Only Superhuman (12 page)

Emry liked her friends’ ships well enough, but was eager to get back to the Corps; she missed Zephyr. Hearing his voice would’ve been very comforting right now. Still, she had good company in the form of Kari. She didn’t know Elise or Juan all that well, and as for Cowboy—Sanjay—well, he had saved her life twice, and though she wouldn’t repay him in the coin he desired, she figured she should at least be civil.

Thus she didn’t decline when he invited the others to join in a game of full-uniform strip poker. Elise was the only one who bowed out; she didn’t share the typical Troubleshooter fondness for sexually charged competition. Emry couldn’t blame her, given how those Palladian raiders had raped her and killed her parents in front of her when she was fifteen. At least she had an excuse for her hard-line approach to Troubleshooting; Cowboy just seemed to think it was fun.

Emry was too reckless and too bad at hiding her emotions to be a decent poker player. That was why she only played strip; she didn’t mind losing. True to form, she was the first one out. As for Kari, everyone expected her to have a perfect poker face; but her modesty made her nervous, though not nervous enough to trigger her battle peace, so she played poorly. She managed to stay in longer than Juan—who, after all, had no boots—but lost soon thereafter, retreating behind Emry for cover. Emry was happy to see Cowboy win, having little interest in seeing him naked.

Which left only Juan or Kari as potential bed partners, and Kari’s sexual tastes were pretty much unidirectional. Emry liked legs on a man, sure, but the rest of Juan was impressive enough. And when he offered to show her what he could do with his hands, she was hooked. As it turned out, he didn’t disappoint. And as a fellow Troubleshooter, he understood how to keep it casual—friendly but with no strings attached. Just the way Emry preferred it.

Demetria

Back at HQ, things were bustling, though it was mostly the enlarged support staff since the T-shooters were staying busy out in the field. She overheard some of the details from the staff (though not from Sally Knox, who couldn’t be bothered). Lodestar had uncovered and thwarted a scheme of the Wellspring’s scientist elite to break hardened inmates out of a Trojan penal habitat to perform mind-altering experiments that its governor had refused to permit. Paladin had exposed a major embezzlement operation within the government of a carbon-mining colony in the Hygieans, while Bellatrix had talked the exploited miners down from launching an armed revolt. Coyote had foiled a scheme of the Gagaringrad mafia to hijack the Eunomian drive beam and amp it up into a weapon of mass destruction, while a team of Sheaver technical advisors had helped the other local habitats augment their magnetic shields to combat levels, a precaution that had proven unnecessary. All in all, the news lately was more about battles averted than battles won or lost, and Emry found it refreshingly boring.

She was surprised, though, when Sally called her to Sensei Villareal’s office and told her that Greg Tai wanted to speak to her. “What happened to Sensei?” she demanded on her arrival.

Sally looked her over, as unimpressed by her righteous indignation as by, well, everything else Emry had ever said to her. “Mister Tai is expecting you. You’re late,” she added.

Emry blinked. “I came as soon as you paged me! How can I be late?”

“By continuing to waste my time arguing about it.”

Emry blinked, shook her head, and stormed into Sensei’s office. “What happened to Sensei?”

Tai looked her over and smiled reassuringly. “Come in, Emerald, have a seat. Yukio’s fine, he sends his best. He just decided that he could do more good for the Corps by getting out more. Concentrating on public relations and lobbying—you know, taking advantage of that swashbuckling charm of his to advance our goals—while leaving the day-to-day logistics of the TSC in other hands.”

“Your hands.”

“I was honored when he picked me. But admittedly, it was the most practical decision.”

Emry smiled as she took a seat. “I guess it was, yeah. I mean, you’ve been doing so much good around here, you’re practically one of the family. So why not make it official?” She shrugged. “It’s just weird to see someone else sitting behind that desk.”

“Believe me, it feels weird. But we’re talking about the Archer here.” He gestured to the display case, which contained Sensei’s old Shashu uniform, the green-and-gold body armor styled to suggest a samurai Robin Hood. “The legendary man of action. Does it really make sense for him to plant his ass behind a desk? That’s much more in my line.”

She had to admit, the thought of her childhood hero getting back into action—even if it was a more sedate, political kind of action—was gratifying. But she ventured to disagree about the rest. “I don’t know. You have the ass of a man who stays pretty active.”

Tai laughed, but it was a controlled, polite laugh. “Thank you, Emerald … but given our working relationship now, I think a certain … professional decorum is called for, don’t you think?”

“Oh. Sorry.” She tried in vain to seal her top up higher without drawing attention to the act. “So what did you want to see me about … boss?”

Tai looked at her with approval. He stood and came around the desk, resting his weight on it, and looked down at her. “I have an assignment that I think you’d be uniquely qualified for, Emerald.”

“Emry.”

“Ah-ah.” He raised a finger. “Not during office hours.”

She shrugged. “Whatever fills your tank.” He just stared. She subsided, clearing her throat.

“As I was saying: For this mission, Emerald, I need … what you are. I need a Vanguardian.”

She looked up at him sharply. “I’m not a Vanguardian. My dad was, but they turned their back on him. On everyone.”

“My understanding is that he chose to leave them.”

“Only because they wouldn’t help people after the war. And they never bothered to take an interest in him either after he left.”

“True, they’ve remained very insular ever since. Until now,” he told her.

“Now?”

He stood fully again. “Eliot Thorne has recently begun making overtures to other transhumanist habitats, in the Outer Belt and elsewhere,” he said, pacing slowly around her. “It seems he’s trying to arrange a summit to discuss a possible alliance.”

Emry stared. “You’re kidding. Thorne? Offering an alliance?”

“It would be a rather radical shift in policy, wouldn’t it? That’s why we need someone there to find out what’s behind it.”

She looked up at him quizzically. “You want me to spy on them?”

Another controlled laugh. “Not exactly. Of course there’s no way the Green Blaze can go incognito. But Troubleshooters are mods too, so the case can be made that the Corps has a legitimate interest. We’ve made overtures, and they’ve shown a … guarded willingness to allow a TSC observer to attend. Which is only natural. If they have nothing to hide, they should have no problem with it. And if they do have something to hide, refusing would only raise suspicions.

“But they’d be most likely to accept if it were you, Emerald. Plus your family ties would give you an in that other Troubleshooters would lack. If you approach them as a … long-lost relative interested in learning about her heritage, that could give you access to channels they might not open to another delegate. You might learn something they wouldn’t reveal in public.” He crouched by her chair, one arm around its back, and spoke more softly. “And if you give them the impression that your loyalties might be … flexible, you might learn even more. Say, information about their real intentions for this alliance. Whether there’s been some change to make them suddenly interested in broadening their reach, and whether that change might pose a threat to other states.”

She fidgeted. “So you do want me to spy on them.”

“To gather intelligence, yes.”

“To seduce them. Pretend I want to get close just so I can … take advantage of them?”

Tai was amused. “Emerald, I’ve studied your files. I’ve seen how you dress. You’re no stranger to seduction.”

“That’s different. That’s sex, not … not family.”

He furrowed his brow. “Frankly I didn’t expect you to worry so much about the Vanguard’s feelings. You’ve never shown any interest in dealing with them before.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

He stood again, forcing her to look up. “You’re a professional, Ms. Blair. You have responsibilities beyond your personal likes and dislikes. Responsibilities that include identifying threats to the peace, regardless of where they originate.”

She frowned. “What threat? Thorne’s bunch may not have been too neighborly for a while, but have they done anything wrong? They were heroes once upon a time.”

Tai studied her. “Maybe that’s how it’s taught in the Belt, but Earth’s experience with them was more … ambivalent. Yes, they took it upon themselves to use their enhancements for peacekeeping during a time of turmoil. But even then, they acted like a law unto themselves, not respecting the proper authorities, not caring about the property damage they inflicted in their battles or sometimes even the innocent people they endangered. They thought they were above us, in more senses than one, and they weren’t afraid to exploit their advantages. Not all of them, of course,” he added. “There were some fine people in their ranks, your father and grandfather among them. But sadly, neither of them is around anymore. The Vanguard is ruled by its most ambitious, politically radical, and charismatic member, and given how thoroughly closed it’s been for the past thirty years, it doesn’t seem like he has a lot of opposition. And if he’s suddenly interested in broadening his ties to other mod nations … well, that’s something we need to investigate.

“Especially given the nature of the pitch he’s been making. This summit is also something of a coming-out party for his daughter, Psyche Thorne.” Tai scoffed. “Psyche. Even the name is a boast. Rumor is, she represents the pinnacle of the Vanguard’s efforts to enhance the human mind as well as the body. The summit is meant to show her off as an example of how far Vanguard science can elevate the human potential. It’s a sales pitch, and she’s the demo model. Join us and you too can become part of a superior race.”

His words seemed to make sense, but the assignment made Emry uneasy. “I don’t know. Sure, Thorne’s politics rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but he never made a violent power play on Earth, and he’s never caused any trouble in the Belt. So if he wants to hold a summit meeting, what business do we have spying on it? We just keep the peace. We don’t judge anybody’s politics, so long as they don’t make trouble.”

“That’s exactly the thinking that gave the Neogaians the freedom to attack Chakra City. That would’ve let the Michani unleash a plague of killer robots within the week if you hadn’t stopped them.”

He handed her a sheet of e-paper from his desk. “Look at the invitation list, Emerald. Neogaia is on there. Zarathustra, Wellspring, Mars Martialis, the Moreau Foundation. Even the Michani got an invitation, though they refused.” He leaned over her, putting his hands on the arms of her chair and staring into her eyes. “These are people who have no qualms about using unborn children as guinea pigs for untested, potentially dangerous mods. People who believe that mods are destined to rule or supplant baseline humans, by force if necessary. People who use their enhancements to pursue terrorist or criminal—”

“You don’t have to tell me what they do. I know what the Neos did to Arkady. I know what the Wellspringers do to kids.”

“Then you know what it suggests if the Vanguard is getting in bed with them.” He straightened. “The fragmentation of the militant mod nations is possibly the only thing that’s kept them from emerging as a serious systemwide threat. But the one thing they all have in common is their reverence for the Vanguard as the ones who started it all, the ones whose example they’ve all tried to follow. If they were united under a charismatic, ambitious leader like Eliot Thorne … just imagine, Emerald.

“You’re right, they’ve done nothing wrong yet. Just getting together to talk. But if that talk is going to lead to something dangerous, we need to know about it
before
it happens. And you’re the best Troubleshooter for the job, Green Blaze. Not just because of your heritage, but because of your skills, your training, your insight.”

She was silent for a moment. Could Tai be right? Whatever her unease with her own Vanguardian heritage, she’d always seen Thorne himself as a glamorous figure. In her youth, her father had often shown her news footage and documentaries about the Vanguardians to help her learn of her heritage, but with an unintended consequence: as Emry grew older, the images of Eliot Thorne had inspired some of her first stirrings of sexual desire, and he had been the subject of her earliest erotic fantasies. Even after she’d turned her back on Richard Shannon and his side of the family, Thorne had lived on in her fantasy life as the ideal of masculine beauty and sexuality. What if that romanticized image was blinding her to the truth about the man? Still, she hesitated. “It’s asking a lot of me.”

“I know.” His hand touched her shoulder, and lingered there. “It’s clear there’s no love lost between you and your father’s family. That’s why I can count on you to be objective, to see through any smoke screens they put up.” He smiled. “You just have to let them think otherwise.”

Emry smirked. “I’m a lousy poker player.”

He looked her over. “So I’ve heard. Just remember how much higher the stakes are. Make sure the uniform stays on—figuratively, at least.”

She shrugged. “Okay. I got it, boss.” She rose. “I’ll do my best, I promise.”

“I’m certain you will. But Emerald?” She stopped on her way to the door, turned back. “I do like to keep things professional. In the future, please wait until I dismiss you. And … I’d appreciate it if you’d call me ‘sir.’”

She stared for a second, but then decided it was a harmless enough request. It wasn’t the way Sensei did business, but surely Tai had earned it by now. “Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”

“No, Emerald. You’re dismissed. I’ll have the staff arrange your invitation.”

“Thank you, sir.”