“I’m Sirantha Jax,” I say, intending to make introductions first.
“I know who you are,” she says. “And what you’ve done.”
I can’t determine if that’s auspicious . . . or ominous.
Taking pity on me, she adds, “You set records with the Corp before going rogue and destabilizing the galactic economy with the truth of Farwan’s misdeeds. Then you escaped the bounty hunter they set on you and went on to forge an alliance with Ithiss-Tor.”
“Would you have done any different?” This, I decide, will help me take her measure.
“No. However much I regret our current predicament, Farwan was not the answer. They had gone from serving the people to serving themselves. And the alliance was the first good news I’ve heard in a while. I hope it will be enough.”
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” Loras murmurs.
“So it does,” Evelyn responds tiredly. “Which is why I am not sure whether I can trust you.”
“A fair question. How can we resolve the issue to your satisfaction?” In Dina’s voice, I hear diplomacy and echoes of the princess she used to be. She would’ve made a far better ambassador than me, I think, but she wouldn’t have had the job for any price.
“Not with words or promises,” Dasad says.
“Are you all right to talk with them?” Mac asks from the doorway. His anxiety is palpable, even now.
Evelyn nods. “You can go, Uncle Mac. I don’t think they mean me any harm, and if I’m wrong, your bots will make short work of them.”
That explains a lot. On closer scrutiny, I see they have the same dark eyes. He turns to go with a final, narrow-eyed stare at the three of us, but without Hon, we’re clearly no match for two fully equipped Peacemaker units. It would take heavy weapons to pierce their armor, and we’re not carrying that kind of firepower.
I take a seat. “Shall we get down to business, then?”
CHAPTER 22
“What is it you want?” Evelyn asks without preamble.
“To take you with us to Emry Station.” I hold up a hand to forestall her instinctive protest. “But unlike other factions, we won’t attempt to do it against your will.”
“You want the new nanite tech.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question.
I shrug. “We only suspected it was related to the nanite research. We were just sure it had to be important if the Morgut went to the trouble of trying to take you alive. They don’t generally operate that way. We figured once word got around, there would be lots of people interested in you, and we don’t want your knowledge in the hands of our enemies.”
Among the three of us, we outline our mission as set down by Chancellor Tarn and the Conglomerate. Loras and Dina fill in technical bits, and she listens with great interest.
“So you’re forging a central galactic regime,” she says, once we’ve finished. “A true alliance of worlds, not a human authority, but one that governs all races with impartiality and wisdom.”
“That’s the goal.” I may have my doubts that it can be accomplished, but I’m wise enough to hold them. She’s seen enough to disillusion her. Leave the woman some hope. “And we’re building an armada for the Conglomerate as part of that. I think you could be vital to our efforts.”
Her plain face fills with disdain. “Of course I could. I am. My nanites will change the face of jump-travel forever.”
Then there’s no question we want her on our team. I see by the flare in Dina’s eyes, she knows as much. As always, Loras is inscrutable, but on some level I sense his heightened interest.
Mary, I wish March were here. He could read her quietly, then tell her what she most wants to hear. Dishonest, perhaps, but effective. Without him, I’m left guessing. At lightning speed, I review what I know, then I realize we have a carrot to tempt her.
“Interesting,” I say. “We, too, have some previously unknown scientific discoveries.” Dina flashes me a look, but I’m too far out on this limb to second-guess it. “Though it’s yet to be made public, I possess mutated DNA that permits me to regenerate grimspace damage. Right now, we have a geneticist working on an implant to regulate that function and, what’s more, perfect a gene therapy to offer this ability to all jumpers. I imagine you and Doc have a lot to discuss. If your nanites are as revolutionary as you say, they might aid immeasurably in his work—and perhaps . . . vice versa.”
Evelyn regards me with open skepticism. “That’s impossible.”
I grin. “I figure that’s what they said about jump-travel when they first uncovered the tech in the pyramids. I can bounce a message to Emry and ask Doc to forward some of his findings, but the longer we linger here, the greater chance we’ll run into trouble. Emry has been fortified against the Morgut—”
“You drove them out once before,” she realizes aloud.
To be completely accurate, we killed them. “I had help.”
“How do you envision my role in your endeavor?” she asks.
“We don’t. That’s up to you to decide. I suspect you’ll want to work with Doc, but if you don’t like him, we won’t force the issue. If you decide you want to give up science altogether and learn to pilot, we have someone who can put in the shunt, and we’ll do our best to protect you in the field.”
I surprise her into a short burst of laughter, rusty and long unused. Her dark eyes actually shine, and I notice Dina giving her a second glance. I glare at her. Oh, no, you don’t. She lifts her shoulders as if to say, I can look, can’t I?
Evelyn says, “That scenario’s quite unlikely, but good to know my decisions will remain squarely mine.”
“That, I promise.”
“If I am to consider your offer, I will need lab facilities and absolute access to all of your existing data.”
“Done,” Loras says at once, and I turn to him in surprise. He shrugs, adding, “Dr. Solaith gave me permission to make the offer on his behalf.”
Dina bangs him on the shoulder gently. “Good on you.”
I lean forward. “So now you know who we are and what we’re doing. I understand you’ll probably need time—”
She’s shaking her head. “The longer I’m here, the greater risk someone will strike at Uncle Mac to try and break me. I don’t want to wind up making the worst of choices because there are no alternatives left to me. If you’ll give me ten minutes to gather my things, I’m ready to go with you now.”
At that, I nod, and she rises, following after her uncle with the two bots beside her. That leaves Dina, me, and Loras in the VIP lounge. To my surprise, the mechanic slings an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.
“Well played, Jax. This calls for a drink.”
She heads over to the limited kitchen-mate built into the wall. From here one can order just about any drink since we’re hanging out in the VIP lounge. I expect her to need to use her credit spike first, but the machine hums to life. Naturally, Dina keys up something expensive.
“On the house,” Rafferty says from behind us. “I’ve been worried sick about that girl. My sister’s kid, you know. I never saw her much while she was growing up. Never had much use for Farwan.”
I offer a faint smile. “I’m hearing that a lot lately. Funny how once the giant’s dead, people grow brave enough to speak.”
“I wouldn’t say dead,” he returns gravely. “Wounded, but they still have teeth enough to do some harm, particularly in this climate. You’ll look after her, won’t you?”
On the surface it seems like a non sequitur, but it’s not: We live in dangerous times—take care of Evelyn for me.
“We’ll do our best. I can honestly say she’ll be safer with us. We’re farther off the beaten track, and the station has been proofed against Morgut.”
Mac inclines his head. “Good enough. You might want to call that big fella back here. I can’t send the bots out without drawing more attention than it’s worth, and you have some ground to cover between here and the docks.”
He’s right. We don’t want anyone to know she left with us, and laser fire on the promenade deck would leave a trail two light-years wide. This time, we need to be quick and quiet.
“Good thinking.” Dina gets on the comm and tells Hon we need his escort back to the ship.
“Has the mission succeeded, then?” I applaud him for being cagey.
“Confirmed,” Dina tells him. “How long will it take you to get here?”
“I’m nearby. I went to an all-night eatery on level two.”
Rafferty says, “He’s at Stuff-it. It’s fully automated, so there’s no need to close.” At my look, he adds, “No more than three minutes out.”
Excellent. For once, things seem to be falling into place.
By the time we finish our drinks, Hon has arrived, and Mac buzzes him in via the side door. Unfortunately, he brings bad news.
“There are four creeps watching the place, slicker than shit, they are. I make them for Syndicate goons.”
Shit. So much for a quiet exit.
“You’re sure?”
Hon flashes me a scathing look. “What do you take me for? They tightened up when we stopped by after hours.”
“So they know something’s going down,” Dina surmises.
Rafferty paces. “I could let you use the bots. That should even the odds. I won’t chance anything happening to Evie. She’s all the family I’ve got left.”
I smile a little over that unlikely nickname. “If we use reinforcements, so will they. We don’t know what kind of manpower they have on station.”
“Or firepower,” Dina puts in.
No shit. I don’t look forward to disruptor fire. “It could get ugly.”
“What do we know about the four, you saw?” Rafferty asks Hon. “I don’t suppose you got any footage?”
“As it happens . . .” He produces his handheld. “I got good images of three of the four—wasn’t sure we’d be able to do anything with it, but it never hurts to be prepared.”
“Brilliant,” Rafferty breathes. “Can I see that for a moment?”
He synchs the handheld with the main terminal and I watch images run past at blinding speed. Soon we have names to go with the faces and all their known associates. It’s a long list.
“Mother Mary,” Dina curses. “I’m glad the promenade is quiet right now. Otherwise, we’d be looking at a serious body count.”
The pirate includes his shorn head. “As it stands, we need to plan our strategy. We’ll have to fight our way out.”
“Or think our way around them.”
We turn to Loras, waiting for more.
Ironically, he’s gained confidence with Hon, devoid of any facsimile of friendship to shield him from the need to prove his worth. I don’t say that’s wholly a good thing, but he’s more forceful than he used to be, less of a dreamy nonentity. Maybe that sojourn acted as a crucible.