Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [90]
‘Truth, Sammy?’ said Hob.
Samuelle nodded. ‘He figured I’d know where to find you.’ She displayed surprising patience, waiting for him to compose himself. ‘What will you do?’ she said as he palmed the tears away.
Hob shook his head and shrugged.
‘We could do with you in there, Jeremy, in case things don’t work out,’ said Samuelle.
Jeremy? The old outcast had a real name? Tekton wanted to use his moud to verify it but stopped himself, mindful of Hob’s warning.
‘You know what that might mean though, don’t you?’ Samuelle pursed her dry lips.
A burbling noise emanated from somewhere deep in Hob’s throat: indigestion of the emotional kind. He burped and cleared it. Finally, he got the words out. ‘Got nothin’ better to do I suppose, Sammy. Might get things right this time, eh?’
She nodded again, her face softening in understanding. ‘We all might get it right this time.’
Get what right? Tekton was intrigued but knew better than to enquire at this point. ‘Why do you want us to accompany you?’ he asked instead.
‘You, Tekton, are going to find Lasper’s information device and steal it.’
‘How did you know—’
But Sammy didn’t let him finish. ‘He’ll have it with him and you’re the only one who’s seen it other than that damn ferrety Lamin. The young one, Thales here, is our proof to the rest of Consilience that Farr’s been playing his own agenda.’
‘Why would you think that?’ interjected Thales.
‘Because we’ve been listening in on you two, dearie,’ Samuelle cackled.
Tekton exchanged looks with Thales. How foolish of them to think they could speak freely here.
Tekton experienced a pang of regret. Perhaps he should never have left Belle-Monde. And yet the things he had learnt...Miranda’s debilitating virus, and Ra’s Dynamic System Device. Alongside those two, his offering to Sole of beauty seemed so . . . toothless. How naive he had been. He must reconsider his own design approach as soon as he could disentangle himself from these ‘esques and their politics. The most important thing now was his safety. He must ensure it somehow. He must survive if he was still to beat his cousin Ra.
‘What if I don’t wish to go?’ Tekton asked.
‘You’ll have trouble getting away from here even without Lasper around. Intel, though, will be full of your kind. You get hold of that device and I guarantee I’ll cut you loose on Intel - Thales too, if he wants it.’
Tekton glanced at Thales again, but the young man had eyes only for Fariss.
‘How will you keep Farr from discovering my presence aboard his ship?’ Tekton asked her.
‘You leave that to me, tyro. One thing no man will do, including Lasper Farr, is invade an old woman’s privacy. There has to be some compensation for carrying around this face,’ said Samuelle with a grin.
For some inexplicable reason, the words seemed to resonate deep within him, as if someone, somewhere before had uttered the exact same thing. He shrugged the foolish and worthless notion away.
THALES
His disguise appeared adequate in the milling excitement of disembarkation: artificial skin hiding his facial scars, nondescript garb and his long hair braided tightly to make him appear almost feminine.
The closer docks teemed with ‘esques and aliens loading, or being loaded, into Lasper Farr’s flagship. Further along later-model P-class assailants were being restocked by automon conveyors and cranes.
Thales had never seen fully functional weapon ships before. They left a cold feeling in his stomach, as did the hard-eyed mercenaries who lounged nearby on the docks in small groups.
Fariss strode along in front of him, responding when she chose to to those who called out to her. Thales heard the interest and the respect in their voices. Samuelle’s main bodyguard was someone they noticed. And so, he hoped, they would not be inclined to stop and question the nervous ‘esque carrying her personal weapon case.
‘Got yerself some booty, Fariss,’ yelled a loader operator.
‘Never go nowhere without my foot-warmer,’ she shouted back.
A round of guffaws from Farr’s soldiers