Migration (51 page)

“That one I can guess.” Nik’s smile was crooked. “Unlike the rest of us,” he lifted his mug and used it to indicate the varied species working around them, “the N’not’k are obligate pacifists. To travel their space, incoming ships have to disarm—even Sinzi. So if there’s one species in the IU who wouldn’t destroy a Dhryn ship on sight, who couldn’t, it’s the N’not’k.”

Implying the Progenitor, this one at least, knows a great deal about the IU.
Aloud, Mac settled for an acknowledging: “Oh.”

“Leading us back to other whys. Why him? Why you?”

“What ‘truth?’ ” Mac got to her feet, and Nik followed suit, looking his question. “I should go back upstairs while I can,” she answered.

“Don’t worry. Anchen will keep her word.” Mac’s turn to raise her eyebrow. Nik smiled and motioned her to sit. “Circular combinations, remember?”

“I admit, that was slick,” Mac commented.
Truth, Em? She wasn’t ready to leave.
Parymn, the bench, or him.

Nik mimed a small bow as they both sat again. “Part of the job, Dr. Connor.”

As if sitting was a signal, the attendant hurried to refill their coffees. Mac protected hers, studying Nik. When the attendant moved away, she asked: “Is this a good time to add to my dossier on you?”

“It’s never a good time.”

Which wasn’t outright refusal.
“Oversight and ‘Stefan. ’ What’s their story?”

“That?” Nik took off his suit coat and laid it on the bench, easing back on the seat as though preparing to rest awhile. “Nothing for you to bristle about.”

“I never bristle,” Mac protested. He raised an eyebrow.
Fine
. “Okay. Much. So explain.”

“Regular procedure, Mac. We had to do background checks on Norcoast—and you, Dr. Connor—before the IU would allow Brymn to visit. First Dhryn on Earth, unlikely mission, that sort of thing. The Sinzi-ra, as you may have noticed, believes in anticipation.” At Mac’s nod, he went on: “Some at the Ministry are content to go through channels in order to—”

“Snoop,” she finished when he paused for a word.

“Precisely. I prefer to make contact, engage in conversation, ask a few casual questions of acquaintances. That sort of thing. But in your case, I ran into a small problem.”

“Base,” Mac grinned. “Not the easiest place to drop in and visit.”

“Not without gaining your immediate attention.” He made it a compliment.

“But—Oversight?” Mac made a face. “He’s the most meticulous, stubborn, paranoid . . . to start with, I can’t see him letting a stranger waltz into his office.”
Though the thought of Mr. Spy stuck with the aloe for a few hours had a certain justice, Em.

Nik stretched like a cat. “My dear Dr. Connor,” he said in his “Stefan” accent. “A member of the Wilderness Trust Awards Committee is always, always welcome, especially when what that member really wants is to hear the down and dirty about that scandalous salmon researcher Mackenzie Connor and her appalling treatment of the Castle Inlet Trust. Over supper at his favorite restaurant, of course.”

Meaning Mudge gossiped about her over beer and pierogies.
“You are a sneaky and dangerous individual, completely without conscience,” Mac told him. “I’ll have to warn Oversight about you—or ‘Stefan.’ ”

“Want to know what he said about you?”

“Spare me.”

“You sure?” His eyes glittered behind their lenses. “There were juicy bits.”

“I’m quite sure. What I want to know is how you explained being here—that had to be a shock.”

A smug look. “Not really. Mudge is well aware of ongoing talks between the awards committee and the consulate regarding the allocation of a substantial portion of its leased and unused coastline to the Te Wāhipounamu Wilderness Trust lands. He’s been writing in support of it for years. When he saw me, I didn’t have to say a thing—he immediately assumed I was working on that negotiation. Wished me luck, in fact. It’s always best,” Nik grinned, “to let others make the lie for you.”

Which left only one question,
Mac thought, loath to ask it and risk ending his honesty, see the return of the spy. As she hesitated, his eyes narrowed.
Damn, he was observant.
“Oversight should have gone home,” she said, resigning herself to whatever happened. “Why did you help him stay?”

“Why?” Nik reached out to gently touch the side of her head, below the swathe of bandage. “He was there. When I wasn’t.” Suddenly, there was nothing gentle in his look; nothing calm in the lines around his mouth.

Just like that, even here in this busy room, he could make her believe no one else existed, scatter her thoughts into this strangely urgent confusion, a confusion that wanted to spread elsewhere.

The man had the
worst
timing, Em.

For some reason, the notion made Mac duck her head and smile. “Fourteen did warn me about external genitalia,” she said lightly, looking up. “Guess I should have paid attention.”

The hazel eyes were still dark, the lips pressed together. Mac wanted to say other things: how she’d spent half that night glad he was safe; how she’d spent the other half equally convinced he’d changed his mind and come back, that she’d find him in the morning, lying within reach of her steps, his head shattered among last year’s pine needles.

“He must have been desperate—or insane,” Nik said grimly. “I know the species, Mac. It never occurred to me any Trisulian would risk their symbiont. It would be like you or I ripping off an arm to use as a club. Worse.” He collected himself. “I didn’t get the tracking report until morning. Kay was picked up by a lev and taken to the Baffin spaceport. A Trisulian courier ship with diplomatic clearance was sitting at a way station—another stood ready to enter the Naralax immediately, which it did after receiving his transmission.” Nik nodded, more to himself than her. “With what he’s delivered to his government, our Kay will get his moment of glory. Mind you, he’ll also be arrested for deviance.”

Nik continued, saying again: “I didn’t realize Kay would go to such extremes just for a head start with the Ro message. I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“If I’d realized what that furry excuse for a gonad could do,” vowed Mac, “I’d have taken the cast iron skillet with me down to the lake.”

“No, thanks.” Nik’s lips curved into something easier. “Hard enough to explain a paddle to the Trisulian ambassador. I’d rather not involve cooking utensils.”

“I see your point.” Mac smiled at him. “It worked out well,” she offered. “Oversight seems willing to stay. He’ll be—” she almost said ‘a comfort’ and stopped herself in time, “—useful.”

“Useful.” That dimple beside Nik’s mouth.

This time, Mac let herself bristle. “We’re not friends,” she insisted, wondering who she was trying to convince. “He’s—annoying.”

“As long as he’s useful. And stays quick with a paddle.” This last wasn’t amused. “You’re the only one who can talk to Parymn. That puts you at risk.”

“Oh, no,” Mac objected, sitting back and cradling her coffee. “I’m not going to start looking over my shoulder, here of all places. This is an academic conference. A secret academic conference. With—” she freed one hand to wave wildly at the atrium, “—this! Our guys in black. You!”

She regretted the last when Nik’s face darkened with shame. “Me. Where was I when you were attacked in your own cabin? When an earthquake almost drowned you?”

“We’ll concede the weasel,” Mac quipped, trying to ease the moment. “But you couldn’t have predicted the earthquake. Right?”

“No.” His lenses caught the light, hiding his eyes. “They gave us no warning.”

“They? You found out who caused it?” she breathed, leaning forward. “Wait. If it wasn’t the Ministry . . .” Mac narrowed her eyes. “I knew it. The damn R—”

Nik’s finger was across her lips before the word could come out. “Not here,” he said very quietly. His fingertip stroked her lower lip before leaving it, as if he used the intimacy to add weight to the warning.

Mac shivered. Maybe someone here, a level above, on one of the hovering platforms, behind a wall, was close to penetrating the Ro’s stealth technology, would make it possible to detect the thinning of reality when the aliens used no-space to defeat the senses and devices of other species, make it possible to yank them into real space. Surely the IU would be fools not to work on at least a defensive weapon.
Surely the Sinzi-ra was not a fool
.

Unfortunately, Mac was equally sure they’d see the Ro only when the Ro wanted them to, and not before.

She thought of the ruined hillside and coast, the lives lost, and began to shake with rage as much as fear.
Couldn’t you have picked—safer—allies, Em?

“Mac.”

Nik’s voice drew her back into herself and this room, made her remember the mug in her hands, the bench beneath her. “How can we work with them?” Mac demanded, keeping her voice to a harsh whisper. “If they’d do this? If they’d do what they did before? How can we dare?”

If she’d wanted reassurance, there was none in his grim face. “I’m no happier than you are,” he said, again very quietly. “But it was an impressive demonstration of power—listen, Mac—” when she would have objected to that description, probably loudly. “I’m just letting you know that’s the way the earthquake damage’s being seen—by Human eyes as well as others.” He paused, as if waiting for her comment.

There were no words, Em,
Mac thought with disgust, waving him to continue.

Nik pressed his lips together, then went on. “With no success against the Dhryn, the strain is showing on the IU itself,” he told her. “The Sinzi have their fingers full. A coalition of newer species has petitioned to have their transects cut off from the rest. Then there’s nonsense like the Trisulians taking advantage of utter misery.” His voice deepened. “It’s going to get worse. More transect connections are being made all the time, Mac, at every edge of the IU. That can’t be stopped without threatening the entire system, even though it adds new, unknowing systems to the reach of the Dhryn. The Sinzi—we all need the hope of a strong ally, Mac, even a ruthless one, to hold everyone together.” A curt nod drew Mac’s attention to the telematics center, with its knot of researchers huddled around. “Unfortunately, it’s a hope waiting on a miracle. Transmit a signal into no-space?” His lips twisted as if over a bad taste. “No one’s convinced it can be done. I’m told the Myrokynay’s instructions, if not interpreted correctly, are as likely to ruin the entire communications array as retune it.”

Mac jerked her thumb toward Parymn’s cell. “If you want the Ro that badly, put him on the roof.”

“It’s been proposed,” Nik said matter-of-factly. “So has putting him in a suit and dragging him through transects like a worm on a hook. Both risk the most potentially valuable resource we’ve got at the moment. Some of us have prevailed otherwise—for now.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I take it ‘us’ includes you, Anchen, Elbows, and Mr. Obnoxious in the Brown Suit. Bernd Hollans,” she added.

Nik leaned back and hooked both hands around one knee. “Oh, I knew you two would hit it off.”

“With sparks,” Mac confessed, half apologizing. “But he wasn’t hearing me.”

“He’s everything you think he is, Mac, but cut him some slack.” Nik half shrugged. “Hollans’ job is to provide humanity’s help to the IU, while making sure nothing puts Earth and humanity in special danger. Thankless from all sides. Having the Dhryn brought to this consulate was over his protest. He wanted you taken from Sol System instead.”

Mac said quietly: “I would have gone.”

“I know.” His eyes glowed with warmth. “But the Sinzi-ra wasn’t budging. Neither was ‘Elbows,’ better known as Dr. Genny P’tool, the N’not’k. Genny is—” Nik hesitated.

“Is what?” Mac prompted.

“Her people enjoy a special closeness to the Sinzi.

Genny herself is not only of high rank within her government, but has been mentor to Hone for many years, one of Anchen’s selves. She’s considered one of the IU’s leading no-space theorists. And . . . there is one other thing you should know, Mac. Since it might come up.” Nik let go of his knee, sitting straighter. “It’s a little personal.”

“Personal?” Mac grinned at him. “Let me guess. This important, brainy alien has a crush on you.”

He actually blushed.

She’d been kidding.
“Oh. Well. Any chance of you two . . . ?” Mac waggled her fingers suggestively.

That earned her one of those warm and dangerous looks.

“Guess not.” Mac tilted her head at him.
Fun was fun, but . . .
“I can’t argue with her taste,” she admitted, smiling.

“What about taste?” Cinder asked, wandering into their oasis at exactly the wrong moment.

Or exactly right one, Em.
They weren’t alone. They had vital tasks to perform. Mac told herself the sensible things, sure Nik was doing the same.

It would help,
she thought wryly,
if he’d stop looking at her like that
.

Cinder sat on the opposite bench, eyestalks forward with obvious interest. “Lunch? Or something else?”

Mac turned and forced a bright smile. “Nik was about to tell me how you two came to be partners,” she improvised.

“Now there’s a story worth telling.” The Trisulian waved away the staff who’d hurried up, pot in hand. “Where shall I begin?”

“Don’t,” Nik said flatly.

“Nik . . .” Mac stopped. He’d tensed, from the fingers around his knee to the muscle jumping along his jaw.
New topic,
she decided, filing the first for another time. “What about Trisulian males?”

Nik’s tension disappeared in a burst of surprised laughter. Cinder, on the other hand, began combing her front hair furiously, apparently struggling for composure.

Oh, dear
. “I take it that was inappropriate,” Mac concluded, looking from one to the other. “Sorry.”