A Night Without Stars (28 page)

“So I don't need to see Chaing again? Good.”

“No, I want you to keep screwing him.”

“For Giu's sake, he's not even a proper section seven officer! He's weak, too. You know I hate that. The only reason Stonal gave him the badge was because he was in the wrong place.”

“But he found the wrong place, didn't he? And he met the Warrior Angel there.”

“What?”

“You heard.”

“He never said. Crud, it was her that slaughtered all the Fallers like that, wasn't it?”

“So he's not quite as weak as you thought, then, is he?”

Jenifa stood up and admired herself in the full-length mirrors on the wall. “He doesn't deserve me.”

“That's what makes you so effective. None of them can believe their luck.”

“All right.”

“And the first thing I need to know from him is what's going on in the Sansone Mountains. Stonal has half the Opole Regiment out there running some kind of high-priority sweep, but there was no Fall.”

“I don't understand. What is it, then?”

“I haven't been briefed, which is crudding insulting. So you're going to find that out. Chaing is helping Stonal. A test, presumably, to see if he's up to section seven standards. So he'll know everything.”

Jenifa ran a hand back through her black hair and sneered. “Getting that out of him isn't even a challenge.”

The phone rang. Yaki picked it up and dialed in the secure code. A blue light on the side lit up.

Jenifa watched her listening to the voice on the other end. Then Yaki smirked and held out the handset. “Speak of the Uracus,” she said. “It's your lovely new boyfriend. He wants you.”

It was ninety minutes before dawn, and Chaing was asleep in a chair when the mobile command center door swung open. Jenifa walked in, wearing a long leather PSR uniform coat with a broad fur collar.

The command center's officers threw some dubious looks at her but kept silent.

“Busy night?” she asked archly as Chaing peered up at her with bleary eyes.

“Oh, yeah.” He levered himself out of the chair, scowling at how stiff his joints were, the twinges of pain coming from his wrist. Yesterday's rain hadn't done his cast any good; it'd gotten soaking wet and now it was starting to crumble around his fingers. “Coffee please,” he told the center's young orderly. “And one for the corporal.”

“So there's a nest Faller on the loose with an egg?” she asked.

“Almost.” He lowered his voice. “It's an Eliter, Florian, who's run off with a Commonwealth artifact that fell from space.”

Jenifa's delicate eyebrows shot up. “What sort of artifact?”

“A baby.”

“Bab—?” she squeaked, then clamped her lips together. “For real?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Her finger pointed at the command center roof. “So have they finally arrived? Are their spaceships…?” The finger jabbed upward urgently.

“I don't think so. Section seven believes it was the latest Treefall that started this.”

“What?”

“I know. I don't understand, either. But right now all I'm worried about is making sure we take Florian into custody.”

Jenifa held up a slim black leather briefcase. “Okay, these may help. Files on Florian. Not many.” She grinned. “Last night was something to watch. Yaki had Kukaida brought back in after midnight to oversee your search request.”

“Ouch.”

“Oh, yes,” Jenifa said maliciously. “But it worked. Florian's a nonentity, but his family's interesting.”

The orderly came in, carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee. Chaing took his gratefully.

Jenifa waited until the orderly left the command center before continuing. “His mother is Castillito. Father unknown; she refused to name anyone on the birth certificate—and paid the fine. Brother—” She gave him an expectant look. “—Lurji.”

“No crud?” Chaing grinned, and used his coffee to wash down a couple of painkillers. “Even I've heard of the graffito lord of Opole. That was what? Ten years ago?”

“Yes. Some of his artwork is still there.”

“Didn't I hear he also burned down the mayor's residence?”

“To be fair,” she said with a smirk, “only the expensively refurbished wing the mayor's mistress used. That's when he took off; National Unity and the sheriffs didn't appreciate the anti-corruption statement.”

“So do we know where Lurji is now?”

“There haven't been any verified sightings for years. PSR believes he's gone to ground in Port Chana, like all of them.”

“Good call. But…this valley is big, isolated. The perfect place to hide, especially when your brother is the warden.”

“Any evidence for that?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I am starting to wonder if this is coincidence after all.”

“If it was planned, it was very long-term. I read the files on the drive over. Florian's regiment service was completely unremarkable. He got bullied a lot, but then he's an Eliter so what do you expect? He's been in Albina Valley for seven years, never taken his holidays, always here when the supervisor turns up for an inspection. He signed up right after he left the regiment—and I mean within a couple of days. There are no entries after that day. He's been a good boy.”

“Seven years without a break? No one's that good.”

“Kukaida made her clerks dig in the right places. There was a ten-year-old intelligence file in Gorlan's department. One of our informants reckoned Florian was some kind of hotshot at writing instructions to control those specialist cells Eliters have in their brains. His kind wanted him to carry on, but he turned them down. That was right around the time Lurji was getting down and dirty with Opole's sheriffs.”

“So he didn't want to follow his brother's path, then?”

“Maybe not. But you're right: It's incredibly convenient that he's got contacts with the serious Eliter radicals.”

“Yeah.” Chaing stared at the new maps on the central table. There were more than seventy red pins stuck in the largest, showing the area to the north, each one a roadblock.

“How big a start does he have?” Jenifa asked.

“Half of yesterday afternoon, and all last night.”

She wrinkled her nose up. “I would have been here ninety minutes earlier if we hadn't been stopped at all those roadblocks. The troopers are good. He won't get far.”

“Yeah. We need to catch him, and the baby.

“Your pride got hurt bad, huh?”

“I keep thinking about it. What he was when I questioned him—a shy awkward loner—that wasn't an act.” He tapped the files with his index finger. “We're seeing connections that maybe aren't there.”

“What do you mean?”

“It could just be that he really is acting on his own. It's not cunning and planning and determination that's gotten him this far, just sheer blundering luck. We weren't prepared for this, not a Commonwealth spaceship—and certainly not one that's brought a baby. I mean, a baby? Why? What's it here for?”

“To give the Eliters some kind of leader they can rally around. Their greatest weakness is how fragmented they are.”

“We can't see the Commonwealth galaxy with a naked eye, and according to Mother Laura they don't know we even exist, never mind where we are. If they have found us, they have a power beyond even the story Eliter propaganda tells. They're not going to sneak around making contact with a pissy little radical movement. They'll arrive in a hundred spaceships the size of Skylords, and order us around like we're cattle. And if they truly are this big super-powerful benevolent society like Eliters claim, they certainly won't stand for humans being eaten by Fallers; they would've blasted every Tree out of the Ring.”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “Maybe this is just the first scouting mission, taking a look around?”

“A baby is not a scout.”

“I don't have the answers, Chaing.”

“I know,” he said wearily. “This is just all so frustrating. I'm so sure we're missing something, that's all. Something obvious.”

“Then we'll get there eventually.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Did you bring me some clothes?”

“Yes. So what now?”

He checked the clocks on the wall. “The troopers are having breakfast right now. At first light, they start a sweep of Albina Valley. We have bloodhounds, too.”

“Looking for what, exactly?”

“Florian, or maybe Lurji. I'd settle for something that'll tell me where I can find him and that baby.”

“I thought you said he's charging away from here as fast as his Openland can go.”

“He's not stupid. I've already underestimated him once. That isn't going to happen again.”

“Ah,” she said appreciatively. “Misdirection?”

“We'll know soon enough.”

At one o'clock, the sweep found Florian's Openland truck. Chaing and Jenifa got to it nine minutes after the discovery was radioed in. Their Terrain Truck plunged through along the overgrown firebreak track and came to a halt ten meters short of the Openland.

“Did it break down?” Chaing asked the corporal.

“Er, sir?”

“Never mind.” Chaing brushed past the confused man and clambered into the cab. There was no key in the ignition. He pulled out a pocketknife and cut the wire bundle below the steering column.

Jenifa leaned against the open doorframe. “And where did you learn to do that?” she asked coyly as he stripped the ends of two wires.

“Misspent youth.” He touched the two bare wires together, and the starter motor growled. The engine caught with a clatter, black smoke belching out of the exhaust. “He abandoned it,” Chaing announced.

“Misdirection,” Jenifa said. “You were right. That's impressive. We've got half the regiment and every sheriff for two hundred kilometers searching the roads. And he's on foot.”

Chaing climbed out of the cab and stared along the overgrown firebreak track. “Get the bloodhounds up here,” he told the corporal.

“Yes, sir.”

Jenifa gave the lush lingrass and thick pine trees a skeptical glance. Raindrops still beaded every leaf, giving the forest a glossy texture. “Do you think they'll pick up a scent?”

“I don't know. But probably not.” Chaing looked back into the Openland cab. It was dirty and worn; the leather on the driver's seat had several holes in it. The passenger seat was covered in dog hairs. He checked the fuel gauge, which was showing the tank half full. “This doesn't make sense,” he said slowly.

“What doesn't?” Jenifa asked.

“I get that he parked it here so we'd start off thinking he was driving away. But, actually, why not drive away?”

“Because the roadblocks and patrols would catch him.”

“Yes. But he had four or five hours' head start on the roadblocks. He could park the Openland in a shed thirty kilometers away and switch vehicles. Or take a train, or a bus.”

“Nearest train station is Collsterworth; that's fifty klicks away. And the local sheriff was there last night, right after you started putting out the alarm.”

Chaing pointed along the firebreak track. “How fast could you walk up here?”

“Average walking speed is five kilometers an hour. Florian is young, so he could probably make seven for the first couple of hours. But…it's uphill and overgrown so that'll take him back down to maybe four.”

“And he's carrying a child. So four maximum. The Terrain Trucks can push through this stuff easily. We'll catch him in a day and he knows it.”

“That's good—”

“No. Somebody has collected him, or there was another vehicle in the valley. Crud! He drove away, but not in the Openland.”

“Makes sense,” she said.

“I need to get back to the command center.”

The Terrain Truck driver backed down the firebreak, snapping several low branches as he went. When they pulled clear of the tree line, he turned them around and started heading down the slope. Chaing looked back. The trees extended all the way up the valley slope behind them. No way could Florian have contemplated walking out. The abandoned Openland had to be a double bluff.

To the north, where the valley opened out, the lake glimmered in the warm afternoon sun. He could make out the lone track winding along the floor of the valley, following the stream that fed into the lake.

“Stop!” he snapped at the driver. The Terrain Truck lurched to a halt, slipping on the mud.

“What the crud?” Jenifa demanded; she'd nearly been thrown out of her seat.

Chaing pointed through the windscreen. “The Vatni village. Of course! We've been going about this from the wrong angle.”

“You mean the Vatni would have seen whatever vehicle he used to drive away in?”

“No.” Chaing smiled coldly. “The troopers found the sheep by the stream in Naxian Valley. Why drag it there from the field it was killed in?”

“You're speaking in riddles.”

“No, I'm not. He's a sheep rustler, so he needs to get into Naxian Valley without being seen. No matter how late at night he goes, there's always a chance the Ealton family could see the Openland's headlights. So he doesn't use it. Why?”

“Oh,” she groaned. “Because he's got another method of transport.”

“A boat. There was a boat at the Vatni village yesterday when I asked them about the space machine. Vatni don't need boats; they're aquatic. He's not walking. He's not driving on the roads. He's on the crudding water.”

“That lake feeds into the river Kellehar,” she said. “Which is a tributary to the Crisp.”

“Which goes all the way to Opole!” His good fist hit the dashboard. “Get us down to the village,” he told the driver. “Now!” He picked up the microphone. “Hokianga, I'm en route to the Vatni village. Send me some backup.”