Omega Games (9 page)

“Terran, female,” the machine soldier said, switching to that language. “You are claimed under colonial charter by Mercy House.”

Claimed
and
mercy
were two good words. Under the circumstances, ones that I liked very much.

“Terran, male,” the drone holding Reever said. “You are claimed under colonial charter by Games Master Drefan.”

“I don’t think they’re going to harm us,” Reever said. “We may be considered salvage, or property, until we can identify ourselves to the colonists.”

“Wait,” I said as the drone holding me and two others began to move in one direction, and the one with Reever and its companions went in another. Both went toward the colony domes, but Reever’s drones were headed toward the west section, while mine turned to the east. “We are together, husband and wife. We can’t be separated.” They did not stop.
"Duncan.”

“Don’t fight them,” Reever said over my suit com. “They are taking us to different domes. As soon as I can free myself, I will come for you. I will find you.”

That was the last thing I heard him say as the drones separated and took him out of com range.

The drone carrying me and two others traveled across the plain to the largest of the eastern domes. We entered the pressurized shelter through a series of airtight corridors. In each corridor we were scanned and subjected to various forms of intensive biodecon, including energy sweep, vacuum, and surface spray. Although the drednocs were not living beings, and would be difficult to contaminate, they were treated as if they were as alive as me.

Something was very wrong here.

At last we entered the main area under the dome. The colonists had built their shelters in various sizes on elevated foundations, forming walkways beneath them. This collection of shelters ranged from single-level dwellings to more elaborate multiplexes.

I was brought to the largest structure, near the center of the dome, and taken on a lift to the lowest level. There the drednocs escorted me to a large empty room, where we waited for several minutes.

My com relayed a warning buzz indicating the low level of oxygen in my air tank. I tried to persuade the machine soldier holding me to release me from its grip so that I could remove my helmet, but it did not respond. My lungs had begun to burn when at last someone living came in.

The small, dark female who came to stand in front of the drednocs appeared to be Terran, so I addressed her as such. I had to speak loudly to be heard through my breather and helmet. “Tell them to release me. My air is running out.”

“Hang on.” She released my collar seal, lifted the helmet away from my head, and removed the breather covering the lower half of my face. She did all this while standing as far away from me as she could.

“You’ve got air,” she said. “So say something.”

I dragged in delicious cool air scented with some sort of alien spice. “I thank you.”

The other woman wore fitted black garments and a blade belt strapped around her hips. Three small, thin circlets of gleaming silver pierced her face in interesting places: the side of her nose, the top of one ear, and the center of her left eyebrow. Her eyes were the color of a d’narral blossom, pure, strong violet, with dark golden stars around each pupil. She had applied some cosmetics to her face, judging by the enhanced tone of her cheeks, lips, and eyelids. Thick, shiny brown hair fell over her shoulders down to her hips. She looked to be equal in height and weight to me.

“Salvage item four-oh-seven-B,” the drednoc reported. “Terran, female, living.”

“I can see that for myself, bolt head. Lights.” As the emitters brightened, the woman tipped her head to one side and studied my face. “Well, now. You look like you could be my little sister.”

I didn’t know how common my attributes were among Terrans. I had only shared a superficial resemblance to one Iisleg female: Resa, the healer who had been like a sister to me.

I didn’t see myself in this woman’s narrow features, but I thought it better not to insult her by stating such an opinion.

“I doubt we’re siblings,” she told me. “The lizards ate my parents before they could make me a little brother or sister. Perhaps we’re distant cousins. What’s your mother’s name?”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her that I had been cloned from the cells of a madman and incubated in a machine. No one ever reacted favorably to hearing that.

“None of my business. Gotcha.” She lifted the edge of the makeshift bandage I had tied around my head. “Nasty-looking cut.” She pinched my cheek, painfully tugging the skin out. “Anyone else in there?”

“She scans clean,” a disgruntled male voice said. “Thanks so much for waiting for my signal, Beautiful. ”

Beautiful glanced at the wall. “She did just crash a ship out there. Her skin is tight, she’s lucid, and she hasn’t tried to kill anyone. I don’t think we need a full workup.”

“No, let’s permit her to run amok instead,” the wall said back. “It’ll make life around here that much more interesting.”

“You worry too damn much.” The female directed the drednoc to release me, and helped me out of the suit. “She’s wearing Jorenian gear. Borrowed, or stolen.” As I stiffened, she eyed me. “She doesn’t like being called a thief. Have you got a name, or should we just call you ‘salvage item four-oh-seven-B? ’ ”

Reever had told me not to identify myself, but if I did not answer her, she might grow hostile. I swallowed to ease the dryness of my throat. “I am Resa.”

“We did not mean to intrude on your territory.” I immediately realized that I had said the words in Iisleg, and quickly repeated it in the pure Terran that my husband spoke.

“I understand you,” she said back to me in perfect Iisleg. Then, switching to Terran, she added, “Half the slaves I started out with were bred on your ice ball, thanks to some of your friends.”

Her hostility puzzled me as much as her references. “It is not my ice ball. I have no friends involved in slavery.”

“We’ll get to that.” She braced her hands against the insides of her arms and tapped her fingertips against her sleeves. “Why did Davidov shoot you down?”

She knew we had not crashed by accident. I tried to think of an excuse, but fear for Reever clouded my head. Then an idea occurred to me.

“I do not know anyone named Davidov,” I said. “But my husband might. The drones that came to our ship took him to another dome, on the west side of the colony. If you would bring him here, I am certain he can explain everything.”

“If your husband is young and healthy, then Drefan owns him until his salvage debt is repaid. And you’re a terrible liar.” She tilted her head. “Davidov and his thugs haven’t let anyone near Trellus for the better part of a year. He barely drops enough to keep us alive, so no way would he force down your little ship just for kicks. What’s the deal?”

Why would Alek blockade the entire colony? “No one kicked us, and we made no deal. I had thought the colony was under quarantine.”

“We are. Davidov’s quarantine.” Bitterness tainted the smile she offered me. “How did he put it? No one lands, and no one leaves. He’s destroyed every transport we’ve tried to send out, and jams every distress signal we’ve transmitted.”

In the future I was going to pay very strict, devoted attention to what the hair on the back of my neck did. “Why is Davidov forcing the colony to live in isolation like this?”

“No one knows. He won’t tell us.” She gave me a long, measuring look. “If you’re part of his game, I’m not playing it. Cat, forward that crazy bastard’s relays in here. I want the ones on the bounty, with the images.”

The voice from the wall protested. “Mercy, if you show your hand—”

“What’s she going to do?” she snapped. “Cry? Beat up the dreds? Bite my head off? She’s maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“So are you,” Cat said, his voice growing. “We won’t know anything about her until we do a full workup.”

“Later. Forward the relays.”

The display screen on the wall flickered, and began showing a series of relay vids written in multiple languages. On each one was an image of my face as well as Reever’s. I assumed they were from the time he and Cherijo resided on Kevarzangia Two.

“So,
Resa.
” Mercy moved in until her breath touched my cheek, and her eyes bored into my own. “I’ll be generous and assume that gash on your head made you momentarily forget that your name is Cherijo Grey Veil. The bounty, though, that’s going to be harder to explain.”

I sighed. “It is complicated.”

“I can only imagine.” She folded her arms. “Davidov has been offering four million stan credits to anyone who brings you and your husband to him, but the minute he has you, he forces you to crash-land here. Did something change? Why did he want you in the first place?” When I began to reply, she lifted one finger. “Don’t make up any new stories. I’m really not in the mood.”

“We did not know Davidov was the trader offering the bounty,” I told her. “We met with him because he was once my husband’s friend, and he claimed to have information about it. He told us that Trellus was under its own quarantine, and tried to talk me into coming to the colony. He offered to smuggle me down during his supply drop.”

“That sounds screwed up enough to be the truth. Lights down. So.” The golden stars in her violet eyes expanded as the emitters dimmed. “Any particular reason he decided that it had to be you? Maybe you being in so tight with the Hsktskt?”

“I am not tight with anyone,” I said.

“You went to their planet.” Malice sharpened her voice. “You saved them from that plague. I call that pretty tight.”

She did not care for the Hsktskt; that much was evident. I would have to make her believe I didn’t either.

“I was forced by the Faction to go to Vtaga.” I kept my eyes down and my tone submissive, as if I were answering an Iisleg male. “They threatened to begin the war again if I did not help them. While I was there I was abducted by criminals, several times, and my husband and child were nearly killed.”

Mercy didn’t say anything for a time. Then the lines around her nose and mouth slowly disappeared. “Obviously you got away.”

“I was very lucky.” I decided to change the subject. “Davidov told us that the colony had instituted the quarantine. He insinuated that there were medical reasons for it.”

“Oh, there’s a psychiatric reason,” Mercy said. “He’s a fucking lunatic.” She took the medical case one of the drednocs had brought in and opened it. “You pack a lot of supplies. What sort of doctor are you, anyway?”

“I’m a surgeon. I specialize in cardiothoracic procedures, but I have worked as a trauma physician and a battlefield medic.” I saw her expression change. “Do you need a doctor here?”

“Yes,” the wall said.

“No.” Mercy began to pace the length of the room. “All right, change of plans. I can’t release you into the general population. Too many people have seen these relays. They’ll assume you’re in with Davidov, and you’ll end up dangling from a transmitter or turning into a lump of ice at the bottom of a crater.” She raised her voice. “Cat? Get your ass in here.”

Before Mercy finished speaking, Squilyp hopped into the room.

I ran to him, but stopped short as I realized the male was not my friend the Senior Healer. This Omorr had a wide, gray-green scar running the length of one arm, which, like the rest of his form, bulged with muscular development. Several black spiral tattoos encircled his outer gildrells. A bronze leather weapons halter crisscrossed his bare chest, gleaming with sheathed Omorr fighting knives. More dark brown leather covered him from the waist down, and a spiked boot encased his one broad foot.

I gaped at him.
“Dævena Yepa.”

“No, Omorr male.” He stood his ground while his gildrells flared wildly with nerves. When I opened my mouth to speak again, he interrupted with, “Don’t you even
think
about spitting on me.”

“She’s not from the homeworld,” Mercy told him, and patted his arm. “Cherijo, this is Cataced, my Omorr business manager, junior partner, and the chief pain in my ass. Cat, this is Cherijo, mysterious surgeon with very large bounty on her head.”

I considered asking her to call me Jarn, but the explanation as to why might make her suspicions about me return. While I was here, I would have to answer to my former self’s name. “I am happy to meet you, Cataced.”