Resistance: Hathe Book One (36 page)

“
You
think you’ve hit on something?” Hope chased through him.

“
You
bet.” Ferdo’s head was almost swelling with excitement as he stood
there as cocky as all hell. “We’ve found their communicator. Those
innocuous scraps of material are a sight more than they appear.
Hopefully, in a few days we’ll figure out how to make them
work.”

“
Can
you keep on it full time?” was all Hamon wanted to know.

“
Not
quite. The Colonel won’t let us drop our other stuff.”

“
Leave that to me. You’ve got a horde of technicians to take
over routine jobs. You just concentrate on that gadget.”

“
With pleasure. Mind you, if they are as sophisticated as I
suspect, they could still stump us.”

“
Not
a bit of it. We all have the greatest faith in you. Don’t we,
gentlemen?” There was a hearty chorus of assent.

Hamon
sat, grinning, for almost a full minute. Beaming at one and all and
not caring how uneasy he made his men with his display of
benevolence.

“
Back to work, everybody,” he finally said. “As for me, I
think I’ll join my wife’s step-cousin for the evening. This news
deserves a celebration, and the kind of indulgences he favors
should fit the bill nicely. And don’t tell me it’s too early to
party, Ferdo, because for once I don’t care.”

All
Marthe knew of his doings that night was that he was late home and
that he was happier than she’d seen him for some time. And drunker.
He was still enough of both when he woke up to make for a more
enjoyable morning than they’d had in some time. Not long after he
left for work, she found out why.

“
What’s that husband of yours up to?” Jaca burst out with as
soon as he barged into her room.

She
frowned a curt warning at him, hurriedly signaling Central to block
the surveillance on her quarters. As soon as it was safe, she
blasted Jaca.

“
What are you thinking of, coming in here like that and
forgetting the most basic of precautions? For all you knew, Hamon
might still be here.”

Jacquel halted, his face blanching.

“
As
it happens, he left five minutes ago. Your luck held this time.
What’s he done that’s so dreadful it makes you behave like a
complete novice? Apart from setting the place stirring like a
madhouse and earning me a severe reprimand from
Central.”

“
He
was pleasant to me!”

Marthe
stared, then collapsed in a pile of strained hysterics onto the
nearest cube. Long moments later, despite the occasional hiccup of
glee, she managed to ask him what was so bad about that.

“
That man … pleasant … to me? A man he regards as only one
step removed from the devil incarnate. In fact, he was jovial, as
if celebrating. Just what has he discovered?”

“
You’re serious!”

“
Yes, I am,” said an emphatic Jacquel, “so stop giggling like
a silly teenager and help me figure it out. Have you noticed any
change in Radcliff this morning?”

She
smiled quietly, then seeing its effect on Jacquel quickly wiped it
away. “What exactly happened last night?” she asked
instead.

“
It
started out fairly normally. A convivial evening with a few
friends...”

“
A
bawdy, licentious evening with a group of tearaways?”

He
grinned shamelessly. “Something like that. I’d just managed to get
my new best mates into a state where they no longer noticed I
wasn’t matching their drinks. They’d relaxed nicely—”

“
The
ladies were becoming conformable?”

“
Stop interrupting. These sessions are very useful, as you
well know. As it happened, it was a drinking party, no ladies
present. If I may continue?” She nodded, smiling again. “They had
begun to discuss some very interesting subjects, including your
Major. I hadn’t realized how far his influence extends. There’s not
a sector on the planet in which he doesn’t have a say. I was nicely
milking a junior member of his own staff, and they are notoriously
difficult to get close to. This one had recently been on the
receiving end of the Major’s tongue and was only too happy to pour
out his troubles. Then who should walk in but Radcliff himself.
First my confidant scuttles away, then your precious husband
decides we’re best of buddies and starts shouting me drinks. Stars,
can he drink,” he added, groaning and putting a hand to his
head.

“
You
did keep a discreet tongue in your head?”

“
Oh,
yes. At least, as far as I know. I would swear that wasn’t his
purpose anyway. In fact, I had the distinct impression he knows
something. Something we would rather he didn’t, and he was only too
well aware of it.”

“
Oh?
What? You did find out?”

“
I
was more worried with keeping a sober head. No matter how much I
poured into him, he made sure I matched him. I had to hold off in
the end. Only problem was, the slower I drank, the faster your
husband did. My glory boy image nearly swam away with the
dregs.”

“
So
you’ve convinced Hamon you’re a fraud. Did you manage anything
constructive?”

Jacquel glared at her for that. “That’s rich. Especially since
I’ve told you I don’t know how many times that your Major’s
reputation was well earned. The troops claim he’s known in every
seedy hole in the Alliance, and from his stories I’d say they were
right.”

Marthe
glared just as heatedly back. “What sort of stories?”

“
Nothing he’d want you to know. Suffice to say, no man would
be shamed to be drunk under the table by him.”

This
bit of male arrogance was too much for Marthe. “That was your
disastrous event? A couple of silly boys trying to out-drink and
out-talk one another?”

“
Don’t be ridiculous, Mimi.” Despite the nickname, she
recognized the tone. It came from the stern, sharp-witted soldier
hidden so skillfully beneath Jaca’s light-hearted facade and
silenced her immediately. “Let me make it simple for you. One:
Major Radcliff, who normally detests both my company and my morals,
goes out of his way to spend an evening with me. Two: he was
clearly at ease, with not a hint of his usual reticence or
suspicion. Three: despite viewing me as his enemy, he rendered
himself vulnerable by drinking heavily. And four: he did not once
question said enemy on the subject of vital importance to us both.
Namely, the true state of affairs of this planet. In other words,
our most dangerous opponent has had a win, and could only truly
celebrate it with the one person he felt would lose most by
it.”

“
You
were not the only one he celebrated with,” she murmured, bitterness
twisting the corners of her mouth as understanding struck
her.

Jacquel swore softly and immediately the soldier was gone, her
oldest friend back. His hand lifted, tilting her chin up and
cradling her cheek. “I doubt that was all there was to it with
you,” he said in the same voice he’d used when he held her after
Bendin’s funeral as she poured her grief out. He didn’t ask how she
was feeling, did the baby tire her, was the strain too much. He
didn’t have to. The answers were carved in her face, the gaunt
shadows she saw daily in her mirror. Instead, he took her in his
arms, lending her his strength as he had for so many years. After a
long while, Marthe smiled gratefully.

“
Friend of my twin, I thank you.”

“
It
won’t be long now. I’ve spoken to headquarters and, as of now,
you’re off all duties. Except Radcliff, of course. That alone is
more than enough to fully occupy you.”

“
Be
assured that my husband will be my whole concern.”

“
Very praiseworthy sentiments, madame. I am delighted to hear
them.”

The
coolly mocking words came from the indolent figure of that very
husband, lolling dubiously in the doorway and speaking in Harmish
as had they. Marthe broke quickly from Jaca, one thought uppermost
in her mind. How long had he stood there and how much had he
heard?

“
Hamon, how very silent you were. Fancy listening in to our
petty concerns.”

“
Quite illuminating they were too,” he said, a malicious smile
lifting the corner of his mouth as he nodded to acknowledge des
Trurain; but still it softened as he looked back to her. “How are
you today, my dear? Not overdoing it, I trust?”

“
A
little, “she admitted, hoping he would accept it as a reason for
the scene he’d interrupted. “I’ve been helping Claud Twyford
translate some of our old texts. He’s a hard
taskmaster.”

“
You’ll be glad of a rest, then.” She looked up sharply, her
internal alarms suddenly at maximum. “It has become necessary for
you to keep to your rooms for a period.”

“
And
Jaca?”

“
Will also be confined to his own excessively luxurious
quarters. It’s no longer appropriate to have non-Terrans roaming
freely about our central control building.”

“
I
didn’t know that I’d offended the Colonel,” said Jacquel
dryly.

“
You
haven’t, but don’t bother appealing to him. Two of my men will be
outside your door at all times and, as I am sure you’re aware, I
have my own means of preventing any assistance you may be
expecting.”

“
And
our door?” said Marthe sharply. “Will it also be
guarded?”

“
Unfortunately, my dear, my officers don’t trust you quite as
much as I do,” Hamon replied, coolly apologetic. “Des Trurain, your
escort is waiting.” He gestured to two large guards, both
possessing that intangible air of professionalism she’d learnt to
recognize in Hamon’s men.

Solemnly, she turned to Jacquel and took him by the hand,
feeling a hard squeeze in answer to her ‘take care’ sign. “Till we
meet again, sister of my friend,” he whispered. Then, in arrogant
defiance and staring coldly at his Terran nemesis, he walked out
between his guards. Marthe watched in silence. The door shut and
she turned to confront her husband.

“
So
we’re back to prisoner and warder again. May I ask why?” She
regarded him warily, one hand surreptitiously feeling for her back.
She’d taken to wearing a blaster concealed in a skin pocket there,
so natural in feel that not even Hamon in their most intimate
moments could detect the pad of matter condensing
material.

“
You
may ask, but I’m not free to answer.”

“
Can
you at least tell me how long this imprisonment is to last? Will I
be allowed rations this time?” she asked caustically, nerves on
edge.

“
Certainly. You have, after all, earned them.”

“
In
what manner?” She kept her face carefully devoid of expression and
switched her patch to record.

“
You
haven’t been as discreet as you thought. I will tell you that we’re
on the verge of a major breakthrough, one for which I have you to
thank. It will halt, once and for all, whatever it is your fellow
conspirators are planning.” His eyes raked her, daring her to
flinch, to throw at him the wild thoughts swirling through
her.

“
So
we’re back to that old plot again. Your story lines lack
imagination, Hamon.”

She
spoke with such precision and control that Hamon was compelled to
applaud silently. As an agent provocateur she would be superb. Was
superb, he corrected himself. But two could play that game, and his
experience was the equal of hers. Or so he hoped, wondering, as so
often before, exactly what she had been up to over the last five
years. He let none of these thoughts show as he strolled toward
her.

Marthe
watched him come towards her. The planes of his face had sharpened,
throwing the whole into a harsh cast. It was a face she’d almost
forgotten, one she’d not seen since the early days of her
captivity. The eyes of brilliant cut emerald challenged her from
beneath hooded lids as he dropped into an adjacent cube, leaning
over to flick her chin with one iron finger.

Startled, she jumped. Briefly, she knew her fear showed in her
face. She hid it as quickly as she could, but too late. Hamon had
seen it. She saw the knowledge of it in his suddenly darkening
eyes, and the pain of self-hatred as he drew back and lapsed into
an awkward silence, his hand abruptly drawn back and clenched at
his side.

Then
his face changed. She recognized it too easily. It was the mask of
Major Radcliff, just as she wore the mask of the Haut Liege.
Inside, she wept as Major Radcliff broke the silence, in a voice
that said nothing of moment had happened between them. He was
thinking of asking his mother to return to Hathe for a longer
visit, he said, and when would be convenient to Marthe.

She
studied him, all senses alert. Just as Hamon had, she forced Marthe
to the background and made herself become only Agent an
Castre.

Why
the switch of subject? It was innocuous enough, but after the
fiasco of their last meeting, he must know there was little warmth
between his mother and her. Was he concerned for the baby? Or was
this something else. Was he in fact asking her how safe were the
Terrans on Hathe? When would the resistance act? And did he
actually believe she would give him an answer?