The Dark Imbalance Read online

  Pacecca nodded, then faced Roche once more. “I’m sorry if we’re not more hospitable,” she said, distracted by something happening on the other side of the dock. “But what with the murder and the trouble with Guidon...” She shrugged helplessly. “Things have just been falling apart around here, I’m afraid. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to talk to you later.”

  Roche barely had time to nod before the woman was off. She didn’t doubt that “later” meant “much later”....

  she asked the Box.

  said the Box.

  Quare stepped forward. “This way, please.” Natural caution made Roche double-check: “Where did you say you were taking us?”

  “Somewhere to wait,” he said. “Away from all of this.” He gestured at the chaos around them. His expression remained blandly pleasant, with a hint of indifference. “The overseer will report to the dockmaster, who will in turn report to his superior. Your request to speak to the administer will be forwarded to her in due course. I’m sure it won’t take too long.”

  “How long, exactly?”

  “No more than a couple of days, I’m sure,” he said.

  “A couple of days!”

  He nodded. “Perhaps a little longer,” he said. “If you’d care to follow me—”

  “We don’t have the time to sit around doing nothing while your precious administer decides whether or not to see us!” Roche was finding it difficult to keep her annoyance in check. “And even if we did, I’d do it on my own ship!”

  “That is your decision, of course,” he said. “We would not expect you to...” He stopped, suddenly turning his attention to Maii. “Why is your reave attempting to probe my mind?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Roche considered her options for a moment, then said:

  Something in Quare’s face relaxed. “Thank you,” he said, to both of them. Then to Maii in particular: “Please do not try that again. It is considered by my people to be highly impolite.” And to Roche: “Now, do you wish to return to your ship?”

  “No, we’ll come with you,” she said. “For now, at least.”

  “Very well,” said Quare, then turned and led them through the chaotic activity on the dock.

  said Haid via her implants.

  Roche relayed what Maii had told her.

 

  Roche said, hoping Haid was wrong.

  he shot back. <1 don’t know. It’s just frustrating to sit here and watch. Even if you do get past him, it doesn’t sound like this administer is going to be much help.>

 

  Quare took them through two large hangar doors, then along a corridor lined with a silvery metal. A hairpin bend brought them to another chamber, where it was at least quieter if still crowded. He waved them through some sort of security checkpoint, then took them deeper into the habitat.

  Haid asked.

  The Box would take charge of the latter, but she needed to put up a front for its behavior before she started producing conclusions based upon it.

  said Haid.

 

  Haid grunted his dissatisfaction with the situation.

  said the Box to Roche.

  Roche couldn’t pass that on without explaining where the information had come from.

  Haid grunted again.
  <1 have arranged the information so that it will be easy to access,> the Box whispered to Roche.

  To Haid she replied:

  She returned her attention to where they were going. The journey seemed to be taking a while, and had brought them to a relatively clean and quiet section of the habitat. White walls and ceiling and a gray floor made the area seem sterile, although the air smelled vaguely of Human sweat.

  said Maii.

  Roche remembered what Nemeth had said about using epsense to find a way past the enemy’s natural camouflage—and Haid’s half-serious suggestion that Quare might be a clone warrior.

  The girl sent a mental shrug.

 

 

  Roche mulled this over.

 

 

 

  Quare stopped at a door midway along the curving corridor they were following. He produced an old-fashioned key from his pocket and inserted it into a lock in the center of the door. It clicked open, and he gently pushed the door inward. It retreated a foot, then swung smoothly to one side, reminiscent of how some airlocks operated.

  He took two steps inside, then gestured ahead of him. “Stateroom B,” he said. “You will be comfortable here.”

  “Not if I have to wait two days, I won’t be.”

  He didn’t smile. “We shall see,” he said, then urged them inside: “Please...”

  Roche hesitated.

  “I can stay with you if it will put your mind at ease,” he said, seeing her apprehension.

  “That’s okay,” said Roche. “Just leave us the key, and we should be fine.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said. “Besides which, it is ineffective from the inside anyway.”

  “In that case,” said Roche, “after you.”

  He shrugged easily and stepped all the way into Stateroom B, which consisted of three connected rooms. From the comfortably furnished antechamber, Roche could see a conference room, with what looked like a small kitchen or toilet facility beyond that. There was a stale smell about the place, as though the air vents hadn’t been cleaned for a while.

  said Maii. r />
  Deciding that they could deal with him if he tried anything, Roche stepped into the antechamber with Maii right behind her.

  “Would you like refreshments while you wait?” Quare asked. “A drink, perhaps?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Maii also declined.

  “Then perhaps you would like to rest your feet.”

  Roche glanced around at the soft-cushioned chairs in the room, the legs so slender and graceful they looked as though they couldn’t take so much as the weight of Maii’s undersized hazard suit.

  She laughed. “No, I really don’t think—”

  Movement out the corner of Roche’s eye startled her: the door was sliding shut.

  “Security,” said Quare, catching her alarm. “We could not guarantee your safety if just anyone could get in.”

  “Nor the habitat’s if we were to get out, right?” said Roche cynically.

  The little man smiled briefly, but it didn’t touch his eyes. The door clicked shut. “Now, about that seat...”

  “It’s not necessary,” said Roche stepping over to the door to check it.

  “We have something more practical through here,” Quare said, waving them farther into the suite. “Come with me, please.”

  Maii’s sudden interjection was loud in Roche’s mind.

  Roche slid her helmet closed and studied its instruments. Sure enough, it hadn’t received a return signal from the ship for almost half a minute. But Maii wouldn’t have seen that: she must have learned from someone else.

  she called.

  There was no answer.

  Maii said,

  Angry, Roche drew her side arm and followed Quare into the conference room, where she grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and spun him around.

  “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “Why have we been cut off from our ship?”

  He stared at her helmeted visage, visibly startled. “I don’t understand—”

  She wasn’t in the mood for denials. “Just open that damned door now,” she said. “We’re leaving.” When he hesitated, she snapped, “Now!”

  He drew himself up in her gauntleted grasp. “No.”

  She pushed the pistol into his cheek: “Yes.”

  He flinched but didn’t relent.

  said Maii.

  Roche thought for a second.

  “You won’t be harmed,” Quare was saying. “I promise you. This isn’t a trap.”

  “You’ve locked us in here!” Roche said, her voice rising with her anger. “You’ve severed our communications with my ship! What would you call it?”

  “An opportunity,” he said, wincing as the pistol dug deeper into his cheek. “An opportunity to talk.”

  “I’ve got nothing to talk to you about. Let us out of here.”

  “Look, you can see I’m unarmed. Can’t you at least put your weapon down? Please?”

  “How do I know there aren’t troops waiting just outside?”

  “You don’t,” he said. “But I assure you there aren’t.”

  Roche snorted derisively. “What the hell do I care about your assurances?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Roche,” the man snapped. “Think about it! The administer wouldn’t waste her time on a stunt like that.”

  “But you might,” said Roche.

  “I might consider it, yes,” he said. “If I was truly desperate. But I’m not. Not yet, anyway. So again I ask you, please hear me out. If you’ve been cut off from your ship, then that only proves that I’ve done the right thing by bringing you here.”

  This took Roche aback. “What? Why?”

  “This is a secure area,” he said. “Electronically speaking, no one can get in or out. Once the door is shut, we’re sealed in.”

  “And why is that so important?”

  He stared at her then with a look that could not possibly be misinterpreted: it was desperation.

  “Because my real name is Atul Ansourian,” he said. “I need your help. Without it, my daughter—and maybe everyone else on this habitat—will die.”

  7

  Perdue Habitat

  955.1.32

  0150

  Roche held on to the little man for a while longer, searching his eyes for some sign of a lie. When she failed to find it, she let him go, saying, feebly: “But you’re dead!”

  “A necessary ruse, I’m afraid,” he apologized. “I needed to disappear in order to survive. If I hadn’t done that, the chances are I really would be dead right now.”

  “But Pacecca—”

  “Doesn’t know anything,” he said, cutting her short. “To her I’m just another faceless drone to boss around. And that’s what I want her to think. Her mind is weak. I couldn’t trust the likes of her with the truth; she’d be too easily read.”

  Roche remembered how Maii had described the woman’s transparency. Quare—no, Ansourian, if he was to be believed—was making sense in this respect, at least.

  “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” she said.

  “I’m not asking you to trust me,” he said. “All I ask is that you hear me out.”

  “Why?” said Roche.

  “Because I think we can help each other,” he said. “At most I’ve only got another day or so before the truth comes out. And once that happens, there is every chance that both my daughter and I will wind up dead.”

  Roche was curious despite herself. “But if your daughter’s going to die for killing you, why not confess to the truth so she’ll be set free?”

  “It’s not that simple.” Ansourian stepped over to the conference table and sat in one of the chairs. “Please,” he said, gesturing to the chairs opposite him.

  Roche glanced at Maii. The girl was still, concentrating.

 

  she said.

 

  Roche took a seat at the wide wooden table opposite Ansourian. The roomy, low-backed chair creaked beneath her weight, but held. Maii positioned herself a couple of seats down.

  “You’ve no doubt heard the official story,” said Ansourian.

  “That your daughter killed you a couple of nights ago and then turned herself in?” said Roche. “Yes, we had heard something.

  Ansourian nodded, his expression earnest. “It’s an open and shut case,” he said. “Security has a body and a killer, with no evidence to suggest anything out of the ordinary. But for the fact that my daughter will almost certainly be charged with patricide if I maintain the fiction of my death, I would be content to let the situation rest. But obviously I cannot do this. In the next day or so the deception will be exposed, and my daughter will be forced to reveal the truth.”

  Roche was still wondering what she had to do with this. “And then what?”

  Ansourian shrugged. “There is no legal precedent for this situation,” he said. “Understand that we follow reproductive customs that are regarded as unusual by many Castes. The Vax do not have two parents as most do; we have just the one, who creates a child by combining his or her own genetic code with another’s, sometimes chosen at random. The child, always the opposite gender of the parent, is gestated artificially, then released to its parent—and that parent is the sole caregiver for that child. But just as we have only one parent, so do we have only the one child. Perhaps you can appreciate that the bond between father and daughter or mother and son is very strong.”

  “So the murder of one by the other,” said Roche, “would be considered one of the worst crimes imaginable.”

  “The most heinous of crimes,” he said. “Punishable by
death. It doesn’t matter if the child is murdered or the parent, the consequences are the same: two lives are ultimately lost—and along with them is lost a long line of descent.”

  Roche could understand what he was saying, but she still didn’t see the relevance of it all to herself.

  “You say security has a body,” Roche broke in. “Did you clone yourself and kill the clone?”

  The look of surprise and disgust was genuine. “No, of course not!” he said. Then, seeing Roche’s confusion, Ansourian took a deep breath and continued slowly. “Please understand that this is very difficult for me. Under normal circumstances, I am very much a recluse; I am uncomfortable with face-to-face contact. Only one person is allowed into my chamber and knows my face—and that is my daughter, Alta. Until two days ago, she shared my apartment in a high-security wing of the habitat not far from where the administer herself lives.”

  “Alta lived with you?”

  “Yes, and would have until I died, with her son—should she have chosen to bear one, of course. But she is not as antisocial as I. Although she respects the lifestyle I have chosen, she does not feel the same need to remain isolated from the rest of the community. She works—or worked, I should say—in the Logistics Department, supervising the distribution of resources that pass through here to those who need it the most. Perhaps she was reckless in believing that the situation was not as dangerous as indicators suggested—and it does seem that my opinion on that score has been vindicated. But the fact remains that had she not gone out and returned when she did she would have died with me, or I would have died alone.”

  Roche listened closely. Again, the subtleties of Vax relationships escaped her. Did they take lovers from outside the family line, or was incest the norm? The question was irrelevant, yet it nagged at her just the same.

  “Two nights ago,” he went on, “Alta returned home late. When she came in to say good night, she found me asleep and another person in the room with me. This person, she says, was in the process of giving me a dose of poison that would have killed me in seconds and left no trace whatsoever.” Ansourian stopped for a moment before going on. “Alta is a proficient fighter, Roche. Perhaps too proficient. She killed the assailant with little effort, but she did so before we could determine who he worked for.”