CHAPTER 1
The hearings have been going on
for days.
I don’t know why I
thought it was over, just because we got the truth out. There are
always people who refuse to believe it, or want to analyze what
they’ve seen seventy-four times before they even try to accept that
reality has changed. I’ve been answering the same questions under
oath for them for the last week, so I’m at the end of my patience
when I’m summoned, yet again.
The room-bot tells
me, “Your presence is required in conference room 7-J, Sirantha
Jax.”
Well, of course it
is. My eyes burn as I step out into the pristine white corridor. I
feel oddly fragile, as if my bones have grown too big for my skin.
I haven’t been sleeping well in what used to be Farwan’s staff
dormitory, and they won’t let me see March. They’re keeping us
sequestered to make sure we don’t synchronize our stories, I guess.
The Conglomerate-appointed Taskforce has a great interest in
getting at the truth, which is understandable, given that we’ve
known only what the Corp chose to disseminate for decades
now.
The Conglomerate
spent countless centuries as an impotent coalition of planetary
representatives, holding sessions and debating issues that never
changed anything. Now all the representatives are gathered on New
Terra, jockeying for power and trying to fill the void left by
Farwan’s fall. At this point, the Conglomerate can’t be blamed for
its zeal. They don’t want someone else to seize control while
things whirl in a chaotic spin.
Doesn’t mean I enjoy
these constant, courteous interrogations. I find it difficult not
to flash back to all the “counseling” sessions I suffered after Kai
died. Kai was my pilot first, then my friend—and then he was . . .
everything. I’d never known it was possible to love as he did—with
complete devotion yet devoid of promises. The crash of the
Sargasso, engineered by Farwan
Corporation, reshaped my world, and for a while I wasn’t sure I’d
survive the shift.
That’s behind me now.
The world has changed because of Kai’s death. People won’t forget
him, and that assuages the loss. The other day, I saw on the news,
they’re building a monument in Center Park, a small reproduction of
the Sargasso with a brass plaque graven
with the names of the dead.
The Conglomerate
mines its representatives from corporations and special-interest
groups. Only a few come from genuine free elections, devoid of
corruption, kickbacks, and nepotism, and I can’t honestly say
whether I’ve done a good thing by destroying Farwan. If nothing
else, they were stable, and now we have a great chasm at the
center, around which everything trembles.
But I couldn’t let
them get away with murdering Kai.
People nod at me as I
pass through the hallway and into the lift, heading for the seventh
floor. I’m a public figure now. I always was to some degree, I
suppose. The news vids often flashed images of me, returning from a
successful jump, and the gutter press loved to publicize my barroom
brawls.
Bracing myself, I
step through the open doorway into conference room 7-J. To my
surprise, I don’t find the usual panel of judges and planetary
representatives gazing at me with poorly concealed disapproval.
Maybe they finally believe I’m telling the truth, but they don’t
like me for it. Thanks to me, the status quo has been destroyed,
and now we have multiple parties rushing to fill the vacuum, some
of which are worse than Farwan. Sometimes the truth doesn’t set you
free; it just presents a different set of problems.
Instead I find Dina,
March, and the Chancellor of New Terra. March smiles at me with
such warmth that my heart contracts. They’ve cleared him of charges
since nobody died during the standoff, plus the resultant broadcast
knocked him clean off center stage.
When he thought I was
dead, he stormed Corp headquarters and took the whole building
hostage. March didn’t think it would bring me back. He just wanted
to watch the man who gave the order die.
The woman, Dina,
looks good, as if she’s been getting some sun, and her blond hair
shines with new highlights. When she feels my scrutiny, she
discreetly flips me the bird. I barely restrain a smile.
You all right? He comes into me quietly.
Right after I met
March, I thought I was going crazy— and perhaps I was, but not
because I sensed him inside my head when he shouldn’t be. Since
he’s Psi, he can skim surface thoughts as if he were dipping a net
into the water. With most people, that’s all he can do without
causing irreparable harm. Our theta waves are compatible, which
means he can share a lot more with
me.
I answer with my eyes
and a slight smile. Just being in the same room with him makes
things better. Easier.
The Chancellor gazes
between us as if sensing subtext. He’s a sharp one. Suni Tarn is a
big man, rawboned, with disheveled salt-and-pepper hair, but he
wears real silk. A study in contrasts, then. His smile seems
sincere as he invites, “Take a seat, Ms. Jax.”
Warily, I do so.
“What’s this about?”
I expected to find
another panel wanting to hear the same story yet again. For some
reason, this assembly makes me nervous. March offers a look of
quiet reassurance, and some of the tension fades. If it was bad,
he’d warn me, surely.
“The Conglomerate has
served as figurehead long enough, and we’re determined to
restructure so that regulatory functions return to our control. No
longer will the private sector control tariffs and jump-travel
training. After reviewing your testimony, we’d like to repay you
for your loyalty to the Conglomerate. It can’t have been easy,
staying one jump ahead of Farwan when they were so determined to
suppress the truth.”
After replaying his
words in my head, they still ring with governmental doublespeak.
“I’m not actually sure what that means.”
“They intend to make
you an ambassador,” Dina says with a smirk.
Mary, I’ve missed her.
“True.” Tarn nods,
folding his hands before him. “There are a few formerly class-P
worlds that have reached the correct level of technology to be
considered for addition to the Conglomerate. There are also a
number of xenophobic planets from which we need to recruit
representatives. If they are allowed to secede, they will presume
they are exempt from travel regulations and tariffs as well. And
that’s how wars start.”
We share a grim
silence, remembering the casualties from the Axis Wars. In the
aftermath, Farwan stepped into the breach, offering impartial
mediation. They took control by centimeters, and nobody noticed the
bloodless coup until the Corp had stripped the Conglomerate of all
decision-making autonomy. Oh, the tier worlds still elected
representatives every ten turns or so, and they went around talking
about “issues,” but Farwan held the real power. Until now.
“I’m flattered,” I
say carefully, because this mission sounds like a great way to get
killed. Maybe that’s why they want to send me. I’m no stranger to the notion of peoplewanting
to space me to tie up loose ends. “But my first obligation is to
finish what I’ve started. I have people on Lachion counting on me
to help them get what they need to found a jump-training
academy.”
March studies me with
an inscrutable expression, but I receive a sense that he’s proud of
me. This opportunity would keep me in the limelight, almost like
being a nav-star again, but I don’t want that life anymore. I want
to make love to him in my shabby glastique flat on Gehenna, see how
Doc’s doing, and then go find out how we can help on
Lachion.
“They have everything
they could possibly need,” Tarn tells me. “When we seized Farwan’s
assets, that included their research, and we disbursed the
information to all interested parties. Your friends aren’t the only
ones engaged in genetically engineering a race better suited to the
nav chair. We’re living in an exciting time, full of innovation and
change, but we’ll have to wait and see what happens, just like
everyone else. However, that leaves you at loose ends, I
believe.”
I can see how Tarn
got elected. He has a charming, toothy smile and a persuasive
manner. Maybe it’s a reflex left over from dealing with the Corp,
but I don’t trust him. He has a point, however.
If they have all the
data they need, which I’ll verify with Keri, then the rest is lab
work for Doc to do on his own. I remember those poor women on
Hon-Durren’s Kingdom, and part of me shies away. In my time I’ve
seen some horrific things, but few things have lingered like that
ward of helpless breeders, catatonic females condemned to be used
as wombs.
I don’t like the idea
of genetic engineering, but thankfully, it’s not my responsibility.
The Conglomerate will appoint arbiters and navigator activists when
the time comes, I have no doubt. Still, there won’t be a class for
me to train for a while yet, and I’m not the only teacher anymore.
Everyone who used to work at the Farwan Academy is now looking for
a job, too.
“If they don’t need
my help on Lachion, I’d rather go back to jumping for its own
sake,” I answer finally. “Logging new beacons. That was what I
loved.”
Tarn arches a brow
with an indulgent air, almost as if he’s talking to a child. “And
who’s going to pay you to do that, Sirantha? That isn’t a
Conglomerate priority at this time, I’m afraid, and your ship will
have expenses: fuel, food, miscellaneous supplies. Not to mention a
living wage for the crew.”
Shit. I’ve never
needed to think about a paycheck before. I’m not even sure how much
I have in my personal accounts. Living on Farwan stations where
they comped everything, I didn’t have to worry about such
details.
If they have no use
for me on Lachion right now, then I’d just be living off Keri’s
largesse, and they’re already going through tough times because of
me. Then it sinks in. I actually need a
job, and I’m probably not in a position to turn down an offer at
the moment.
I’ll need to check my
financials as soon as possible, assuming my assets haven’t been
frozen because they came from Farwan. Surely that’s not possible. I
won’t feel easy about it until I find out, though.
“Why me?” That’s a
last-ditch effort to refute the inevitable.
“We want you and your
crew to start with Ithiss-Tor. You’re in a unique position, as . .
.” Tarn checks his notes on the datapad. “Velith Il-Nok, a bounty
hunter of some repute, is willing to travel with you to his
homeworld and help you traverse the obstacles that tripped up other
ambassadors.
“Needless to say,
this mission does present its share of dangers. Given the current
state of the shipping lanes, you will be fortunate to get there in
one piece.” He pauses to let the gravity of his statement sink
in.
Oh, how I wish he
were kidding. But Tarn doesn’t seem to have much of a sense of
humor. And he’s right. Pirates, raiders, smugglers . . . they all
know there’s no strong Corp militia coming to kick their asses
anymore; the time has never been better for them to ply their trade
and push the lawless frontier a little closer to
civilization.
It’s going to be a
fucking mess out there. And it’s largely my fault. I sigh and scrub
my hand over my face as Tarn continues, “So I’ll allow you
twenty-four hours to discuss the opportunity with your crew. You’ll
find the Conglomerate most generous, however, if you should choose
to join our employ.”
“Does this mean we’re
finished with the hearings? We’re free to do as we please?” I
wouldn’t quite call what they did to us house arrest, but it was
close. As I mentioned, we weren’t permitted to fraternize with each
other at all.
Tarn nods. “We have
all the testimony we need from you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m
expected in 12-H for a bounce-relay chat with Ielos.” With that,
the Chancellor heads for the door.
I sigh. Sure, we’ll
discuss it, but I know the smell of an offer I can’t
refuse.
