The Night's Dawn Trilogy (242 page)

“Good thing she did, Gerald, wasn’t it? She was always headstrong, and she’s a teenager. Teenagers can never look and plan
ahead; having a good time is the only thing they can think of. All she knew was that two months of her life weren’t as comfy
as the ones which went before, and she had to do some work for the first time as well. Small surprise she ran away. It was
a premature taste of adulthood that scared her off, not us being bad parents.

“You know, I perceived her before she was possessed. She’d found herself a job in Durringham, a good job. She was doing all
right for herself, better than she could ever do on Earth. Knowing Marie, she didn’t appreciate it.”

When Gerald found the nerve to glance up, he saw Loren’s expression was a twin to his own. “I didn’t tell you before. But
I was so frightened for her when she ran away.”

“I know you were. Fathers always think their daughters can’t take care of themselves.”

“You were worried, too.”

“Yes. Oh, yes. But only that fate would throw something at her she couldn’t survive. Which it has. She would have done all
right if this curse hadn’t been unleashed.”

“All right,” he said shakily. “What do we do about it? I just wanted to go to Valisk and help her.”

“That’s my idea, too, Gerald. There’s no big plan, though I do have some of the details sorted out. First thing we need to
do is get you on the
Quadin
, it’s one of the few starships still flying. Right now the Kingdom is busy selling weapons components to its allies. The
Quadin
is departing for Pinjarra asteroid in seven hours with a cargo of five-gigawatt maser cannons for their SD network.”

“Just me?” he asked in alarm. “Where are you going?”

“To Valisk, eventually. But we can’t travel together, it’s too risky.”

“I can’t go alone. Really, I can’t. I don’t know how to, not anymore. I can’t think right, not now. I want you to come with
me, Loren. Please.”

“No, Gerald. You must do this by yourself.”

“It… it’s hard. There are other things in my head.”

“We’re the only chance Marie has. Focus on that, Gerald.”

“Yes. Yes, I will.” He gave her a grave smile. “Where is Pinjarra?”

“It’s in the Toowoomba star system, which is Australian-ethnic. The Kingdom is anxious to keep them locked in to its diplomatic
strategy. Their asteroid settlements aren’t very well defended, so they’re being offered upgrades on favourable financial
terms.”

Gerald fidgeted with his fingers. “But how do I get on board? We’d never make it into the spaceport, never mind a starship.
Maybe if we just asked Ombey’s government if we can go to Valisk. They’ll know we’re telling the truth about wanting to help
Marie. And that information about zero-tau would be useful. They’d be grateful.”

“Bloody hell.” Loren regarded the pathetically hopeful smile on his face more with astonishment than contempt. He had always
been the forceful one, the go-getter. “Oh, Gerald, what have they done to you?”

“Remember.” He hung his head, probing at his temples in a vain attempt to alleviate some of the sparkling pain inside. “They
made me remember. I don’t want that. I don’t want to remember, I just want to forget it all.”

She came over and sat beside him, her arm going around his shoulder the way she used to do with her daughters when they were
younger. “Once we free Marie, all this will be over. You can think of other things again, new things.”

“Yes.” He nodded vigorously, speaking with the slow surety of the newly converted. “Yes, you’re right. That’s what Dr Dobbs
told me, too; I have to formulate relevant goals for my new circumstances, and concentrate on achieving them. I must eject
myself from the failings of the past.”

“Good philosophy.” Her eyebrows rose in bemusement. “Firstly we have to buy you passage on the
Quadin
. The captain has supplied Pou Mok with various fringe-legal fleks before, which can be used to lever him into taking you.
If you’re firm enough with him, Gerald. Are you going to manage that?”

“Yes. I can do that.” He grasped his hands together, squeezing. “I can tell him anything if it will help Marie.”

“Just don’t be too aggressive. Stay polite and calmly determined.”

“I will.”

“Fine. Now money isn’t a problem, obviously, I can give you a Jovian Bank credit disk with about half a million fuseodollars
loaded in. Pou Mok also has half a dozen blank passport fleks. Our real problem is going to be your appearance, every sensor
in the asteroid is going to be programmed for your features now. I can change the way you look, but only while I’m near you,
which is no use at all. They can detect me easily in public places, especially if I’m using my energistic ability. So we’re
going to have to give you a permanent alteration.”

“Permanent?” he asked uneasily.

“Pou Mok has a set of cosmetic adaptation packages. She used to keep changing her own face in case the asteroid police became
too familiar with it—she’s not even a natural redhead. I think I know enough to program the control processor manually. If
I don’t get too close, the packages should be able to give you a basic makeover. It ought to be enough.”

Loren took him through into one of the apartment’s bedrooms and told him to lie down. The cosmetic adaptation packages were
similar to nanonic medical packages but with warty bubbles on the outside, holding reserves of collagen ready to be implanted,
firming up new contours. Gerald felt the furry inner surface knitting to his skin, then his nerves

went dead.

•  •  •

It took a lot of effort on Gerald’s part not to shy away from the ceiling-mounted sensors in the public hall. He still wasn’t
convinced about the face which appeared each time he looked in the mirror. Ten years younger, but with puffy cheeks and drooping
laughter lines, skin a shade darker with an underlying red flush; a face which conveyed his internal worry perfectly. His
hair had been trimmed to a centimetre fuzz and coloured a light chestnut—at least there were no silver strands any more.

He walked into the Bar Vips and ordered a mineral water, asking the barman where he could find Captain McRobert.

McRobert had brought two of his crew with him, one of whom was a cosmonik with a body resembling a mannequin: jet-black with
no features at all, not even on the head; he was an impressive two hundred and ten centimetres tall.

Gerald tried to retain an impassive expression as he sat at their table, but it wasn’t easy. Their steely presence was conjuring
up memories of the squad which had captured Kings-ford Garrigan in Lalonde’s jungle. “I’m Niall Lyshol; Pou Mok sent me,”
he stuttered.

“If she hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here,” McRobert said curtly. “As it is… ” He gave the cosmonik a brief signal.

Gerald was offered a processor block.

“Take it,” McRobert instructed.

He tried, but the huge black hand wouldn’t let go.

“No static charge,” the cosmonik said. “No glitches.” The block was withdrawn.

“All right, Niall Lyshol,” McRobert said. “You’re not a possessed, so what the fuck are you?”

“Someone who wants a flight out of here.” Gerald exhaled softly, reminding himself of the relaxation exercises Dr Dobbs urged
him to employ: cycle down the body and the brain waves will follow. “As someone else who deals with Pou Mok, Captain, you
should appreciate the need to keep moving on before people start to take an interest in you.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit pressure routine on me, boy. I’m not taking anyone who’s hot, not with the way things are right
now. I don’t even know if we’re going to leave Guyana, the code two defence alert still hasn’t been lifted. Traffic control
is hardly going to clear anyone for flight while one of those bastards is running loose up here.”

“I’m not hot. Check the bulletins.”

“I have.”

“So you’ll take me when the code two is lifted?”

“You’re a complication, Lyshol. I can’t take passengers because of the quarantine, which means you’d have to be listed as
crew. You haven’t got neural nanonics, which means the line company would start asking me questions. I don’t like that.”

“I can pay.”

“Be assured: you will.”

“And you’ll have Pou Mok’s gratitude. For what it’s worth.”

“Less than she likes to think. What are you running from?”

“People. Not the authorities. There’s no official trouble.”

“One hundred thousand fuseodollars, and you spend the whole voyage in zero-tau. I’m not having you throwing up all over the
life-support capsule.”

“Agreed.”

“Too quickly. A hundred thousand is an awful lot of money.”

Gerald wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up; slow thoughts echoed in his skull, telling him that the sanatorium
had been a much kinder environment than this. If I went back, Dr Dobbs would understand, he’d make sure the police didn’t
punish me. If it wasn’t for Marie… “You can’t have it both ways. If I stay here then a lot of secrets are going to get spilt.
You probably wouldn’t be able to fly to any of the Kingdom systems again. I think that would bother the line company more
than taking on a crewman without neural nanonics; not that they’ll know I don’t have neural nanonics unless you tell them.”

“I don’t like being threatened, Lyshol.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m asking for help. I need your help. Please.”

McRobert glanced at his companions. “All right. The
Quadin
is docked at bay 901-C, we’re scheduled to depart in three hours. Like I said, I can’t guarantee that time with the code
two, but if you’re not there I’m not waiting.”

“I’m ready now.”

“No baggage? You surprise me. Very well, you can pay me when we get on board. And, Lyshol, don’t expect any crew salary.”

When the four of them came out of Bar Vips, Gerald gave what he believed to be a surreptitious glance along the public hall.
There weren’t many people about, the code two alert had hauled in all the asteroid’s off-duty military and civil service personnel.

Loren watched him go, hunched up and tragic between his three escorts. They stepped into a lift, and the door closed behind
them. She walked the other way down the public hall, a smile playing over her illusory lips.

•  •  •

After seven and a half hours with over a hundred false alerts and not one genuine sighting, Admiral Farquar was considering
running a suppressor program through his neural nanonics. He hated the artificial calm the software brought, but the tension
and depression were getting to him. The hunt for the possessed woman was being run from the Royal Navy tactical operations
centre. It wasn’t quite the operation envisaged while it was being built, but its communications were easily reconfigured
to probe the asteroid’s net, and its AI had been loaded with the tracker programs developed by Diana Tiernan to hunt possessed
across Xingu. Given the size of Guyana, and the density of electronic systems spread throughout the interior, they should
have had a result within minutes.

But the woman had eluded them. In doing so, she had forced him to admit to Princess Kirsten that if one could, so could more.
There might be any number running around Guyana. For all he knew the entire navy staff could have been possessed, which was
why the operations centre kept saying they couldn’t find her. He didn’t believe it himself (he’d visited the centre personally)
but no doubt it was an option the cabinet had to consider. Even he must be considered suspect, though they’d been tactful
enough not to say so.

As a result, Guyana had handed over Ombey’s Strategic Defence network command to a Royal Navy base in Atherstone. A complete
quarantine of the asteroid had been quietly enforced under the guise of the code two defence alert.

So far it had all been for nothing.

The office management computer datavised him that Captain Oldroyd, his staff security officer, and Dr Dobbs were requesting
an interview. He datavised an acknowledgement, and his office dissolved into the white bubble room of a sensenviron conference
room.

“Have you made any progress finding her?” Dobbs asked.

“Not yet,” Farquar admitted.

“That ties in,” the doctor said. “We’ve been running analysis scenarios based on the information we’ve collated so far; and
based on that I believe I’ve come up with a rationale for her actions. Extracting Skibbow from our medical facility was slightly
puzzling behaviour. It was an awful risk even for a possessed. If the marines had been thirty seconds faster she would never
have made it. She must have had an extremely good reason.”

“Which is?”

“I think she’s Loren Skibbow, Gerald’s wife. If for no other reason than what she said to Jansen Kovak: You should try being
married to him for twenty years. I checked our file, they were married for twenty years.”

“His wife?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, I’ve heard stranger.” The admiral faced Captain Oldroyd. “I hope you’ve got some evidence to back up this theory.”

“Yes, sir. Assuming she is who we suspect, her behavioural profile certainly fits her actions to date. First of all, we believe
she’s been in Guyana for some time, possibly right from the beginning when the
Ekwan
docked. She has obviously had enough time to learn how to move around without activating any of our tracer programs. Secondly,
if she can do that, why hasn’t she launched the kind of takeover effort we saw on Xingu? She’s held back for a reason.”

“Because it doesn’t fit in with her plans,” Dr Dobbs said eagerly. “If the whole asteroid became possessed, her peers would
be unlikely to allow Gerald his freedom. This is all personal, Admiral, it’s not part of what’s happening to Morton-ridge
or New California. She’s completely on her own. I don’t believe she’s any real danger to the Kingdom’s security at all.”

“Are you telling me we’ve shifted the Principality to a code two alert because of a
domestic
matter?” Admiral Farquar asked.

“I believe so,” Dr Dobbs said apologetically. “The possessed are people, too. We’ve had ample proof that they retain a nearly
complete range of human emotions. And, er… we did put Gerald through quite an ordeal. If what we suspect is true, it would
be quite reasonable to assume Loren would do her best to take him away from us.”