Primary Inversion (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Paperback (21 page)

As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the evening
grew chill and Hilt lent me his sweater. Mercifully, the conversation stayed
light, just a lazy discussion about what holomovie to see. I had no opinion. I
had absolutely no idea what was playing anywhere. We finally solved the problem
by walking into the next theater we found, a place in the park playing
something called
Brain Warp.
The holos outside showed a Jagernaut, feet
planted wide, blasting away with his Jumbler. But then, half of the holomovies
made nowadays had soldiers as heroes.

We sat down on a plush rug floor in a circular theater with
about two hundred other people. Jarith and I reclined on cushions, talking
about his classes at the university. Rebeka and Hilt were eating, and Pulli
bought another glass of that godawful rootberry juice.

After a few moments the lights dimmed, then went out altogether.
Music swelled, the urgent beat of a drum overlaid with a melody played by horns
and strings. Then, suddenly, we were in the middle of a field near JMI. A
Jagernaut stood nearby, a handsome man with dark hair, sculpted muscles, and a
Jumbler snug in a holster on his hip. He took off jogging and we “jogged” with
him, following at whatever distance the director had thought would give us the
optimum view of the action.

Within minutes I knew I had made a mistake in coming. I saw
how the movie was going to end almost as soon as it began. The Jagernaut went
on a mission to rescue a beautiful and remarkably buxom woman who supposedly
had been abducted by the Traders but was actually a Highton spy. The Traders
caught the Jagernaut, planted a trigger in his brain, and let him go. We were
supposed to wonder what horrible fate would befall our unsuspecting hero when
the villains set off the trigger.

The movie made no attempt at accuracy. When the Jagernaut
went to see a heartbender, the doctor’s office was in a hospital. You never
found a heartbender in a hospital. It was hard enough to convince one of us to
go for help as it was. Faced with the prospect of walking into the hospital, a
blatant admission of “yes, I’m screwed up,” most of us would run in the
opposite direction. A true heartbender had an office somewhere innocuous, a
place with no associations to mental health, usually a government building.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. The “hero” spent most of
his time breaking the code of honor we lived by. He cheated, lied, treated his
lovers like dirt, and showed no hint of remorse when he went into combat. It
was absurd. He was supposed to be an
empath,
for pugging sakes.

But what got to me the most was that the actor looked like
Rex, who would never stoop to the kind of behavior this guy inflicted on the
galaxy. Yes, Rex had women all over. And yes, they were attracted to him
because he was glamorous, handsome, and charming. But they fell in love with
him because he was a decent human being who treated people with respect. This
insipid holomovie was an insult to him.

When the movie reached its climax, big surprise—the Jagernaut
went berserk. The Traders activated his trigger and he went crazy in a crowded
plaza, mowing down buildings with his Jumbler. I was so mad by then that I got
up and left the theater in the middle of the scene, walking right through the
Jagernaut to the accompaniment of loud protests from the rest of the audience.

As I was crossing the lobby outside, Jarith emerged from the
theater and strode after me. “Soz. Wait.”

I stopped at the exit and waited for him to catch up. As he
reached me, Hilt and Rebeka came out into the lobby. They looked around until
they saw us, then headed in our direction.

Jarith spoke softly. “What is it? What’s tearing you up
inside?”

“Nothing is tearing me up.” I was so angry I could hardly
speak. “I just don’t enjoy watching trash, that’s all.”

Hilt and Rebeka reached us in time to hear my last comment.
Hilt gave me an annoyed look. “You know, this attitude of yours is getting
tiresome.”

I wanted to hit him in the face. I hadn’t been this angry in
I didn’t know how long. But why? So it was a stupid movie. So what? “Go to hell,”
I said.

Rebeka lay her hand on my arm. “It’s only a holomovie.”

I pulled away from her. “It’s an offense to the people who
go out there and risk their lives every day so kids like you can live safe and
healthy and free to watch banal movies.”

I expected Hilt to tell me I was being an idiot. But he just
shrugged. “I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal about it. No one ever
meant for
Brain Warp
to be a political statement or a work of art.”

Rebeka regarded me. “Listen, maybe we all got off to the
wrong start. How about if we try again? Why don’t we forget this movie and go
for drinks somewhere?”

I knew the last thing I could handle right now was drinks
with them. I made myself speak in an apologetic voice. “I’m pretty tired. I
guess I’m on a short fuse. I should go home and sleep.” The words were a cover.
I wouldn’t sleep. But I had to say something.

Neither Rebeka nor Hilt looked disappointed that I wouldn’t
be joining them. Jarith kept watching me. He stood silently while I said
goodbye to the others, but after they headed back to the theater he said, “May
I walk you home?”

My shoulders relaxed. “Yes. I would like that.”

As we strolled across the park, I tried to think of
something to say. But no clever lines came. For that matter, no stupid lines
came either.

When we stopped outside the apartment building, Jarith gaped
up at it. “You
live
here?”

“When I’m on Forshires,” I said.

He looked at me. “You travel a lot?”

“Some.” I wanted him to come upstairs and keep me company,
real company, the way a man could help a woman hold the night at bay. I wanted
him to make love to me again and again until his warm masculinity banished the
ghosts that haunted my mind.

Jarith whistled. “I’ve never known
anyone who could afford a place like this.”

Okay, I told myself. There’s your opening. Ask him up.

But what if he said no?

“Are you going back to the movie?”
I asked.

“Just to get my coat.” He grimaced. “I promised to meet some
people to rehearse later. We have a music exam tomorrow.”

“Oh.” What was wrong with me, lusting after an artist, someone
with all of the aesthetic qualities I lacked? It could never work.

Jarith hesitated. “Would you like to get together again?”

I couldn’t. “Yes.”

“Some of us are going to the beach on Tillsmorn. Why don’t
you come? We can meet you here at noon.”

I smiled. “All right.”

“Well. Good.” He grinned and waved at me. “See you then.”
And he took off, heading toward the theater.

After he left, I went upstairs. My place seemed dark even
after I turned on every one of the lights. I had lamps all over, graceful
flowers of glass tinted enough to diffuse their light into a pleasant glow. The
walls were paneled in giltwood the color of sunshine. Windows arched
everywhere, letting in copious light from the rings in the night sky. The
carpet was white, the silk cushions on the furniture were white, the sculpted
moldings on the doors were white. The place was gorgeous. But tonight it looked
dark and cold and empty.

I was at the bar pouring a glass of whiskey when Pako said, “You
have a visitor.”

I looked up. Had Jarith changed his mind and come back to
help me chase away the loneliness? “Who is it?”

Pako’s screen cleared to show me the steps outside the apartment
house. Hilt stood out there, shivering in the chill air.

“Damn,” I muttered. I went to the console and flicked on the
com that connected to the porch where Hilt waited. “Yes?”

His voice came over the speaker. “You forgot to give back
my
sweater.”

I blinked. I hadn’t even realized I still had it on. “Pako,
let him up.”

A few moments later a knock sounded at my door. When I
opened it, Hilt stood there grinning. “Hey, Green Eyes, you’ve got some place
here.”

“How did you know where I lived?”

“Jarith told me.”

I took off the sweater and gave it to him. “Thanks for
letting me wear it.” Then I started to close the door.

Hilt pushed the door back open and walked past me into the
apartment. “You know, you make a lot more sense now.”

I regarded him from the arched doorway. “I don’t recall inviting
you in.”

“No wonder you come down on such a traditionalist line. You’re
Money.” He turned to me. “I’ll bet it’s Old Money too.”

“Good night, Hilt.”

He came over to me. “The Ice Princess. Of course you support
Rhon politics.” He slid his finger along the strap of my dress, following it
down my front until his hand came to rest between my breasts. “You’ve got a
vested interest in maintaining the status quo.”

I pushed away his hand. “Get out.”

He pressed me against the wall, his face so close to mine he
was almost kissing me. “Someone ought to crack open that Ice Bitch crust of
yours.”

I snapped. I shouldn’t have, but I did. My combat reflexes
weren’t supposed to kick in without my command unless I was threatened with
direct violence. And Hilt wasn’t. He was abrasive and obnoxious and I didn’t
like him, but he was no rapist. A simple “stop it” would have been enough.

But I didn’t tell him to stop it. I tried to kill him.

By the time it registered on my brain what my reflexes were
doing, I had already shattered my whiskey tumbler against the wall behind me
and was stabbing a dagger of glass at Hilt’s chest. Blood poured from my hand
where the glass had shredded my skin. When the signal from my brain finally
stopped my thrust, the shard was less than a centimeter away from his body.

It happened so fast that even after I stopped Hilt just
stood there, staring at the dagger of glass I held above his chest. Finally he
drew in a breath. Then he took the glass out of my hand. I looked at the blood
running all over my hand, my arm, my dress.

“I think you’d better get
a doctor,” Hilt said.

“It’s nothing. I’ll clean it up.”

I expected him to call the police then. But instead he spoke
in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

He was out of line? I had almost just killed him. What was
wrong
with me?

“I’ll call the hospital,” Hilt said.

I had to struggle to keep my voice calm. “No. Just go.”

He looked at the blood gushing out of my hand. “I think you
shou—”

“Go.”

“All right.” Hilt opened the door. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

“Fine.” I closed the door and locked it.

Pako spoke. “I can have medical help here within one minute.”

I went to the bar, turned on the waterfount, and stuck my
hand into the arching spouts of water. “No. I’m fine.” The water running into
the sink turned red.

After I cleaned and bandaged my hand, I poured myself another
drink. If I got drunk enough, I wouldn’t be able to think. And right now I didn’t
want to think.

“I have pending business for you,” Pako said. “Your netmail
has been waiting for six hours.”

“I’ll check it tomorrow.”

“One of the messages requires attention now.”

I scowled at the console. “All right. Play it.”

The voice of Char Iaki, the Commandant at JMI, floated into
the room. “Sorry to disturb you, Primary Valdoria. We’ve had to postpone
tomorrow’s training session with the fliers because of an engine failure. Could
you do your lecture instead?”

He must have meant the lecture I was supposed to give about
cyber—human interfaces. “Pako, tell him I’ll do it tomorrow afternoon.”

Then I got drunk. Very drunk.

But isn’t it dangerous?” the cadet asked. She leaned
forward. “The fiberoptics and mechanicals are foreign bodies, aren’t they?
Doesn’t your own body reject them?”

The huge number of questions from the cadets had caught me
by surprise. I was at the front of the hall, half sitting on the edge of a desk
while I answered their questions. Iaki had offered me a podium, but I felt more
comfortable this way. And I
did
feel comfortable. I was enjoying the
lecture.

“Most parts of the biomech are grown from my own genetic
material or coated with bioshells of that material,” I said. “It’s similar to
having, say, a regenerated organ in your body. Of course, the biomech web is
much more extensive than that. Not everyone’s body will accept it.”

A cadet from farther back in the packed hall signaled. When
I nodded to him, he said, “What if the fiberoptics malfunction?”

“They carry messages,” I said. “Like nerves. If something
goes wrong, they just don’t carry any more messages.”

“Can’t your brain misinterpret their signals?” he asked.

“Possibly,” I said. “But it could misinterpret signals from
any part of my nervous system, natural or synthetic.”

The woman next to him spoke. “What if something goes wrong
with the person who has all of these enhancements? Most times, if you surprise
people—well, they just jump. But if we wire people to kill, don’t we run the
risk that if their mind malfunctions, the rest of their systems will too? An
insane Jagernaut could do a lot of damage.”

What the hell kind of dumb-assed question was that? “Our reflexes
activate
only
if our lives are in danger. We’re trained
not
to
react in other situations.” I glanced at the wall-timer above Char Iaki, who
was standing across the hall by the door. Iaki had made no move to stop the
session even though we had gone twice as long as scheduled.

I turned back to the cadets. “We’ve been talking over two
hours now. Time to quit.”

A murmur of disappointment rolled over the hall. Then they
started to clap. And they kept on doing it. I stood there at a loss for how to
react. I wasn’t used to people applauding for me. Usually either they wished I
would go away or else they were Traders and wanted to kill me. Socially, all I
seemed to do lately was annoy people.

But the cadets kept clapping. I grinned, glad that at least
someone didn’t find me insufferable.

As the cadets filed out of the hall, Char came over to me. “You
fascinate them.”

“I didn’t expect so many questions,” I said.

He smiled. “It’s not every day they get a chance to talk to
a marvel of biosynthetic technology.”

“Thanks. I think.” His comment left me with the same odd feeling
as had the last cadet’s question, as if I could malfunction like the engine in
a flier. I rubbed my neck, pushing my thumb over the socket there.

“Need a lift to the city?” Char asked. “I noticed you didn’t
bring a flycar this morning.”

“Thanks. But no. The underground is fine.” I actually hated
the underground. But I didn’t want to ride in a flycar. This morning, when I
had come down from my apartment to leave for JMI, I had stood looking at my
flycar for almost five minutes trying to convince myself to get into it. But
for some reason I hadn’t been able to do it.

So I took the underground instead. The commuters had stared
as if I had two heads. True, most commuters weren’t Jagernauts in full uniform.
I was tight and glossy black from toe to finger to neck. I had even worn the
standard-issue black gloves, to hide the bandages on my hand. The Jumbler at my
hip hadn’t helped either. I wanted it because I planned to talk during my
lecture about how it was keyed to my brain. But once I boarded the train I
wished I hadn’t brought it. The people around me looked terrified. Well, yes,
most commuters didn’t carry a particle accelerator with antimatter on their
hip. But I had the safety engaged. There was no danger from it.

It was evening by the time I left JMI. The air was clear and
the setting sun still warmed the day, its amber orb hanging above the horizon.
The evening was lovely. Why take the underground? It was only twenty kilometers
through Jacob’s Shire from here to my apartment. I could jog it in less than
two hours. Or I could take the road, a country lane that meandered for
twenty-five kilometers through the countryside before it reached the city of
Eos. If I got tired, I could catch the flybus that ran along it every few
hours.

I headed out along the road, walking past meadows filled
with soft cloud-grass and the encroaching shadows of evening, double shadows,
one in each pair stretched out long from the setting sun, the other a fainter
shadow from the rings. Birds with brown and gray and gold feathers hopped
through the grass, every now and then fluttering their wings enough to fly a
few meters. Purple-furred animals with big ears loped after them, sailing above
the ground with each jump, momentarily outlined against the bronzed sky, then
disappearing again below the clouds of grass. The scenery looked unreal, as if
it were a holomovie shot through gold filters.

After about an hour I came to a building by the road, a
restaurant and store combined. When I heard singing inside I paused, longing to
go in but not wanting to be stared at. Loneliness finally won. I went up to the
door and pushed it open.

Inside, tables were set along the walls, with a few extras
in the middle of the room. The place was lit only by candles, star-shaped molds
with purple wax that pooled in the points of the star. With the evening fading
into night, not much light came from outside either. A man with curly brown
hair sat on a stool on a wooden dais across the room, relaxed and informal,
singing in a husky baritone. Only a few other people were inside, either
talking to each other or listening to the music. I slipped into the seat at an
empty table by the wall without being noticed.

When the waitress came, she barely even glanced at the Primary’s
bands on my jacket. In a cafe so close to JMI, she was probably used to seeing
officers.

I ordered a glass of gilder rum. And drank it. And ordered
more. And drank it. And ordered more. It was strange. I had drunk more alcohol
in the past two days than in the previous half year. But I was comfortable
here, ensconced in this dusty room with nothing to do but listen to this fellow
sing. He reminded me of Jarith. He didn’t really look like Jarith, other than
his thick curls, but he was a singer and he was handsome.

I motioned the waitress over to the table. “I’d like another
drink.”

“Rum?” she asked.

“Yes.” I indicated the singer. “Would you—when he finishes
his set—would you ask him if he would like to join me for a drink?” Then I
hesitated. What if he didn’t want to come over? Hastily I added, “Unless he has
to prepare for his next set.”

The waitress smiled. “I’ll tell him.”

I had already finished two more drinks by the time the youth
stopped singing. The waitress beckoned him over. After she spoke to him, he
turned to peer across the room at me. Then he nodded to her and disappeared
behind the stage.

I winced. But before I had much time to feel stupid for
extending my invitation, he reappeared, walking toward me. He stopped by my
table and bowed. “Evening, ma’am.”

I smiled. “Soz.” I indicated the booth. “Like t’join me?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He sat down across the table from
me. “I’m Nik.”

“Nik.” Had a good sound to it. “What’d you like to drink?”

“Ale would be fine.”

I motioned the waitress over again. “Bring us ale and rum.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She had that look waitresses get when they
thought you had drunk too much.

Nik glanced at my empty glasses, then at the waitress, then
at me. “Actually, I think I’d rather have coffee.” He smiled. “Will you join
me?”

“No thanks,” I said. “Rum’s fine.”

After the waitress left I tried to think of something clever
to say. But my mind wouldn’t cooperate. It kept wandering. All I came up with
was, “You sing well.”

“Thanks,” Nik said.

“I got a brother who sings. Ballads n’things.” I grimaced. “I
try never to inflict my voice on people. Scares ’em.”

Nik laughed as if I had said something funny. “I’ll bet you
have a beautiful voice.”

“Beaut’fully off tune.” It scared even me, it was so bad. “Only
person I ever sang to was my li’l brother Kelric, when he was a baby.” I could
see Kelric in my mind now, smiling that smile I had so loved. “Guess he didn’t
mind. When he was two and I was eleven, he used t’run up for a hug when he saw
me.”

Nik’s face softened. “That sounds nice.”

I warmed at the memory. “It was.”

Although we continued to talk, I was having trouble with the
words. They kept slurring. But for some reason Nik seemed to enjoy my company
despite my inability to communicate like an intelligent human being.

When the waitress returned with our drinks, Nik gave her an
odd look. It reminded me of the expression my “little” brother used to get when
something worried him. Little. Huh. Kelric had grown into a giant, nearly as
big as Kurj. But where Kurj was hardness and metal, Kelric was sunlight and
laughter.

It was strange to see Kelric’s look on this Nik person,
though. Whatever he wanted, the waitress seemed to understand. She gave a
slight nod and left the table.

I took a swallow of rum. “Kelric liked that lake too.”

“Lake?” Nik asked.

“It was a—this big lake.” My thoughts had wandered again. I
saw the waitress across the room talking to a balding man with a large stomach
who had the look of a proprietor about him. He nodded, then headed toward the
booth.

“You went to a lake with your brother?” Nik asked.

“We—yes.” The proprietor was definitely headed for our
table. “He’s comin’ here.”

“Your brother?”

“Nooo.”

The proprietor reached the table. He gave me a deep bow. “Evening,
ma’am. Welcome to my establishment.”

“‘Lo,” I said. The room tilted behind him.

He smiled broadly. “I’m glad you enjoyed Nik’s show.”

“Yes.” I wished he would go away so I could enjoy Nik.

“Perhaps you would like a change from the rum?” he suggested.
“We have some excellent mineral water.”

“Rum’s fine.” Fizzy water was almost as bad as rootberry
juice.

The proprietor tried again. “Perhaps a lit—”

“Thank you,” I interrupted. “But I’m fine. Jus’ fine.”

He exhaled. “Well. Good.” Then he bowed and left.

Why did they keep bothering me? I unholstered my Jumbler and
put it on the table. Of course I had no intention of using it. But it would
keep away unwanted visitors.

Nik stared at the gun, then looked up at me.

“Ever seen one o’ these beauts before?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not up close like this.” He looked like
he didn’t want to see it now either.

“It won’t hurt you.” I lifted the Jumbler and tapped it
against my temple. “We used t’swim in that lake.”

Nik’s face went white. “Soz—the safety—”

“What?” I was having a hard time holding my hand steady. The
gun slipped, skittering against my head.

The proprietor suddenly reappeared, speaking fast. “Why don’t
you give me that?”

I stared at him, astounded he would ask for my weapon. When
he reached for it, I pulled back and he only managed to push it away from my
head.

And then he clicked the safety into place.

For a long moment I just sat there, staring at the gun in my
hand. The safety had been disengaged. Off.
Off.
I had put a loaded
Jumbler to my head without the safety on.

I swallowed and put the Jumbler back in its holster. Then I
stood up, looking at the proprietor. “Do you have a place where I could lie
down?”

He exhaled. “Of course. Just follow me.”

He took me to a small living room in the back of the
building. It looked like part of his own house, separated from the cafe by a
hallway. As I dropped onto the sofa I heard the faint sounds of Nik’s singing
again. The proprietor brought me a jug of some hot drink, but I couldn’t make
myself swallow any of it.

I didn’t actually lie down, but I must have sat there for
over an hour while my mind cleared. Finally I lifted my head and looked around.
The proprietor was sitting in an armchair across the room watching me.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Drunk.” Comprehension of what I had done had sunk into my
skull. One slip of my finger and I would have annihilated my biosynthetic head.
I put my elbows on my knees and my forehead in my hands. I could feel the
gloves against my skin, the leather shields that hid the bandages on my hand.

The proprietor came over and sat next to me on the couch. “Do
you want me to call someone to pick you up?”

“No.” I stood up, then held still while queasiness rolled
through my stomach. When it settled, I headed for the door, not the one back to
the restaurant but one across the room.

The proprietor came with me. “There are no more buses back
to the city until morning. Why don’t you sleep on the couch here?”

I shook my head. “I thank you for your help. But now I need
to—” Need to
what?
“To walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I tilted my head toward the cafe. “Say good night to
Nik for me.”

“I will.” He opened the door, letting me out into a field
behind the restaurant. More stars showed here than in Eos, though they still
weren’t easy to see in the glare of the rings. I guessed it was almost midnight;
Foreshires’s shadow on the rings had moved up the arch until now it cut the
span almost in half. The two sides of the arch almost met overhead, like two
scythes set point to point in the sky. The air smelled of cloud-grass, and
everywhere I heard the chirps and rustles of the country night.