Morgan's Return (3 page)

A chrono on the wall displayed a departure time: ten minutes. Morgan showed Ravindra how to use the data stick to buy tickets at a machine, then they joined the queue shuffling onto the waiting transport. Ravindra and Prasad slid into a window seat each, and Morgan settled next to Ravindra.

***

R
avindra didn't know where to look. They were all so different. The woman passing down the aisle had pale skin and straw-colored hair. And the fellow behind her had reddish hair and a face full of… what? It wouldn't be disease, would it? Ravindra placed a hand on Morgan's where it lay on the armrest. "The man passing now. Is he ill?"

She glanced around to look, then turned back to him, her lips twitching as she hid the grin. "They're freckles. You often see that with people with red hair. He's fine."

"I can't get over it. So many different colors, and even a few that look like us," he said as more people passed.

She grinned. "What did you expect? You saw the images from
Curlew
."

True, he had. But images weren't the same as the real thing. "I suppose I hadn't expected so much diversity."

"On some planets there's not a lot. I suppose it depends on their racial origins and how much they mix with people with different characteristics."

Most of the seats in the craft were filled. The doors closed, the harnesses came out of the seat back and locked over his shoulders. The ship jolted as it released from the station, then slid out of its holding bay into space. He loved space, the star-speckled, velvet blackness scattered with occasional jewels like this planet. Their destination, Neo, Iniciara's capital city, was situated on a peninsula jutting into the smallest of the planet's oceans. The descent slowed as the ship skimmed the atmosphere, sliding smoothly into the gravity well, where it deployed its wings. The aircraft banked, circling around for its landing approach, flying around the tops of buildings that towered high into the atmosphere, surrounded by a sea of swirling cloud.

What would it have been like three thousand years ago, before the Cyber Wars? Artemis, the massive spaceship controlled by one of the fabled artificial intelligences, had been built here. The footage of events Artemis's AI had shown him and Morgan had been sketchy. By that time Artemis the ship was up here in space, further out even, beyond the planet's nearest moon. Her creator, a man she'd called Doctor Rosmenyo, told the AI to leave as a mob attacked his laboratory. The building would be gone, of course. Mobs became a single, wild animal intent on destruction. What they didn't destroy couldn't have lasted three thousand years.

The shuttle swept lower, shuddering with the dull rumble of the reverse thrusters. Ravindra glanced at Morgan. She seemed tense, but then he probably was, too. Outside the cloud thickened, the outlines of buildings becoming increasingly ghostly in the haze. One more burst of power, and then the ship settled onto its landing pads. They waited in their seats while most of the other passengers struggled to stand, wedged in the narrow aisles with bags and jackets. At last, Morgan slipped out behind Prasad, and he followed, out of the aircraft and into an arrivals hall.

The tension in the place was palpable, a cloying, invisible blanket. People spoke in subdued voices, few laughed or even smiled. Armed guards cradling weapons stood near the exits, loitered around the walls, watched the stream of people heading for baggage collection or the exits. This was not a happy planet.

Morgan hesitated, craning her head.

"That way," Prasad said. "We want the western suburbs for the jewelry sector."

She grinned at him. "You've done your homework."

Prasad was already walking toward one of the doors. "Of course. It's my job."

Ravindra wrinkled his nose. The closer they were to the external doors, the more the air stank, an olfactory kaleidoscope of rot, mold, body odor and who knew what else? Prasad clearly thought so, too, his nostrils were twitching. Each time the doors slid open, another waft of the outside blasted in. Even Morgan had curled a lip. Never mind. They wouldn't be on this world long. At least, Ravindra hoped not.

Outside, the people dispersed, catching transport or walking off along grimy pavements to merge with the throng. Ravindra gazed through the murk at rows of rectangular buildings rising along both sides of the streets. He couldn't see far. A block away, the buildings faded into shadowy shapes in the smog. Somebody jostled him and muttered what he assumed was an obscenity. The fellow disappeared into the crowd.

Morgan pulled Ravindra toward a line of vehicles standing along the curb.

"These are autocabs," she said. "You get them in most Coalition cities. They're not cheap, but I don't want to wade through this dump."

She pushed Ravindra's ID stick into a unit in the door, causing the top to slide back. When they were seated, Morgan asked Prasad to set the destination on the vehicle's city display. As soon as he'd touched the screen and confirmed, the top slid back into place. Ravindra took a lungful of clean, recycled air as the machine drove into the sparse traffic before rising above the pavement.

"Is it always like this?" Prasad asked, his gaze on the grimy facades.

"I haven't been here before, and I'll tell you for free I won't be coming again if I can help it," Morgan said. "This city is a basket case. I'd make a pretty good guess their effluent disposal units aren't coping."

Prasad cocked an eyebrow. "Neither are their pavements."

The autocab landed in a road as canyon-like and filthy as where they'd come from, and it took off again when they had alighted in front of a windowless office building, identical to those on the rest of the street.

Prasad checked his
sanvad
. "This is the right address. This Forbes character has good reviews. Let's see how we go." He pressed a button next to the closed door.

"Can I help you?" a voice said.

"Forbes Jewelers?"

The door slid aside.

The interior of the building turned out to be much cleaner than the outside. A guard sitting behind a desk rose to his feet when they entered, his hand hovering over the butt of the weapon at his hip.

Eyes narrowing, he ran his gaze over them. "Do you have any weapons?"

"No."

He did something with his hands behind the desk and jerked his head to the left. "Through there."

Ravindra strode through the open door into a spacious, carpeted office. A short, wiry woman with a young body and old, shrewd eyes stood behind a desk that took up half the space.

She smiled, showing gleaming white teeth, while she evaluated them. "I'm Forbes. What can I do for you?"

Prasad pulled a sack from his jacket, and poured three uncut gems onto his palm, jiggling them to make sure the light caught the fire in their hearts. "We have gems for sale. Would you care to offer us a price?"

The woman was good at hiding her emotions, but Ravindra had noted the dilation of her pupils. She was impressed, and so she should be. An expert had chosen the best quality gems for this trip.

"Come and sit down." Forbes waved a hand at visitors' chairs in front of her desk and sat down, elbows on the table, fingers interlaced. Her mass of curly, blonde hair hung around her shoulders, framing a face which had once been beautiful, and now looked well-tended.

Prasad put the gems on the desk.

The jeweler gazed at the stones for a long moment, then glanced up. "Why do you need to sell these?"

"We don't
need
to sell these," Prasad said. "But we see some advantages in obtaining further reserves of your currency."

"Let me see."

Forbes examined each with a jeweler's eye piece, then took a device out of a desk draw. She placed each gem, one at a time, on a tray, and read off the results. "Yes, they're good." She named a price.

Prasad's eyebrows shot up. "You're joking, aren't you? I checked the market prices on the exchange for gems of this quality. That's half what they're worth."

The jeweler waved a hand. "I'd be taking a risk. You're Solvarian, aren't you?"

"No, madam," Ravindra said. "We're from Coromandel."

"Oh." Frowning she gazed down at the gems again. "Even so…"

For the first time, Morgan moved, leaning forward, her hands on her knees. "Why do you think we're Solvarian?"

"Not you," Forbes waved a hand in dismissal. "But you two gentlemen don't have an implant. Neither do the Solvarians. And your clothes…" She waved her hand again. "You look foreign."

"What if we were Solvarian?" Morgan demanded.

"Well… it becomes difficult. Not the gems, you understand. You. I expect you'd be illegal immigrants, yes? Oh, don't misconstrue. I appreciate your circumstances. I'd be doing what I could to get off that planet, too. Especially if you can afford it, which you clearly can." Forbes glanced between them, assessing, waiting.

"Like he said, we're from Coromandel," Morgan said.

"Can you prove it?" Forbes's gaze rested on Ravindra, a hint of a smile tugging at her cheek. "Because I might be able to assist you." Her voice trailed off, hinting at a question. Ravindra filled in the end of the sentence; 'might be able to assist you if you are Solvarian'.

Morgan snorted. "Oh, for fuck's sake. We don't need any other services you might be offering." She started to stand.

Ravindra pulled her back down, despite the glower.
Ah, my love, you'll never make a negotiator.
"What does she need as proof?" he asked Morgan in Manesai.

"Let her check your ID stick," Morgan said. "She can only see the public data."

"Check for yourself," Ravindra said, handing over the stick.

Forbes ran a scanner over the device. Ravindra thought she seemed disappointed. Perhaps aiding illegal immigrants was a lucrative side activity. "Would you like to reconsider your offer for the gems, madam? We can take our business elsewhere."

In the end they accepted a little less than the market price, paid electronically into Ravindra's account. Morgan gave him a tiny half-wink, the agreed signal that the transaction had been made.

"Do you have any plans for the remainder of your time here?" Forbes fluttered her eyelashes.

Ravindra could swear she was flirting. If she was, she was wasting her time.

"I'm interested in relics from the Cyber Wars," Prasad interjected. "Is there anywhere in the city with a collection? Artifacts? Books?"

Forbes pursed her lips. "There's not much. If my memory serves me from my school days, very little survived the Conflagration. But there is a museum at the university. I think it's open to the public." She checked on her screen. "Yes, it is. Free admission, too. I'd take a cab if I were you. You'll have to pass through an unsavory part of town."

Ravindra stood. "Thank you, madam. We'll take your advice."

She beamed. Was that a wink? "My pleasure. Do come again if there's anything else I can help you with." Forbes twirled her fingers through a lock of blonde hair trailing on her shoulder.

Ravindra almost shuddered. Even if Morgan hadn't been with him, Forbes would not be a temptation.

Outside on the street, Morgan grinned at him, her eyes twinkling. "I think she fancies you."

Prasad tried unsuccessfully to swallow a snort.

Ravindra raised an eyebrow at her. "She's not my type."

She chuckled. "I'd say she's old enough to be your mother."

Ravindra put his arm around her. "A touch of jealousy, my love?"

She shrugged him away. "There's a rank of autocabs further down the block."

They entered the first one, and she selected the destination.

The taxi rose into the turgid sky, following the street away from the relatively clean business district. The colored displays of what looked like a shopping area caught Ravindra's eye before the vehicle landed in a crowded, littered street. The building didn't look any different from its neighbors, a gray tower of moldering stone. Steps led to a short, arched tunnel, ending in a closed, heavy door.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Ravindra asked, climbing out of the vehicle onto the pavement.

Morgan raised a shoulder. "The sign reads 'Radthorpe University'." She gestured at the words etched into the stone arch above the tunnel. Time had eaten away the edges of the letters, making them hard to read.

"Well, come on, Prasad," Ravindra said as the cab flew away. "You're the amateur historian. Show us your skills."

Grinning, Prasad stepped toward the building. A man sitting in a guardhouse in the arch rose, his hand hooked into his belt next to the butt of a hand gun. "Greetings."

"You have a museum for the Cyber Wars?" Prasad asked.

"Yes." The guard looked them over, appeared to decide they were no threat and relaxed a little. Opening the door, he pointed a finger. "That way down the passage and turn left. I'll let the curator know you're coming."

The door creaked shut, like a scene in some absurd horror vid. Dim lights illuminated a passage smelling of decay. Dark patches of mold bloomed on walls that bulged slightly. This university had seen better days.