a slithering sound. She listened more closely. It wasn’t coming from the side near the Wichus. Maybe the newcomer was moving around his cell. It was never really dark in the cells. Dull orange security lights and yellow pinpoints indicating where the video pickups were embedded made a constellation if she squinted and really pretended. Unlike the stars, though, they never moved.
Until that moment. A shadow momentarily eclipsed the pinpoint at the far end of the corridor. M’Kenna rose softly to her feet and moved to the front of her cell. She stood with her back to the wall just beside the door and tried to look out. She knew she had not imagined the flicker. If it had been one of the guards, he or she would have been carrying a greenish handlight. The LAIs were covered in their own lights. Instead, whoever or whatever was out there was working in the dark. Her eyes were accustomed to the dimness. She scanned the arc of the corridor visible from the door. She saw nothing, but it didn’t mean there was nothing to see.
She sidled back to the bunk and put her hand over Rafe’s mouth. She could just glimpse the gleam of his eyes as they sprang open. He started to sit up, then recognized her silhouette. She uncovered his mouth but put a fingertip to his lips. She felt his head nod. They had already discussed what to do if there was another attack. This time they would catch the guy. No matter what he tried, he wasn’t leaving their cell until the guards saw him. M’Kenna thought of waking Nona, but she had had very little martial arts training. Better to have all four of her babies out of the way.