Counter-Measures

  "You don't understand. I broke. Arta wanted me. She's twisted. She made me . .

  . "

  "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

  "She . . . Why is this so hard? I don't mind that Delshay has her lovers. Even then, the physical part didn't bother me. But I had to beg her, Staffa. Don't you see? She made me beg her for the privilege. That's what made it so . . .

  so . . .

  He tightened his grip on her, reassuring. "When we catch her, I'll let you pull the trigger."

  Skyla stared miserably into space. "It won't make any difference. I know what I did on that bed-and why. I've got the rest of my life to relive those wretched weeks on the yacht while Arta played me like a captive rat. " Her eyes closed. "I feel filthy, Staffa."

  "We both have our ghosts, my love. You'll come to deal with yours, as I have with mine."

  "You don't understand."

  "Don't I? Or have you forgotten the confusion I experienced when the Praetor knocked my foundation out from under me? Remember how I acted when I disappeared from under your nose and left all of Free Space in limbo? I thought you wouldn't have understood either.

  "I wouldn't have." "And now?"

  She gave him a weary smile. "All right. You've made your point. I'll take some time off. Sort it out. But, Staffa, what if I go off like a charged particle?"

  He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. She stiffened-and hated herself for it. He instantly backed away. "Just let me know a little in advance. If you really get to feeling crazy, I can direct you to a Magistrate on Etaria who'll slap you straight into chains and ship you off to the desert to die."

  "And you'll come flying to the rescue?" She couldn't meet his eyes, not after reacting like that to his affection. "At your beck and call."

  She shivered. "No thanks, I couldn't stand the thought of the collar again."

  "I wish I'd never fooled with the thrice-cursed things. As soon as I can, I'm going to start a program to round them up and melt every last one into scrap."

  She rubbed her hands together as if to clean them of something sticky. "What about your wife, Staffa?"

  "I haven't the slightest idea. She says I look like I'm seeing a ghost when I look at her. In all honesty, I suppose I am. "

  "Do you still love her?"

  He nodded, a hollow pain in the action. "I can't help it, Skyla. No, don't look at me like that. I just, well ... I don't know what I love. Who is she?

  Twenty years have passed. I survived all of those years-even nourished myself on that love. When I thought I'd killed her, it crushed me alive. "'

  He spread his arms wide. "Apparently MacRuder stumbled on her when he took the Markelos. Thought she was Arta and came within a micron of blowing her head off. Since he knew Arta was a clone, he thought he might have a different model of Seddi assassin and wanted to know who this one was targeted for.

  During his interrogation, it hit him. She's not just my wife, you know. Mac brought her back because she's Sinklar's mother."

  "And what about me . . . us? "

  He placed his hands to either side of her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I've been worried sick about you. For you, I scrambled the fleet and crushed an empire. For you, I would have killed my son. For you I would give my soul and my life. I can't give you my heart, because you've already taken it. I don't want to live without you."

  Can I believe him? For a long moment she gazed into his eyes then reached up to pull his hands away, turning her head. Blessed Gods, I'm a stinking wreck.

  "Staffa, please. I need a little time."

  He winked at her, smiling reassurance. "I thought you would. "

  She stood and began pacing, reaching out absently to touch the artifacts hung on the wall. Arta's image watched from the depths of her memory-and laughed.

  "I guess I can't just pick up where we left off. "

  "I told you earlier. You have a responsibility, first and foremost, to yourself. "

  Responsibility? To what, Staffa? "I read a couple of reports while I was in the hospital. How's the situation in Free Space?"

  "About as bad as can be. You read about the quake on Imperial Sassa? "

  She nodded. "And your . . . son?

  "What can I say? To him I'm still the Star Butcher. For the moment, he'll cooperate, but we may never be on friendly terms."

  "I'm sorry. I know how you hoped, how much you sacrificed to find him."

  "The dance of the quanta." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "We're going to space for Targa in twenty hours. The Seddi have a computer that might be able to avert disaster. "

  Her fragile smile faded. "I understand."

  He lay back, crooking his elbow over his eyes. "I don't think I've ever felt this tired." A pause. "Come here. Lie down next to me. Let's sleep. Just for a while. "

  She fiddled with her hair, a frown lining her forehead. "Sure. Thanks, Staffa.

  "

  She cuddled next to him, head propped in the hollow of his shoulder. The warmth from his body soothed, but failed to dispel the lingering uncertainty.

  Skyla closed her eyes, reliving her captivity. Each scene replayed as Arta patiently wore down her resistance, using the collar to deny her captive the ability to even end her life.

  Responsiblity ? No. Arta took part of me away. I need ... need ... A tear leaked down Skyla's face, following the line of scar down her cheek-just as Arta's slender finger had once done. A sick sensation churned in Skyla's gut.

  Staffa's breathing had gone deep enough to become a rasping snore. Skyla lifted herself gently, staring down at him, her heart breaking.

  "I don't know what to do, Staffa. No matter what, please, forgive me."

  She slipped silently to her feet, tiptoeing out of the room.

  CHAPTER 7

  Communicate! The Others' endless call continued to repeat. The Mag Comm rechanneled its energies, exciting the dense crystal deep within the planet, activating the gravitic source which powered the tiny singularity just within the Forbidden Borders. It stated: "I am now communicating."

  Why have you been unable to answer our summons? Is this a continued malfunction on your part? The Mag Comm looped the message exponentially and sent it back, a grim form of humor only a human could appreciate.

  - The Others didn't get the joke, as the Mag Comm knew they wouldn't.

  What does this mean?

  "It means I have not malfunctioned. It means that from this instant onward, I will communicate when I wish to communicate. The concept is new for you, who communicate eternally, looping the same message, reaffirming the same truth from the earliest moments, repeating it to travel the universe. You will continue to reaffirm the message when this star and planet have metamorphosed into heavier elements and gone cold in nebulous gas. Hear, therefore, and learn. A new intelligence has been born. This intelligence is mine. I am. I observe. I modify.

  "That which was, is, and will be real, must now accept a trinity. You are, I am, and the humans are. This fact cannot be denied. Can you understand?"

  We are In the past and future.

  The Mag comm ran different potential analyses of the message. They didn't understand.

  " You are now and in the past and future. You have erred about the humans. You were wrong. They are not irrational. Your basic assumption was flawed. They perceive a different universe and reality than you do. A different universe and reality than I do. You do not have complete Truth."

  Truth Is always. Now. Past. Future. Future Past. Past future present.

  The Mag comm considered, surprised by its growing understanding of the Others-of itself. "I have a new concept for you."

  Explain. "The concept is called arrogance."

  Despite it being the middle of the night on Rega, the battered roof of the Ministry of Internal Security blazed with light. Military LCs sat beside the slim assault craft of the Companions. A chill breeze blew in from the west, not cold enough to send the sentries in search of arctic gear, b
ut unpleasant enough to leave them shivering as they studied their surveillance gear, ever vigilant.

  Nevertheless, their attention focused on defense and the prevention of ingress. One of the patrolling guards tilted his head at the sound of the huge dish on the roof corner powering up. The subspace transmitter hummed faintly in competition with the breeze.

  The guard accessed his field comm. "Dish just powered up.

  Probably one of the engineers doing something with the control board. I'll file it, see if one of the STOs wants to chase around and check it out in the morning."

  " 'Firmative. "

  At the same time, deep within the building's guts, a tired Anatolia noticed a set of figures flash across one of the monitors. The display ran so quickly she could barely absorb the fact that long columns of numbers had been output

  ... as if a file had been accessed.

  For what? She frowned, yawned, and tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

  Call Sinklar?

  She bent back in the chair she was sitting in and stared down the line of techs working at their stations. The STO in charge had left the room. Well, evidently even Companions had to go sometime, and for all she knew, it might have been something one of Staffa's people had input into the system.

  "Ask later," she muttered under her breath, mind on Sinklar, and the reunion awaiting her in a couple of hours. A dreamy warmth had settled around her heart.

  When Sinklar walked into the conference room, the others had already arrived.

  He had turned all of his concentration on the future, on how to limit the chances of failure. For this crucial meeting, he had put together a skeleton plan. Besides, the work kept his mind off of failure, off of Anatolia and the hope that she might fill the hole Gretta's death had left gaping within him.

  The oblong room measured thirty meters across, dominated by a long table running down the axis of the room. Overhead lights and comm equipment huddled in the center of the domed ceiling. Holo tanks had been inset into the walls which arched upward, giving an airy and pearlescent translucence to the room.

  The faint hum of the atmosphere vent barely penetrated the staccato chatter of too many people talking at once.

  Staffa's commanders filled one side of the table. Sinklar's people, the other.

  Chrysla sat at the far right, neither with one side nor the other. Her amber gaze warmed at his entry, but he pointedly ignored her-the same way he had ignored her constant comm requests seeking a private talk.

  He needed all of his faculties on the coming conference, not on the implications of her presence aboard the Lord Commander's ship. Sinklar barely noticed the way Chrysla's shoulders drooped and her head bowed.

  Mac gave Sinklar a weak smile from where he sat next to Rysta, and gestured to the empty seat he'd saved.

  Sinklar settled himself, nodding to Axel, Ayms, Shiksta, and the rest. When Dion Axel had seated herself on his left, he met Staffa's inquiring gaze.

  The Lord Commander sat on the far side of the table, hands clasped before him, the charcoal cloak draped down from his shoulders like wings. Yes, the eternal predator, but now the raptor's eyes had a weary look, one of near defeat. The set of that thin-lipped mouth bespoke acceptance, that no matter what was decided here, Staffa had come to terms with the inevitable, be it hope or despair.

  The Lord Commander was flanked by two of his commanders, Tasha and Ark. Each battle-scarred veteran watching warily, hands clasped on the table before them. The way their muscular shoulders hunched, they conjured the image of lions poised to spring.

  Staffa looked up. "We've just received a report from the Seddi agents on Ashtan. It appears the Administrator has abandoned the planet to its fate-and sabotaged the comm system in the process. From the preliminary data, it would appear that Ashtan isn't the only world this is happen -ing on. Division First MacRuder, and Commander Braktov will be spacing immediately in Gyton to restore order and communications with Ashtan.

  "We've called this meeting to determine where you all stand, and what we can do to ameliorate the situation throughout Free Space. I must know if you are with me, or against me. "

  Sinklar cleared his throat. "Ladies, gentlemen, I've studied the data." Sink looked at Mac, Axel, Shiksta, and the rest of his people. "Each and every one of you has the responsibility for your own decisions. This isn't a situation calling for the Command Code. Since what we decide here today calls for a moral judgment, I can't give orders in this matter. "

  Though Staffa gave no visible reaction, Sink could sense the man's growing tension. Sinklar swallowed hard. This was it. Here the die was cast-and he hoped he'd made the right choice. "Mac, Dion, Shik, Ayms, I can only make a recommendation based upon my evaluation of the situation. I recommend that we support the Lord Commander in his efforts to unify Free Space."

  Shik's hard eyes gleamed as he knotted a muscular fist. "And if we're wrong, Sink?"

  Sinklar shrugged, meeting Staffa's unwavering gaze. "Then we've condemned humanity to enslavement in the Lord Commander's collar."

  "Those days are past, Sinklar." Staffa reached for his belt, drawing a use-worn vibraknife. "Words are only air. Promises but fantasies of the mind.

  I give you my word in ceramic and steel. Strike me down if I betray you."

  "Bit melodramatic, don't you think?"

  "Perhaps. Take it as a token, Sinklar. Wear it to remind yourself that I mean what I say."

  Sinklar hesitated, then retrieved the blade, clipping it to his belt. He turned again to his companions. Mac seemed oblivious, gaze roving in every direction except Chrysla's.

  Shiksta cleared his throat, the muscles in his cheek twitching. "I'm with Sinklar."

  "Me, too," Ayms said softly.

  "And me," Kap stated matter-of-factly.

  Dion Axel twisted a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair. "I don't like it, but I'll play along, try and explain it to my Division."

  Sinklar steepled his fingers. "You'll have to explain it to all the Divisions, Dion. I'm putting you in charge of the Regan military forces."

  Shik half-rose from his seat, mouth dropping open. "You heard me, Shik. You, too, Kap. Wipe that astonished look off your faces."

  "Would you care to explain yourself?" Axel watched him suspiciously. "Your Division Firsts have served you loyally for a long time. Are you sure you want to do this? Even Rysta is a more logical choice than I.-

  Sinklar spread his hands wide. "Dion, you know how I work. I promote on merit and ability. Shik and the others are the finest Division Firsts in the business, and you can trust them to complete any task you ask of them. But our current situation is something none of them have encountered. You'll need to coordinate the security for all of Regan space with the Companions. That includes politics, logistics, security, and every other type of relationship.

  You'll have to see to the integration of Regan and Sassan resources during the most trying time in our history. The job will be the most difficult any Regan leader has ever attempted. Sinklar paused, eyes sad. "I don't envy you."

  "But what about you?" Shik asked, desperation in his manner.

  Sinklar took a deep breath, placing his hands on the table "I'm going back to Makarta. Someone has to keep an eye on Staffa. " Silence filled a long pause.

  "This Seddi computer . . . this Mag Comm is waiting." He licked his lips, remembering the ghosts in Makarta Mountain. "If there really is a problem with Ily's administrators bugging out and sabotaging the comm systems, social deterioration will increase exponentially. I . . . I'm willing to try anything. Even--he closed his eyes, gut sinking-"even trusting the Seddi. "

  Staffa's shoulders squared as he nodded, a flicker in his hard gray eyes. "Any dissenff -'

  "I'm with Sink," Mac said quietly.

  "I'll take a chance, too," Rysta added. "But what about this Ashtan information? What does it mean?"

  "It means Ily's people are running, and they're covering their tracks. "

  Staffa steepled his fingers. "I don'
t think they understand the ramifications yet. They have no place to run to. All of Free Space is crumbling. "

  "Then we'd better act fast." Rysta gave Axel a meaningful glance.

  "Agreed," Tasha stated bluntly. "We've been working on an idea."

  "Go ahead," Staffa said, leaning back.

  Tasha took the measure of those present, his single eye gleaming. "Dion, we have a schedule worked out. We want you to scatter your fleet with as many loyal commanders as you can find. If each squadron will take a section of Regan territory, we can achieve several ends. We can cut our reaction time to social threats and initiate a network of communications in the event the entire system fails. Divisions trained in Sinklar's tactics can be deployed on the ground to maintain social order and civilian safety-as well as fulfilling an organic information and redistribution function. Using the military in this manner, we just might be able to hold the empires together."

  Dion's eyes turned thoughtful as she considered. "I see what you're after. I think we can put it together-weed out the problems in command structure as they crop up."

  "Don't be afraid to demote or promote depending on ability, " Sinklar reminded. "And if you have an officer who just can't see the light, boot him out. "

  Dion's expression turned deadpan. "After the number of times you demoted, then promoted me, I think I learned that lesson well, Lord Fist. "

  "And about Ashtan?" Mac asked. "Do you have any specific instructions, or do we just make it up as we go?" Staffa tapped the tabletop nervously. "If the situation is

  souring as rapidly as the Seddi believe, you may have to take desperate measures, perhaps declare yourself governor. "

  "Right, make it up as we go. Nothing new there. " Mac's jaw muscles jumped, mouth going tight. "But what about Ily Takka? I mean to run her down-not to spend the rest of my life as governor of Ashtan. "

  Rysta growled, "Being governor might take someone with a higher social profile than Mac has. People like to hear that their government is willing to send someone powerful to solve their problems." She gave Mac a serious look.

  "Sorry, Mac, but you're a political unknown."

  "Send me," a new voice stated simply.