“Just a little joke, Tor.” Deadpan.
“Hah. That’s the kind of laughs you’d expect from a machine. How long’ve you been able to talk like that?”
“Since I was programmed at the police academy on Kharemough.”
“The what?”
“Cancel that, Pollux.” The Commander reappeared on his other side, frowning. “You really do need work… You can thank Pollux for your timely rescue, Starhiker. And I think I can thank him for a lot more — if you’ll tell me I’m right in what I figure was going on here.” She pointed a thumb at the lab and the captives behind her.
“Thanks, Pollux.” Tor burnished his chest softly with her hand. “They were going to start a plague,” she felt her legs weave under her again, “and kill all the Summers with it.”
PalaThion nodded as if it was what shed expected to hear. “Who put them up to it?”
Tor looked down.
“The Snow Queen?”
Startled, she nodded, feeling inexplicable shame at admitting it to an off worlder “That’s what they said.”
“That’s what I thought.” PalaThion smiled coldbloodedly no longer seeing her. “I’ve beaten her at last! Unless…” She shook her head, glancing away as another Blue entered the room, an inspector this time. “Mantagnes?” she said eagerly.
But the inspector shook his head grimly. “We missed him, Commander.”
“Jaakola? How the hell could you possibly—”
“I don’t know!” He met her anger with his own. “When we broke into his office, he was gone. We searched everywhere — a fly couldn’t have hidden in there! They’re still searching… but he had a way out, and we haven’t traced it yet.”
“He won’t get off-planet.” PalaThion pulled at the empire sign on her belt buckle. “We’ll get him.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Mantagnes studied his feet, disgusted.
“Then let him try finding a hiding place from charges of attempted genocide.” She waved a hand. “Woldantuz, let’s put these other beautiful people in the bottle where they belong. At least we’ve got all the evidence. And a witness. Starhiker, I’ll need your testimony.”
“Count on it, Blue.” Tor nodded, feeling her urge for revenge blaze up as C’sunh was led past her. Two of the others followed him before she saw Oyarzabal.
“Persipone?” He pulled his guard to a stop. “I guess I won’t be takin’ you with me after all. Not where I’m bound now.”
“You wanted to make me into a vegetable, you lousy bastard! That’s all you ever wanted!” She pushed past PalaThion to stand in front of him. “I hope you stay there until you rot. I hope you never even see another woman—” She remembered suddenly that he had tried to stop it at the last; and that the few seconds he had won her had made all the difference.
“I didn’t want you dead, that’s all! Even havin’ you like that was better than havin’ you dead.” He leaned toward her; the Blue held him back.
“Speak for yourself.” She folded her arms. “Since you’re the only one you seem to think about.”
He looked away, at PalaThion. “If you want what I know about this, just ask. I’ll tell you anything.” PalaThion nodded, and one of the other men swore under his breath. Tor realized that Oyarzabal’s life wouldn’t be worth a drunkard’s damn from now on, no matter where they sent him.
And there would be no getting off this world for her now, no matter what she did. Oh, gods, why can’t I ever do anything right? She hugged herself tightly, because there was no one else left to hold her, or to hold. She felt PalaThion look at her, found an unexpected sympathy in the woman’s eyes. PalaThion’s head moved imperceptibly, until she was looking at Oyarzabal, and past him.
Tor stepped forward, still holding onto herself, protecting herself, as she closed with Oyarzabal. She kissed him briefly on the mouth. She stepped back again, and they wouldn’t let him follow. “So long, Oyar.”
He didn’t answer her. The Blues led him out of the room. Tor moved back to stand beside Pollux. Why is it? Why is it? That you never want what you’ve got till you’ve thrown it away?
46
Jerusha leaned forward across the duty desk, craning her neck to follow the sight of Dr. C’sunh and his fellow would-be genocides being led away into the detention wing. Oh, sweet revenge! There was nothing sweet in her smile. She had broken Arienrhod’s plot at the last possible moment; and even though she couldn’t touch Arienrhod herself, she had set the Summers on her, and they would keep her safe until the day of her execution. Maybe there is some justice in the universe, after all. “Starhiker!”
Tor Starhiker glanced through the thinning screen of self congratulatory blue uniforms; she sat drinking strong tea under the watchful ga/e of Pollux. She got up from the bench, came striding through the patrolmen toward the desk. Jerusha watched her come with bemused interest. Her clinging body wrap left considerably more of her chunky body uncovered than it covered; she walked like a dockhand, oblivious to the casual ogling of the men she passed. A plain, pragmatic face was emerging through the smeared makeup, and her lank mouse-colored hair was chopped off bluntly at ear length. Ye gods, there’s a human being in there. Jerusha remembered abruptly that one of the men she had just sent away seemed to be in love with that human being. Damn it, why can’t right be right and wrong be wrong… why can’t it be simple, just once? I’m sick of gray. She shook it off as the woman stood before her. “How are you doing?”
Tor shrugged, lost a drape of cloth and pulled it back onto her shoulder. “All right, I guess. I mean, considering…” She looked i away at the doorway to the detention block.
“Well enough for a monitored testimony?”
“Sure.” Tor sighed. “I guess I don’t get to appear at the trial, huh?” She rested her hands on her hips.
The trial would be held on some other world now. Jerusha smiled, understanding the irony. “Consider yourself lucky. Dr. C’sunh has a lot of friends, and they’re all out there.” She gestured at the ceiling.
Tor made a face. “At least once we’re gone from Tiamat, you’ll be safe from them. Your statement will do all the damage that you could, as long as it’s properly recorded; and I’ll make damn sure it is, believe me. I just hope it’ll be enough to drag in the Source. If the—” She broke off as a fresh clot of strangers entered the station. No, not strangers. She stood up, saw everyone else in the room turn to stare with her.
“What the—”
“Arienrhod?”
“Moon!” She heard herself say it, heard Tor echo it, without taking time to wonder. She saw two sturdy Summers behind the girl, carrying Gundhalinu’s body. “Shit… I”
Moon hesitated as she saw Jerusha move out from behind the desk, but she stood her ground resolutely as the handful of patrolmen gathered around them.
“Who’s that?”
“Gundhalinu!”
“I thought he was—”
“Is he dead?” Jerusha caught Moon by the shoulder, all her perspective gone.
“No!” Jerusha saw the anguish on the girl’s face as she wrenched her around, and she let her go in surprise. “He isn’t dead. But he’s sick, he needs a medic.” Moon’s hand reached out toward him, couldn’t quite touch him.
“That didn’t matter much to you two days ago, did it?” Jerusha looked past her at Gundhalinu’s lolling head and closed eyes, his gaunt, sweating face. She gestured for two of her own men to take him away from the Summers. “Get him over to the med center; hurry. And carefully, damn it! He’s worth more than diamonds to me.”