Hour of Judgement (22 page)

And pulled it through the holes in the wall that he’d broken with the bottle, displacing baseboards and chip-frames and nodes as he did so.

Not neatly done.

But it would do the trick.

Now he would go and see if he could talk Captain Lowden into giving him a drink.

###

Port Burkhayden was full of Nurail, natives and non-natives, and it was very poor. These things together combined to very satisfying effect for Captain Lowden. There was a certain degree of commonality between one run of Nurail and some Dolgorukij: and this service house had an employee on staff who could almost pass for Aznir. In the dark. If he kept his mouth shut, and why would he speak, if not spoken to?

Two housemen to assist, and the one to comprise Captain Lowden’s entertainment — he could play out some favorite fantasies, to while away the hours before he would hear from Koscuisko himself. Had the gardener done it? Lowden didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Koscuisko would bring him the confession, or Koscuisko knew who would suffer for it, and it would be an additional point of interest — Lowden decided — if he were to keep the blond houseman with him, all through the night and into the morning, and take Koscuisko’s report even as Lowden performed certain select of his morning ablutions with the assistance — no, with the enforced assistance — of someone who looked at least enough like Koscuisko for Koscuisko to get the idea.

There was no knock, but the door to the suite opened anyway. So unexpected was the appearance of the man who stood in the open doorway that Lowden almost thought for a moment he’d made his choice known to the housemaster already, and the houseman had come dressed up in costume to play his role.

Surprise lasted a moment, but no more than that. It was Andrej Koscuisko. And Koscuisko was drunk: so much was clear by the stumbling of his feet as he crossed the threshold.

“Andrej. A surprise. Had I asked for you?”

Because Koscuisko was uninvited, unexpected, and would be unwelcome unless he had very good reason to have come this soon. Koscuisko turned his back on his Captain, back toward the door, locking it and throwing the privacy-bolt with sudden single — mindedness. Drunk. Yes, absolutely.

“I need a drink, Captain, one moment. What have they got for us? Oh, good. Here’s wodac.”

Drunk, and no keepers. All of Koscuisko’s Security were back at Center House. The Security that Koscuisko had to have brought here with him, and left downstairs with the others, were Lowden’s Security. They didn’t know. In all of these years Chief Stildyne had never once let Koscuisko be seen out of quarters when he was drunk.

What was Stildyne afraid of?

“Excuse me, here, Andrej, you’re forgetting. I’m the Captain. You’re the Chief Medical officer. You answer my questions. What are you doing here? I thought you had work to do.”

The suite had a dining table as the central feature of its outer room, with the bedroom and an exercise room through chastely half-opened doors at either end. Pulling a chair clear from the table, Koscuisko sat down. “Oh, we are finished. Yes. I need to talk to you about that. A disappointment.”

Took the lip-seal off the bottle of liquor with a casual gesture and drank, slumped in his chair at the table. Leaning well back. Koscuisko’s blouse wasn’t fastened properly. The neckband of his under-blouse was undone, and all in all the effect was unprofessional in the extreme.

All right. Captain Lowden had never seen Koscuisko drunk. So he’d never had this experience before, of being ignored by Koscuisko, of having to work to extract meaning from what Koscuisko said. Lowden sat down at the table facing his inebriated Ship’s Inquisitor. The houseman he would order up could be made to sit there, later on — an agreeable juxtaposition. Not too much later on, though, or the administration would hear about it. Lowden already knew that the port was busy. That was no excuse for keeping Command Branch waiting.

“Explain yourself, Andrej,” Lowden suggested, in a carefully genial tone of voice. Koscuisko didn’t seem to have remembered that an explanation was owing. “Why aren’t you at Bench offices?”

Shaking his head, Koscuisko all but interrupted, gesturing with the bottle. Which had already lost a noticeable amount of weight. “A mistake, Captain Lowden, and that is the charitable explanation. Were I a suspicious man I could think much worse of you. But out of charity I must insist that you actually believed that the gardener might have done it.”

What did that have to do with anything?

“Charges are preferred, Andrej,” Lowden warned. Had he made too quick an assumption? How else could the situation have been interpreted? “And that means Inquiry and Confirmation. You’re good, but you’re not that good, no one is. It’s only been — how long?”

Charges were charges. And Koscuisko would answer to him for any failure to obey his master’s instructions. That man of Koscuisko’s, that Nurail, St. Clare
. . .

Koscuisko shuddered, and took a drink. “Oh, eights and eights, Captain. And he was very obedient to me. And I wanted him, Captain, I wanted him a very great deal. It was difficult.”

Had Koscuisko made a mistake, and killed the man?

Why else would he be speaking of the Inquiry in the past tense?

If Koscuisko had — Koscuisko knew better than to stage any “accidents” —

“Frank language, Andrej.” Much more frank, or even coarse, than Lowden was accustomed to hearing from Chief Medical. Lowden began to wonder whether his longstanding suspicions — about what Koscuisko got up to in quarters with his Bonds when he was drunk — were true after all. There would be a good joke in there if so; Lowden could pretend to misunderstand the precise nature of Koscuisko’s mission. “You don’t want him any longer, I take it? Why is that? Is it — ”

Captain Lowden rose to his feet and leaned well over the table, bringing his face closer to Koscuisko’s. He could smell the alcohol on Koscuisko’s breath. If the joke came off it would be worth enduring the stink of wodac, for the leverage it would give him with Koscuisko ever after. “Is it something I can help with? Perhaps?”

Had this been the key to managing Koscuisko all along, and him in ignorance for all of these years?

Koscuisko just stared.

Then Koscuisko started to laugh.

“Holy Saints, Saints and sinners. Holy Mother. Captain. I would say that I am flattered. But already I am a sinner, without adding so obvious a lie to the list of faults for which I must answer.”

Koscuisko’s reaction was too pure and immediate to be feigned. But that didn’t mean Captain Lowden had to let go of the joke. In fact it only made the joke better. Lowden moved around the table to insinuate himself between it and Koscuisko, who pushed his chair back, frowning. The chair-legs snagged on a fold in the too-worn carpet. Koscuisko couldn’t push it back any further than it was.

“Andrej. After all these years. Why didn’t you just tell me? There was no need for you to have suffered. Come to bed. You can tell me all about your gardener, in the morning.”

“Suppose I tell you all about the gardener now.”

No reaction to the invitation. That was rude. He could make Koscuisko regret having rejected him. It wasn’t that he had any particular overwhelming interest. It was a matter of principle, now.

“The gardener is innocent. The Lieutenant was killed by a sharp-edged object thrown with more force than most hominids can muster. It takes a crozer-hinge. And Hanner hasn’t got one. I checked, Captain.”

The more obvious it was that Koscuisko didn’t want to play the more Lowden was enjoying pretending he believed Koscuisko did. “Well. If you say so, Andrej. It’s all right. You can have another. You look tired, Andrej, you’re half-dressed. Why don’t you just get out of these dirty clothes — ”

Koscuisko’s clothing was soiled, now that Lowden got a closer look at it. Reaching out one hand for the front of Koscuisko’s blouse Lowden began to play with one of the fastenings in the most obviously seductive manner he knew how — “and we can talk. If it’s not Hanner. Who else? What about — ”

Koscuisko simply knocked Lowden’s hand away, but with the bottle, so Lowden couldn’t be sure Koscuisko had meant to make an overt gesture or had merely been raising the bottle for a drink. Lowden was getting a little tired of Koscuisko’s studied obtuseness. Time to get Koscuisko’s attention. And one thing never failed.

“ — what about Robert St. Clare?”

Koscuisko stopped his drinking in mid — draw, and lowered the bottle slowly. Lowden couldn’t decide whether Koscuisko looked more startled than sick. Afraid, perhaps; now to press his advantage. Lowden reached out for the open front of Koscuisko’s blouse once more, hooking two fingers between the under-blouse and skin this time. Koscuisko stood up.

“What difference does it make? It could have been my Robert, I suppose.”

This surpassed all expectation. Koscuisko’s stubborn resistance to suggestion was shading fast into out-and-out insubordination. Providing sexual services was not among the duties of any ordinary Ship’s Prime, true enough. But Koscuisko had a weak spot. And that weak spot was his Bonds.

“A very great difference to St. Clare, I think, Andrej. There’s a death owing. I wouldn’t have thought you wanted it to be St. Clare’s.” He kept his grip on Koscuisko’s under-blouse. Lowden could be as stubborn as Koscuisko when it came to that. Koscuisko seemed to have forgotten that Lowden had a hold on him: in more than one way.

“Quite right,” Koscuisko agreed. Too readily. “I should very much regret having to kill Robert, though it may come to that. If he has done murder, and there is no other way around it.”

Crazy.

That was it.

Koscuisko had gone out of his mind.

There could be no other explanation for the matter-of-fact way in which Koscuisko seemed to have swallowed the suggestion that had kept him to heel all of these years. Captain Lowden wondered where the emergency call was, in this part of the suite. Under the table?

“If he has done murder? Tenth Level,” Captain Lowden reminded Koscuisko. Thinking fast. “Command Termination. Are you sure about the gardener? It’s a very unpleasant way to die.”

Koscuisko stared again, stupidly. At least he wasn’t violent, just a bore. “Nothing like that, Captain, for either of you. If Robert has to die I will kill him. But that isn’t what I came about.”

What had Koscuisko come about?

Koscuisko hit him so suddenly that Lowden almost didn’t even see it coming, a swift powerful punch to the middle of his torso just beneath his ribcage. The breath went out of Lowden in a huge violent exhalation, propelled by the force behind Koscuisko’s fist. Lowden fell back across the table, gasping impotently for breath. Not finding any.

“I came to deal with you.”

Koscuisko moved on him, leaning over Lowden where he lay with his head and shoulders on the table. It was a very awkward position. But Lowden couldn’t move. He recognized the experience of paralysis from report: but this had never happened to him before, ever in his life. Nobody had ever hit him in the stomach. He couldn’t catch his breath. His chest wouldn’t move to draw breath.

“I am as much at fault as you, Captain, I grant you that freely. I should have known from the beginning that a man could not shield one at such expense to another. And yet I have a duty to protect them; they are my people, they belong to me. It is a solution so obvious now that I have finally realized, and after so long.”

Koscuisko put his hands around Lowden’s throat, wrapped his hands around Lowden’s neck as Lowden struggled for air. Thumbs overlapping. Pressing to either side of the trachea. Panic combined with paralysis now; Koscuisko was trying to kill him. Koscuisko had lost his senses. If he couldn’t throw Koscuisko off Koscuisko was going to do him serious injury.

He had to throw Koscuisko off.

He couldn’t move.

“You have helped me clarify my choices, Captain.” Koscuisko was leaning very close to him. The pressure from Koscuisko’s grip was increasing steadily, and through the rushing sound in Lowden’s ears that threatened to drown out Koscuisko’s voice Lowden could hear whispers and promises. Cries, and gleeful laughter; they were waiting for him. But who were they?

“It is either murder them or murder you. And there are fewer of you. And you deserve to die, Captain, perhaps as much as I do, perhaps — more.”

The room had gone black; Koscuisko’s face disappearing behind a firestorm of ebon sparks. Captain Lowden struggled frantically to flee from the spirits he sensed gathering around him, but though he could finally move his arms and his legs he could get nowhere with them. Flailing wildly at the table, Captain Lowden fought to take a breath.

“And I’ll not whore for you or anybody else. Again. Ever.”

Koscuisko said something; but Lowden couldn’t tell what it was.

Hands reached out of the dark and seized him, hands like claws. Spirits and shadows, they tore him from his body. He could look down from above the table, down on Koscuisko’s bent head, and see his own face discolored crimson and white, his eyes staring up at himself as he floated in the air above his body. He reached out for his body, if he could touch his body he could get back to his body, and if he could only get back to his body he would not die. He couldn’t die, not here, not now, not with the room full of harpies bent on revenge. He reached out, but he could not touch. His hand would not reach to his body. He could not make contact.

Then the spirits bound him with chains and drove him on before him with whips and blows.

His body stilled where it lay, and moved no more.

###

Well.

Andrej loosened his grip, finally, surprised at how much hatred he had had for Captain Lowden, surprised at how hard he had had to grip to kill him. Of course Lowden was vermin. And vermin were resilient by nature.

It wasn’t any good just killing an insect; one had to make sure it stayed dead. If you put evil into the earth it bred more evil and rose up again, stronger than before — like twining-weed. That was one of the holy Mother’s mysteries. Putting evil into the earth was sacrilege, and would be punished.

Only after it was purified in flame could evil be truly laid to rest and confidently expected to stay there.