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Authors: Kristine Smith

Tags: #science fiction, #novel, #space opera, #military sf, #strong female protagonist, #action, #adventure, #thriller, #far future, #aliens, #alien, #genes, #first contact, #troop, #soldier, #murder, #mystery, #genetic engineering, #hybrid, #hybridization, #medical, #medicine, #android, #war, #space, #conspiracy, #hard, #cyborg, #galactic empire, #colonization, #interplanetary, #colony

Rules of Conflict (26 page)

BOOK: Rules of Conflict
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“If you think the ambassador’s influence is going to get you off
the hook, Kilian, you’re sadly mistaken.” He hustled her and Hals past the rest
of FT and Diplo, through the entry and out into the courtyard, where the
lieutenant from Security waited by the triple-length.


General Burkett!

Everyone stopped, turned, stilled.

Nema stood in the embassy entry, surrounded by a half dozen of his
brown-clothed guards. The shortest equaled him in height. The tallest
outstripped him by a head, which made her at least two-one. All were armed.
Twin shooters. Knives.

“You are taking my Eyes and Ears away from me!” His sibilant wail
echoed off the blade-topped walls. He tucked his hands into his sleeves while
six gold faces watched every humanish move. “But you will not take her for
long?”

One word from him.
Jani watched six pairs of gold hands
hover near weapons while around her, grim-faced mainline Security patted their
empty holsters.
All they’re waiting for is one word from him.

Burkett gaped. Swallowed. Found his voice. “Bloody hell.” Service
decorum went out the window as he pushed Jani into the skimmer, then bulleted
in behind her as Hals and Derringer piled in through the other side. The driver
shot out of the courtyard and sped past the checkpoints without slowing. No one
spoke until they cleared idomeni property.

Chapter 15

Jani barely managed to undress and set her alarm before
tumbling into bed, visions of the glowering Burkett dancing in her pounding
head. She had overheard him in heated discussion with Derringer as they had
departed the embarkation zone—the phrases
Office Hours
and
nail down
our options
had cropped up with depressing frequency.

Well, if Hals had a shot at nonjudicial punishment, she might not
wind up too badly off. Besides, wasn’t there an old Service saying that a
Spacer without at least one Article 13 on his or her record was unworthy of the
name?

Makes me a Spacer for the ages.
Jani had stopped counting
after number five. She buried her face in her pillow and fell into troubled
sleep.

“—anytime now.”

Jani jerked awake at the sound of the intruding voice. Reached
out. Grabbed a handful of—

What the—?
She opened her eyes and saw herself reflected in
a glassy brown stare. She released her grip on Val the Bear’s throat and lifted
her muzzy head.

“I said, feel free to wake up anytime now.” Lucien had dragged her
desk chair into the bedroom. He appeared much too comfortable, feet propped on
the mattress’s edge, chair tipped back precariously.

“How ’n hell d’you get in here?” Jani worked her jaw, yawned,
stretched her stiff legs.

“Facilities should invest in better locks,” he said by way of
explanation. “If you get up now, you’ll have forty minutes to shower and dress
before you have to hightail it to FT.”

“I need to eat—”

“So you shall. I have breakfast set out in the sitting room.”

“It has to be scanned—”

“I came and got the scanner before I got the food. It’s all
clear.”

“Aren’t you the efficient one?”

Lucien tugged at his short-sleeve. “Why’s it so warm in here?”

“Because I like it.” Jani’s voice rang clearer that time. “How
long have you been sitting there?”

“Half hour.” He offered her the knowing sort of smile that made
her teeth clench. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

“Do tell.” Jani twisted around and sat up, catching her bedcover
just in time. She still wore panties, but her bandbra rested amid the muddle of
clothing heaped on the bedroom floor.
Make that, “had been heaped.”
Le
steward extraordinaire had taken care of her dirty laundry along with
everything else.

“You’re going to have to tell me about Piers sometime.” Lucien’s
gaze drifted from her face to points south, lingering on her bare shoulders. “I
see you don’t believe in pajamas.”

Jani yanked the sheet up to her neck. “Out.”

“I don’t either.”

“Get
out
!” She tried the melodramatic “pointed finger
thrust toward the door” move and almost dropped her coverage.

“I love it when a woman loses her . . . temper.”
Lucien did a side roll out of the chair and darted to the door. He ducked
through the opening just as Val the Bear impacted the panel at a height even
with the back of his head.

“So, tell me about your trip to the embassy.” Lucien
poured coffee for both of them, then settled back, mug in hand.

Jani crunched toast as she checked out her scanpack. “How much
have you heard?”

“Only the disobeying a direct order part.”

“How did you hear about that so soon?”

“Diplo contacted I-Com to ask if they could borrow some recording
equipment. Night Desk contacted me because I’m in charge of the storage bins.”
Lucien reached across the desk to Jani’s plate and snatched an apple slice from
her overladen fruit cup. “Woke me out of a sound sleep at oh-three up. Burkett
must have started amassing his weapons as soon as you returned to Sheridan.”

Jani dropped her half-eaten toast on her plate. “And those weapons
would be?”

“You’d better contact your lawyer first thing you get to your
office.” Lucien brushed a nonexistent spot from his immaculate shirtfront. “His
name wouldn’t happen to be Piers, would it?”

“I’m surprised you have to ask.” Jani stabbed halfheartedly at her
fruit. “Did you hear any fallout concerning Sam Duong?”

“Why would I?” Lucien finished his coffee and started piling dirty
dishes onto the take-out tray. “That sorry situation is none of my business.”

“Since when did that ever stop you?”

“It’s none of yours, either.”

“He made it my business.” Jani set down her fork. The memory of
the man’s desperation ruined what remained of her appetite. “He put me down as
next of kin in his MedRec.”

“Because you said you believed him?” Lucien made a point of
setting Jani’s fruit cup on the desk before picking up the tray. “I knew you’d
regret saying that.”

“I don’t regret a thing. I think he may have been set up.”

“And why would anyone bother to do that?” Lucien walked about the
room gathering newssheets and plucking wilted flowers from the bouquet. “He’s a
clerk.”

“He’s a clerk who’s been overseeing the compilation of Rauta
Shèràa Base and Knevçet Shèràa documents for years.” Jani felt a twinge of
satisfaction as Lucien hesitated in mid-pluck. “I think he uncovered something,
and that something’s buried in the missing documents. I think somebody stole
the paper, then hung Duong with a
crazy
tag so that he’d get blamed for
the docs being missing.”

“That’s a lot of thinking.”

“Admit it—did you ever observe a scene better calculated to
destroy a man’s reputation?”

“So he works for an asshole.” Lucien took his time folding an old
newssheet into a loose cylinder. “Make that two assholes.” He shoved the paper
tube into the ’zap. “What do you think he knows? Or doesn’t know he knows?”

Jani didn’t answer. Instead, she picked another mental spare
fitting out of the bin and checked it for size. “Did you ever hear of Niall
Pierce? He’s a colonel in Special Services.”

Lucien frowned. “The guy who almost ran into you in the SIB
lobby.”

“Does everybody know him?”

“Just by reputation.” Lucien glanced at the clock. “We better get
going.”

They spent valuable minutes arguing about the breakfast she hadn’t
eaten. By the time they departed TOQ, the walkways had cleared of
first-shifters, which meant that if Jani didn’t get a move on, she’d be late.
Not
at a time like this
. Her back issued a string of complaints as she broke
into a double-time trot.

“I saw Pierce at the hospital, too. He was standing outside the
office where I met with Friesian.” She pressed a hand to her right side as a
stitch took up residence.

Lucien loped beside her with disgusting ease. “Think he was
listening?”

“He wasn’t that functional. Takedown malaise had him by the
throat.”

“So he had a good reason to be there. Your running into him was a
coincidence.”

“We’ve got quite a few coincidences jostling for space here, don’t
we?” Jani eased to a slow jog as the Documents Control white box came into
view. “You said he had a reputation.”

Lucien hesitated. “I’ve heard things about him.”

Jani detected an edge in his voice. That meant he didn’t want to
discuss Pierce.
That
meant it was time to push. “I know he was at Rauta
Shèràa. I know he nailed a field commission after the evac, and that he’s
Mako’s man.”

Lucien shot her a “how did you know that?” look. “He and Mako are
an odd couple. Mako comes from a cultured background—he doesn’t like to admit
it, but he’s descended from a long line of Family affiliates. Pierce joined the
Service to stay out of prison.”

Jani gasped in relief as they eased to a walk—her side-stitch had
evolved into an entire wardrobe. “What was he up for?”

“Weapons-running.” Lucien tapped her on the arm to get her
attention—together they saluted a pair of sideline majors walking toward them.
“Even after he joined up, he still got into trouble. Fights. Smuggling.
Disobeying orders. All that changed after he was transferred to the Fourth
Expeditionary. Mako straightened him out. When they returned to Earth, Pierce
even went back to school, got a degree at Chicago Combined. Literature, of all
things. He doesn’t look the type.”

Jani pulled in a deep breath. Another. “So? What are you—not
telling me?”

Lucien blinked. “What makes you think—?”

“Save the coy-boy routine for someone who buys it and—spit it
out!”

Coy Boy eyed her in disapproval. “If you got out of bed at a
reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have to push yourself.”


Lucien
.”

“I found the anesthetic, glue, and bandage in your bathroom. I
trashed them and hid the scalpel.”

“I’ll get more.”

“You don’t want to escape now. You’re having too much fun sticking
your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Answer the damned question!”

“Mako saved the Service.”

“That’s old news.” Jani kept an eye out for Hals as they pulled up
in front of the Documents Center. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She walked
a figure eight. Her pounding heart slowed.

Lucien strolled to the walkway’s edge and kicked at the stone
border. “At first, it didn’t want to be saved. The Old Guard needed to retire.
Some of them didn’t want to go.”

“But Mako, with the help of loyal underlings like Pierce, helped
them make up their minds.”

“He was promoted to J-Loop Regional Command after Rauta Shèràa.
The promotion was designed to reward him officially and at the same time get
him out of the way. It didn’t work.” Lucien stepped over to Jani and leaned
close to her ear. “That’s where he started cleaning house. Not everything he
did was by the book. That’s not common knowledge.”

“It was well before your time, too. How did you find out?”

“I
am
in Intelligence.”

“And you’ve sneaked peeks at files. And Anais probably told you
things.” Jani sniffed. Lucien had used scented soap that morning. A light,
musky odor, barely detectable. “And you have this way about you that makes
people spill their guts.”

“You think so?” He moved closer and brushed against her arm. “Care
to tell me what way that is?”

“Oh, I think you know.” She stepped away and started up the Doc Control
steps, then turned back. “I wonder if Pierce had anything to do with what
happened to Sam Duong?”

Lucien shook his head. “Why would he want to bury Rauta Shèràa
documents? If anything, he’d want to get those out in the open.”

“You’d think that, except Mako was called before a Board of
Inquiry after the evac team returned to Earth. He bulled his way through it,
and emerged victorious.”

BOOK: Rules of Conflict
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