Unconfirmed reports of secondary explosions continue to leak out of Nordis system. Forces from many of the other conglomerates have offered humanitarian aid to Mimir, which they have soundly refused. Most of these requests have been withdrawn, given impending war among the congloms. Elements within the Commonwealth have been asserting that Mimir is only the first blow—any world could be next.
— Newswire, two weeks after the attacks on Mimir
5 Decem, 5249 PD
He ducked out of the baths as soon as he’d managed to collect his thoughts, trying to look nonchalant. He even managed to smile at the Chinasian girl minding the front end of the baths as he strode out.
“Enjoy the rest of your stay at Cassini VII,” she suggested cheerfully.
Tim nodded to her, his mouth dry as he responded. “I’ll try.” Or at least I’ll try to fake it until I’m well away from here.
He walked quickly down the concourse, eyes trained straight ahead. His appetite had vanished with word from Sephora, his stomach unsettled, twisting into uncomfortable knots. A conspiracy. Toss me into a damned black hole. How deep could it go?
Deep enough that she told me not to trust anyone. That’s got to be pretty deep.
Deep enough that the only people I’m supposed to trust are the same people who ran from the Commonwealth twenty years ago. This is insane.
He headed up a sloping gangway to the next level and hopped on a moving sidewalk, leaning against its rail as he attempted to gather his fragmenting thoughts, to put everything back into some semblance of order. Above him, displayed on screens hanging from the concourse above, a pretty, dark-skinned newscaster in a red suit was talking, reporting whatever was purportedly newsworthy. He blinked at the screen, starting to listen as he caught a fleeting glimpse of the story’s tagline—Death of the Whispers.
“Even now, there continues to be speculation that it was in fact the Rose Foundation colony in the Eridani Trelasia system that was responsible for the assaults at the Whispers,” the newscaster was saying. “Recent activity has pointed to a military mobilization in the region that is unprecedented in the history of the Fringe. No commentary has been forthcoming from the Foundation or the Colony, but sources within the Commonwealth have strongly indicated that it is not outside the realm of the possibility that the Foundation was involved. In related news, Chinasia Corporation and the Eurydice Compact have leveled charges of espionage and theft at the Foundation, claiming that strike forces illegally obtained military materiel from Fringeward installations. No additional details have been released, but Chinasia board chairman Daiko Zaki is scheduled to speak in the Commonwealth parliament at 0900 hours New Earth Standard time tomorrow. It is hoped that he will reveal more information about the alleged assault at that time.”
“Bloody hell,” he murmured. What the hell am I walking into?
Either the mother of all coincidences or some kind of insane set-up. His lips thinned. What had the Inspector General pointed him toward?
What if the Foundation—and the remnants of the Psychean Guard—really were responsible for the death of the Whispers?
The woman droned on as he neared the end of the walkway.
“Sources within the Wanderers, the faction that dominated the Whispers, indicated that they had no reason to believe that the colonists at E-557 had anything to do with their misfortune. Father Andrais Cabrini reportedly said ‘The Foundation has always been our friend and ally, always willing to help in times of need. We have provided them with succor and safe haven as they have done the same for us. They, and their brothers and sisters in the late Guard, could not have been responsible for such an atrocity.’ Congloms throughout the Commonwealth have decried Cabrini’s words as being fueled by ‘sentiment and wrong-headedness,’ in the words of Senator Gordan Rafe, representing the Idesalli world of Maricopa in the legislature. Many factions have indicated that the recent relationship forged between the colony and Mission Systems LLC indicate that the Colony is ready to go on the offensive against its neighbors.”
He stepped clear of the walkway and exhaled with a grimace. Too many blind alleys, blind corners—too much I don’t know. He shouldered his bag and started to walk. No options. I have to get out there. For the love of all that’s holy and sacred, I’m not even sure that I can trust anyone anymore. Might as well go with the devil that your boss knows and trust that she’s not going to somehow accidentally lead you astray, right?
Holding that thought close, he set is jaw and headed up another two levels to talk to the people at Mission Systems LLC.
• • •
Alana leaned back in the contoured chair, tilting her face toward the ceiling as she settled her arm into the open restraints to one side, the ones designed to hold it still while Ezra got started with the delicate process of removing components of her cyberware. Her eyes slid shut as she exhaled.
“Do you know what I heard?” she asked Ezra quietly as he came to her side and injected her with a heavy dose of local anesthetic. It would take a few long moments, but soon her arm would be numbed from the shoulder down.
“What did you hear?” he asked, turning away to get his tools.
She forced herself to relax, breathing slowly and deeply. “The Compact and Chinasia are saying the Foundation staged armed raids and stole materiel from them.”
Something clattered to the floor and her eyes blinked open. She straightened, twisting to look at him. Ezra just stared at her, a pair of delicate-looking pliers laying on the floor at his feet.
“Ezra?”
“What the hell are they talking about? How many—when did they—”
She eased out of the chair and went to him, cupping his face with her flesh and blood hand. “We knew that they’d figure out who came, Ezra,” she murmured. She leaned in and rested her forehead against his. Their eyes met and he sucked in a ragged breath.
“Human beings aren’t materiel,” was all he could say, his hands coming up to catch her face between his palms.
“No,” she agreed in a whisper. “But Brendan’s implant was. My arm is.”
His eyes widened. “You don’t—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “That’s how they’ll spin it, whether Brendan and I were the ones walking in and pulling someone out or if strike teams waltzed in and dragged he and I out kicking and screaming. It’s a technicality.” She set her jaw. “It’s only a matter of time before they demand the return of what they feel was stolen.”
“There’s nothing to return,” Ezra said. Alana glanced down at her arm and he followed her gaze, then winced.
“Except that,” Alana said quietly.
“They can’t have you,” Ezra whispered.
“Then get your head together and get to work on this arm. If I’m decybered by the time they really get rolling, it’ll be a moot point.”
His fingers laced through her hair and he kissed her hard, holding her tightly with his free arm for a long moment.
“Ezra,” she murmured.
“I know,” he said. “I know.” He let go and stepped back, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “The sooner we get this started, the sooner it’s finished.” He stared at her for a moment as she headed back to the chair. “And the sooner you’re out of danger.”
“This particular dangerous situation, anyway,” she said as she settled into the chair again. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Ezra stroked her hair and sighed. “Is it numb?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “You’d better work while you can.”
“Right,” he murmured, fingers grazing her cheek. “I love you, ‘lana,” he said as he turned away to resume retrieving his tools. “And if they want to get you, they’ll have to come through me first.”
She had to swallow a laugh even as her heart swelled.
“I know, Ezra,” she said. “I know.”