Part 13 (2/2)
”These are not locals,” interrupted Nemes. Her thin lips looked as bloodless as the rest of her pale face above the red uniform collar. ”They're offworlders.”
”Ahh, well,” said Solznykov, relieved that he would not be dealing with these n.o.ble Guard freaks for more than a minute or two more, ”then we can't help you. You see, Bombasino's the only working s.p.a.ceport on Vitus-Gray-Balia.n.u.s B now that we closed down the indigenie operation at Keroa Tambat, and except for a few s.p.a.cers who end up in our brig, there's no immigration at all here. The locals are all Spectrum Helix...and, well...they like colors, they surely do, but an android would stand out like a...well, Colonel?”
Colonel Vinara looked up from his database search. ”Neither the images nor names match anything in our records except for an all-points bulletin sent through via Pax Fleet about four and a half standard years ago.” He looked questioningly at the n.o.ble Guardsmen.
Nemes and her siblings stared back without comment.
Commander Solznykov spread his hands. ”I'm sorry. We've been busy for the last local two weeks on a major training exercise I had running here, but if anyone'd come through here who matched these descriptions...”
”Sir,” said Colonel Vinara, ”there were those four runaway s.p.a.cers.”
G.o.ddammit! thought Solznykov. To the n.o.ble Guardsmen he said, ”Four Mercantilus s.p.a.cers who jumped s.h.i.+p rather than face charges for use of illegal drugs. As I remember it, they were all men, all in their sixties, and”-he turned significantly to Colonel Vinara, trying to tell him to shut the f.u.c.k up with his gaze and tone-”and we found their bodies in the Big Greasy, didn't we, Colonel?” thought Solznykov. To the n.o.ble Guardsmen he said, ”Four Mercantilus s.p.a.cers who jumped s.h.i.+p rather than face charges for use of illegal drugs. As I remember it, they were all men, all in their sixties, and”-he turned significantly to Colonel Vinara, trying to tell him to shut the f.u.c.k up with his gaze and tone-”and we found their bodies in the Big Greasy, didn't we, Colonel?”
”Three bodies, sir,” said Colonel Vinara, oblivious to his commander's signals. He was checking the database again. ”One of our skimmers went down near Keroa Tambat and Med dispatched...ah...Dr. Abne Molina...to go down-ca.n.a.l with a missionary to care for the injured crew.”
”What the h.e.l.l does this have to do with anything, Colonel?” snapped Solznykov. ”These officers are searching for a teenager, a man in his thirties, and an android.”
”Yes, sir,” said Vinara, looking up, startled, from his com log. ”But Dr. Molina radioed in that she had treated a sick offworlder in Lock Childe Lamonde. We a.s.sumed that it was the fourth s.p.a.cer...”
Rhadamanth Nemes took a step forward so quickly that Commander Solznykov flinched involuntarily. There was something about the slim woman's movements that was not quite human.
”Where is Lock Childe Lamonde?” demanded Nemes.
”it's just a village along the ca.n.a.l about eighty klicks south of here,” said Solznykov. He turned to Colonel Vinara as if all this commotion were his aide's fault. ”When are they flying the prisoner back?”
”Tomorrow morning, sir. We have a med-skimmer scheduled to pick up the crew in Keroa Tambat at oh-six-hundred hours and they'll stop in...” The Colonel stopped speaking as the four n.o.ble Guard officers spun on their heels and made for the door.
Nemes paused just long enough to say, ”Commander, clear our flight path between here and this Lock Childe Lamonde. We'll be taking the drops.h.i.+p.”
”Ah, that's not necessary!” said the Commander, checking the screen on his desk. ”This s.p.a.cer is under arrest and will be delivered...hey!”
The four n.o.ble Guard officers had clattered down the steps outside his office and were crossing the tarmac. Solznykov rushed out onto the landing and shouted after them. ”Drops.h.i.+ps aren't allowed to operate in atmosphere here except to land at Bombasino. Hey! We'll send a skimmer. Hey! This s.p.a.cer's almost certainly not one of your...he's under guard...hey!”
The four did not look back as they reached their s.h.i.+p, ordered an escalator to morph down to them, and disappeared through the drops.h.i.+p hull. Sirens went off across the base and personnel ran for shelter as the heavy drops.h.i.+p lifted on thrusters, s.h.i.+fted to EM, and accelerated south across the port perimeter.
”Jesus f.u.c.king Christ,” whispered Commander Solznykov.
”Pardon me, sir?” said Colonel Vinara.
Solznykov gave him a glare that would have melted lead. ”Dispatch two combat skimmers immediately.... no, make that three. I want a squad of Marines aboard each skimmer. This is our turf, and I don't want these anemic n.o.ble Guard p.i.s.sants doing so much as littering without our say-so. I want the skimmers there first and that rucking s.p.a.cer taken into custody...our custody...if it means harelipping every Spectrum Helix indigenie between here and Lock Childe Lamonde. Savvy, Colonel?” custody...if it means harelipping every Spectrum Helix indigenie between here and Lock Childe Lamonde. Savvy, Colonel?”
Vinara could only stare at his commander.
”Move!” shouted Commander Solznykov. shouted Commander Solznykov.
Colonel Vinara moved.
10.
-was awake all that long night and the next day, writhing in pain, shuttling to the bathroom while carrying my IV-drip apparatus, trying painfully to urinate, and then checking the absurd filter I had to urinate through for any sign of the kidney stone that was killing me. Sometime in late morning I pa.s.sed the thing.
For a minute I couldn't believe it. The pain had been less for the past half hour or so, just the echo of pain in my back and groin, actually, but as I stared at the tiny, reddish thing in the filter cone-something larger than a grain of sand but much smaller than a pebble-I couldn't believe that it it could have caused such agony for so many hours. could have caused such agony for so many hours.
”Believe it,” Aenea said as she sat on the edge of the counter and watched me pull my pajama s.h.i.+rt back in place. ”It's often the smallest things in life that cause us the greatest pain.”
”Yeah,” I said. I knew, vaguely, that Aenea was not there-that I would never have urinated in front of anyone like that, much less in front of this girl. I had been hallucinating her presence ever since the first ultramorph injection.
”Congratulations,” said the Aenea hallucination. Her smile seemed real enough-that slightly mischievous, slightly teasing turning up of the right side of her mouth that I'd grown accustomed to-and I could see that she was wearing the green denim slacks and white cotton s.h.i.+rt she often wore when working in the desert heat. But I could also see the sink basin and soft towels through her.
”Thanks,” I said and shuffled back to collapse in the bed. I could not believe that the pain would not return. In fact, Dr. Molina had said that there might be several stones.
Aenea was gone when Dem Ria, Dem Loa, and the trooper on guard came into the room.
”Oh, it's wonderful!” said Dem Ria.
”We're so glad,” said Dem Loa. ”We hoped that you would not have to go to the Pax infirmary for surgery.”
”Put your right hand up here,” said the trooper. He handcuffed me to the bra.s.s headboard.
”I'm a prisoner?” I said groggily.
”You always have been,” grunted the trooper. His dark skin was sweaty under his helmet visor. ”The skimmer'll be by tomorrow morning to pick you up. Wouldn't want you missing the ride.” He went back out to the shade of the barrel tree out front.
”Ah,” said Dem Loa, touching my handcuffed wrist with her cool fingers. ”We are sorry, Raul Endymion.”
”It's not your fault,” I said, feeling so tired and drugged that my tongue did not want to work right. ”You've been nothing but kind. So kind.” The fading pain kept me from sleeping.
”Father Clifton would like to come in and speak with you. Would that be all right?”
At that moment I would have welcomed spider-rats nibbling on my toes about as much as the idea of chatting with a missionary priest. I said, ”Sure. Why not?”
FATHER CLIFTON WAS YOUNGER THAN I, SHORT-but not as short as Dem Ria or Dem Loa or her race-and pudgy, with thinning, sandy hair receding from his friendly, flushed face. I thought that I knew his type. There had been a chaplain in the Home Guard a bit like Father Clifton-earnest, mostly inoffensive, a bit of a momma's boy who may have gone into the priesthood so that he would never have to grow up and become really responsible for himself. It was Grandam who had pointed out to me how the parish priests in the various moor-end villages on Hyperion tended to remain somewhat childlike: treated with deference by their paris.h.i.+oners, fussed over by housekeepers and women of all ages, never in real compet.i.tion with other adult males. I don't think that Grandam was actively anticlerical in spite of her refusal to accept the cross, just amused by this tendency of parish priests in the great and powerful Pax empire.
Father Clifton wanted to discuss theology.
I think that I moaned then, but it must have been taken for a reaction to the kidney stone, for the good priest merely leaned closer, patted my arm, and murmured, ”There, there, my son.”
Did I mention that he was at least five or six years younger than me?
”Raul...may I call you Raul?”
”Sure, Father.” I closed my eyes as if falling asleep.
”What is your opinion of the Church, Raul?”
<script>