Balance of Terror (28 page)

“I was surprised when Minslok told me you had left the Republic,” Needann said, not bothering with social niceties. “For years, I had suggested he approach you with an invitation to join us, but he always told me you were not ready. In the end, I stopped asking, convinced that you would live, and die, as a loyal citizen of the Republic. Now, you are here. And I am sceptical.”

That wasn’t what Moon expected to hear. She blinked. “Sceptical?”

“Minslok is convinced that you are genuine. I am not.”

Did Needann think she was some kind of Republic…spy? The thought was so ludicrous, Moon had to stifle a smile of amusement. Unfortunately, Needann didn’t look like the sort who’d join in the joke.

“Your path to Excalibur has been easy—” the alien said.

Easy?

“—arranged for you, with little initiative required—”

What was she saying?
Little
initiative?

“—beyond the basic logistics of getting from origin to destination.”

Moon, expecting more, was silent when Needann stopped speaking. She waited, but the alien remained mute, staring at her with her iridescent gaze.

Moon took a deep breath. Upon reflection, she could see Needann’s point. The zigzag route from Slater’s End to Excalibur
had
been mostly pre-arranged, thanks to Kad, but Needann hadn’t experienced the difficulties around caring for Srin – his convulsions, physical frailties and the consequences of his devastating but necessary drug crashes. With two able-bodied people, the journey would have been dangerous. With Srin, it had been harrowing.

“I risked my life so Srin Flerovs and I could get away from the Republic and their exploitation,” she finally said. “If you’ve read your own intelligence reports, you’ll know what kind of conditions he was kept under. You might consider our escape to be easy – and maybe it was, thanks to Kad – but it was no less genuine.”

“What are two humans such as Thadin and Flerovs worth?”

Moon frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I am weighing relative values, Thadin. Two humans such as yourselves on one scale. Excalibur, Minslok, my entire network, on another.”

Was she also thinking of Dokan, and her loyalty to a family member?

“If you’re talking about the Republic finding your network, it doesn’t look like you needed my help with that one,” Moon countered, bite in her tone. It was time to turn up the heat on Kad’s rebel leader. “Didn’t I hear something about someone called Dokan?”

Moon expected an acknowledgement of the jibe but Needann didn’t rise to the bait. “There are many risks to an operation like this. Dokan being one doesn’t negate the potential chaos that you bring.”

“Then why allow us to come to Excalibur at all?” she asked in exasperation.

Needann looked at her. “I am fond of Minslok.”

It was the way she said it that made Moon feel as if she was about to step on a landmine. Needann? And Kad? And her, stumbling into the middle of a personal drama that may also include…Dokan? Carefully, Moon attempted a retreat.

“You can check our belongings, our clothes,” she offered. “I’ll even undergo a physical scan, if that’s what it takes. We carry no tracking devices, no hidden pieces of technology, to help the Republic find this place.”

“We’ve already checked your possessions,” Needann told her calmly. “And you underwent high-level scans when you boarded the
Unfinished Tale
. But there is no technology that can scan intent.”

Moon lifted an eyebrow. “Then you’ll just have to trust us.”

Needann inclined her head, conceding the point. “For the time being.”

Something close discreetly buzzed and Needann looked down at what Moon had assumed to be personal ornamentation of some kind – a thick bangle around the woman’s left wrist – but which now revealed itself to be some kind of data device. Needann appeared to scan part of the bracelet for half a minute, while Moon silently waited.

“There are difficulties with your mate, Flerovs.”

Mate. It had never been put so baldly before but, as she heard the word, Moon realised that it was exactly right. Srin was her mate, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The man who had forbidden her to save his life if it meant others might lose theirs. Sitting in a rock-hewn room, listening to the flat tones of an alien, Moon believed she fell a little more in love with Srin at that moment. She knew what he’d told her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try her best to negotiate some kind of acceptable compromise.

“His physical system has been compromised by decades of abuse by the Republic,” Needann continued.

“That’s why we came to you,” Moon answered. “The Republic would never voluntarily release someone they had shackled so tightly.”

“It is only a preliminary report, much more work needs to be done, but the damage has reached far. To the genetic level.”

That was always her fear, something that Moon had tried to push off to the side. She had been hoping that Srin’s problems could be fixed by something expedient. A complex cure, certainly, to counter the pernicious effects of what he’d undergone for twenty years, but a cure that could be assembled methodically. Given enough time. But if the damage had reached Srin’s genes….

“Do you have gene specialists in your network?” Moon asked.

“Yes.”

“Because we’re talking about gene therapy here, aren’t we?”

“Do you understand what it is you ask for, Thadin? More tests, establishment of a complex, individualised profile, customised treatment. Gene therapy is ineffective unless repeated. Damaged genes can easily revert to pre-therapy configurations.”

Moon closed her eyes and ran both hands through her hair, dropping them back to her lap with a sigh. “Yes yes, I know all that. But can you do it?”

Needann paused. “Yes, we can.”

Pause. This was the moment, and the question of questions. Moon took a breath. “And what do you want for it?”

The alien didn’t even hesitate. “We want your research. The solar missile. We want SolMil.”

Finally, it was out in the open. Needann had said it. The technology that Moon had originally designed to bring dead stars to life was now in hot demand because it could also reduce live stars, and all of its systems’ inhabitants, to ash.

“
Why
do you want SolMil?” she asked.

“To use as a negotiating tool against the Republic.”

“They would never believe you,” Moon scoffed. “Tell them you have a weapon that can destroy solar systems, and they’ll ignore you and continue hunting you down.”

“That is why we’ve already picked a target for our first demonstration. The Tor Beta system.”

Moon went cold and she felt goose-pimples erupt on her skin. She knew, without asking, why Needann would choose the Tor Beta system. As part of the core Tor group of stars from which the far-flung Republic was administered, the Beta system was where most of the military hierarchy was concentrated. A blow against Tor Beta was a blow against the Space Fleet and half of the Security Force. If successful, an offensive like that could cripple the Republic in one move.

“You grasp the strategy,” Needann said, watching her closely. “I can read the expressions on your face.”

“There’s more to Tor Beta than just the Space Fleet,” Moon countered. “Billions of people live there, working for support industries. There are mining and manufacturing operations throughout the system. Families. Civilians.”

“I have been searching for leverage against the Republic for many years, Thadin. Past actions have been successful, but the cruel giant has shrugged them off and continued on its vicious path. Something is needed, something less subtle.”

Moon laughed, a little wildly. “Well, exciting Beta’s sun to nova certainly isn’t subtle.”

“I want your research.”

“I destroyed it all,” Moon said, raising her voice. “Don’t you read your own reports?”

“Re-create it.”

Moon curled her lip. “In what time-frame?”

“I give you one Earth year.”

The stark words sobered Moon immediately. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, I have read the reports you mentioned. Seen our analysis of your work. Listened to Minslok. I know you are arrogant but also brilliant. Together with the
savant
, Flerovs, I have concluded that you can revive what you thought you killed.”

“So you know we work together as a team?”

“Yes.”

“That, without both of us, there’s no way of resurrecting SolMil?”

“That is my understanding.”

This was the moment when Moon was supposed to tell Needann to go to hell, that neither she nor Srin were going to be party to her ‘demonstration’.

She couldn’t.

She opened her mouth, but no words emerged. She cleared her throat. Tried those words again. Failed again.

“So Srin undergoes treatment while I work?” she finally said.

“We would keep you in separate locations but with full communication facilities.”

“I can’t work like that!”

“Upon successful completion of your research,” Needann went on, unperturbed, “you will be reunited and transported to a location where you can live out the rest of your lives, undisturbed. I will not bother you again.”

“If killing billions of people is part of your long-term planning, you won’t have
time
to bother me again,” Moon retorted.

“I’m sure you overestimate the Republic’s response to an attack such as this.”

“And what about the people in Tor Beta?” Moon persisted. “The families? The civilians I mentioned?”

“By allying themselves with Republic-backed industries and institutions, they declare themselves as Republic sympathisers.”

“No.” Moon shook her head. “You can’t say that. For a lot of these people, they have nowhere to go, no other work they can do. Just because they happened to be born or transferred to Tor Beta doesn’t mean they’re staunch supporters of the government.”

“There are always options available.”

Moon frowned at the other woman, wondering what words to use that would convince her that her entire way of thinking was wrong.

“What happens after you detonate the missile?” she heard herself asking. “Assuming that it works, what happens then?”

“A negotiated settlement. Full rights for non-human citizens. Autonomy for systems that don’t wish to remain in the Republic.”

“That’s not a negotiated settlement, that’s the gutting of an entire system of government. They’ll never agree to it.”

“Then they’ll die. And keep dying until they do.”

“Kad told me you’re a determined woman. And also a highly intelligent one. I can’t believe—”

An alarm’s klaxon interrupted their conversation. Alarmed, Moon looked to the ceiling, towards the source of the wailing. “What’s that?”

But Needann was already moving. In an act oddly reminiscent of Kad at the Phyllis Science Centre so many years ago, the alien hurried to her clearboards and reached for something dark and cube-shaped on the floor. Moon had assumed it was a data unit but, as Needann picked it up and slung it over one thin shoulder, she realised it must have been a getaway kit.

“Come,” Needann commanded, approaching her. “We must get to safety.”

“Is that an alarm?” Moon asked.

“Yes. Proximity sensors. We must leave.”

Like a stone skipping across water, thoughts impinged on Moon’s consciousness.

Where’s Kad? – Where’s Srin? – We’ve got to get away! – Our satchels!

“No.” She wrenched her arm from Needann’s fingers. “I’ve got to find Srin.”

But the alien’s grasp was back, and this time Moon was being forcibly dragged away from the door. “We must go now. Minslok will look after the savant.”

“Our luggage! Srin’s medicine!”

“I shall get someone to retrieve your luggage for you.”

The only crumb of comfort Moon could find was that she had given Srin all his medication. If Kad was repeating with him what Needann was doing with her, then Srin would be in full possession of all the drugs he needed to keep himself alive. But for how long?

Needann paused at a tall inclined desk resting against the wall only long enough to bark some commands into an unobtrusive comms unit perched on top of it. She passed her free hand over part of the desk and a section of rock noiselessly shifted back and to the side. Moon, hauled in the alien’s wake, unable to break Needann’s vice-like grip, was engulfed in darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Moon was disoriented by the dark and the twisty passage they were traversing. The only thing that stopped her from stumbling and falling face-first to the floor was Needann’s steely grip on her arm, guiding her as if through a maze. A long fifteen seconds later, they emerged in a cramped, but at least illuminated, den. In front of them was the tail end of a small ship, not much larger than the shuttle Moon and Srin had thought of jacking back on Marentim.

She caught a quick glance of the back of her satchel being carried through the hatch before Needann turned to her.

“You must get in. We must leave.”

“What about Srin?” Moon demanded again, reluctant to step any nearer to the vehicle. Once she did that, she was committed to an action she knew was irrevocable.

“Minslok will look after him. Everybody on Excalibur knows the proper protocol.”

Moon didn’t move. She faced the other woman stubbornly and thought she saw a flash of admiration cross Needann’s face.

“When we hear the alarm, we head for the nearest ship,” Moon was told. “Minslok will be heading for the vessel you know as the
Unfinished Tale
. He has your partner under his care. He will not betray that trust.”

That was true. If there was one thing Moon knew about Kad, it was that he was built around an immovable core of ethics.

Which made his alliance with a zealot like Needann all the more disturbing.

Through with explanations, Needann grabbed her by the arm again and, this time, Moon allowed herself to be hustled into the small ship.

“Can we contact the
Unfinished Tale
?” she asked as she entered. “Check that Srin and Kad are on board?”