War Games Part 17

"I would have thought he knew you for longer," Cheloi continued, half to herself, "especially if he depended on you as a co-conspirator. Koul doesn't trust easily. Unless...."

Lith closed her eyes and rested her head against the cold rough wall behind her.

It was over. All over.

"Did he find out something about you?"

"Yes." Her voice was dead. Listless.

"Was he blackmailing you, Lith?"

"Yes."

"With what? What does Koul know?"

Lith swallowed but kept her eyes shut. "He knows I'm from the Fusion."

The Fusion! How could this be? Cheloi knew the way her masters thought, the way they operated. A second person was never dropped into a covert operation like hers. To do so was to invite chaos.

But another part of Cheloi's mind was dancing with joy. She would have done cartwheels on the floor if her body didn't hurt so much. Lith's from the Fusion!

There's still a chance of seeing her again after this whole business is over!

Her heart leapt at the words before she could stop it. Maybe there was a future for her (for them!) after all. She felt her self-discipline weakening, giving in to images of Lith's delectable form laid out naked on snow-white sheets. Her eyes gleaming, her arms beckoning. Those full and firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s with nipples puckering, those long legs slowly spreading, inviting her- No!

A sharp stab of pain pulled her back from her daydreams and focused her thoughts.

There was too much at stake. Too much training, too much knowledge, too many moves already in play. She smothered all carnal thoughts a.s.sociated with Lith's revelation. Trying to breathe deeply helped because it hurt like h.e.l.l. What were the consequences of Lith's revelation?

The first one was all too apparent. Unfortunately.

"What about Drel?"

That would explain why Lith was relatively untouched while she felt like she'd been put through a coa.r.s.e shredder.

"Did you tell him you're from the Fusion?" Cheloi added.

And her optimism began to crumble when Lith said: "Yes."

Chapter Fourteen.

Day 1,536 of the War: "Laisen, you made it." The smile on Copan's face was understated but sincere.

Cheloi couldn't repress an answering smile. "It was a near thing, Doctor."

"Sit down. Tell me about it. We have lots to discuss." There was an edge to his voice. "But before we get to that, where are you now?"

Cheloi eased herself into the familiar armchair.

"I'm at the Nineteen's headquarters, at the clinic. Thankfully I have no organ punctures or they would have shipped me to one of the major medical centres."

He nodded. "Where a deep scan could reveal your non-Perlim origins."

"Quite possibly. The Fusion can work wonders but not genetic miracles."

The knowledge-immersion was undoubtedly the easiest part of any mission. At least that was something Cheloi could control. Unlike the operations to physically alter her, internally and externally.

This time the Fusion's bodywork specialists had left her a bit shorter than her usual height, modified her features and lightened her skin. They opened her up, fortified her anatomy and moved organs around, keeping them in their new positions with barely-visible fat-skein nets. Despite their wondrous technologies, however, the Fusion was not infallible. If Cheloi was to keep up the masquerade, she had to stay as far away from a fully-equipped hospital as possible.

With this in mind, the Fusion waited until the real Cheloi Sie had pa.s.sed all the deep scans and was already on Menon IV before murdering her. Laisen replaced her at the tail-end of a battle where most of the senior commanders had already perished. It was as neat an insertion as anybody could have wished. And it kept her secret safe.

Until now. Lith's secret had the potential to blow her entire mission six ways past the Menon sun.

Cheloi briefly related to Copan what had happened in Drel's underground tunnel complex and the method of her escape. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, but said nothing until she ground to a halt.

"So the rebels know Lith is Fusion?"

"Yes."

Cheloi thought she might have been able to salvage every situation, except the one she now found herself in.

"What do you see as your options?"

She shook her head. "None of them are good. I could expose Lith as a Fusion agent."

"Except you've developed feelings for her."

Cheloi looked sharply at the psychiatrist, who smiled. "Come now, Laisen, did you think I wouldn't know? I've been living in your cortex for years now. I know your responses the moment a synapse fires." He looked at her, not unkindly. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

"I didn't want-"

"I don't think it's ever a question of want. You've fallen for Lith because she's intelligent and pa.s.sionate and you've been keeping yourself aloof from romantic entanglements for too many years. In my report on your suitability for this mission, I pointed that out as one of your vulnerabilities. Unfortunately, you have a singular inability to f.u.c.k then walk away. I tried suggesting that as a strategy for you, but should have known it was a doomed hope."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yet you did encourage me to start a physical relationship with Lith in the first place."

Copan shrugged. "That was when I thought she was Perlim. In the end, you would have had no choice. You would have been forced to leave her. But in the meantime, it would have kept you balanced and mentally healthy."

She looked at him for the s.p.a.ce of two heartbeats. "You're a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Doctor."

He ignored the remark. "What are you going to do?"

Her gaze bored into his for a moment before she set aside her anger. "If I expose Lith as Fusion, the mission can be saved."

"But she will probably be executed."

Cheloi exhaled. A long slow breath. "Yes, that's true. Or I could kill Drel to keep him quiet."

"And how would you find him?"

"I don't know. Set up a barrage of the area and hope it gets him. I think I can pinpoint where I was being held."

"You would be killing a lot of other people."

"I know."

Sab-Iqur all over again.

"I could spread disinformation," she said absently. "Say that was a lie, a ploy, on Lith's part to escape."

Copan brightened. "Would it work?"

"No." She paused and straightened. "Maybe. After all, the reason I doubted her loyalty in the first place was because her family came from a world just on the border of Fusion s.p.a.ce. The medical facilities on Menon are known to be basic. n.o.body would believe a guerilla leader would have access to sophisticated medical tests to be able to verify her statement."

"So you're thinking that what made you doubt her, may have rea.s.sured Drel. Which is why you were able to escape?"

She grimaced. "Possibly."

"What if," Copan said slowly, "she's playing you both for fools? Telling both you and Drel what you want to hear?"

That was a truly unpalatable thought.

She shook her head. "If I start down that path, I'll be creating conspiracies within conspiracies."

"Just remember," he warned. "If your disinformation plan doesn't work, you may have to make the hard decision, Laisen. Lith Yinalna or the Fusion."

"I'm well aware of that, Doctor."

"And speaking of hard decisions," he paused. "You've no doubt guessed about the trigger of my program during abnormal times of stress."

"Your voice yelling in my head is not something I'm liable to forget."

"The trigger happens for a reason. And one of them is when an agent is thinking of committing suicide." He searched her face. "If it was up to me, I'd pull you from the mission right now."

"No," Cheloi objected, her voice sharp. "I'm too close now. It's all about to come apart for the Empire, I can feel it."

"Really? In which case, why were you so ready to throw it all away just two days ago?"

She remained silent.

"Unfortunately," he said with a sigh, "I'm not in a position to act on my inclinations. We're too far away from the Fusion and I can't force you to activate the displacement signal in your wrist."

Cheloi brightened. "No, you can't."

"But I still have grave concerns regarding that episode in Drel's interrogation room. It will be part of my official report, Laisen Carros."

Hopefully, by the time the wetware module was extracted and downloaded, it would be too late to do anything.

"Whatever you say, Doctor."

And he had to be satisfied with that.

"No."

Rumis took a deep breath. "Colonel-"

Cheloi plastered the most forbidding look she could muster on her face. "No, Rumis. For the tenth time, I'm not getting shipped to Regional Medical."

Rumis' lips twitched. "I'm sure that was only the sixth time, Colonel."

The bed was so comfortable, Cheloi thought, she could close her eyes and sleep for days. Her eyelids fluttered briefly as they matched action to image. There were no windows in the underground infirmary, but she was being well looked after. There was no bare ground under her fingers, no rough burlap to lean against, no teetering boxes to watch out for.

She and Lith had made it to the nearest Nineteen Perlim outpost during the early hours of the previous morning and had been transported immediately to the territory's HQ. There was a flurry of activity and both women were separated. Cheloi knew she should have been worried about such things but she was too tired to care. As she told Copan, there were no serious injuries to treat. The rebels had wanted her in reasonable shape for her show-trial, and the slight anatomical fortifications the Fusion had given her had worked well. She was confident she could get all the medication and treatment she required locally. Anything the Perlim doctors missed could be put right by the Fusion later on.

"What if you need a treatment we don't have?" Rumis asked, pressing the point. "Maybe your leg will give you more problems? Why take the chance, Colonel?"

For more reasons than you'll understand.

Cheloi gazed at her adjutant and once again felt that uncomfortable mixture of affection and despair. The time would come when she'd have to leave him behind. Would he remember her with affection? Would he want to remember her at all?

"Because my cynicism knows no bounds, Rumis." She flicked her eyes meaningfully to the open door of the small room. He tightened his lips and nodded, unhappy that she had chosen to delay the conversation by implying there were other ears listening to the conversation. Delay, because Cheloi knew the subject had only been filed away for future retrieval, not discarded. Rumis's tenacity was a two-edged blade.

"How is the lieutenant?" Cheloi asked.

She had been waiting to ask that question, had choked down waves of impatience so she sounded concerned rather than frantic. Rumis's eyes lit up briefly.

"Doing well."

"She's in the dormitory ward?"

He nodded. "There was an accident with one of the explosives teams. It was nothing fatal," he hastened to add, "but she'll have company for a few days. She, er, didn't seem to be in as bad shape as you when you came in."

"They wanted the Butcher of Sab-Iqur, Rumis," she reminded him gently, "not a lackey."

But she could see he remained unconvinced.

"We didn't get much time to talk." She shifted position and winced at the sharp pain. "Maybe when I'm feeling better, we can organise a debriefing session."

"Colonel Grakal-Ski has already asked me to set one up between him and the lieutenant for tomorrow."

Suddenly, Cheloi was wide awake.