Inquisitor (12 page)

[Oh, of course. The ship’s mess is fairly rudimentary but serviceable. I’ll bring up a map.]

A schematic of the ship’s interior appeared on one of the screens. Angel peered at it, orienting herself. She rubbed her eyes and, with a deep sigh, struggled from the comfortable seat. Legs like lead and jelly, she stumbled out of the bridge toward the mess, one hand on the wall for support.

[I’ll have the ship fix you a nutritious meal. You’ll need it.]

Angel’s stomach rebelled at the thought, but Charlotte was right; she needed to recover her strength. “You can do that? Communicate with the ship, I mean.”

[Some basic instructions. I’m almost blind, still.]

Angel could sense the frustration in her tone.

[That’s your first job: to plug me into the ship’s systems.]

“No, my first job is to drink some water. Then eat. Then set a course. Which reminds me, are we being followed? And where are we?”

She entered the mess. It consisted of battered and scratched stainless steel walls and a serving area. The table and chairs were elegant, though, all faux-wood and padded seats. There were four chairs—just enough for the usual crew of such a ship.

[We’re traveling at maximum velocity away from Persephone. We should be out of the planet’s gravity well soon, so we can make a jump. The Lagrange points were too risky. I can’t tell if we’re being followed, but I don’t think anyone would be able to leave the spaceport with the lockdown.]

Angel frowned as a window opened and a tray rolled out. “Unless they crisis launch, like we did.”

[Once we jump, we’ll be safe; no one could know where we’re headed.]

A steaming bowl of soup and a plate of what looked like yellowish-green mashed potato rested on the tray. Angel sniffed and decided it was reconstituted eggs. Another window opened, and she smiled as a large mug of coffee and a jug of water came out.

Taking both trays, she settled into a chair and mechanically spooned in the egg mash, hardly tasting it. She sipped at the hot soup and her coffee. Before she knew it, both plate and bowl were empty, and so was her mug. She filled it with water and gulped down two mugfuls before slowing.

Angel coughed and cleared her throat. She felt better. A little.

“How long was I out?”

[Oh, twenty minutes or so. I thought it best to let you rest.]

Angel stood. There had to be a shower somewhere. She wasn’t in the mood for talking, and thankfully Charlotte let her be. Once she’d found the crew’s living quarters and allowed herself a few quiet moments soaking under piping hot blasts of water, she felt more or less human. The ship gave her clothes a vibration and clean while she was washing, and she emerged from the steam and dressed. She let her hair dangle down her back, still damp. The arid, stale air of the ship would dry it in no time.

She made her way back to the bridge and stared at the pink monkey in her seat for a second before shoving it to the side so she didn’t sit on the thing.

“Right, I’m back. I’ll set a course for the nearest Inquisitor outpost, on Saladin II. We should be safe there.”

[Mercurial Logic have a great many resources, Angel… and powerful friends.]

“No one is above the law.”

For once, Charlotte remained silent, and Angel shifted uncomfortably. She shuddered to imagine what Mercurial Logic had done to her to make her so cynical and wary. Angel knew there were those among the Inquisitors who were corrupt; it was fair that Charlotte imagined a scenario where she wouldn’t be safe among Angel’s colleagues.

“It’s our best option,” Angel said firmly. Except… without knowing how far the corruption went, without knowing why Harry, Jessica, and Victor were killed, she could be walking into an execution. She needed more information—actionable information. Evidence and solid reasoning. Saladin II was still their best alternative, but perhaps she’d need to call in some favors to keep herself—and Charlotte—safe. She’d probably need to call in all of them.

One thing Angel knew: she had to press Charlotte for answers. Any pieces she gathered would paint a clearer picture. And the child could be withholding something vital.

Angel ran over the ship’s diagnostics through her implants and conducted a number of checks. The ship was in a run-down but serviceable condition. A thorough overhaul was needed, and a number of systems could do with upgrades, but nothing drastic. Good. At least they wouldn’t disintegrate during a jump.

She selected Saladin II as their destination. It would be twenty minutes before the gravity of the Persephone system diminished enough to allow a jump with a decent safety margin. There was no rushing these things. Close to zero gravity was required, unless she wanted to become a purple and red smear inside the ship; and that’s if the ship itself didn’t implode.

[So… could you go down to the cargo hold and plug a few cables into my box? Please. It’ll allow me greater access to the ship.]

“Cables, eh?” Angel shrugged. It would afford her another opportunity for a look at the box.

Down in the cargo hold, the box looked even odder. What Mercurial Logic had done to Charlotte, she didn’t want to know, but whatever it was, Charlotte might be fragile and need looking after. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to gather her strength.

Angel looked at two thick cables protruding from the wall behind the box. Usually employed when the ship was being repaired, they allowed service personnel full access to the ship’s systems if they had the admission codes.

As she picked one up, a panel opened in the back of Charlotte’s box. The opening revealed two variable sockets, designed to adapt to different makes and models of cables. Angel shrugged and plugged the cable in, then did the same with the second.

“Is that it?”

Charlotte remained silent, and Angel shrugged again. She was still fuzzy and could have done with another stimulant drink. She left the box and returned to the mess, ordering another coffee and taking it back to the bridge.

She slumped into her seat. Five minutes until jump. She couldn’t tell if any of the ships in the Persephone system were following, but it looked unlikely. Anyway, in a few minutes it would be moot. Jumps were untraceable.

Darkness enveloped her as the lights on the bridge went out. Even the illuminated controls were dark. Before Angel could react, the lights came on, dim at first, then back to normal.

“Angel.”

Charlotte’s voice came through the speakers. She sounded odd, as if she were confused.

“Charlotte, are you all right?”

“Angel, I… Oh… I can see so much! I feel like I can touch the stars.”

“I take it you’ve access to the ship’s systems now. Don’t touch anything,” she warned, realizing she sounded like a mother with a young child.

“It’s… amazing! The stars, the planets, they’re so far away, yet… I can see them, almost touch them…”

Angel smiled briefly at Charlotte’s enthusiasm. The girl had been imprisoned and who knew what they’d done to her. Angel could only imagine what she was going through, but she was obviously enjoying even this taste of freedom.

“Jump in thirty seconds,” announced the ship.

Angel frowned. The time had gone by fast, and she didn’t usually lose track like that. In fact, she never did. She checked her internal clock and found she was right; the jump time she’d designated was in three minutes.

“Ship, why has the jump time changed?” While she spoke, Angel scanned the ship’s systems. Only one scheduled jump had been entered: hers, but the time had been altered. It was still inside the gravity safety margins, just. Angel’s eyes narrowed. Only one other person could have changed it. “Charlotte?”

“Jump in ten seconds.”

“Charlotte-Rose, what’s going on?” She hated the strident note in her voice.

No answer. Angel began to rise from her seat.

“I wouldn’t do that,” said Charlotte. “You need to be strapped in for the jump.”

Angel sank back down, and the seat’s restraints folded over her arms and legs. A neck support bulged out behind her head.

“What have you done?”

“I’m sorry, Angel. There’s more at stake than you know.”

Charlotte wasn’t listening and was doing what she wanted. And it finally struck Angel—the override program, the one from the photo frame—it had to be for Charlotte. Harry kept it concealed so no one would know he had it. Was this why he felt he needed the insurance? He was afraid he’d need a way to combat Charlotte?

“Charlotte,” Angel said, “don’t jump this ship, or I’ll—”

“Jump,” announced the ship.

Angel’s insides folded, and for a moment she felt like she was being turned inside out. The bridge swam in her vision, hazy and indistinct. Her wits dribbled out of her head; then before the last of them drained out, they were sucked back inside. The bridge stopped moving, solidifying into a terrible, hard reality.

“Gack,” Angel choked out. A dribble of drool leaked from her mouth, and when the restraints withdrew, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

The panel in the wall opened, and a steaming mug came out.

“Coffee?” asked Charlotte.

“No, I don’t want a coffee. Wait, yes, I do. But I want answers, too.” Angel checked the ship’s systems for their location and found her access had been restricted to basic functions. She lurched to her feet. “Where are we? You wouldn’t have changed the jump time without the location, or there wouldn’t have been a need to keep it secret from me.”

“I didn’t lie to you, Angel. I just—”

“You may as well have. I trusted you.” Angel sighed in disgust. “Just tell me where we are.”

“The Sunhao system, approaching the capital city of Wu.”

At the mention of Sunhao, memories came flooding back, joyous and bleak, exciting and desolate. For a moment, Angel was overwhelmed, and she staggered, vision fading. She clutched onto something, anything near to keep herself upright. Her chest squeezed tight, and she couldn’t breathe… couldn’t… She sucked in a lungful of air, then another. She’d made an effort to look for Mikal, to see if he was still alive and doing well, but her searches somehow managed to avoid Sunhao. They’d had some good times there. Great times, if she was honest with herself. It was where he’d always said he’d like to settle down one day—and the one place she hadn’t returned to. There was only one reason Charlotte could have brought them here.

Angel leaned forward, face hard. She wasn’t going to be pushed around like this. “He’s probably made a name for himself now. High up in one of the corporations. You won’t be able to see him. Mikal always was too smart…” she trailed off.

“But he’ll see you.”

Angel closed her eyes. “Yes. He’ll see me. But I’m not going to speak to him.”

“I’m sorry, but I had no choice.”

“There are always choices.”

“Not always.”

“No,” Angel said firmly. “I
will not
speak to him. You’re not going to treat me the same way Mercurial treated you.”

That seemed to give Charlotte pause. It was a few moments until she replied.

“Angel… no one else can do it. I’m sorry, but this was the only way.”

“The Inquisitors would know someone who can help; they’ve resources—”

“Not enough, and I couldn’t risk bringing them in, exposing myself to them.”

“You’re only a little girl.”

There was a pause. “Yes, when all’s said and done, I am. Still young, still learning, still… growing up. But I’m more than a little girl. Though you’ve probably guessed already.”

“I want information, then. What do you know about Mercurial? Why were Harry and his wife, and Viktor, killed?”

“I don’t know—”

“You know something.”

There was a pause. “All right, then,” Charlotte said. “Mercurial essentially owns Persephone. They shipped in all the original workers, built the spaceports and manufactories—all to further their research into AI. They chose somewhere out of the way and made sure they had control of the entire planet, because what they were doing was illegal.”

“Do you have any evidence?”

“A little. I couldn’t gain much access, so—”

“Give it to me,” Angel said. “All of it.”

“I… if I do, will you talk to Mikal?”

Angel nodded. For Viktor and Harry and Jessica, it was worth it. “Yes.”

“Then I agree.”

A packet squirted into Angel’s implants.

“Good,” Charlotte said. “Then that’s settled. But Mercurial aren’t the only problem: The problem is who they’re working for, and I don’t know who that is.”

The matter was far from settled, but Angel kept her mouth shut. If she hadn’t resisted, Charlotte wouldn’t have handed over the information. If Viktor had been killed by a Genevolve, that meant they were involved. But they were scattered, weren’t they? Centuries ago there had been terrible battles with the Genevolves, lasting decades. Whole cities and one planet had been destroyed. But eventually humanity had won, and the Genevolves were broken.

There wasn’t much to Charlotte’s file—expense accounts from when Persephone was settled; some figures had tags pointing to other ledgers. The whole thing was an indecipherable mess to Angel. She needed time to follow the money trail, or someone with more expertise than she had to help.

Angel didn’t reply to Charlotte, and the rest of the time the ship spent approaching Wu, she kept to herself. Flashes of her past kept surfacing, no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Charred flesh. Muzzle flashes. Blood spatter. She ruthlessly forced down any memory of the time she’d spent on the frontier so many years ago.

Charlotte’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “We’re cleared to land. News of our breakout from Persephone hasn’t reached here yet. Even if it did, we should be fine; they don’t much like the corporations out here.”

Except they liked their money. And technology.

The planet slowly expanded in the ship’s screens until it filled most of the bridge. Angel did her best to ignore it, like you ignored a toothache.

They descended to the planet in silence, the only sounds the hiss and hum of the ship. They landed with a thud followed by a clanking as the spaceport’s standard maintenance systems latched on. Only water and waste was covered by the mooring fee; anything else had to be paid for in advance.