The Iron Admiral: Deception (23 page)

Although he’d showered and changed in a rented hotel room as soon as he could, he fancied he could still smell the acrid stink of vomit.

He rubbed nervous hands along his thighs once too often and forced himself to stop. A figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the brighter lights in the main hall. The man paused, looking around.

Sean’s heart hammered, then eased to a normal rhythm when the man stepped inside. A military uniform, Fleet police. The Confederacy battle cruiser was still out there, he knew. He couldn’t see it, it was in a higher orbit, but a steady stream of traffic went up and down; transports for the troops. The city was full of them, all in uniform, chatting up the local girls, filling the bars. He was grateful. If the group of brawling fleeters hadn’t come out of that bar at just the right moment, Orac and Brinsen would have taken him to Tepich. He shivered at the thought.

Allysha walked out of the arrival gate at Ullnish space port, looking over the gaggle of people waiting at the barrier to greet travelers. Nobody she knew, nobody who appeared out of place. Hard to believe that not much more than half a year ago, she’d sidled in here with Sean, escaping from inter-species violence. Now the place was calm and orderly. Bag in hand, she walked casually over to the train station where a train waited at the platform, ready to leave, its timetable coordinated with the shuttle. She climbed into a first class compartment with a number of other people, human and ptorix. Most of them would alight in Ullnish.

The train pulled out, silent and smooth, into a Carnessan day. Allysha smiled to herself. This was home.

The gravity felt right, the air tasted right. White clouds drifted on the horizon over the sea, far off to the left. The light had a different quality here, too. Everything was crisp and clean and well-defined, sharp almost. She stared out at the suburbs below the level of the train, here a human district, later a ptorix area, familiar and yet not. She’d never spent much time in Ullnish but the architecture was what she’d expect and the trees were the same as the ones she’d grown up with.

Most of the passengers alighted during the short stop at Ullnish Central Station; no new person entered the compartment. As the train pulled out, she sank back into the upholstered seat and watched the countryside slide by beyond the suburbs. Summer was fading and the fields were golden. Beasts gathered under trees to escape midday’s heat. Soon, outlying parts of Shernish appeared, low houses with roofs that collected energy from the sun. Next stop home.

She stepped off the train into the echoing hall of Shernish Station, her shoes clicking on the polished sandstone floor. At this hour, the place was quiet with only a few people about; mothers with small children going shopping, a few elderly couples. She scanned her ticket at the gateway and passed into the

street.

Lissa Dooren, her ID said, a graduate student about to start a course at Shernish University in human-ptorix politics. Her black hair was tied back in a silver clasp and she wore dark brown contact lenses. Dressed in loose slacks and a long, loose top, she’d fit in with the rest of the human students.

Walking purposefully through the human district she headed up the hill toward Lobok Avenue. Although everything was peaceful, small signs of conflicts past were evident. Here boarded up windows, there a burnt garden and charred front door. Allysha shivered. Things must have deteriorated after she and Sean escaped.

She left the main road and entered Seaview Way, where the houses faced the ocean, sparkling-bright down below. The afternoon breeze blew briskly off the water, causing her loose clothing to flap around her body while the scent of sea spray filled the air. Number nineteen looked empty, its windows stared, blank and lifeless, and weeds grew in the garden beds. A ‘for sale’ sign hanging on the front gate flapped spasmodically in the breeze. Sean had sold the place, she knew, but maybe whoever bought it left because of the anti-human violence. Or something. That would make things easier. She grinned. She’d gone down a long road since last she walked down this garden path, innocent and trusting. Now, breaking and entering was easy. She stepped through the front gate and strolled to the back of the house.

Beyond a paved patio, dense shrubbery all but hid the limestone crag that rose vertically behind the house. A fountain built into the rock stood silent. When it was running, water fell from a carved sea serpent’s head into a raised pool. She’d had the sculpture commissioned specially. Safe from prying eyes, she indulged in a few nostalgic thoughts. Warm summer evenings, the gentle babble of water in the pool, soft lights, a glass of wine, a zephyr from the ocean. It had been a nice place to live. Maybe she could buy it back. No. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t be living in Shernish again. She had work to do. Better move on.

Standing at the back door she said the word for ‘open’ in Ptorix. As the door slid aside she smiled.

She’d set that up as a convenience. No one knew the device existed, let alone know how to disable it.

The passage to the right led to what used to be her work room, cool and airy with a view of the courtyard. Her work table still stood against the wall, the chair neatly pushed in. The shelves were empty,

the machines gone. All the surfaces were long undisturbed, covered with a fine patina of dust. Allysha snorted. Sean probably pedaled her gear to somebody for scrap metal. Just as well she’d kept the special stuff hidden.

She pressed several spots next to her desk in a particular sequence. A piece of the wall slipped backwards and along, revealing a cupboard that contained a number of small items; tools, gadgets and a couple of data sticks. She placed the items into her bag and pressed a button inside the cupboard, returning the rock seamlessly back into place. Her bag on her shoulder, she left the same way she had come, making sure to lock up as she did so. She lingered for just a moment in the patio by the pool to whisper a last farewell.

The Castle hotel, just below the University’s great gates in Port Road, was probably a bit up-market for a student, but Lissa Dooren could afford a private room for a few weeks. She explained to the clerk at the desk that she’d be looking for something cheaper and longer term, but the hotel would provide a good base for her search. She went upstairs to a clean room with its own washroom, a good sized bed, a

desk and chair. Allysha opened the curtains, revealing the blank wall on the opposite side of the alley.

There really hadn’t been any point in paying extra for the view down Port Road.

Xanthor wouldn’t be home for hours yet and she didn’t want to risk going to the university. She sat down and checked her gadgets, making sure the brooches and pins that disguised sensors directed output to her implant. Just in case, she added a few small pins that could track her. You never knew when you might need someone to know where you’d gone. If anything, she was even better at this than she used to be, probably because she knew more about surveillance. She checked each one before she put them away, hidden amongst her tools.

Her fingers closed over a long, thin object, the metal smooth and cool in her fingers. Well, well. She hadn’t seen this for a while; the original Sean tracker. Where would he be? Some other planet, she’d expect. Probably still on Gueri Nestor. Although if he was, she would have expected Vlad’s people to have picked him up by now.

Just for the hell of it, she turned the tracker on.

And received a signal.

She almost dropped the stylus. Sean. Here in Shernish. He had to be.

She sagged down on the bed and read the coordinates from her implant. The ‘Seafarer’ bar down in Quay Street.

What in blazes was he doing here? Maybe he knew she was here? She let out the breath she was holding. What if he did? She wanted to confront him. Didn’t she? Xanthor would have to wait.

Late afternoon light danced off the University’s cones and spires. The perimeter wall glowed, almost rosy, while long shadows pointed up the hill toward her, as if showing the way to the gate. She turned down hill, squinting her eyes against bright sunlight as Qito Ras began her descent into the sea. From this high, the rays glinted off the tops of the waves, giving them a coppery glow. She hurried past Xanthor’s house with a sidelong glance and a promise to return as soon as she could. Port Road buzzed, busy with vehicles and pedestrians going in both directions, noisy with voices and the hum of traffic.

Sean was in a bar. No surprises there. Would he be alone? Maybe. He wore his privacy shield, the one she’d built for him a few years ago, so he was hiding from surveillance. She walked carefully, eyes and spy gadgets on her surroundings. Twice she’d screwed up, once after the Fleet ball and then again in the cellar at Gueri Nestor. She wouldn’t be so stupid again. A man lounged in the shadows. No, waiting for someone, eyes scanning the road. Anyone tailing her would do better. Nevertheless she recorded his appearance and that of the woman gazing in the shop window.

She turned along Quay Road, the river on her right. Often enough she’d come here to buy fish straight off the boats moored on the wide jetty along its banks. A succession of chandlers, pawn brokers, boarding houses and pubs lined the road. She walked along the quay itself, wood worn by generations of

feet, both human and ptorix. The water slapped on the pylons and the breeze that ruffled her hair carried the scent of oil and fish and rope. Opposite the ‘Seafarer’ she stopped and mentally checked her equipment. No surveillance taps, one warning. She frowned at the image. Young, female. The girl hurried

past and headed toward another pub a little further along.

What illumination there was in the Seafarer Tavern came from the bar, where rows of bottles stood in mirror-backed shelves. The place would be busy later but now, a little before sundown, not too many people sat at the tables that filled the room. An attendant, a heavy-faced man wearing black, polished glasses. A group of fishermen clustered at the bar, deep in beer and conversation, barely glanced at her as she entered. She wove between the tables, toward the back wall where a man sat head to head with a

blonde, the scarred wooden bench between them. Allysha grabbed a chair from another table and sat down facing them. They sat up, startled.

The girl glowered. “Get lost—” she began.

“Get rid of her, Sean,” Allysha snapped. “We’ve got business.”

His eyes widened as he recognized her. “Yeah.” He turned to the girl. “Push off, Lexi, okay? This is just business. I’ll catch you later.”

Lexi pouted. “Who’s she?”

Sean pushed at Lexi’s arm. “Never mind. Go on.”

With a last black glare at Allysha, Lexi went. Allysha moved to the chair the girl had vacated. Not good to have her back to the door.

“I thought you were dead,” he said. His hair was black and long, tied into a ponytail and he wore dark blue contacts. She noted the slight grey cast to his skin, the puffiness around the eyes. He looked wary and a little tired.

“Well, I’m not. No thanks to you, I’m told.”

He grimaced. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Ally. I don’t know what happened.”

“I was already drugged. The stuff you hit me with reacted with what was already in my system.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s it about, Sean? What do they want? Who are they?”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Tepich. Same guy as Tisyphor. Had you really heard his name before?”

“Keep talking, Sean. Tepich. Some GPR person, right?”

He nodded. “Right. I don’t know what they want you to do but it’s some system thing—”

“The work’s beyond your capabilities, I take it?”

“It must be. But I don’t know what. They don’t confide in me.”

So they didn’t trust him, either.

The attendant came and picked up Sean’s empty glass. “Same again?”

Sean fiddled with his coaster and flashed a glance at Allysha.

“Yes, okay. I’ll have a kib juice.”

“Beer,” Sean said.

Allysha raised an eyebrow as she flashed a credit chip. Beer. Very down market.

When the barman had gone Sean leaned toward her. “Listen, I need your help, Ally.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m in trouble, bad.” He held her eyes, pleading his case. She took stock of the tension in his shoulders, the nervous way he fingered the coaster. He leaned back, silent, as the attendant delivered the drinks.

As

soon as they were alone again he swallowed a mouthful of beer and continued, “If I don’t deliver you, Tepich is going to kill me. I only just managed to escape after…” he scratched his hair, “after Gueri Nestor. Tepich gave me three months and I’ve gone past that. I was on borrowed time. When they thought you were dead… I was dead, too.”

“You don’t know what they want me for? Honestly?

“No. I honestly don’t know.” He opened both his hands on the table top for a moment and sighed.

Allysha picked up her glass. The deep red fluid glowed in the bar’s low light. What to do? He’d held her eyes, tried to look honest. Nice try, Sean. But she believed him, certain in her own mind he wouldn’t be able to deceive her. Not anymore.

“So you’re on the run?”

His shoulders slumped. “Yes. I suppose so. I’ve still got your shield.” He looked defeated, out of options. “At least here in Shernish I know people.” He frowned and put his head to one side. “Anyway, why are you here? I thought you worked for the Fed Fleet?”

“Contract’s finished.”

“What about Saahren?Are you his girlfriend?”

“No.” She held up a hand as he opened his mouth. “Not something I care to discuss. He’s keen, I’m not.” Chaka would excuse the lie.

He nodded. “Ah. Yes, that’s what I would’ve thought.”

She sipped at her juice as Sean drank more beer. This was why she was here, wasn’t it? To end this chase? She didn’t trust him, didn’t really want anything to do with him, but what choice was there?

“Look, Sean, I don’t want your death on my conscience. If you want, I’ll go with you, do their job.”

His face lifted, hope blossoming. “Are you serious?”