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“We’ll have to wait and see.”
“We can guess.”
“It may be a very simple and open thing—communication with the ’lectro. . . .”
“Nothing the ship does is open and simple! And do not use that high-sounding term with me. It’s kelp, nothing but kelp. And it’s a damned nuisance.”
She cleared her throat, the first sign of nervousness that Oakes had detected in her. He found this pleasing. Yes . . . she would be ready for the Scream Room soon.
“There’s still Thomas,” she said, “perhaps he can. . . .”
“You are not to question him about Panille.”
She was startled. “You’re satisfied with the answers he gave you?”
“I am satisfied that he’s too much for you to handle.”
“I think you’re overly suspicious,” she said.
“With this ship you cannot be too suspicious. You suspect everything and know you’ll miss something.”
“But they’re just two. . . .”
“The ship ordered this.” There was a long pause while Oakes continued to stare up at her. “Your term: order. Is that not so?”
“As far as we can determine.”
“Do you have any indication, even a faint hint, that Thomas and not the ship initiated this?”
“There’s only one order from Ship adding this . . . this Panille to the Colony roster.”
“You hesitated over his name.”
“It slipped my mind!”
Now she was nervous and angry. Oakes found himself enjoying that very much. This Legata Hamill had potential. She would have to be broken of that habit, however, saying Ship rather than the ship.
“You don’t find the poet attractive?”
“Not particularly.”
The fingers of her left hand twisted a comer of her toga.
“And there’s no record of communication between Thomas and the ship?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t find that odd?”
“What do you mean?”
“Thomas had to come from hyb. Who ordered it? Who briefed him?”
“There’s no record of any such communication.”
“How could there be no record of something we know took place?”
Now fear edged her anger. “I don’t know!”
“Haven’t I warned you to suspect everything?”
“Yes! You tell me to suspect everyone!”
“Good . . . very good.”
He turned back to face the light of the empty holofocus.
“Now, go and look some more. Perhaps there’s something you’ve missed.”
“Do you know of something I’ve missed?”
“That’s for you to find out, my dear!”
He listened to the whisk-whisk of her clothing as she hurried from the room. There was a brief flare of light from the outer passage as she opened the hatch, then shadows once more and she was gone.
Oakes switched from replay to real-time and coded in the passage pickups to follow her progress as she took the turn to Records. He switched from pickup to pickup, watching until she sat down at a scandesk in the command level of Records and called for the information she wanted. Oakes checked the readouts. She was asking for any messages between the ship and Pandora, all references to Raja Thomas and Kerro Panille. She did not overlook Hali Ekel.
Good.
Her next step would be to use some of Lewis’ people for actual surveillance. Oakes knew she already had scanned the Records data once, but now she would look even harder, seeking codes or other subterfuge. At least, he hoped that was her intent. If the secret were there, she could find it. She simply needed to be challenged, driven, goaded into it.
Suspect everything and everyone.
He shut down the holo and scowled at the darkness. Soon, very soon, he would have to go groundside for good. No returning to the dangerous confines of the ship. Pandora was dangerous enough, but the need for his own hole, a nest where he could not be watched by the ship increased with terrifying speed. This mechanical monster! He knew it followed every move he made shipside. It’s what I would do.
There were some who thought the ship’s influence extended farther. But the Redoubt would solve all of that. Provided Lewis had not failed him. No . . . no chance of that. This long silence from Lewis had to be some internal problem with the clones. There were too many fail-safe signals for real disasters. None of the signals had been activated. Something else was happening down at the Redoubt. Perhaps Lewis is preparing a pleasant surprise for me. Just like him.
Oakes smiled to himself, nursing the privacy of his innermost thoughts. You do not know what I plan, Mechanical Monster. I have plans for you.
He had plans for Pandora, too, big plans. And the ship was no part of them. Other plans for Legata. She would have to go to the Scream Room soon. Yes. She had to be made more trustworthy.
Chapter 21
Nostalgia represents an interesting illusion. Through nostalgia, humans wish for things that never were. The positive memory is the one that sticks. Over several generations, the positive memory tends to weed out more and more of what really existed, refining down to a distillation of haunted desires.
—Shipquotes
FOR THE first time, Waela considered refusing an assignment. Not out of fear—she had survived in the research subs where no one else had, and still she accepted the fact that this project must continue at all costs. Beyond instinct, she knew that the ’lectrokelp was the most important factor in Colony life. Survival.
I’ve been down there and I survived. I should lead the new team.
This thought dominated her awareness as she and Thomas approached the bustle of early dayside activity around the new sub he was having rushed to completion.
Thomas worried her. One blink he seemed like a nice-enough fellow; the next . . . what? His mind appeared to wander.
He hasn’t been out of hyb long enough to handle himself here.
They stopped a few meters from the work perimeter and she stared at what was taking shape under the brilliant lights. All this energy—all those workers. They were like insects intent on a giant egg. She tried to fathom the sense of this thing. It did make a certain sense . . . but a transparent core of plaz? They had always used plasma glass in the subs, but this detachable core constructed entirely of plaz was a new concept. She could see that it was going to be crowded in there and didn’t know if she would like that.
Why Thomas? Why did they put him in charge?
She recalled their walk across the compound and into the LTA hangar. He had been too busy giving orders to her for him to see the telltale shadow-flicker of a Hooded Dasher breaking past the sentries. She had cooked it in mid-leap with a hipshot from her lasgun—and immediately began to shiver when she realized that she had almost left the weapon in her cubby. This perimeter was supposed to be secure, the sentries the best.
Thomas had barely noticed.
“Quick little devils,” he said, calmly. “By the way, there’s a poet coming onto our team from Ship.”
“A poet? But we need. . . .”
“We will get a poet because Ship is sending us a poet.”
“But we asked for . . .”
“I know what we asked for!”
He sounded like a man suppressing his own misgivings.
She said: “Well, we still need a systems engineer for . . .”
“I want you to seduce this poet.”
She had trouble believing what she had heard.
Thomas said: “Your skin’s a regular rainbow when you get upset. Just consider this a team assignment. I’ve seen a holo of the poet. He’s not unattractive in . . .”
“My body is my own!” She glared at him. “And nobody—not you, not Oakes, not Ship, tells me who I will or will not let into my body.”
They were stopped in the compound by then and she was surprised to see his hands up and a grin on his face. She realized that she had instinctively raised her las
gun to focus between his eyes. Without reducing her furious glare, she lowered the gun and holstered it.
“Sorry,” he said. And they resumed their walk toward the hangar. Presently, he asked: “How important is the kelp team to you?”
He should know that! Everyone knew, and since Thomas had been groundside he had shown an amazing ability to seek out critical information.
“It’s everything to me.”
Words began to pour from him. He wanted to know if Panille was a free agent. Was Panille really sent by Ship? Could Panille be working for Oakes or this Lewis people mentioned in such fearful tones. Who? Who? Doubts—a cascade of doubts.
But why the hell should she have to seduce Panille to find out? There was no satisfaction in the answer Thomas gave.
“You have to get through all of Panille’s barriers, all of his masks.”
Damn!
“Just how important is this project to you?” Thomas demanded.
“It’s vital . . . not just to me but to the entire Colony.”
“Of course it is. That’s why you must seduce this poet. If he’s to be a working member of this very bizarre team, there are things we must know about him.”
“And a hold we must have on him!”
