Up Against It - M. J. Locke [138]
Jane looked around, and felt disappointed. She had been … not expecting—that would be unrealistic—but at least hoping for something awe-inspiring. Something that gave her the feeling she had had in the presence of the Voice. This, this gather had its idiosyncrasies, but it was little different from any other church, temple, or synagogue she had ever been in.
One of the staff had them sit in an alcove off the main sanctuary. Learned Harbaugh entered after a short delay. He had nearly reached them when the street door melted away and a young woman burst in.
“Learned Harbaugh! I have urgent news. I have to speak to Learned Obyx—”
At the same moment the intruder saw Jane, she recognized the other. It was not a young woman; it was none other than Thondu wa Macharia na Briggs. Jane remembered the young woman-man in her dream. “Thondu” was gene-modded. A Viridian. Thondu was Vivian Waĩthĩra. A hermaphrodite, then, or other intersex person, who used Viridian tech to morph from one gender to the other at will, and change races as well.
“Relax,” Jane told the young troubadour. “Learned Obyx already knows I’m here.”
“Thondu,” or whoever he, she, or ze was, gaped at Jane in distress. Learned Harbaugh laid a hand on the youth’s shoulder and whispered something, his eyes never leaving Jane’s. The youth turned to leave, but Jane said, “My business and yours are likely the same. Why don’t we all go speak to Obyx together?”
“Obyx wants to speak to you privately, and our young friend has other duties,” Harbaugh said. He led Jane and Sarah down the hall into a small office. The office was simple: nano-grown chairs, bioart along two walls, and a fountain cascading down the third. In one chair, eyes half closed as if meditating, was Obyx.
Jane had seen images but had never met Obyx in the flesh. She had expected hir to be strange, but had not been prepared for how beautiful ze would be. She brushed palms with Obyx’s huge, frondlike hands.
Sarah said, “Thanks for taking the time to see us. This is Jane Navio.”
Obyx nodded a welcome to Jane. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Likewise.”
“Sarah”—with a gesture at her—“tells me you need my assistance. I ordinarily don’t see visitors, but I admit I was intrigued by the request.”
Jane glanced at Sarah, who stood deadpan, her arms folded. “I’m here to talk to you about the Ogilvies.”
“The Martian Ogilvies?”
Jane nodded. “Through their shipping company, Ogilvie & Sons, they’ve been trying to get a stranglehold on all shipping ports between Mars and the outer system for years. And they’re making a fresh assault on Phocaea. I believe they are responsible for the disaster in the warehouses, as well as the death of one of my people, Marty Graham.”
Obyx studied Jane. “These are serious accusations.”
“The Ogilvies have done these kinds of things elsewhere. They did it on Vesta. They have to be stopped before they wreak their havoc here, too, and I plan to stop them. But I need your help.”
“They need to be stopped?” Obyx repeated. “Why?”
Jane bit her tongue to keep from shouting. Apparently, Obyx did not intend to make this easy. “Nearly a hundred people were assassinated on Vesta, during the months after they took over there—and among them were Vesta’s former leaders. People like you and me. I was there. I barely escaped with my life. We all are in grave danger unless they are stopped.”
Obyx only smiled at that, but Jane continued. “Their ships are on the way now. Do you really want to sit by while they overrun Phocaea? Your people live here, too, and they, too, will suffer.”
Obyx laced hir many fingers together. “I appreciate your newfound concern for us Badlanders. But I doubt that the Ogilvie family poses a threat to us. When it comes to these traditional power struggles, we have a policy of live and let live. And frankly, the city and cluster officials have made it clear by their actions that they don’t perceive the same