“According to the records, she died during the trip,” Charleton said.
“I’ll take that back.”
“See, the liner never made it to Parmenides,” said Charleton. “A drive malfunction, the logs claim. They stopped at a random coordinate in the middle of nowhere until the engineers could fix it.”
“Fix an Alcubierre drive in deep space? Good luck with that,” said Delagarza. “It wouldn’t surprise me if it took them a year, if they managed it at all.”
“Thirty four years,” said Charleton.
Delagarza asked her to repeat that, since he must’ve misheard. The number was the same the second time she said it, and the third.
“Bullshit,” said Delagarza. “The log’s are doctored. There’s no way, no way, a ship can survive that long without resupplying. The air recyclers aren’t magic, they can’t keep going forever.”
“Doctored logs from fifty years ago?” said Charleton. “I don’t know, Sam. It looks as weird to me as it does to you. But that’s what happened. Maybe they had a mining ship hidden there, even an entire space station. If Newgen was as powerful as people say, perhaps they could’ve done it.”
Delagarza glared at the set of coordinates that Charleton pointed at, wondering if he could derive meaning from them by sheer force of will.
You don’t seem surprised, he thought inwardly.
I had no idea, Hirsen answered, but it makes sense…in a way that answers none of my questions. But at least we know that something happened at those coordinates. That’s better than nothing.
You’re being vague on purpose? Delagarza didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in his voice.
Yes, Samuel, I am. Remember the entire point of having you around? So you don’t know all I know. Yeah, scowl at me all you like. This lady you like so much? She may as well still be alive because of the answers you gave to Strauze during the loyalty test. Think about that for a while.
“Sam?” Charleton asked. “I lost you there. What are you thinking?”
Delagarza shook his head. “Trying to make sense of it is all. So, whatever the liner did for thirty four years, they arrived at Dione next.”
“Yes,” said Charleton, “a straight trip to Elus Star System. The log ends after that. If your sources are true, Reiner has been on Dione since.”
The hum of the apartment’s life-support made it hard to think. Delagarza had never felt that way about his air machines before. He had the powerful feeling that something was missing from the painting that Hirsen and Charleton had painted for him.
But was that feeling his own, or Hirsen’s?
“So, it’s a dead end,” Delagarza said. “Something prompted the liner to hide thirty four years—that’s a lifetime—until it reached Dione. We’ll have to ask Isabella, I guess. If the enforcers haven’t found her yet.”
“What do you mean, ‘something’?” Charleton asked. “It’s quite clear, right? They were hiding from Tal-Kader’s persecution.”
“That can’t be the whole story,” said Delagarza. “Why leave, then? They hid for so long, they could’ve kept going. Maybe it was like you said—Newgen had a self-sustaining deep space station. Why get Isabella to hide on Dione? She was safer back there.”
Hirsen had no idea, either…unless he was lying. How could Delagarza know?
I can’t, Delagarza realized. I’ll have to do the thinking myself.
He couldn’t ask Isabella. She was in hiding, and it was better that way, with the enforcers roaming the streets at night.
He couldn’t ask Newgen, which didn’t exist anymore. He couldn’t ask the crew of the liner since he had no idea who they were and had no access to that information.
Wait a minute.
“Jamilia,” he said, “what happened to the ship? The luxury liner.”
“I’m sorry, Sam,” she said. “I already looked. It was sold as scrap to a private salvage company a couple years ago. I doubt there’s anything left.”
“What’s the name of the company?” Delagarza asked.
Charleton told him. Alwinter Salvage. The name didn’t tell him anything, it was so generic, it had to be deliberate.
It belongs to Kayoko, said Hirsen.
Are you sure? It’s one hell of a coincidence, don’t you think? Delagarza asked. Hirsen was sure. Part of his job as an agent involved knowing that kind of thing about his allies and enemies.
How could she know about the ship…? Oh. Of course. You gave her the travel log yourself, didn’t you?
I gave her the data so she could have her people investigate, said Hirsen. She has access to resources I don’t.
She sure as hell found something, said Delagarza. Whatever it was, it made her purchase that liner and she didn’t bother mentioning it to you.
We had an agreement, Hirsen said annoyed. Her psychological profile suggested she’d stand by it. Her kind isn’t keen on going against their word unless they have a very good reason.
What kind of reason?
Same as anyone’s.
A boatload of money or to save their own hides.
Delagarza reclined in his chair and stared at the ceiling while the hum of the recyclers drilled in his head. He had the vague certainty that, had Hirsen been in control of his body, he would’ve done the exact same thing.
“Maybe it’s better if we never figure it out,” said Charleton. “It’s the kind of knowledge that gets enforcers knocking on your door late at night.”
“Yeah,” Delagarza said, “you’re right. Let’s forget about it, for now. Nothing we can do.”
At least, until the EIF arrived. If they arrived. If Isabella Reiner was still alive.
Charleton went to the kitchen to make herself a coffee. It was well past curfew now, so she would’ve to stay the night. She and Delagarza agreed to it by exchanging a glance. She raised her eyebrows at him, half a suggestion and half a request. He shrugged, smiled faintly, and gave her figure a lascivious look. She got the message.
While the two of them performed their little dance, there was part of Delagarza’s mind that cared little for sex, and nothing for romance. That part of his mind was thinking:
I figure it’s about time we pay a visit to our good friend Kayoko. Figure out what she’s hiding from us.
Delagarza ignored Hirsen’s ramblings. He went to meet Charleton’s waiting lips.
THE MAN in the holo gave Strauze a run for his money on sheer size and raw strength. But where the enforcer’s eyes revealed the cold mind behind his blank expression, Joseph Clarke’s pale blue eyes were haunted and grim.
It was the third time Delagarza heard the message which had arrived, like the Vortex before, during the rest cycle of Alwinter.
“Denizens of Dione, my name is Joseph A. Clarke, commander of Task Force Sierra of the EIF Independent fleet. My forces are currently on course to your planet. Do not be alarmed. You are not our enemy, and it doesn’t matter what SADF Vortex has been saying. Vortex lies. It’s led by corporate interests wearing the skin of whatever remains of the Defense Fleet. I’m speaking to you because you deserve to know the truth. Vortex is here to search for the daughter of Isaac Reiner, who survived the Monsoon assassination attempt from Tal-Kader. You heard right. Isabella Reiner is alive. She is hiding in Dione, and Vortex, along with the Defense Fleet Sentinel, has the mission of finding her and finishing the job Tal-Kader started. As a member of the Reiner family, we believe Isabella is a witness of Tal-Kader’s machinations, and that’s the reason they’re hunting her. We aim to rescue her and bring Reiner’s assassins to justice. We aim to end Tal-Kader’s unlawful reign over the Systems Alliance and restore the Defense Fleet to the protector of the people it was founded to be. People of Dione, we are your allies. Whatever Vortex and Tal-Kader’s goons say—whatever they do—I advise you to be brave. You’re stronger than you know. I urge you, and Isabella Reiner, if she’s hearing this, to hold on. We’re coming. Clarke out.”