Balance of Terror (25 page)

“It’s unusual to see you here by yourself, Moon.”

Moon cast a quick glance at the man who joined her at the food counter, took her plate from the programmer’s slot and moved to a spare table.

“What do you mean by that, Kad?” she asked, seating herself. The question held no bite and Kad flicked a wry eyebrow upwards as he joined her.

“It’s just that, ever since you came on board, I haven’t seen you and Flerovs apart very much.”

“Is that such a surprise?”

“From you, yes. Dr. Moon Thadin, the Ice Queen of Phyllis…with a man? That kind of rumour could have cost someone some serious money a few years ago.”

“Serious…?” She paused in the middle of lifting a piece of food to her mouth. “Money? People were betting on me?”

Kad grinned. “You didn’t know? You had quite a reputation, Moon. ‘The Ultimate Untouchable’, ‘The Stellar Iceberg’. You were never seen with anyone approximating a romantic interest. ”

She put down her fork with a snap. “I was concentrating on my work!”

“It didn’t look like concentration to us. It looked like you were
consuming
work, enveloping yourself in it, like a cocoon. And now, I see a completely different Moon. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t have the evidence in front of me. Srin Flerovs must be someone very special.”

“He is.” Moon hesitated. “The reason he’s not here is that he’s…he’s in a drug crash at the moment.”

Kad frowned. “Drug?”

She flicked her hand upwards. “It’s not what you think. I remember what you said in Wessness. You took one look at Srin, shivering and suffering from withdrawal, and declared him a drug addict. But things aren’t always that simple, Kad.”

What exactly was she trying to do? Convince him that there wasn’t always a black and white answer to every problem? That there were complexities in any given situation? And was she doing this to explain Srin to her old partner…or to convince him that her research shouldn’t be used as a weapon by anybody, Republic or rebel?

“He
was
addicted, but it was the Republic who did that to him.”

“I remember reading what Leen had to say,” Kad remarked. “It was unconscionable what was done to him.”

Leen Vazueb was the sympathetic doctor, part of Kad’s network of rebels, who had helped Moon and Srin escape the Republic dragnet on Slater’s End. She had also crafted part of the makeshift drug regime that kept Srin conscious and his body at a normal temperature. Although there had been a couple of clashes between them, the longer Moon thought of the acerbic doctor, the more affection she had for the woman.

“Yes it was. I’d even call it torture.”

“And he’s suffering the after-effects now?”

Moon chose her words carefully. “Leen helped us a lot by designing a medicine that stops Srin’s hyperpyrexia. He appears to be reacting well to it because I now only need to give him a shot maybe once a week. However…however, he still suffers from convulsive attacks. I didn’t notice it at the time but, while we were aboard the
Velvet Storm
, it started getting more obvious. When we reached Marentim, I knew I had to do something, so I concocted my own hare-brained mix of muscle relaxants, mixed with anti-convulsive treatments. Later, I added a cognitive enhancer and, for now, that seems to be doing the trick…for about three days. Then he goes into a crash for twenty-four hours.” She smiled. “At least it’s better than forgetting me every two days.”

“This whole situation hasn’t been easy for you, has it Moon?”

“It hasn’t been easy for anyone.” She lifted her gaze and looked Kad squarely in the face. “That’s why I don’t want any part of your leader’s plan, Kad.”

“We had a bit of this conversation on Wessness, remember?”

“Screw Wessness,” Moon replied hotly.

With her hunger gone, she pushed her plate of food away and glared at him. “I would have done anything, said anything, to stop Srin and I being recaptured. And I don’t think consent given under duress is true consent at all.”

“Are you playing word games with me, Moon?”

“I’m telling you the truth.” Her voice was strong with conviction. “He’s been exploited enough, and
I’m
certainly getting sick of it, even if he isn’t. Kad, all I want is some quiet corner of the galaxy where we can live our lives in peace, not be used as retribution for perceived wrongs.”

“Perceived? Surely you know more about how the Republic operates than that?”

“Just as I know that all my research can accomplish is unleashing a war on the entire galaxy.”

Kad sat back. “From anyone else, that statement would sound arrogant.”

“Guilty, as charged,” she answered calmly.

He watched her for several long moments. “A few days ago, you asked me how I became an anti-Republic sympathiser. I never gave you an answer, did I?”

“No.” Moon’s voice was soft.

“Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes.”

Kad flicked a glance to the far wall, gathering his thoughts. “As far as I’m concerned, I had the kind of upbringing most people would envy. My parents weren’t scientists or engineers but, on my university entrance exams, I scored exceptionally well in the hard sciences. Our entire world changed then. I was accepted into one of the most prestigious institutes on the planet. But, of course, that wasn’t good enough. We got moved to new quarters, more befitting a star pupil. My parents even got promotions. Looking back at it, you could call it a type of bribery, but we thought of it as an overdue stroke of luck.”

He grimaced. “You could say it went to our heads, but I didn’t realise how much so until a neighbour was labelled as a ‘subversive’. I don’t even know what the poor man did. Maybe he signed a petition, maybe he donated some money to a banned charity. In any case, for a year – until I got my first academic posting – he was under official investigation and, well, I’m sure you know what that means, Moon.”

She nodded. She remembered how quickly her friends had fallen away from her when the Republic had had
her
‘under investigation’.

“My parents who, up till that time, had been fairly good friends of his, suddenly turned their backs on him. They’d meet on the street, or in front of our building, and they’d pretend they couldn’t see him. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realised what was going on.” Kad paused for a moment, obviously lost in recollection. “Maybe if he’d lost his temper, that would have provided some rationalisation for me. But he looked so crushed, so withered, that I started wondering what it was that could do that to an otherwise intelligent and personable man. That’s when I started observing…and thinking. And I’m sure you can fill in the rest.”

“So your anti-Republic sympathies began even before your first posting?”

He shrugged. “You could say that.”

“And what about this Needann, the leader of your group?”

“We prefer to call it a cell,” Kad interjected softly.

“Okay, the leader of your cell. Where does she fit in? Where did you meet her?”

“We first met when I was attending a conference.” He gazed unseeing at the far wall. “I’m not sure I even remember what planet it was on. There was a group of us from our institute and Needann was a member of the hotel staff. That’s when it started to go from something internal – my own thoughts and observations – to something external, like passing along information on sensitive projects I knew about or Republic installations I occasionally visited.”

“And how long ago was this?”

“Hmmm. Maybe eight, nine years ago.”

“Whose idea was it for you to apply for a posting at Phyllis?”

“Needann’s,” Kad said with a nod. “It was all part of our long-term planning. The way she saw it, I couldn’t do very much good stuck out on the edge of the galaxy. But if I managed to work my way towards the Tor system, towards the heart of the Republic itself…. It didn’t quite work out that way, but it was a good plan.”

Somehow, Moon had always thought that Kad had slipped into anti-Republic sentiment while at the Phyllis Centre. The admission that he’d been actively involved along those lines for much longer – not only years before she’d interviewed him, but also the fact that it was the sole reason they’d met in the first place – unnerved her. Had she known him at
all
?

“So what’s she like, this Needann?” she asked.

“She’s very determined, very sure of what she wants.” He looked at Moon. “She’s been through a lot, experienced a lot, and isn’t anyone you’d want to cross, Moon.”

Moon flashed him a wry grin. “I don’t think I’m going to have a choice.”

Despite the spectre of Needann hanging over her head, Moon was surprised to discover that she enjoyed the time she spent on the
Unfinished Tale
catching up with Kad, in between spending much needed personal time with Srin. As a research partner, Kad had been quick-witted, intelligent, solid and reasonable, but that was just a small slice of the man she was starting to get to know, almost years too late. She had never really noticed the passion behind his cool blue eyes before, nor the driving sense of injustice underpinning his dry sense of humour. It was like meeting a childhood friend after many years’ absence and, between them, they kept Srin entertained with stories of life at the Phyllis, Kad being the main source of juicy gossipy snippets while Moon related how she struck fear into her students whenever she was forced to take on some hated lecturing duties.

True to his word, Kad steered clear of any mention of the deal they’d made at Wessness, treating the trip more like a holiday cruise and Moon knew she would always value the three weeks they spent together on the
Tale
before it finally docked at their destination, known only by the code-name “Excalibur”.

“I’m sorry, Moon,” Kad had told the both of them, an hour away from their destination. “The location and configuration of Excalibur’s a secret. I would appreciate it if you would stay in your quarters until we’re docked.”

Even as she watched, from the moment the captain announced that he’d be entering the system within thirty minutes, Moon saw a change come over her friend. He straightened, his posture becoming more erect, and the expression on his face more alert. True to his word, he came to collect the two passengers just as the
Tale
shuddered from its docking manoeuvres.

“We’re here,” he told them, unnecessarily in Moon’s view. “Excalibur may appear deserted to you but, rest assured, there’s plenty of crew around. And I’m sure Needann is in a hurry to meet you.”

But even he looked surprised when the hatch door finally opened and they confronted a scene of frantic hurry.

Moon stepped into a corridor that was obviously hewn from rock, a nexus where three corridors met. From every end, one person or two hurried along, their arms holding something, intent on getting to an unspecified destination at a speed approaching a half-run. Nobody looked as if they had time to stop and converse.

“Is it always this busy?” she asked, looking around.

Kad frowned. “No. Never at Excalibur.” He stepped in front of one of the hurrying people. “Keda, what’s going on?”

The woman, petite but so thin she bordered on skeletal, skidded to a halt. Her small slit-like eyes flashed to where Moon and Srin stood before focusing back on Kad.

“There’s been an incident,” she said brusquely. “You’d better talk to Needann about it.” Then she hurried off.

“Wait,” Kad called after her, “what was the incident?”

Moon caught one word that sounded like ‘dokan’ before Keda disappeared down the corridor.

“I apologise,” Kad said, clearly puzzled, “it’s not usually like this.”

Moon and Srin looked at each other but said nothing. At Kad’s gesture, they followed him down the corridor.

The configuration of the station was unlike anything Moon had seen before. She was used to hubs, where several corridors met, straight lines, with small discussion alcoves along the way, large rooms of data units in orderly rows. Instead, the route they took was circular with none of a usual number of avenues branching off it. Instead, ladders led up or down at points that didn’t appear to be obvious. She had a fleeting impression of how sections were organised on the
Perdition
, with short ladders that had led to storage bays and accommodation quarters, but the configuration at Excalibur reminded her of…an ant’s nest.

Feeling a little more wary, Moon gripped Srin’s enfolding hand more tightly.

Ten minutes later, passing by other people – an equal mix of humans and aliens – they stopped by a closed door. Kad rapped once on the still panel and, after a small pause, it slid open. They stepped inside and entered a high-ceilinged chamber, its walls oval and smooth, soft illumination draping them from its apex.

On a small platform in the centre of a chamber was an arrangement of two panels, not unlike the clearboards Moon had used in her lab for her own work. And behind the panels, obscured by the readouts from running programs, and the occasional square of spidery-looking script, stood a woman.

She stopped whatever she was doing as they entered and gazed at them through the transparent panels for a moment, then stepped to one side.