| DANGEROUS GAMES by Marta Randall |
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| He returned to find Tatha
stretched on his bed, scanning through his Certificate. He slammed the
door, out of temper with bad-mannered waiters, badly cooked food, and
exorbitant prices, and glared at her. She gave him a crooked smile,
supremely unembarrassed, tossed his Certificate on the table, and
rolled off the bed. She wore a brown jumpsuit and her silver face
gleamed from the darkness of its hood. “I came to take you adventuring, my friend. And you had the discourtesy not to be here.” “I locked the door,” Jes said, putting the Certificate back in his sack. “And I don’t remember leaving this out either.” “You had, and you hadn’t. Locked doors are a specialty of mine, and if you thought you were hiding your record, you did a poor job of it. It’s obvious that I’ve more to teach you than the ins and outs of Gensco Station.” She leaned against the wall. “I’ve ordered your leads plate.” Jes grunted. Her eyes gleamed with laughter and she crossed her arms, as though ready to spend all night, if need be, outlasting his anger. He found himself smiling back. “Good. When will it arrive?” “Having engineered your good humor, I’m loath to lose it again. I won’t tell you. It’s evening, by the dictates of the Lords of Gensco Station. Let’s use it - and not for business.” She laughed at his expression. “Drinking, tauCaptain. Deep and philosophical discussion. I’ve an urge to introduce you to the finer elements of Repairs Bay Colony. Will you come?” He hesitated, feeling tired and still a little angry, but curiosity got the better of him. Besides, the more he learned about Gensco, and about Tatha, the safer he would feel. “All right,” he said. “Bring on your wonders, and I’ll be properly impressed.” She slipped around him, lifted his sack, and extracted his Certificate. “This first,” she said. “When in Rome, Menet, do as do the Romans, but hide your gold. Come along.” She walked into the clensor. “If everyone here is as nosy as you are . . .” “Correction. I’m healthily inquisitive. With some others the adjective does not apply.” She glanced around the room, swung herself atop the box of the clensor, and leaned toward the light panel. She ran one extended claw under the clips, slid the panel away, and tucked Jes’ Certificate between the ceiling and the drop panels before snapping the panel back into place and dropping to his side. “When you get back, change the angle of the panel clips and remember the change. I doubt if our hosts, or others, are subtle enough to find the Certificate or if, finding it, they remember to reset the clip. Come along.” As they reached the door she looked at it and shook her head. “Nothing you can do about this, though. Junk.” Jes followed her out, locking the door behind him. “Why?” he said. “I mean, why the lessons in being sneaky, and why the invitation tonight?” “Simple. You’re the only one on this station who even approaches being as alien as I am. And if I don’t mind the onus of your suspect company, why should you mind mine?” “I don’t,” he said, remembering the hostilities of the afternoon. “I can handle it . . . you must be used to it.” “One never gets used to it,” she said. “We hop on here.” The slidebelt moved across the main public squares of Repairs Bay Colony, through areas of after-work merry-making and along the lit and flashing fronts of entertainment halls. Tatha leaned against the slidebelt railing, her back to the crowds and her face to Jes. In her dark suit with the hood pulled over her bright hair she was, from behind, effectively disguised. Jes tried to watch her without obviously watching her and thought he was successful until she suddenly crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. Jes bit his lip and looked away, and Tatha swung off the slidebelt. It took him a moment to realize she was gone. He hopped off and walked back to her. She was strolling down a side alley, her hands in her pockets, humming. She glanced at him, eyes amused, when he matched her pace. “Do you fancy beer?” she said, pausing by an unmarked door. Jes nodded. “Good. Welcome to Tammas’ Hopyard, captain.” “Another parlor,” Jes said as he stepped inside. She laughed behind him. The crowded room was small and dark. People glanced up and went back to their drinks and conversations. The barkeep nodded and turned to fill two steins with beer. Tatha guided Jes to a table in the back of the room. “Tammas’ father came from The Lab, and it makes him bearable, if not adorable.” “The Grabmaster mentioned The Lab - the Labyrinth? I don’t know what it is.” Jes sat. “An asteroid belt in one of the neighboring systems, same Sector. The Labbers live in hollowed asteroids called ‘holes’ and bump about being immune to domestication. Gensco’s been trying to wipe them out for decades.” “Why?” “Because they don’t fit.” Tammas put two steins on the table and rocked back on his heels. He was a tiny, sour-looking man. “Gensco wants everything to fit nice and simple and easy. Labbers have never worked that way, and aren’t about to. Did you tell him,” he said to Tatha, “about my Da?” “I will, Tammas. We’ll want another two soon.” Tammas nodded, unperturbed, and went back to his bar. Jes sipped his beer. It was cold and tasted slightly flat. He made a face and Tatha nodded. “But it’s the best you’ll find, this side of Gem Sphere, or The Lab.” “What’s Gem Sphere? And what about Tammas’ father?” Tatha put her stein down. “Gem Sphere is manager’s country, my innocent. Gem Sphere is the heart and center of civilized living on Gensco Station. Parklands, fountains, mansions, finesse and richesse. I’ll take you there, if you like. It will impress your impoverished provincial soul. And Tammas’ father was a Labber brewmaster who responded to a Gensco attack by flying his chunk of rock into a Master Craft and crippling it. Unfortunately, Tammas survived. He was raised in the bosom of Gensco’s love, and when they found that he didn’t know anything of any use to them, and couldn’t be made to like them, they sent him here. Very careful of its resources, Gensco is. Tammas makes a good barkeep, and as long as he’s here the managers know where to find pilots come in from The Lab on business. They don’t mind that our bitter friend spreads sedition and sows the seeds of rebellion. The seeds fall on hard ground.” She tapped her foot against the metal floor. “Tammas, of course, hates the entire business.” “Then why doesn’t he leave? Why don’t you leave, for that matter?” Tatha, her mouth full of beer, looked at him over the rim of the stein. The hum of conversation in the room rose and fell, and Jes caught a brief scent of hot stew and what might be fresh bread. “Tammas can’t leave,” Tatha said after she had swallowed, “because he’s nowhere to go. The Labbers that come to Gensco are here on sufferance. If they smuggled him off they’d be open to charges of kidnapping or suborning a Gensco employee. If he leaves by himself, Gensco would suspect the same thing. An incident like that could start active warfare again, and the Lab’s still recovering from the last bout. Tammas, bless his twisted heart, is enough of a patriot to refuse to jeopardize The Lab for the sake of his freedom.” She turned in her seat and waved an arm at Tammas, who nodded and reached for two more steins. “What about you?” Jes said. “It’s not patriotism that’s keeping you here.” “Not likely,” Tatha said. “Gensco’s got a charming policy about outsystem workers. They take something you need and don’t give it back. It’s surprisingly effective.” “It’s coercion,” Jes said. Tatha shrugged. “I’ve told him, Tammas, about your Da.” Tammas deposited full steins, collected empty ones, nodded, and retreated. Jes watched Tatha, and Tatha, leaning back in her chair, watched the room. She fascinated him: the sleek silvery body, the expressive eyes, the quick, complicated mind. He wondered how she saw the room’s collection of Labbers, wondered what, beneath the wit and chatter, she thought of the universe around her, the Station, herself. He’d dealt with spacers before and was confident that he could extract information. A little delicate probing, he thought, was in order. She obliged. No, she hadn’t known about Gensco before she entered the Station. Yes, Gensco had made it hard for her to leave. No, she did not learn jockeying on Santa Theresa. When he asked her why she’d left her homeworld, she put the stein down and looked at him pleasantly. “Your Certificate says that you were born on Aerie, tauCaptain. You’d go back at least thrice a year, but for the past two years you haven’t been back at all. Why is that?” Jes glared at her. “That’s none of your damned business.” “Exactly,” she said, standing. “Come exploring, Menet? I promised you the wonders of Gem Sphere, and my promises, you’ll learn, are always kept.” Jes rose, embarrassed. He followed her from the bar but she strode down the alley ahead of him, giving him no chance to apologize. Jes decided that she was too prickly for her own good and hurried to catch up with her. But her face, lit as she passed a lamp, seemed unconcerned. She led him around three corners in quick succession and into a maze of empty supply lines. The lights were off; Tatha, in her dark hooded suit, was a denser darkness and a melody in front of him. When she touched his chest he halted, and she pointed out the far glow of a tubegate. Not one of the main gates, she explained, but an auxiliary one maintained for the passage of freight. “Gateway to heaven,” she said. “Feeling adventurous? Good. Mind, we’re not welcome in Gem Sphere, we lack the odor of jewels and high living. Keep your shining head down and your ringing voice low, my dove, and do as you’re told. Ready? Then boldly forward. It gets darker before the gate, so mind your step - the pavement’s uneven.” He walked forward, feeling her warm hand resting on his shoulder. It did indeed get darker before the gate, and within two meters he stumbled over a ragged edge in the pavement and fell, taking her with him. She twisted nimbly to her feet, found his hand, and helped him up. Then she raised her hand, ran her fingers along a ledge high on the wall, and rubbed her fingers against his palm. They felt gritty. “The Lords and Masters don’t believe in changing the filters regularly, at least, not in the warrens. Or in maintaining the pavements.” She put her hand back on his shoulder and resumed humming. The melody sounded contemptuous. Just beyond the lights from the gates she halted again. “Do me a favor? Pop through and see if there’s anyone around. Some louts I want to avoid.” Jes nodded and walked to the gate, wondering if Tatha was as hard as she let on. Feeling protective, he surveyed the empty gate area thoroughly before gesturing to her. She ran past him, grabbing his hand and propelling him down a cushioned drop-tube. They scampered through the brightly lit space at the foot of the drop and into a dark side corridor. Once away from the light, she leaned against the wall and laughed without sound. Her hood had fallen back. She twisted thick handsful of silver hair into place and pulled the hood low over her forehead. “And again the slip! Come, master mariner of space, and I’ll show you the glittering byways of Gem Sphere.” GEMS SPHERE DID INDEED GLITTER. LAYERED between the outer service areas of the Station and the inner power cores, it filled the entire center stratum of the Station. The tall vault of ceiling reflected pinpoints of starlike lights, the fresh air smelled of flowers, and somewhere in the darkness a fountain burbled. Tatha led him between high white buildings whose windows glowed with light. They moved along the edge of a park, peering from the bushes at elegant people strolling beneath trees in the amber light of floating lamps. Someone played a twelve-tone tairene; Tatha closed her eyes as she listened to the subtle chiming music. A child laughed. Jes gaped and stared. At a silk-draped stand, crystal goblets of wine stood ready for sale. Jes told himself that the denizens of Gem Sphere couldn’t possibly live this way all the time, that during the daylight hours they had jobs to do, work to be done, but it was hard to believe it. Tatha scanned the passing faces and touched Jes to stillness. Three people sat on a bench by a fountain; an older man with polished gray hair, a tiny, dun-colored woman in rich brocades, and the red-haired woman who had talked with him when he arrived at Gensco in his crippled sloop, and whom Tatha later identified as Maigret. The three leaned together, talking. Tatha crept forward. After a time Maigret rose, shook out the folds of her robes, and walked away. Tatha slid back through the bushes to Jes and led the way out of the park. She moved faster now, leading him through a maze of alleys and dark streets. They ran up a flight of shallow stairs to a wide stone balcony. Tatha put her hand on the rail and vaulted into the blackness below. Overcome with a joyous recklessness, Jes followed her. The ground was closer than he’d thought and he gasped as he landed. Tatha put her hand on his arm. “We’re being followed. Can you keep up with me?” Jes heard the challenge in her tone and would have replied, but she put her finger over his lips and raced away. He leaped to his feet to follow. Someone landed under the balcony with a thud and a muttered curse. Jes didn’t bother to look back. Keeping up with Tatha wasn’t easy. He envied the swift precision of her body as he followed her around a pool and over a hedge. They fled down a street of shops. In the light of one of the few glowlamps, Jes saw a pile of fruit, left by an over-trusting grocer in the street before the shop. Tatha grabbed two globes from the bottom of the pyramid. The rest of the fruit trembled and the pyramid collapsed onto the street. The footsteps behind them became awkward thuds as their pursuer tried to dodge the rolling fruit. Tatha glanced over her shoulder and tossed a fruit to Jes. Tart juice flooded his mouth. At the next corner he paused, aimed, and flung the fruit back down the street. Tatha grinned and ducked into a stand of trees. Jes followed her into darkness. She put her hand in his and guided him around the trees. “Can you fit through here?” she whispered. The open pipe mouth was a black patch against the paler darkness of the trees. He dropped on his belly, scooted inside, and kept going until he felt Tatha’s touch on his ankle. “Next right,” she said, her voice choked with laughter. He followed her signals until the tube opened before him and he looked down at the bright area before the supplies gate. He made sure the area was deserted, pulled himself half out of the tube, twisted, dropped, and landed on his feet. In a second Tatha was beside him and a moment later they were up the droptube again and sprinting down the dark supply line. Tatha slowed to run her fingers over the ledge, then raced him to the alley in front of Tammas’ Hopyard. Light spilled from Tammas’ open door. Jes, catching his breath, looked at Tatha and doubled with laughter. Her brown jumpsuit was filthy and her hair had come loose and lay tangled on her shoulders. A leaf had caught in it. He pulled the leaf from her hair and presented it to her. She took it, gravely, and in turn handed him his greenpass. Jes looked at the pass and stopped laughing. He stuck his other hand in his pocket and felt around. “Where did you get this?” he said. “From your pocket, when you fell before we reached the gate. They trigger alarms and I decided that you wouldn’t miss it.” Jes looked at her, confused. She looked back at him with patient expectation. He put the greenpass in his pocket, beside the credit plate. “Who was following us?” he said finally. “Maigret?” “Hardly. Our red-haired friend owes us a favor - whoever followed you was, originally, following her.” “Followed me? We were both trespassing.” “We weren’t followed by Gensco, tauCaptain. If we had been, they’d have raised alarms and closed down the gates.” “Then who . . . ?” Tatha shrugged and walked past Tamma’s bar. “I was rather hoping you knew.” The slidebelt was off for the night, the lights dimmed, the crowds dispersed. Tatha didn’t speak as they crossed the square and moved down the corridor toward Jes’ cabin, but when they reached his door she put her hand over his mouth, forestalling his questions. “As me tomorrow,” she said. “But before you go to bed, request the file I’ve noted on the back of your greenpass. And sleep well, my fly.” She disappeared around a bend in the corridor. Jes stood in the clensor, wishing the water would clear away his weariness as easily as it cleared away the dirt. His mind kept asking questions that he couldn’t answer. Clean, dressed, and desperate for sleep, he sat before the commiter and punched in the file number. The screen presented him with a reproduction of a months-old fax sheet. Gensco, the fax reported, had received a takeover bid of surprising size and, after due consideration, had turned it down. A second offer was made and also rejected. No further offers were pending. The managers assured all residents and employees that they would never sell Gensco to any agency, no matter how big, and urged confidence in slightly hysterical tones. The bidding party was Parallax. By first light, Jes felt the effects of the wake-up he’d taken begin to wear off. He dialed another dose and resumed pacing the cabin. There were no further public reports on the bids, although Jes tried to key information under every heading he could imagine. He found nothing further on Santa Theresa either, but that proved nothing. A combine as large as Parallax could pick its agents from any part of the Federation; but if Tatha was a Parallax agent, why would she take him on that midnight trespass? Gensco was not interested in Aerie-Kennerin, although Parallax would be. Parallax wanted Aerie-Kennerin, Jes knew that; in Parallax’s hands Jes would serve as a hostage against his family’s quiet capitulation. But he couldn’t see how his presence would aid or hinder the Parallax-Gensco bid at all. Yet if Tatha was not a Parallax agent, why had she assumed that a stray tauCaptain named Jes Kennerin would have any interest in the bid? If she was a Gensco agent, then why trespass? And if their pursuer had been a Parallax agent, why was the agent following a stray Theresan and a stranded tauCaptain? “Whoever followed you . . . “ Tatha had said. But she’d broken into his room, read his Certificate, and neatly picked his pocket, all in the course of one evening. Faced with an unsettling conundrum, Jes reacted in the time-honored manner of all blunt, square-seeing Kennerins. He marched down to the repairs bay to confront Tatha. His sloop hung suspended high over the floor of the bay. Jes walked under it, shouting Tatha’s name, until her face appeared over the side of the ship. “Come on up,” she said, and disappeared. There seemed no way up save the dangling, knotted rope that hung from a high beam. He flexed his hands, remembering the hours he’d put in on his ship’s swing-gym, and started up the rope. A ship’s gym functions in free-fall; by the time he reached the sloop his hands cramped and ached and the muscles in his shoulders throbbed. He sat near Tatha and rubbed his shoulders. She sat amid burned leads. Her laserpencil glowed as she soldered new leads into place. “You haven’t slept,” she said. “That stunts the growth, you know.” “I’m used to sleeping in hammocks. I haven’t been able to sleep in a regular bed since I went to space.” “Flexibility is a virtue.” She reached for the wires. Jes picked one out and handed it to her. “Why did you want me to look at that file?” Tatha, the wire between her teeth, didn’t answer. She made the connection, released the wire, and pressed it into its groove. “I thought you might be interested.” “Why?” “Why not?” “Tatha,” he said, annoyed, and she smiled. “It’s the reason Gensco’s edgy right now. Not that they’re friendly at the best of times, but you came in the middle of a big scare. Another wire, please.” Jes complied. He lay on his belly and propped his chin in his hand. “I don’t see why they’re so worried,” he said. “This can’t be the first time someone’s tried to buy them out.” “For these folk, it is. And Parallax is not your all-around good guy.” “Why not?” “Oh, come now, you’re not that innocent. You’ve heard of Parallax - everyone has.” Jes raised his eyebrows. “They’re just a large combine. I don’t know why they want to buy Gensco, but if they’ve been refused they’ll go away.” Tatha glanced at him. “Parallax is a stubborn bunch, captain. They don’t make offers lightly and they don’t accept negatives. Gensco has no intention of being bought, and knows Parallax’s reputation, and is running scared.” “So?” “Parallax is looking for a lever, something they can use as a hostage to force Gensco’s capitulation.” She put down her laserpencil and opened her collar. “A hostage,” she repeated. She looked at Jes and the corners of her mouth twitched. “Think they’ll find it?” “How should I know?” “Exercise your imagination, tauCaptain. If you were a lone agent for a big company, under orders to find a lever for a takeover bid, a lever that won’t damage the company such that it’s rendered worthless, where would you look? What sort of thing would you aim for? How would you go about finding it? And how would you go about obtaining it?” “And why would a stray Theresan want to know?” “Meow,” Tatha said. Jes frowned. It had to be something that Gensco could not easily replace but that Parallax did not particularly need; if Gensco decided to sacrifice the hostage, Parallax would have to be able to destroy it without destroying the company. That immediately cut out most of the technical aspects of the stations, the power cores, life-support systems, communications net. Tatha pointed out that an individual manager would also not serve the purpose; Gensco’s owners lived in well-protected seclusion on a distant planet, and the managers themselves, despite their individual talents, were interchangeable and hence replaceable. Any attempt to capture the Station by siege or attack would also be impracticable: Parallax would either have to bring warships in through Federation tau, which was illegal and bound to incur Federation discipline, or would have to assemble the ships in Priory Sector. But the Sector was well patrolled, Tatha said, and any such shipbuilding operation would be soon discovered and destroyed. Tatha began humming, the same slippery tune Jes had heard when he met her. Jes shrugged. “I don’t know what an agent would look for,” he said finally. “If it were my job, I suppose I’d creep about poking into things and take what came. Watch out for anything secretive. Keep alert.” Tatha nodded. “Especially to unexpected occurrences. Like people sneaking about in the bushes in Gem Sphere.” “If I were an agent for Gensco, I’d be interested in the same thing.” “Indeed you would.” Jes took a deep breath. “All right. Why were we creeping about in the bushes last night?” “You wanted to see Gem Sphere, didn’t you?” “That’s not responsive. You were looking for something, weren’t you? When you eavesdropped on Maigret - what were you looking for?” “Why, I’m incurably curious. I told you that before.” “Will you answer my questions?” Jes demanded. He stood up. Tatha didn’t break the rhythm of her work. “The ones you’ve asked, or the ones you haven’t? I gave you the Parallax file code because, Menet, that’s who Maigret thinks you are. She was telling the others last night. Dear me, you do look astounded. Surely it’s not that surprising - “ “It’s absurd! Me? Sweet Mother - I’ll tell her. That’s what’s holding everything up, isn’t it?” Jes laughed. “All I have to do is tell Maigret that I’m not, and we’ll have all the parts we need immediately.” “And how, friend, are you going to convince her that you’re not a Parallax agent?” Jes stared at her. What, indeed, would he say to Maigret? That Parallax had tried to take over his home-world once? That the indications were that they were gearing up to do it again? How could he prove that to Maigret’s satisfaction? Worse, what if Parallax made its attempt against the Station while Jes was still aboard? And Maigret survived? Would she curry favor with her new masters by bringing them tauCaptain Jes Kennerin, head on platter? Maigret, he remembered, seemed very easy to spy upon. And Tatha said, echoing his thoughts, “There is a Parallax agent on Gensco, Jes. The agent’s been here for at least a month. And is as capable of eavesdropping as I am. Another thing - we’ve no guarantee that the agent is an outsider. It could be a member of management, or the staff. It could even be Maigret.” After a moment, Jes said, “It could even be you.” “It could,” Tatha agreed. “But it isn’t.” “Am I to believe that?” “I’ve never lied to you,” she said. “And, you’ll notice, I’ve no interest in learning just how you would go about convincing Gensco that you’re not the agent, because I think your argument would also interest Parallax. I don’t want you to tell me.” “Because you know already?” Tatha shook her head. “I don’t believe you,” he said, his temper rising. He made no effort to control it. “All I know of this has come from you, and you may be the best liar in the Federation. I don’t even know who the hell you are. Who are you?” “I’ve already told you,” she said. “You just have to arrange to believe it.” Jes’ temper fled. “All right. No more games. I don’t like webs and I don’t like plots and I don’t particularly like you either. You and Gensco and Parallax and this entire damned Sector can go to hell. All I want is to have my ship fixed. Now. And no more games!” “Linear thinking is not only boring, it’s unproductive,” Tatha remarked. Jes cursed. “You can call me when the job’s done,” he said, grabbing the rope. Tatha dropped the leads wires, put her hands in her lap, and looked at Jes. He cursed and swarmed down the rope. As he marched out of the bay, he heard Tatha’s voice above him, raised cheerfully in song. |
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