Bitter Angels (12 page)

“Things can be faked. Things can be grown.”

“They faked a human body? A well-known and thoroughly IDed human body?”

The gleam in Siri’s eye brightened. She was sure she had me. “A body in an advanced state of decay, shipped back in puddles and pieces. Hospital the size of a planet, remember? You’ve never heard of stem cells? You know, the little bits of you that can be used to grow other bits of you?”

I sat there biting my lips against the ideas that swirled through my mind. Me carry Bianca’s companion? What about Dylan? Dylan screamed when they cut him out of me. I screamed. He died. I died. The hole was too deep, too permanent. There was no filling it. I would not have another Companion trying to straddle that abyss inside me.

The thought twisted my guts, and yet…there was something in it. I didn’t want a Companion. I didn’t want to
face that dependency or that loss, again. But what if I carried Bianca’s Companion? The one who had been there with her, the one who knew all the secrets she had kept to herself?

The idea repulsed me as it beckoned me. To have even that much of Bianca back. Could I stand to have a part of Bianca with me?

If there was even the smallest possibility that Bianca might be alive, could I refuse?

“I did.” But for the first time since she came in, Siri wasn’t looking at me. “He didn’t believe me.”

Relief like a tidal wave washed over me. Not because of what she said, but because as she shifted her weight and rubbed her hand back and forth on the sofa cushion next to her, I understood that she had not only been turned down, but turned down flat, and this was a desperate attempt to revive a dead cause.

“That’s it, then,” I said.

“No,” snapped Siri. “It isn’t. If you’d just
look…”

“No.”

“Listen, Terese…”

I shook my head, hard. “It is not possible,” I told her. “They would have had to fake the memory node that had her last words stored in it. They would have had to have known my name and our relationship. There’s too much.”

“Hospital the size of a planet,” repeated Siri. “With a hell of a reputation for doing the impossible out in the colonies. I know, because I looked. We don’t know what they can do out there.”

“Because then we’d have his memories,
Bianca’s
memories, to work from. You worked with her longer than anyone. You’d be able to interpret the fragments better…”

I couldn’t stand it. The pain was too much. “Why in God’s nine billion names are you doing this, Siri?”

Siri licked her lips. “Because she sent me away and I left. I didn’t ask, I didn’t think about it. I just sulked and I went, and she was caught and maybe cut up and maybe worse, and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

I nodded. “I know just how you feel.”

“Then will you at least consider it?”

For a moment hope, bright and cruel as a knife, presented itself to me. It took every ounce of strength I had to turn away. “No, Siri. I cannot believe it. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I swallowed. This was no time to lie. “Because if I do, I will go in there ready to tear the place apart with my bare hands. I won’t give a shit about any other part of this mission.”

I straightened my spine and my voice sharpened, taking on the tone I use for giving orders without my conscious will. “You don’t bring this up again. Not to me, not to Vijay, not to anybody. And if you aren’t going to be able to keep your mind on the real mission, you say so right now, do you understand me?”

Anger sparked deep in Siri’s gaze, but she simply said, “You have no idea how much she did for you.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t,” she said in a hot, harsh whisper. “If you knew, if you
really
knew, you’d do anything to find her.”

I had her gaze and I held it, watching every shift of her eyes, watching her shoulders slump one millimeter at a time.

Siri squared her shoulders, coming to attention even though she remained seated. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, and I nodded, just like Misao.

We talked a little more, about this and that, minutiae about the mission arrangements blended and blurred with trivia about the new XP games she’d gotten me to try and the new restaurant we’d ordered from last night. She left without referring to her theory again.

But even as the shield opaqued, I knew she wouldn’t give the idea up for as long as the mission lasted. I sat there with my hands on my knees, trying to blink the conversation back into forgetfulness.

I could not believe Bianca was still alive.

I could not believe it for all the reasons I had given Siri, and one more. Because it meant I had done less for her than she had done for me, and I didn’t know if I could live with that.

The room was stifling, but Emiliya did not turn on the vents. Running the vents cost. Instead, she’d opened the door behind her. Voices drifted in from the hallway and from the rooms next door. She ignored them. Instead, she kept her mind and her eyes on the fold-up screen in front of her, studying her day’s reports, making sure she had filled in all the lines and boxes correctly so that she was not fined for mistakes.

On Hospital, the Clerks didn’t follow lowly scan-and-stitch physicians personally. They followed their records. Those records controlled appointments, postings, future opportunities, and, most important, debts. It was vital that she not give them additional opportunities to up her load.

Except she hadn’t done all that well at the academy. She’d tried and she’d tried again, until she made herself sick and
broke down, and adding to her debt because she became a patient as well as a student. In the end, she could only scrape out a general degree, which was nothing. The kind of work she was given barely covered the cost of supplies.

“Hey, Emiliya!”

Emiliya jerked her head up and around to see a young man leaning in from the brightly lit corridor.

“Hey, Piata,” she answered with much less enthusiasm.

“Records?”

Emiliya grunted an affirmative and faced the screen again, hoping that Piata would take the hint and leave her alone.

He didn’t. He strolled inside and squatted down next to the desk, folding his gangly arms to rest on the edge. He had a sharp face and tan skin. Dark freckles dusted his cheeks and the backs of his delicate hands. The prominent bones of his wrists stuck out from under the weighted cuffs of his professional whites. A gold-crystal-studded cap covered his ginger hair.

“Got the word that you’re heading up the team on the new saints.”

Emiliya sighed and leaned all the way back.

“Looks that way.” She folded her arms and cocked her head toward him. “You want the job?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Piata’s eyes opened wide with surprise. His irises were a strange tarnished-gold color. Emiliya expected they were a modification, possibly a home brew, that didn’t go quite right. “You’ve hit the jackpot.”

“No jackpots in Erasmus anymore, Piata. You know that.”

His cocky grin didn’t falter. “There is if you get your debt cleared.”

“You get debt-free, you stand a chance. You can even leave.”

Emiliya rubbed her eyes.
I don’t have time for this
. She hadn’t had a whole lot to eat today and even though she was used to it, it was making her short-tempered. “What are you talking about?”

“Brahm Rajandur.”

“And what’s a Brahm Rajandur?”

“Brahm Rajandur is the guy who brought the last saint into Hospital.”

“Oh yeah?”

Emiliya held on to her temper with difficulty. “Look, either make sense or go away.”

“Brahm Rajandur.” Piata straightened himself. “Look him up.” He tapped the edge of her screen. “He got publicly cleared of all his debts, and he’s in a positive salary now.”

Emiliya faced her screen and her report. “Go away, Piata.”

“Okay. Okay.” He held up both hands and backed away. “I’m going.”

Emiliya didn’t watch him leave. She scrolled down through her work. The mountain of red tape and registry work was going to make her late for the discount hour in the cafeteria. She sighed and called up her accounts, looked at the negative balance, and sighed again, smoothing her hair back with both hands.

And as if her hash of feelings about Amerand weren’t enough, Kapa showed up.

She’d been having tea with Amerand when she got Kapa’s ping. It had taken all her will-power not to run out of the room then and there. It had taken her hours to work up the nerve to go down and see him. What a joke that Amerand caught them together.

Of course, Kapa might have arranged that. He did things like that.

Kapa.

He had broadened out, a lot. His hands were thick. The muscles on his neck stood out and he’d already started to get wrinkles around his eyes. He’d lost a tooth and had a stupid, flashy amethyst replacement. He looked terrible.

He looked magnificent.

“Kapa.” She had said his name softly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear her over the constant noise of the crowded port. But his head swiveled around, and his eyes lit up.

“Emiliya!” He strode over—long, easy, light-footed strides despite his weighted boots. “I was starting to wonder if you got my message.”

The last time she’d seen him, he’d been a skinny boy. That time, she’d kissed him hard and buried her fingers in his hair. This time, she couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

His grin broadened. “I promised, didn’t I?”

Oh, he’d promised.
I’m getting us out of here, Emiliya
, he’d said.
All the way out
.

But he’d just shrugged, like it was no big deal. “It took longer than I hoped. But I’m here now.” Kapa stepped close, and took her hands. His touch was heavy, slow, nothing like she remembered. “I’ve got a license and I’m a pilot, and I’ve got a berth for a doctor.” He lifted her hands as if he meant to kiss them.

“I can’t go with you!” She remembered how she pulled away, how it was a relief and terribly painful at the same time.

He stared at her then. “Why not?”

“I’m on contract with Hospital until my debt is cleared. I can’t move a pinky unless they tell me to!”
You’re too late!

“God-Alone, Emiliya.”

“And I’ve still got family,” she barreled on. “My mother, my brothers and sister back on Dazzle. If I go AWOL, what happens to them?”

He threw out his hands like he always had when they argued. “Did I say AWOL? Do you really think I’d come back here if I couldn’t get you out clean?”

“This is not clean. Clean is getting a request through channels. This is…shadows.”

“Sorry I didn’t fill out all the proper forms, Emiliya.” He sneered at her, the curl of his lip revealing a hint of that stupid purple tooth. “But I’m here and I’m asking anyway. You say yes and the rest is just that: forms.”

“Except you’d have to buy me, Kapa.”

He shrugged again. “So what?”