Chaos And Order_ The Gap Into Madness Part 39

"I don't mean I work for them." Sorus didn't mind letting her anger and revulsion show. She wanted to scare the boy-scare him right to the edge of paralysis. "I serve serve them, Ciro. I'm going to tell you why. them, Ciro. I'm going to tell you why.

"Years ago," in a different life, when Sorus had turned illegal because that was the path she chose, "this ship had another name. But she wasn't gap-capable then, and eventually the cops caught up with us. They couldn't take us-she's too powerful-but they did us real damage. Enough to finish us. It was just a matter of time, we were crippled. Limping to our grave." She remembered it all too well. "The next time the cops found us, they were going to tear us apart.

"But the Amnion found us first. We were doing business with them anyway, and we missed a contact. They came looking for us."

Ciro stared back at her dumbly; close to terror.

"They weren't nice about it," she rasped. "When they saw how bad we were hurt, they didn't offer to help us. Not them. Instead they handed me an ultimatum. Meet their terms or die. They were going to let us sputter away until we starved or crumpled, unless I gave them what they wanted."

Can you guess what's coming, boy? Do you know how much trouble you're in?

"What they wanted was to use me in an experiment. They'd developed a new-I guess you could call it a drug-and they wanted to know if it worked on humans. If If it worked, they told me, I would still be human when it was done. I could have my ship back, they would save us, give us a gap drive, anything we needed." it worked, they told me, I would still be human when it was done. I could have my ship back, they would save us, give us a gap drive, anything we needed."

Sorus paused to let some of the pain of the memory pa.s.s, then said, "If the experiment didn't didn't work, I would turn into one of them." work, I would turn into one of them."

She shrugged to loosen the tension in her shoulders.

"I figured I knew what would happen if I said no. They wouldn't risk a fight-they didn't want damage. So they would leave us alone until we were too far gone to defend ourselves. Then they would board us and do their d.a.m.n experiments anyway. One way or another, we were all lost. The Amnion would get what they wanted, and I would get nothing.

"So I let them have me to experiment on."

If Ciro had showed any reaction, she might have started to yell at him. She needed an outlet for the gnawing pain of her despair. But for some reason his focused, unresponsive fear daunted her, like Taverner's immunity to restlessness.

"It worked," she told the boy bitterly. "I'm still human."

Again she shrugged. "But they hadn't bothered to tell me what kind of drug it was. I didn't find out until afterward.

"It's not an antimutagen, it's more subtle than that. It doesn't stop their mutagens. It postpones them. Like a temporary antidote. The mutagen stays in you, it stays alive, it works its way into every cell and wraps itself around your DNA strings, but it doesn't change you as long as you have this other drug in your system. How long the delay lasts depends on how much of this other drug you have in you-or how often you get it. You can stay human until you're cut off from your supply. After that"-she snapped her fingers-"you're an Amnioni."

She shifted her feet, adjusted her balance against the asteroid's light g.

"That's why I serve them, Ciro. If I don't, they'll stop giving me the antidote.

"And that's why you're you're going to serve going to serve me." me."

Sliding her left hand into a pocket of her shipsuit, she brought out a loaded hypo.

For a kid, the boy was quick. His face stretched and then crumpled as if he were panicking; he flinched backward a step. But his retreat was a feint. Too fast for real panic, he launched a flying kick at the hypo.

Fortunately Sorus was ready for him. She shifted to the side, pulled her left hand out of the way, blocked him past her with her right forearm.

The force of his kick glanced toward Milos Taverner.

Without effort, Taverner caught the boy's boot, spun him in midair, and wrapped both arms around him from behind.

Ciro struggled fiercely, wildly; making no sound. But he might as well have been trying to break free of an armcuff. The Amnioni had more than enough strength to hold him.

Now Sorus didn't hesitate. If she did, the darkness of her own actions might well up and drown her. Swift and relentless, she slapped a grip onto Ciro's wrist, stretched his forearm out from its sleeve to expose a patch of bare skin, and jabbed her hypo into him.

In two seconds the hypo was empty.

Nick Succorso's-so-called cabin boy had approximately ten minutes of humanity left.

She stepped back quickly, in case he tried another kick. But she saw at once that he was done fighting. He hung rigid in Taverner's grasp; gaped at the tiny red stigmata which the hypo had left on his skin. Then he drew back his head and opened his mouth for a scream of absolute horror.

With a long sweep of her arm, Sorus struck him across the cheek. The blow did nothing to ease her revulsion, but it stopped Ciro's cry.

"I told you to pay attention!" she barked. "Look "Look at me." at me."

As his head recoiled, he'd dropped his eyes to his forearm again; the mark of the hypo seemed to pull his gaze down. When she demanded it, however, he slowly brought up his face.

His expression made her feel like shooting him.

Trembling somewhere deep inside, she put the hypo away and took out a small vial.

"Think for a minute, Ciro. If I turned you into an Amnioni, you wouldn't be able to help me. Succorso would never let you back aboard.

"You're right. You have a mutagen in you. But it's slow. Are you listening? It's slow. slow. It won't start to work for ten more minutes. It won't start to work for ten more minutes.

"This"-she held the vial up in front of his face-"is the antidote. The drug that keeps the mutagen pa.s.sive."

His eyes seemed to claw at the vial as if he wanted to swallow it, plastic and all.

"There are six capsules here," she went on. "Each one lasts for an hour. I can give you six hours of your life back right now. And there's more where this came from. Plenty Plenty more. Enough to keep us both human as long as we live. more. Enough to keep us both human as long as we live.

"But I want you to think." think."

Abruptly Ciro thrashed against Taverner, threw himself into a fury of resistance. But the effort was useless: no doubt Taverner could have held Sorus as easily as he gripped the boy. After twenty seconds Ciro slumped, dangling in Taverner's arms.

"You want to know why we're here." Now he didn't look at Sorus or the vial; his head hung as if his neck were broken. "You want me to tell you." His voice struggled like a groan out of his constricted chest.

"Wrong." His dread touched fury in her. "I already f.u.c.king know know why you're here. I know all about Shaheed's research. So try again." why you're here. I know all about Shaheed's research. So try again."

He flinched. "Then you want me to do something for you. Something to Nick. Or the ship."

"Think," Sorus insisted. Sorus insisted.

"You can't want me to try to kill any of them," he breathed. She couldn't see his face; she could barely hear him. "I'm just a kid. I wouldn't stand a chance.

"You want me to do something to the ship."

"Go on."

"I don't know how to work the command boards," he protested. "I don't have the priority-codes. And anyway I'm never alone on the bridge."

She nodded slowly. "That's probably true. You'll have to think of something else."

He held his breath for a moment, then let it out in a burst like a m.u.f.fled sob. "You want me to sabotage the drives."

"Both of them," she p.r.o.nounced so that he couldn't misunderstand her. "You've been trained in engineering. You know how to do it. of them," she p.r.o.nounced so that he couldn't misunderstand her. "You've been trained in engineering. You know how to do it.

"That's all. You make sure Trumpet Trumpet can't outrun me. I'll handle the rest. She's finished if she can't run. I'll beat her, grapple on, cut my way in if I have to, take what I want. Then you can come with me. I'll keep you supplied for the rest of your life." can't outrun me. I'll handle the rest. She's finished if she can't run. I'll beat her, grapple on, cut my way in if I have to, take what I want. Then you can come with me. I'll keep you supplied for the rest of your life."

"Give me the pills," Ciro begged in a whisper.

"Not yet," she countered, tightening her fist on the vial. "There's one more thing I want you to understand.

"When I let you go, you could tell Succorso what I've done. As you say, you're just a kid. You might decide to be a hero. Or maybe you'll think I've been lying to you.

"But you can't hurt me. Try to understand that. I'm going to leave dock as soon as you're off the ship. Without more of this drug, you'll turn Amnion. Your friends will have to kill you. And I won't be any worse off than I am now. I can still tackle your ship in the swarm, before she can run.

"Is that clear, Ciro?"

She thought that he would nod: he appeared beaten enough to agree to anything. But she was wrong.

Still without raising his head-still hanging as if his neck had snapped-he objected, "What if it takes longer than six hours? I've never seen those drives. I've never even seen how they're accessed. What if I need more time?"

Now his head came up, lifted by the pressure of his racing heart. "Or what if Nick isn't done? What if I'm stuck here and you're out there when I run out of time?"

This time his voice cracked like a cry.

She met his flaring gaze and held it. Despite her years of service to the Amnion and her many visits to Billingate, she'd never before done what she was doing to him. Nevertheless she'd witnessed enough brutality, experienced enough, to foresee his argument-and prepare for it.

"All right," she sighed as if she were relenting. From another pocket she withdrew a second vial. "Six more hours." She wanted him scared, even terrified-not overwhelmed. "But that's as far as I go. If I don't have what I want in twelve hours, you're on your own."

He was a kid: twelve hours might seem like a long time.

His features twisted on the verge of tears; but she waited until she heard him breathe like a whimper, "All right." Then she told Taverner to let him go.

The instant Ciro was released, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the vials from her and fought one of them open, fumbling to get a capsule into his mouth before his ten minutes ran out.

Sorus Chatelaine knew exactly how he felt.

A few minutes later her command third took Ciro off the ship. His orders were to deliver the boy to Chief Retledge; explain that Ciro had been found lost or snooping near Soar Soar, and was being delivered to Security in order to avoid trouble with Captain Succorso; then return for an immediate departure.

When the outer lock had closed behind them, Sorus faced Taverner and demanded, "Good enough?"

Taverner's eyeshades made him seem more human, but they had no more expression than his alien gaze. Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own.

"Do you believe that this ploy will succeed?" He didn't stress the word "believe": their earlier conversation stressed it for him.

She snorted angrily. "Maybe you've forgotten what human fear looks like. I haven't. That boy is afraid. afraid. He'll do what I told him." He'll do what I told him."

She was sure. Men like Succorso didn't inspire the kind of loyalty that would lead Ciro to sacrifice himself.

"But that doesn't mean I think it'll work," she went on. "It might-or it might not. If he's scared enough, he might give himself away. What I 'believe,' "she sneered, "is that it's worth trying."

Taverner's pause might have been the Amnion equivalent of a shrug. Then, while they were alone in the airlock, and no one else could hear him, he announced flatly, "This installation must be destroyed."

She'd seen too many installations destroyed recently; too many lives lost. Despair filled her throat as she retorted, "Somehow I knew you were going to say that."

Taverner was insistent. "The knowledge which Captain Succorso seeks must die here. This installation must be destroyed."

Pain and darkness made her savage. Turning, she thumbed the control panel to open the inner doors. "That's one of the things a super-light proton cannon is good for."

As soon as the lock hummed aside, she pushed herself into motion, nearly bounding along the corridor in an attempt to put as much distance as possible between herself and the Amnioni who'd been a.s.signed to haunt her.

MIKKA.

She couldn't remain where she was; not now; not like this. Nick had told her to stay on watch outside the lab where he and Vector were presumably working-or where Vector worked while he watched-but she couldn't do it.

He was scheming: the signs were unmistakable. His efforts to keep the people aboard Trumpet Trumpet secret, like his unexpected decision to separate Sib, Ciro, and her made no obvious sense. They must be part of some plot. secret, like his unexpected decision to separate Sib, Ciro, and her made no obvious sense. They must be part of some plot.

Whatever he was plotting, it was going to hurt-her, or someone she cared about. She knew Nick well enough to recognize the malign exhilaration in his eyes.

The thought left her sick with dread and anger. She absolutely could not remain standing here indefinitely, useless, while harm moved against her brother and the few people she wanted to call her friends.

Regardless of the price Morn and Davies might pay later for her disobedience, she nodded to the guard Retledge had a.s.signed to watch with her, told him that she'd thought of a few things Sib and Ciro needed to include on their req lists, and walked away from the locked door.

The man didn't object or follow. She was secondary: what happened in that lab was his primary responsibility. And Beckmann's installation had plenty of other guards to make sure she didn't cause trouble.

In fact, she relied on encountering any number of guards. She'd never been here before, didn't know her way around. She would have to ask directions. And she didn't want anything she did to appear even remotely furtive. If or when Nick challenged her, she wanted to be able to name witnesses who could confirm what she told him.

Movement helped: acting on her own decisions helped. Her heart seemed to settle in her chest as she walked. At first she simply retraced her approach to the room where Vector worked. But as soon as she reached one of the Lab's main hallways, she began scanning for Security.

Techs and researchers in labsuits moved up and down the hall-so many of them that she suspected the installation's complex labs and experiments had reached a shift change. How many people lived here? She didn't know. This place was big; but still relatively small compared with shipyards like Billingate. Ordinary piracy attracted more illegals, if only because stealing was so much easier than the kind of work Beckmann carried on.

In five minutes she spotted a guard ahead of her, moving away. She strode after him.

He walked as if he were looking for someone. When she touched his arm to get his attention, he turned sharply and glared at her as if she'd interrupted something important.

She disliked him immediately. For some reason his tension sent anxiety crawling along her nerves like skinworms.

Nevertheless she made a point of noting the name on his Security id badge: "Klimpt." Witnesses with names were more useful than those without.

"Excuse me," she answered his glare. "I'm Mikka Vasaczk. Off Trumpet. Trumpet. I'm trying to find my brother. Ciro." I'm trying to find my brother. Ciro."

Like Nick, she'd called her brother "Pup" ever since he'd joined Captain's Fancy. Captain's Fancy. But in the past few days that nickname had begun to pain her. Ciro deserved better. But in the past few days that nickname had begun to pain her. Ciro deserved better.

The guard looked away, ran his eyes along the hallway, then faced her again, making no particular effort to be polite.

"Who?"

Under her bandage, Mikka's face clenched into its familiar scowl, but she kept her tone neutral. "Captain Succorso referred to him as 'Pup.' He has orders to req supplies from wherever you keep your food stores. I need to talk to him."

Klimpt's glare sharpened. Bending toward her aggressively, he demanded, "Why?"