Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [3]
As the words tumbled from his lips, Thales saw his hopes for the evening evaporate. Yet he could not stop himself. Anger had gripped him—righteousness felt more gratifying than any judicious reply.
Rene pushed him gently away and stood. ‘I will be in muse when you are ready to be rational. I have made many sacrifices for you, Thales. It is unkind for you to reward me with such childishness.’
Thales could not let it drop. ‘What sacrifices? How have I encumbered you?’
But she had turned away already, rebuff apparent in the frail set of her shoulders, the tremor of her thin fingers.
Contrition played him. ‘Rene, please ...’
‘Go for a walk, Thales. Young men need exercise.’
She shut the door between them quietly.
MIRA
‘Fedor? You still with us? Or are you napping again?’
Rast/Secondo’s voice vibrated through vein-fluid and disseminated into Mira/Primo’s mind. Her several days of immersion with the organic ship Insignia had robbed her of any interest in the mercenary’s needs or demands. She was enthralled by the biozoon’s unique biology, its adaptation from water to space.
Yet the speech vibrations became insistent and louder.
‘Hey! Baronessa! Answer me or I’ll come over there and rip you out of your cosy little bed!’
Mira/Primo sighed at the banality of the threat. The Primo vein could resist any attempt at forcible entry-short of res-shift error. Even then, there was a possible chance of survival, although ‘where’ Mira/Primo was not sure. The composition of the Eternix was sheer theory.
With reluctance she began the process of separation from Primo, finishing with an instruction to the vein to release her body. It disgorged her into an upright position, supporting her gently while she regained her balance.
Rast, no longer in Secondo, was already waiting for her. The mercenary lay on her side still, flicking the black scrawls of drying vein-fluid from her skin as she clenched and unclenched her muscles. A pistol bearing the Cipriano crest lay propped against her stomach.
Mira felt the last reassuring intimacy of the Primo drop away, leaving only the faint and dissatisfying distance of waved interface. She could feel and hear the biozoon but she was no longer it. ‘Where did you get that?’ Her voice rasped with suspicion and the aftereffects of immersion.
‘This is the flagship of a war fleet, Fedor.’ The mercenary waved a hand at the luxurious trimmings that disguised the fact that they were in the biozoon’s cheek. ‘Where do you think I got it?’
Mira felt a twist of indignation. Perhaps the Primo influence was upon her still. Or maybe she was more patriotic than she thought. ‘The biozoon is not a weapon ship; it is a sophisticated macro-organism.’
Rast shrugged. ‘Whatever. It still carries a weapon stash that will do me nicely, seeing as I never got paid for the whole frikked-up mess down there. Now you will take me where I want, and on the way we can negotiate how you might get out of this with your skin on.’
The memory of their situation flooded through Mira’s mind. The invasion of Araldis, Faja’s death, Trin Pellegrini and . . . She closed her mind to the last thought and studied Rast.
The mercenary’s face was pale, and her injuries had not been repaired by the Secondo. The veins were only matched to heal the Cipriano genotype.
She was a mess.
Mira rubbed the back of her hand and watched vein-flakes slough into the air. She imagined she looked much the same. ‘I left a child . . . my child on Araldis in the care of an unstable man while my world is being violently colonised by alien creatures. I will not take this macrorganic anywhere but to the nearest OLOSS protectorate where I will get help for Araldis. According to Insignia that will be Scolar in the Utmos system.’
Then she added softly. ‘I do not care what you