Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (61 page)

He chuckled disdainfully. “Did the file say I was a magician?”

She fixed him with hard midnight eyes.
“Yes.”

Blessedly, the tube arrived and they strode inside, taking opposite sides of the compartment. He leaned a shoulder against the wall.

“Is that what this is about? Baruch wants to grill me? He’s not planning on resorting to the probes, is he? I thought he had moral objections to them? Or did he decide they weren’t quite so distasteful in my case?”

She kept quiet, concentrating on the flashing level numbers as though they had some deep significance. Could he tell how frightened she was, how her whole soul quaked in anticipation of the next few hours?

“Rachel,” he commanded softly, “look at me.”

She shifted her gaze and met piercing blue-violet eyes filled with a dread so tangible she seemed to feel it in her own chest, heavy, pressing the air from her lungs.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said quietly, “does he have the probes set up?”

“He’s not probing you, Captain. Don’t worry about that.”

Almost imperceptibly, she saw him exhale in relief.

Chris Janowitz strode briskly to Lieutenant Millhyser’s cabin. Quietly, he examined the long empty hallway. The blue wall chronometer read 09:00 hours. He nodded to himself and rang the door com, calling, “Lieutenant. I’m here to escort you to your classes.”

He waited. After several seconds he rang again. “Lieutenant Millhyser? This is Janowitz. Please acknowledge or I’ll have to force entry into your cabin.”

His throat went tight. He gripped his universal access patch and hastily fixed it to Millhyser’s door. It snicked open, revealing a barren cabin. He ran inside, quickly checking every possible hiding place. Then he charged from the room, racing down the hall toward the next corridor where Samual Luce was supposed to be grabbing Paul Urquel.

He found Luce in the hall, his throat slit. Blood pooled like a shiny crimson lake around his head.

“Oh, God. They’ve done it.”

Chris ran in the opposite direction, trying to get off level seven before Tahn’s crew cornered him.

CHAPTER 45

Jeremiel rubbed the sleeves of his purple uniform between his fingers, grimacing slightly, feeling soiled by it. In the shiny white panels on the walls, he could dimly make out his reflection—he looked like a dark-haired demon. He’d shaved his beard, leaving only his mustache, and had colored his hair a dark brown. Avel Harper stood close beside him, black face taut with worry, eyes fixed on the flashing numbers of the tube.

“How are the shuttles moving, Avel?”

“Better than I would have thought. The pilots accepted the changes in the plans with no problems. And your shuttle is waiting. I had it reprogrammed and assigned Uriah to act as copilot. I hope that—”

“Negative. Reassign him to the
Hoyer.
You’ll need him here. I’ll handle it.”

He felt more than saw Harper tense. “Jeremiel, I know you have to find out what’s happening on Tikkun, but how can you copilot a ship into the heart of Magisterial territory and guard a prisoner, too?”

“Leave that to me.”

The door snicked back and they stepped out onto the bridge. Carey Halloway whirled when they entered. She squinted at him, then, as recognition dawned, she stiffened. Standing alone in front of the forward monitor, she looked uncommonly beautiful, hair pulled back over her ears so that it fell in soft waves to her shoulders. A twinge of longing and regret tormented Jeremiel. The hours they’d spent together had been filled with warmth and talk and shared laughter. He’d miss them. …

She’d been watching dozens of shuttles descending toward Tikkun. “Where’s the rest of my bridge crew?” she demanded. “What have you done with them?”

“They’re safe.” He glanced at the screen and her face paled.

“Those … those shuttles are filled with your refugees, correct?”

“Not exactly.”

He shifted his eyes to the planet, tracing the familiar lines of the continent of Amman which turned like a huge uneven diamond below them.

“Avel,” he ordered. “Take the communications console.”

“Aye, Jeremiel.” He quickly descended to the second level and slid into the chair. Hitting a few buttons on the main com, he spoke softly to Kirtain in Engineering, arranging to have the controls released to the bridge. Turning back around, Harper announced, “We’re ready when you are.”

He nodded and stepped down to the second level, walking quietly toward Halloway. “Carey,” he said, “Rachel will be here in a few minutes. I want you to go with her.”

“Where to?”

“A safe place.”

“Why?”

“It’s necessary.”

“Am I about to vanish into the same null singularity my bridge crew has?”

“No.”

He concentrated on Tikkun, struggling to find some bastion against the tide of foreboding sweeping over him. Oh, how he’d love to be coming home to peace, to warm sunny days in fragrant meadows, to a safe place where he weaken everyone around him. Why was it he never had time for grief anymore? He needed time. Raw wounds seemed to be collecting on his soul, festering … killing him.

He gazed at the lights of Derow; they shone a pale amber beneath the coming wash of dawn. He hadn’t realized when he left Tikkun and began the Underground movement that the price he’d pay for protecting home and hearth was eternal banishment from both. Were there no sheltering walls left in the galaxy for Gamants? No quiet places where a man could go and lick his wounds? “Let it go.”

He didn’t even realize he’d spoken the words until Halloway responded, “You’d better, if you’re going to survive.”

“You care if I survive?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.” She barely whispered the last word.

Jeremiel leaned closer so no one could overhear, and said, “Drop the vulnerable act. I like you better as the hard soldier you are than—”

“What you do or don’t like is irrelevant.” She put a cool hand on his arm and gripped it brutally. Her face had gone hard, calculating. “In an hour, I can drop the act. Until then,
you need me to maintain it.”

He frowned, catching the implication that her act shielded him in some way. She held his arm so tightly it hurt. He gave her a withering look. “Let’s be honest. Tahn has us pitted against each other, hasn’t he? I’m sure he has. Not that I mind. It’s a good solid move on his part. You’re the only member of his crew I might turn my back on. But, sorry, I can’t give you the chance to carry out your mission.”

“And you think I would?”

He hesitated, giving her a sidelong look. “Perhaps we need to clarify the topic of this discussion. Are you trying to tell me you’ve decided to accept my offer and switch allegiances?”

For a short interval they just stared at each other. Then the door to the bridge opened and he heard the sound of booted feet. Neither of them looked. He knew who the entrants were, and she seemed to sense it for she turned, her back to the tube, as though to keep the expression on her face hidden, or perhaps. because she didn’t want to see her captain’s.

“Well?” he pressed very softly. “Whose side are you on? Mine or Tahn’s? I’ll take you any day. And I’ll treat you better than he does.”

“You’ll give me the galaxy on a
silver platter,
right?”

The words cut like shards of glass. He shook his head. “Sorry. That’s beyond my abilities, but I’ll give you what I can. I think a desperate life with the Underground would suit you.”

She started to walk away, but stopped when she caught Tahn’s powerful gaze. As though hating the message in his eyes, Carey’s face tensed. She turned first one way then the other, as though vacillating—then she hurried back. She’d readopted her vulnerable act. Softly, she said, “Jeremiel, tell me where you’re going?”

He pursed his lips disapprovingly.
So Tahn wants you to play it? Or
expects
you to? I don’t get it, Carey. You and I both know it’s an act. So if you know it doesn’t work on me… who are you fooling? He
shrugged warily, silently asking her what she was up to. “To Tikkun.”

“No….
Don’t!
she half-shouted.
Clearly for Tahn’s benefit.
“You’re too valuable to risk! Without you on this ship, your people will fall apart! And Lichtner may be a slimy sonofabitch, but he’s not a fool. What if he suspects who you are? If he captures you, you’ll doom your people to—”

Angry and confused, he reached out and grabbed her hand, jerking her closer to him.
“Let’s talk,
quietly, honestly.”

She whispered, “It’s too risky.”

“Tell me what you’re doing. If you’re on my side …
let me help you.”

He met and held those hard emerald eyes. Desperation lurked just beneath her controlled facade. Carey searched his face, then shook her head. “You don’t—”

“Listen to me! I’ll put your friends off safely on any planet you name. Tell me what you think is best for them and I’ll do everything in my power to protect them. Just… just fight for the right side.”

Straightforwardly, she said, “The thing that’s best for them is to win their ship back so the Magistrates will forget their former sins. But… I don’t want you hurt.”

He ignored the last. “What makes you think they’ll forget? Have you accessed the recent reports on Garold Silbersay?”

She looked up suddenly. “They’re open? I thought they’d be—”

“They’re open. Simple personnel files. Though why I don’t know, unless the information is meant as a lesson for every other high ranking human officer in the Service.”

“What lesson?”

“Slothen ordered all of Silbersay’s memories over the age of twelve erased.”

She gasped softly. “You’re a liar!”

“Am I? Check it out for yourself—and don’t forget the
Annum.”

She wet her lips anxiously. Waging a battle, he fervently hoped, with the most unbreakable vows in her life: loyalties to her ship, crew, and captain. He glanced back at Tahn who pinned him with a fierce gaze. His bitter expression said he knew from Carey’s face that Jeremiel was trying to subvert her, and, if possible, despised him even more for it.

In response to Carey’s silence, Jeremiel shoved her away, then in a hard voice instructed: “Go with Rachel, Halloway. And Rachel? Give her full access to all com files relating to personnel and neurophysiological experiments. You know the files I mean?”

Rachel nodded. “Yes. I understand.”

“No!” Carey dropped her voice to a bare murmur.
“Dannon told Tahn you’d put all the Magisterial crew down first. Tahn’s made alternate plans! If you leave this ship, by the time you get back, you’ll have
lost
it.”

He gazed steadily at her. Dread and mistrust beat a staccato in his chest. But what if she was telling the truth? “Go with Rachel.”

“Jeremiel, you don’t understand, you’ve—”

“Carey, please …”

Suddenly, she was in his arms, her forehead pressed against his cheek. Her arms went around his waist, pulling him close. He could feel tears warm against his throat. He caressed her hair one last time. “It won’t work,” he whispered. “You know that. Why are you—”

“This game is more complicated than you think. Tell your people to guard the level seven-twelve security access tunnel.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Over the top of her head, he saw Tahn clench his fists, turning away angrily. Ruse? Probably.

Carey pressed her lips to his ear. “I’m not on your side—but I do love you.”

Then she pushed away and turned, steps echoing in brisk military cadence across the bridge. He noted the quick look she shared with Tahn before entering the transport tube. After that look, Tahn seemed relieved, his confidence restored.

Jeremiel sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Harper, contact Major Lichtner. Inform him Captain Tahn is arriving in exactly thirty minutes to inspect his operations in Block 10. He’ll be accompanied by a single security officer.”

Harper struck the appropriate keys and the com aura glowed around his ebony hair, instantaneously relaying his thoughts.

Tahn defiantly propped his hands on his hips, taking in Jeremiel’s brown hair and mustache. “What’s Block 10?”

“A quaint experimental center I need to see. And you need to see it, too—
apparently.
Come on, we’ll discuss it more in the shuttle.”

Almost as an afterthought, Jeremiel pulled his pistol and gestured toward the tube. “You should have talked to me, Tahn. We could have made this a lot easier.
Move,
Captain.”

CHAPTER 46

Neil Dannon sat slumped against a weapons terminal. Grim amusement tormented him. So that’s why Jeremiel had left Tahn free to roam the
Hoyer.
He’d been counting on Tahn using Dannon’s knowledge.
Oh, yes, good, Jeremiel. Good!
Green and red lights flared above him, indicating the status of various units. Millhyser stood a short distance away, encircled by ten Magisterial officers. The hushed violence in their voices only increased his amusement.