The Gap into Madness: Chaos and Order (31 page)

Warden
tightened his arms, clamping himself in his stolid pose. Get to the point! he
wanted to yell. What
actions?

But
Hashi’s love of his own explanations was inexorable. He plodded on.

“Nick
Succorso, Morn Hyland, and Sorus Chatelaine are linked to each other by bonds
of bloodshed. It may be, however, that those bonds are of opposing kinds. The
natural assumption is that Morn Hyland loathes
Gutbuster’s
memory. In
contrast, Nick Succorso’s survival aboard
Captain’s Fancy
may have been
a gift from Sorus Chatelaine.”

Warden
snarled in the pit of his stomach. “What’s the relevance of all this? I’m
running out of time. I need facts, not moonshine.”

I need
the truth.

Hashi
flapped his hands as if he could wave away urgency. “Grant that it may be so.”
His aura suggested more than pride; it hinted at righteousness; vindication. “Consider
what follows.

“Morn
Hyland and Nick Succorso are natural enemies, if for no other reason than
because he must have used her zone implant against her. Being who he is, he
could hardly do otherwise. And he and Sorus Chatelaine may be allies. Why would
a man such as Nick Succorso risk visiting Enablement Station simply so that a
natural enemy could have a son? And why would rumours of an antimutagen
surround a possible ally on Thanatos Minor?

“Here,
briefly, is my scenario.”

Warden
took a deep breath against the weight of his arms.

“Nick
Succorso and Sorus Chatelaine propose to make themselves unimaginably wealthy.”
Hashi spoke with his head tilted back, as if he were addressing the ceiling.
Despite the abstraction of his delivery, he sounded almost smug. “At the same
time they mean to punish us for our failures to give him support when he
demanded it. Morn Hyland was taken to Enablement with the connivance of the
Amnion so that she could be transformed into some manner of genetic kaze aimed
at us.”

By an
act of will, Warden showed no reaction. Yet his head seemed to reel as if it
were full of ghouls. Autonomic terror squeezed sweat like blood from the bones
of his forehead. A genetic kaze? Horrific idea: anyone but Hashi would have
been appalled by it; dismayed to the quick. And it was
possible.
Warden
had prepared or planned nothing which might have prevented it. And Angus would
accept her in that condition, as long as he failed to detect any sign of
genetic tampering.

Christ,
it could work! Treason was too small a word for it. If Hashi’s view of the
connection between Nick and this Sorus Chatelaine was accurate, Warden could
think of no reason to dismiss the DA director’s interpretation.

Oh,
Morn! What have I done to you?

Hashi
hadn’t stopped, however. Still regarding the ceiling, he explained, “All
subsequent conflict between Nick Succorso and the Amnion was mere chicanery,
designed to conceal the truth. Morn was sent to the Bill by ejection pod as a
pretence. Then she was reacquired, presumably with Amnion aid.

“For
her part, Sorus Chatelaine began spreading the gossip that a mutagen immunity
drug exists — and exists in her possession. The crewmember delivered to and
then retrieved from the Amnion by Captain Succorso was a ploy to demonstrate
the efficacy of the drug. That done, Captain Succorso positioned himself —
perhaps by means of his past association with Milos Taverner — so that he and
Morn Hyland would be preserved with
Trumpet
.

“What
results? Apparently harmless, Morn is brought to us. UMCPHQ falls to genetic
assault, terrorising all of humankind. And where does the species turn for
hope? Why, to Nick Succorso and Sorus Chatelaine, who possess a proven
antimutagen.”

Finally
Hashi lowered his gaze to Warden’s. “Does this not sound like our Captain
Succorso? He becomes as rich as the stars. At the same time” — Hashi smiled
bleakly — “we are discomfited. Hence his flare. He dares to taunt us because he
believes that we cannot penetrate his deception — and he cannot resist
displaying his superiority.”

Warden
swallowed harshly. “That’s it?” He couldn’t force himself to stop sweating; but
he kept his voice under rigid control. “That’s your scenario?”

Hashi
nodded. Pride stained his aura like a malignancy.

“And
you believe it?” Warden demanded.

“‘Believe
it’?” Hashi waved away the question airily. “I neither believe it nor
disbelieve it. It is a hypothesis, nothing more. I consider it plausible.
Therefore it may be accurate. Belief or doubt are moot.”

“But it
doesn’t scare you,” Warden pursued.

“‘Scare’
me? No, I am not scared. As a conception, I find it appalling. In practice I
see nothing to fear.”

Warden
released his arms in order to clench his fists on the desktop. He wanted Hashi
to see his anger — and his restraint.

“It
doesn’t scare you,” he rasped, “because you’ve already done something about it.
You’ve already ‘acted with almost prescient wisdom,’ as you call it.” Done
something
great and terrible.
“Don’t stop now. That’s the part I’ve been
waiting to hear.”

Hashi’s
mouth twisted primly. He adjusted his glasses, crossed one thin leg over the
other.

“Director,
I did not speak of this earlier because I did not trust the time. You will tell
me whether I have judged aptly.

“When
Punisher
encountered
Free Lunch
and Captain Scroyle, he had relayed his transmission
to me and was awaiting orders. In response I offered him a new contract.”

Warden
was suddenly sure that he was about to hear the truth. “What contract? What was
it for?”

Hashi
faced his director like a blue sky. “In my judgement action was urgently
required. Therefore Captain Scroyle has been handsomely remunerated to destroy
Trumpet
and everyone aboard.”

Warden
nearly cried out; nearly broke into a yell — or a wail.

His
fists hit the desktop. Destroy
Trumpet
? Kill Angus and Morn just when
Warden himself had almost literally moved heaven and Earth to keep them alive?

Hashi,
you bastard! You unconscionable
bastard.

But his
surprise and shock pulled him in so many different directions at once that they
held him mute; hurt him in so many different ways that he couldn’t utter any of
them.

Destroy
— ?

This of
course
of course
was the real reason Hashi had concealed his dealings
with
Free Lunch
. He hadn’t wanted to admit what he’d done. Left alone,
he might have taken his involvement in the ruin of what he saw as Nick’s
treason to his grave.

Warden
didn’t know how he kept from howling. His fists pounded the desktop so that he
wouldn’t hit himself.

Hashi’s
gambit dismayed him to the bone. But at the same time, oh, shit,
at the same
time
it offered him a way to subvert Holt Fasner’s orders; a seductive
answer to the treachery Holt demanded. Let
Trumpet
be killed by
Free
Lunch
. Morn and Angus would be granted a clean death, if no mercy; Nick
would die as well; and Davies would be kept away from the Dragon. Warden’s own
hopes and needs would die with them; but he could claim with at least
superficial honesty that his hands were clean.

Didn’t
that make sense? If Morn was a genetic kaze?

No,
he swore with all his heart. No. I
will
not.

He was
ashamed to the pit of his stomach, the core of his heart; his blood burned with
shame in his veins. He was beside himself with fury at the DA director — yet
Hashi wasn’t to blame. This would never have happened if Warden’s own plotting
and subterfuge, his complicity with the Dragon and his covert efforts to be
free of it, hadn’t created an environment which permitted, encouraged, even
necessitated manipulation and secrets for the people around him.

He
was the director of the United Mining Companies Police; no one
else.
He
was responsible.

And he
was Warden Dios. Shame made him strong.

Grimly
he unclosed his fists. He couldn’t swallow his anguish and rage, but he allowed
himself no recrimination.

“There’s
only one problem,” he retorted through his teeth. “It’s all bullshit. Your scenario
may be plausible, but it’s not true. That’s not why Morn is alive.”

Hashi
opened his mouth; closed it again. Streaks of apprehension ached across his
aura. As if he didn’t notice what he was doing, he puts down his hands to
support himself on the sides of his chair.

“She’s
alive,” Warden grated, “because I told Angus to rescue her. I changed his
programming — I swapped out his datacore before he and Milos left. You’re
trying to kill her” — the words broke from him like a cry —
“and I need her
alive.”

Hashi’s
heart staggered; missed several beats. The blood drained from his face as if he
were being sucked dry. Nevertheless he didn’t flinch; didn’t protest; didn’t
refuse to hear or believe. The blow was hard, but he strove to bear it.

“You
changed his programming.” He spoke like a sigh. “You need her alive.” His hands
shook slightly as he raised them to his face and removed his glasses; folded
the stems carefully; tucked the glasses into the breast pocket of his lab coat.
Without them his face seemed oddly vulnerable, as if he wore them to conceal a
weakness. “You are a challenge to me, Warden. Your game is deeper than I
imagined.

“Only
now does it occur to me that you might profit from Morn Hyland’s life.”

Warden
hugged his pain and remained silent, giving Hashi time to think.

“In one
sense,” Hashi went on, “she threatens us all. But in another —” His voice
cracked; his emanations cried out with chagrin. More than anyone Warden had
ever known, Hashi relied on his own mind. Now he was being told that his intelligence
and skills had failed him. “Ah, your game is indeed deep. Now that the
opportunity has passed, I ask myself how you might better demonstrate your
honour and usefulness to our esteemed Council in these troubled times than by
rescuing the very woman who has suffered most for your decisions.

“And
the benefit is only increased by the threat she represents.” He seemed to be
sinking in his chair; shrinking in his own estimation. “If she is a kaze, we
are forewarned. We will be able to guard against her. But your honour and
effectiveness — your survival — would inevitably be enhanced by the rescue of a
woman who has such tales to tell at the Dragon’s expense.”

He may
have been able to lie to the whole world, but apparently he couldn’t lie to
himself.

“Please
accept my regrets, Director. I have done you a singular disservice.”

True.
But the contract had already been sent. It was beyond recall. Unless —

Wearily
Warden asked, “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can contact Captain Scroyle?”

“Alas,
no.” Hashi frowned in regret. “I cannot know where he has gone, except in
pursuit of
Trumpet
. And he will not expect contact from me. Therefore he
will not look for it.”

No, of
course not. That would have been too easy.

“In
that case” — bracing his palms on the desktop, Warden pushed to his feet — “you
can go back to work. I’m out of time. Like everybody else around here, I’ve got
orders to carry out.”

You don’t
have to resign, Hashi. I still need you.

Hashi
rose from his chair. Fumbling in his pockets, he found his glasses and put them
back on his nose. He made no pretence of looking through them, however.

“Forgive
me if I appear slow,” he wheezed. “I simply wish matters to be clear so that I
will make no more mistakes. Do you have orders for me?”

“Yes.”
Warden didn’t hesitate. “You have no more responsibility for
Trumpet
or
Joshua. Leave them to me. If any more information about Billingate, the Amnion,
Trumpet
, Joshua,
Free Lunch
, or even Min happens to be routed
your way, you will make sure I see it immediately.”

No more
games, Hashi.

The DA
director nodded. “I understand.”

“Instead,”
Warden continued, “I’m leaving the investigation of Godsen’s murder to you.”

Hashi
cocked an eyebrow, but Warden couldn’t tell whether he was surprised or
relieved.

“Min
isn’t here, and her Chief of Security is out of his depth. If you can’t uncover
the truth” — Warden used the word deliberately — “about those kazes, no one
can.

“But
there’s one fact you may not know. Shortly before that kaze reached him, Godsen
got a call from Holt Fasner. Holt wanted Godsen to go see him immediately.
Godsen refused because I’d restricted him to UMCPHQ.”

After
only a slight pause, Warden finished, “Before he died, Godsen called me to tell
me what he’d done.”

Now
Hashi’s surprise was unmistakable. He pursed his lips, hissed softly between
his teeth. “So our Godsen discovered loyalty before he died. I would not have
believed it.”