The First One's Free (12 page)

Waiting was something Best did not do well.
He bored easily, often finding himself trying to read his palm tat
despite its uselessness. Staring at a door where only one person
had entered during the entirety of his vigil made things harder. If
he wasn’t doing something, he generally needed to be asleep or
watching a feed or engaged in conversation. The wait for Luxhomme
to come or go only underscored just how restless Best’s mind had
become in middle age.

“So much for retiring someplace warm and
quiet,” he muttered under his breath.

A man screamed inside the building while Best
pondered his options. The strange woman he had seen suddenly burst
out the front door and found herself instantly chased by a police
drone. Best ran across the street, dodging a taxidrone and two
delivery bots before running into the building. He could hear a man
moaning in pain from at least two flights up the stairway. Best
skipped the lift, taking the stairs two at a time. Following the
sound, he stopped on the third floor and spotted a door that that
lay wide open.

Inside, he found a very wounded Luxhomme
lying on his couch, bloody and curled in the fetal position. Before
Best could approach him, a deep, synthesized voice said, “Freeze.
Officers are en route.”

Best stood, put up his hands, and said, “This
man needs medical attention.”

The police drone scanned Best and said,
“Best, Douglas, Citizen of Jefivah, you are under arrest for
escaping lawful custody. An officer will take you to the nearest
police facility for processing.”

He looked down at Luxhomme, who, despite
obvious pain, smiled at him. “Well, hello, Dougie. How are things
on Marilyn?”

Best looked up at the drone. “Do I have an
assault charge listed along with the charges from Jefivah?”

“Negative,” said the drone. “All charges
against you are off-world pending extradition.”

“You might want to add assault.”

“Why do you say that, Citizen?”

“Because…”

He punched Luxhomme in the mouth.

16

The humans, naturally, frowned on aliens
assaulting their citizens on their own turf. Or, as Tishla had come
to interpret the phrase, their Citizens. She was not a Citizen. She
might have been Free, or even “free” in the language they called
Humanic, but that did not mean the same thing in the Compact as it
did in the Realm. The humans did not care if Tishla stood to
inherit dominion over two planets or Kai’s share of his family’s
wealth. They were not interested in her abilities as a geneticist
nor did they care that her species could extrapolate complex
languages in a matter of hours. Tishla had attacked a Citizen,
changing her from an unknown quantity to a direct threat to at
least one human life.

So Tishla had to go. Instead of letting the
police get rid of her, she hailed a taxidrone and hoped no one
figured out who attacked Marq until after she reached her
destination.

“Laputan Consulate. Quickly.”

The drone happily chirped its compliance and
moved into traffic.

She kept the contents of the wooden box Kai
had sent along, however. It had contained everything: His personal
dagger, the message explaining his plan to free her, and the
now-worthless deed to her person transferring her indenture to Marq
Katergarus of…

Even with all the worlds of the Compact she
now knew of, she still did not know where that strange little man
hailed from. Nor, it seemed, did the authorities on Metis. They
knew only that he was human, and all humans were presumed to be
Citizens until proven otherwise.

The tall golden woman looked down from the
reception desk at the Laputan Consulate. “May I help you?” Her
Humanic sounded rough, unpracticed. Never mind that she probably
had spent revolutions on this planet to Tishla’s one and a half
turns.

“My name is…” She thought about it. She was
Free, but dare she take Kai’s family name? The twins inside her
kicked, reminding her she still had duties to her beloved, living
or dead. “Lattus Tishla. I am a Free Woman of the Realm. I request
asylum among your people and passage to Ramcat, where I may return
home.”

The golden woman looked down at her. “A Gelt.
I never thought I’d see a Gelt on an
Idimic
world.”

Tishla permitted herself a little smile at
the Laputan word for “human.” It had to do with their creation
myth. “A human defrauded me. I exercised my rights under Gelt law.
Unfortunately, that conflicts with Compact law in such
matters.”

“Oh,” said the Laputan woman. “You’re her.
Lucky you didn’t kill him. They’d pack you off to their homeworld
and take their sweet time figuring out how to try you. Wait right
here.”

Tishla watched her disappear through a
doorway. She was a giantess by both human and Gelt standards. Then
again, she was likely average for a Laputan.

The man who emerged was also a giant.
Craggy-faced, he kept his coarse black hair tied back in a tail the
way Laputan military did, even when their service had ended. “So
you’re Lattus Kai’s concubine.”

“Former,” Tishla corrected as she noticed the
scar running down his cheek. “He sent me to the Compact, which
means my servitude has ended. However, I carry his offspring, which
makes me his heir.”

The man shook his head, looking down at the
ground. “I’ll never understand the Realm’s silly laws. And we’re a
monarchy, just like you.”

Not like us
, thought Tishla.
We
don’t see war as a reasonable means of first contact.

“I am Delda Rallis,” said the man. “Kai calls
me Rall, which means you may call me Rall.” He pointed at his scar.
“You probably noticed this. That whelp gave me this in a border
skirmish when he was still a…” His eyes did a rolling motion as he
paused. “Well, the humans call it a ‘squire,’ but I’ll be damned if
I can make heads or tails of your feudal system. Why don’t you just
sell titles like us or do away with them like the humans?” He
looked past her at the window. “Well, these humans. A few of them
pine for hereditary in-breds ruling them, but thank Unseen not
here.”

Tishla reached up and traced the scar down
Rall’s face. “So this is the wound he gave you.” She took out the
dagger, still secured in its sheath. “Then you recognize this.”

Rall’s somewhat amenable expression vanished.
“A man sends me a fine weapon like that, especially a Gelt, it
means he’s sending a message.” He picked up the dagger and admired
its sheath, ornately carved ivory from a large reptile predator
that prowled the forests of the Throneworld. He slid the dagger out
and stared at it. “And if Kai is sending this very one to me, then
he’s calling in a favor. Which means he’s worried he’s about to
die.”

Tishla started to speak, but her throat
tightened, cutting off her voice.

Rall nodded solemnly. “Then again, lovely
thing like you, he probably wanted to Free you since it’d be easier
than to have you stay willingly. Tell me, are you the real brains
behind his estate?”

That made her relax in this strange alien’s
presence. “He confides in me. I agreed to be purchased in exchange
for my honors in genetics. I help him govern his colony.” She
omitted the second world Laral and Marq promised to secure for him.
For all she knew, the people there probably fought back.

“Oh, dear Presence, he’s gotten into planet
wrangling. Bet he’s at war with one of those Warrior Caste idiots,
too.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. Let’s see if I
can find out what’s happened to him. Then we’ll see about getting
you home. I may even take you myself.”

“Don’t you have duties here?”

“What duties? Selling humans round trip
packages to Laputan space? Tell me, have you ever been to the
Guardianship outside of Ramcat’s orbital city?”

*****

The authorities came looking for her a few
hours later. Delda Rallis stalled them as his staff tried to bundle
her into a taxi to the spaceport. She could overhear what the
police were saying as they rushed her out the door.

“We cannot find Marq Katergarus,” said a
female officer, one who sounded like she could roll a few Warrior
Caste types in a fair fight. “And we know the Gelt woman came
here.”

“This consulate is sovereign territory,” said
Rallis. The door closed behind her before she heard whatever else
was said.

The taxi smelled of various human body odors,
none of which Tishla found pleasant. Already battling evening
sickness from her pregnancy, she feared she might vomit if she had
to stay in the cab too long. Rall’s assistant, whom Tishla soon
learned was called Chosay, piled in with her. “Spaceport.
Diplomatic entrance. Drive.”

Tishla noticed an intense light scanning both
her and Chosay’s faces. “Gelt detected. This passenger is a
fugitive.”

“This passenger is under protection of the
Laputan Guardianship. Now move it, or your owners will be guilty of
a felony under Compact law.”

The taxi sat there as its primitive AI turned
that little fact over in its quantum-rigged mind. Then it pulled
out into traffic.

“It can’t report you,” said Chosay. “You’re
under a diplomatic umbrella, at least until someone
intervenes.”

“Intervenes?”

“If they think you killed that man…”

“I cut him, but just enough to scare him. On
a Gelt world, he’d not only be dead, but I’d be able to present his
scalp as evidence if I were tried.” She looked around. “Do you know
what happened to Marq Katergarus?”

“We do. After you attacked him, the police
had some questions for him.”

Tishla’s blood ran cold at the mention of the
planet. “Why?”

“Have you heard of another entity called
‘Juno’?”

“No.”

Chosay looked at her strangely. “Me, either,
but apparently, they want to talk to him really badly.”

Tishla wondered what exactly it was Marq had
tricked Kai and Laral into. “Do you know anything about
‘potatoes’?”

Chosay laughed. “Yes. We fought a war with
the humans over them. Why?”

*****

For the second time in a week, Best found
himself sitting in a jail cell. This time, a pair of women from
Metisian Homeworld Security questioned him. Jail was bad enough.
The officers’ lilting accents alone set him on edge. But the voice
of one of the officers, becoming shrill when she lost her temper,
set his teeth to grinding.

“So you be slippin’ your leash,
Mister
Best? Is that what you’re sayin’? Hmm?” The dark-skinned woman
interrogating him had given her name simply as Andra. When Best
mentioned his role as Jefivah’s Minister of Agriculture, it only
served to set her off even more. “According to our information,
ye’re supposed to be in the custody of a man who answers to the
title ‘Grand Dimaj.’ Where is this Grand Dimaj? Hmm?”

“The Caliphate,” said Best, who found the
sterile white interrogation room stifling. The bright overhead
lights didn’t help, either. He suspected they contributed to
Andra’s foul mood. But not as much as they did his headache. “When
I left him, he was performing a religious rite.”
By screwing a
human sex doll who resembles his goddess,
he added
silently.

“And you don’t respect a man’s right to his
own faith? Hmm?”

“Andra,” said the other woman, who had
introduced herself as Agent Jovann. “Allow me.”

“Athena, I don’t think…”

Jovann put a hand on Andra’s shoulder. “Give
me a minute. Okay? I don’t think you’re getting anywhere badgering
Mr. Best. He’s not even our suspect.”

“He’s someone’s suspect,” she said and left
the room, slamming the door behind her.

Jovann looked severe in her tight black suit,
her gray-tinged hair kept so short as to almost be mannish. Best
could see, however, the hair had been tinted gray intentionally.
Her skin looked too smooth to have been through more than one
rejuvenation treatment, if any. Actually, he didn’t know if
Metisians even indulged in rejuve.

She sat down on the table near Best, draping
a leg over it. Had she worn a skirt, Best might have found himself
staring at the leg. But Jovann wore a black pantsuit instead. It
made Best feel like a schoolboy who’d been caught pumping cartoons
onto the desks of his classmates.

“Andra has a problem with authority.
Especially when it’s been abused.” Her accent, though similar to
Andra’s, was more monotone. Best had heard Luxhomme speak that way
sometimes, which only confirmed his suspicion that Luxhomme’s
Etruscan residency was a sham.

“I haven’t abused my authority,” said
Best.

Jovann looked down at her right palm, which
told Best she was a lefty. “Really? Says here you were suspended
after allowing seven weapons of mass destruction to disappear from
naval custody and charged with negligence. It also says you were in
the custody of a ‘Grand Dimaj,’ whatever that is, and that you
failed to present your credentials, suspended as they are, to the
governments of either The Caliphate or Metis. And the Compact Home
Office here has no record of your promised visit. You might have
shown up here legally as a Citizen, Mr. Best.”

“Why do you think I’m here, Agent Jovann?”
said Best.

Jovann fingered the nanotat on her palm.
Behind her, a square appeared on the wall that displayed a photo of
Luxhomme. “You are looking for this man, whom we know as Marcus
Leitman. That’s his birth name, or at least we think it is.”

“You don’t know? He was born here.”

Jovann smiled coldly. “He
says
he was
born here. Humanity is so fragmented that someone can be born on a
world and there be no record of it. Families leave for other
worlds. Some even leave the Compact. For all we know, he could have
lived among the Zaras in the trees, and we’d have no way of
knowing.”