Song of the Navigator (18 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Harmony executives gave Tover one week of sick leave.

He rarely left his suite, ordering food to be delivered, spending most of his time in his aviary. He only left for the gym, where he worked out obsessively, forcing his body to perform the way it used to.

The next time Peter Owens checked on him, he seemed contrite, and repeated his offer to assist Tover any way he could.

“You know, it isn't shameful to admit you might need some help.” Peter avoided eye contact. “We have skilled therapists on the station, and victims of physical assault often need someone to talk to, to work through their issues. I'd be happy to set something up for you.”

Tover blinked. He hadn't expected Peter to offer something clearly embarrassing for both of them, but the gesture touched him. “Thank you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I think that would help.”

Peter looked relieved, and turned down Tover's offer of a drink to make immediate arrangements.

The following morning, Tover was escorted to the offices of Delia Yu, psychologist with Harmony's private clinic and, according to Peter Owens, Tover's “best bet of getting a handle on things”.

Tover wasn't sure what kind of
handle
he needed. He simply didn't feel quite up to working yet, and he told Delia this.

She was small and thin, but she had a confident expression and looked kind, so Tover answered her probing questions about his incarceration. Like others he had told, she didn't make much of a distinction between the Pulmon Verde, who had taken him hostage, and the Jarrow, who had been his tormentors. And when Tover tried to explain the difference, Delia swished her tiny hand through the air and stopped him.

“You need to stop compartmentalizing your ordeal,” she told him. “It doesn't matter which group of people hurt you in what way. What you need to address is the sense of impotence this caused within you and how to feel strong and whole once again.”

They discussed various visualization techniques. And for the first time, Tover admitted to a fellow Harmony employee his terror making orbifolds.

“But you made two as you left the planet,” Delia clarified.

“Yes,” Tover said.

Delia shrugged. “Then it seems to me you can make them when you want to, not when you are being forced to.”

Tover shook his head. “It's not that simple. I wanted nothing more than to leave Carida, but I couldn't make one to save my own life.”

“You will be able to again,” Delia said confidently. “You need to positively correlate the experience. And while you do that we will concurrently work on therapies to address your post-traumatic stress disorder. There are several recommended treatments we can pursue. Stress-inoculation training, cognitive-processing therapy, even prolonged exposure, are all ways we can retrain your mind to reassociate. None of these are overnight solutions.”

“I know.”

“They will take months. But we can start today on some basic skills, to help you get through work next week. Anxiety coping mechanisms, preparing for stress reactions, these can have immediate results.”

Tover and Delia spent the next hour discussing stress-reaction strategies, and he left feeling like he had an ally in Harmony, someone on his side.

Only when he returned to his room did he realize she'd assumed he would return to work next week. He wasn't sure if he should feel bolstered by her confidence or worried by her assumption.

CTASA council sessions opened the following day. Delia noted that he seemed more positive than he had the day before, but Tover didn't tell her why. After his session with her, he skipped the gym and went home to scan net updates for Zoya's broadcast.

When her new episode became available that evening, he opened it. Zoya looked serious as she discussed corruption in aid distribution to overpopulated colonial outposts, and started in on her investigation into two senators who she blamed for the bulk of misappropriated aid funds.

Tover watched with growing anxiety. It didn't take long for him to realize the topic wouldn't switch to Carida, or Harmony, or the terraforming of the planet. He continued to the end of the show and repeatedly checked all newscasts in case he'd missed it. But by the morning, he knew that something had happened. Cruz's story had not aired. And CTASA sessions resumed their previously established schedule.

It could have been a scheduling error, but Tover doubted it. More likely, something had happened to Cruz or the Pulmon Verde movement. Or else Zoya herself had changed her mind about taking on Harmony.

The need to call Cruz overwhelmed Tover. But anyone who had broken out of containment would have their voiceprint embedded in the network monitoring security. And Tover had no idea what kind of warrants were out against Feo or Chucho or the others.

His fingers hovered over Cruz's wristpad, which he still wore instead of getting his own. It looked like any basic model of wristpad, perhaps a little low on specs for someone of Tover's income bracket. But he couldn't bear the idea of removing it. He conjured Ana's number, but he was terrified that Harmony could be listening and would punish her if he made contact. As he had several times before, he cancelled the call and remained in the dark as to what could have happened.

As he closed the call feature on the wristpad, he noticed the files icon and flipped through the folders available.

He'd done this the first night he'd returned to the station, but found nothing of much importance amongst the random collection of media files, images and recordings that Cruz had saved. But there was a large folder of mediafiles, all dated recently, days before Tover's rescue. And it was locked with a password.

For the first time, Tover wondered if this file contained the report Cruz had been working on with Zoya. If so, he couldn't access it without help, and it wasn't the kind of thing Harmony tech support would assist with.

The fact that Tover suspected Harmony of malicious concealment of information, along with tapping his calls, told him that he'd absorbed more of Caridan distrust of the company than he had originally thought. And he often thought of the argument he'd had over breakfast with Cruz.

The conversation had rankled him. Now, he searched his system and found a copy of the contract he had signed twelve years prior, as a fresh graduate from the institute, top of his class, recognized for unprecedented abilities in sensing unexplored space.

The contract had no expiration date, nor any mention of a severance package. In fact, there was no mention of Tover leaving at all. At first this seemed encouraging—he could quit at any time.

But there were other terms in the contract which discussed the cost to Harmony of his implants and training, which were seen as expenses absorbed for the duration of Tover's employment. He wasn't quite sure what it all meant, so he brought the document with him to his next appointment with Delia Yu.

“I take it you never read this when you first signed it.” Delia sounded a little exasperated as she read over the full document.

Tover shook his head. “I was eighteen. I didn't think Harmony would screw me over.”

“They aren't screwing you over,” Delia clarified, scowling, and Tover had to remember she too was under Harmony's employ. “But there are some specific requirements in here which you might have been able to negotiate had you been a little older.”

“Or had someone actually on my side,” Tover said.

He didn't miss the look of disapproval on Delia's face, but she didn't comment further, reading in silence.

Tover glanced around the calm, quiet space of her office, hoping the space would settle his nerves. But he felt adrift. Even here, in the place that was supposed to relax him, he felt on edge.

Finally, at the end of the document, Delia shook her head. “Tover, I'm not a lawyer, but this looks to me to be a permanent-position contract. By leaving you lose all the benefits that Harmony has given you for the position.”

“I expect that,” Tover said. “But I have savings.”

“I hope it's a lot,” Delia cautioned.

“It is,” Tover replied.

“Because the section you highlighted means that you are obliged to pay back the costs Harmony incurred in your hiring if you terminate.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means they are protecting their own investments. Which in your case, amount to quite a deal. Do you have any idea what sort of value the implants in your body represent?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it's best neither of us find out. There's no reason to lose hope on returning to work completely, Tover.” Delia gave him a nod. “We've got three more days to devise ways to get you comfortable in the navport again. Don't give up yet.”

Tover stared at her. “Can I ask you something? I want you to answer me honestly.”

Delia looked surprised by that. “I'm always honest.”

“Then tell me: if you weren't in Harmony's employ and were a therapist looking after my best interests…would you advise me to look for different work?”

Delia frowned. “It's a hard question to answer, since I
am
in Harmony's employ.” She sighed. “But I might. I might even now, even though I
do
work for Harmony. I'm here for your benefit. But at the moment I still think the best thing for you is to conquer your fear of the navport and get back to work. Running away isn't going to solve anything.”

Tover clenched his jaw.

“What else would you do, Tover?” Delia asked quietly. “You have been a navigator your whole adult life. It is everything you've ever aspired to be. You were great at it once, and will be again. I can't in good conscience tell you to abandon the one thing you excel at because you are struggling with it at the moment. Not yet. We'll get through this.”

Tover didn't press the issue.

“Now, on a related topic, but not regarding work, have you been out much since your return?” Delia asked.

“Not really.”

Delia gave him a little smile. “I remember you, at Harmony parties. You were always there.”

Grief rushed through Tover.
I'm never going to see Cruz again, am I?

He swallowed.

“You used to love those parties,” Delia said. “And there's one tonight, on the roof of the Palacio. It's a celebration for the new XO speed-fleet vessel that is joining the Harmony cruise line, and I think you should go. It isn't a big affair, but it will be a joyous one, and you need to leave your own head for a time and remember what it was like to have fun.”

Tover almost told her that his presence at all those parties wasn't because he loved to drink or dance or socialize with sycophants. He went there hoping Cruz would show.

But he didn't say anything, and she took his silence for acceptance, for she followed him to the door and told him she'd see him there. Tover nodded, still dazed by his realization that he'd never see Cruz again, and walked out of her office.

And into a crowd of reporters.

As the cams followed him and questions were yelled, he tried to recall a time when he appreciated all the attention.

“Navigator! Navigator!” someone yelled.

Tover closed his eyes. He felt the press of bodies around him, his bodyguards reaching for him to shelter him from the crush.

Tover opened his mind to the senses around him. He felt, briefly, Carida, and Lourdes's home. There were people there, he could sense it, but as far as he knew they could have been peacekeepers.

He then sensed his suite, and before he gave it too much thought, he opened his throat, shouted and jumped.

He leaned against the wall of his bedroom, hungry and tired, but pleased he could do that much. It wasn't the navigation itself anymore, only the amplification, the navport itself.

He went to the party, as his therapist expected. Alexey Jade seemed delighted to run into Tover, and kept him company. He was pleased enough to grant Tover a favor and look into Zoya Verishnikov for him.

“What kind of information do you want?” Jade asked, popping an olive in his mouth.

Tover shrugged. “Anything you can find.”

“Any reason behind this?” Jade raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to tell your story to
her
?”

Tover gave him a small smile. “Perhaps.” Let Jade believe what he needed to get the job done.

The party was excruciating. Everyone there fawned over Tover, asking questions about where he'd been and what had been done to him, a gleam of excitement in their eyes as they inquired about how he had been hurt. It was sick, their fascination with his torments. He drank heavily, one free drink after another, but even the intoxication depressed him, and he quickly made excuses and parted. On his way out the door, a young man who worked at the Lizard Lounge and who'd been one of Tover's casual lovers, offered to come home and keep Tover company.

He considered it for a moment, then dismissed the man. He was far too preoccupied for sex.

The thought brought him up short. He'd changed so dramatically, so quickly. How could all of the things he had loved so much three months ago—the fame, the attention, the casual sex—now feel like such a burden?

Chapter Seventeen

Alexey Jade showed up first thing the following morning, bringing with him a mediafile on Zoya Verishnikov. He watched Tover eat a large pancake breakfast and presented the most recent offers Tover had received for giving an interview.

“How much is the biggest offer?” Tover asked between bites.

Jade's eyebrows lifted in surprise. “100,000 shares, if you can believe it. The Samantha Show is offering that much for an exclusive interview, as long as they are free to ask any question they choose.”

“No.” Tover poured more syrup over his pancakes. They were a far cry from Ana's, that was for sure. “Tell them I want 125K and I will determine the topics that can be discussed ahead of time. If they balk, tell them I'm getting a similar offer from one of the other networks, but would prefer to work with them.”

Jade grinned. “That's ballsy! I like it.”

“Also, I want the money wired into a new account. I don't want it transferred to my established net account. I'll give them instructions.”

Jade's smile disappeared. “You're not planning on flying the coop, are you?”

“No,” Tover said. “I simply want something of my own.”

“You have a lot of your own, Tover,” Jade said.

“Do I?”

Jade didn't respond.

“What did you find out about Zoya Verishnikov?” Tover asked, changing the subject.

Jade appeared relieved. He nodded to the mediafile. “Most of what you would be curious about is on the public nets. There's also some stuff I got from the PR database. Not very interesting. She lives a lifestyle that requires no apologies. She pays taxes, is faithful to her husband, works her ass off for her stories. She commutes between newsrooms on Arland, Carida, Port Matthius and Makati. She has one kid, a young daughter, who is in school in Jurisprudence, on Makati. Dare I ask why you are interested in all of this?”

Tover shrugged. “Curious, that's all.” He pocketed the data drive. “Thank you.”

He and Jade discussed the schedule for an interview before Tover had to rush to make his appointment with Delia Yu. He answered her questions curtly and worked with her on the breathing exercises, but he wasn't fully engaged and she could tell.

As soon as he returned home he booted up the data on Zoya and reviewed everything Jade had provided. Most of the material was from her own sources, detailing the cutting-edge journalism she specialized in, and her objective stance on political issues that made her famous for honesty.

As he examined her record, he saw why Cruz had chosen to go to her, not the least of which being that she was one of only two independent newscasters with offices on Carida itself. The rest were subsidiaries of Exclusive, a broadcasting corporation under the Harmony family of companies.

Little about Zoya's life and career hinted toward any reason why her Carida expose would go unpublished.

Except for the fact that her husband was a Harmony executive.

Rage built inside him as he researched Rustam Rakhmanov's CV. Tover's access to Harmony employee files revealed that Zoya's husband was the Chief Operations Officer for Purchasing for Harmony's entire Makati and Port Matthius branches.

Zoya had a stellar reputation as an honest, objective reporter willing to investigate every scandal, no matter how politically hot. But perhaps when it hit this close to home, she was willing to shut the story down?

Tover missed Cruz, completely and terribly. His suite seemed so barren without the prospect of ever entertaining his lover there again. He missed the smells of him, he even missed arguing with him. And he wished he could talk to him now, warn him about Zoya's possible duplicity if Cruz hadn't figured it out already.

The following morning, Samantha from the Samantha Show personally got in touch with Jade to discuss the terms of Tover's interview. Tover agreed to talk about the role of navigators now and in the future, the importance of deep-space cargo movements to exploration and scientific endeavor, and he would touch briefly on his kidnapping. But he insisted that he would not discuss details regarding his incarceration.

Once the network agreed to Tover's terms, the shares quickly transferred to his new account and the interview time was set. Tover saw the promotional hype on every channel on his media screen. The images they used of his face were from dated mediafiles. He wondered if the shock of seeing his appearance now, even with his neck repaired, would be close to the one he felt the first time looking in Cruz's mirror.

Tover arrived in the network studio of DK Station early, flanked by his security guards, but already a collection of reporters from rival networks gathered outside the studio to catch him. Once indoors, employees of the studio gave him the royal treatment, offering beverages, ushering him to the faux-leather couch of the studio set, taking any last-minute food requests.

He was nervous, yet another sign that he was no longer the same man he used to be. The only thing he used to ever worry about was the embarrassing croak in his voice. But the insecurities he'd once felt regarding his voice had vanished. What did it matter, what his voice sounded like?
They should see my x-rays.

At last Samantha herself appeared. She was a cool, attractive woman in her midfifties with black-enhanced hair and bright, sparkling eyes. She wore a professional-looking classic suit made of some synthetic material that gave off a matte, absorbing appearance. No doubt it was designed for the intense light of the studio environment.

Samantha shook Tover's hand and sat on the other end of the couch from him while assistants clipped small mics to her and Tover.

He wiped his palms on the tops of his thighs. He was sweating.

At Samantha's signal, the entire room lit up and floating holocams circled, dozens of them, capturing each angle and sending remote feeds to a bank of consoles at the back of the large room.

Samantha gave her standard introduction to the special interview, then smiled and welcomed Tover back to DK Station. As promised, Samantha began the discussion on the topic of the future of navigation. Tover offered his opinions, but the topic soon moved off the dangers of navigating in general and to being a navigator.

And before Tover caught on, she asked about what happened to him. He answered her questions curtly, keeping his eyes away from the cams. He explained how he was forced to work for the Jarrow, and described how Pulmon Verde rescued him.

“So even though they were your captors, they came to your aide?” Samantha asked, clearly fascinated by this.

“The Jarrow had stolen evidence that is critical to the future health of Carida,” Tover explained. “The Pulmon Verde were desperate, so they traded me. It was only for a short time, though, and I spent the rest of the last few months recuperating under Pulmon Verde care.”

It wasn't entirely true, but Tover didn't want this to hurt Cruz.

Samantha looked appropriately shocked. “I've never heard of such deplorable treatment for someone as esteemed as a navigator before.” She shook her head. “How did that make you feel?”

“How did it make me feel?” Tover grimaced. “How do you
think
it made me feel?” He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Look. What the Pulmon Verde did was wrong, but the Jarrow were worse.”

“Where are they now?” Samantha asked. “The men who hurt you?”

“The ones directly responsible are dead,” Tover said.

“They were killed when the Pulmon Verde stole you back?”

Tover didn't mention that he was the one to have shot Savel. He'd thought back on that incident several times, and although he knew a decent man would feel remorse at having taken another's life, he didn't. He felt nothing but gratitude that Cruz had let him take vengeance himself.

But he said none of this.

Samantha continued with a new question. “What were the Pulmon Verde plans with you after they recaptured you?”

“I wasn't recaptured, I was rehabilitated,” Tover tried to explain, but Samantha interrupted.

“They took you back. Were you free to leave their care?”

“Not at first, but—”

“So you were once again their prisoner.”

Tover shook his head. “The thing is, the Pulmon Verde, what they are fighting for, is just.”

Samantha looked over at her sound engineer. They both seemed to communicate something silently.

“What?” Tover asked, narrowing his eyes.

Samantha smiled. “Have you ever heard of the Stockholm Syndrome, Navigator?”

Tover frowned. “Yes. But…but that's not what this is. Look, terraforming Carida is going to kill the local population! It's going to destroy the natural habitat and the people are in grave danger. It's all recorded on the—”

“The definition of Stockholm Syndrome describes how captives sympathize and think well of their captors.”

“This is different,” Tover said, although something in his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I'm not defending what they did to me. What they did was wrong. But I understand
why
Cruz found it necessary to—”

“Cruz? You're on a first-name basis with the man who sold you into slavery?”

“It wasn't his idea!” The resounding silence as a response showed him what a ridiculous thing he'd said.

He closed his mouth.

She was right, wasn't she? He
was
delusional. He had been from the start. He should have killed Cruz the first moment he returned to break Tover free of the Jarrow. It didn't matter that Cruz saved him. It had been Cruz who put him in danger in the first place.

So forget Cruz. But what about Lourdes? The only thing disreputable she'd ever done was raise a terrorist.

And she got shot for it.

Tover shook his head. He knew the cameras focused on him.

“I don't want to talk about my ordeal,” he said, voice hoarse and choking on the words. “I want to talk about the future of navigating, as we said we would discuss.” But his answer was weak, and the gleam in Samantha's eyes too strong, and he knew she now had her celebrity confession and would milk it for all it was worth.

“Cruz,” she said again. She glanced at her wristpad. “Is that Cruz Arcadio, the spy caught re-entering DK Station after a warrant for his arrest had been issued?”

Tover swallowed but didn't admit anything.

“Now that the peacekeepers have arrested him, will you testify at his trial?”

Tover was surprised by that. “They captured him?”

“Will you testify?”

“They have him on Carida?” Tover demanded.

Samantha nodded. “He's scheduled to be transferred to the station here and on to Great Arland for corporate espionage, kidnapping, human trafficking and murder.”

Samantha said something further but Tover no longer listened. Cruz was coming to the station. He
would be here
, somewhere in this complex of cells and gates.

And what was Tover going to do about it? Plenty of evidence existed against Cruz, but nothing to support his claims. Whatever had happened to Cruz's news story couldn't be good. Tover couldn't help him.

Tover pulled the mic from his shirt and stood. He was getting used to the sight of stunned faces.

“This interview is over.” He left the studio.