Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (54 page)

"You
erased
too
much,
too
well,"
he
said.
"So
well
that
we've come
to
understand
that
we
can
probably
trust
any
staff
members who
do
show
up
in
the
local
records—because
if
they
were
members
of
your
group,
their
records
would
have
vanished,
too."

"So
you
can
take
us
all,
then?"

"We
could—although
not
those
of
your
people
who
never
came
to work
for
us,"
he
said.
"But
as
I
said,
we
won't.
You'll
all
be
allowed to
go."

Now
her
face
was
puzzled.

"Why?
We
infiltrated
your
organization,
took
advantage
of
your people—learned
what
you're
up
to—and
you
expect
me
to
believe you'll
just
stand
back
and
let
us
walk
away?"

"You
forgot
to
mention
the
nine
of
our
Others
who
have
vanished,"
Bleys
said.
"They're
dead,
aren't
they?"

Her
face
froze.

"I
think
so,"
she
said
softly,
after
a
moment.
Her
voice
rose
just
a little
as
she
continued.
"But
we
didn't
do
it!"

"Your
allies,
again?
The
people
you
insist
don't
exist,
for
you
to have
loyalty
to?
The
people
who
sent
the
armed
men
we
just
disarmed
in
the
foyer,
that
you
said
weren't
yours
to
control?"

Her
lips
twitched,
but
she
said
nothing.

"You
can
still
go,"
he
said,
more
softly.

"Why?"
she
asked
once
more,
her
quiet
voice
carrying
a
freight of
intensity.
"Why
would
you
do
that?"

"What
would
we
do
with
you?"
Bleys
said,
spreading
his
hands
as if
dropping
a
burden.
"We
have
no
jails,
and
no
desire
to
get
caught up
in
the
public
legal
process
that
would
have
to
result
if
we
accused
you,
to
the
authorities,
of
some
crime,
or
tried
to
take
some sort
of
fraud-based
civil
legal
action."

He
could
see
she
had
already
thought
of
the
only
other
alternative.

"We
don't
want
to
kill
you
all,
either,"
he
said,
nodding
to
show her
he
understood
what
she
was
thinking.
"It
would
make
no
sense.

You
and
your
people
no
longer
present
a
danger
to
us,
and
killing you
all
would
be
risky,
in
a
number
of
ways.
We're
averse
to
taking risks
to
no
purpose."

"Aren't
you
worried
we
might
expose
you
to—to
the
governments
here
on
Ceta?
Or
the
media?"

He
shrugged.

"What
would
that
gain
you?"
he
said.
"Beyond
revenge,
of course—and
I
don't
think
that
kind
of
pettiness
is
part
of
your
character."

He
smiled
again.

"And,
of
course,
there's
the
fact
you
couldn't
credibly
expose
us without
exposing
yourselves...."

She
looked
at
him
silently.
He
thought
she
was
evaluating
both his
words
and
the
intent
behind
them.

"All
right,"
she
said,
finally.
"I
believe
you."

She
smiled
now,
herself,
a
little
archly.

"I
have
to
say,
you're
as
logical
a
thinker
as
anyone
I've
ever
met," she
went
on.
"Most
people
would've
gotten
their
blood
up,
wanting action
of
some
sort."

"Even
Dan?"

"You
picked
up
on
that,
then,"
she
said.
"It
was
a
mistake
to mention
him,
I
admit
it.
But
I
doubt
it
can
hurt
me—hurt
us." "Dan
was
a
partner
of
yours
when
you
started
your
Others?" "Yes,"
she
said. "Where
is
he?"

"I
don't
know,"
she
said.
"He
vanished—it
must
be
fifteen
years ago
or
more."
She
shook
her
head.

"Our
relationship
had
soured,
and
he
was
restless.
He'd
always been
a
risk-taker,
wanting
to
push
for
something
else,
something more—he
couldn't
stand
being
retired,
or
even
semi-retired.
He
was always
impetuous;
so
when
he
vanished,
one
day,
we
weren't
surprised.
But
we
never
heard
from
him
again."

"Are
you
telling
me,"
Bleys
asked,
"that
he
constitutes
no
danger
to
us—that
he's
not
among
those
of
your
Others
who
didn't
try to
become
staff
here,
but
are
still
waiting
out
in
the
Cetan
population,
unknown
to
us?"

"He's
not,
as
you
put
it,
'waiting'
out
there,"
she
said,
showing
a
little
amusement.
"And
you
know
very
well
I'm
not
telling
you
he's no
danger
to
you....
Who
knows
what
might
be
in
the
mind
of someone
who
hasn't
been
on
the
scene
for
fifteen
years?" She
became
more
serious.