His voice and sense were heavy with significance. "Yes, sir," I said, trying to convey my understanding of his order without being too obvious about it. If the thunderheads had done anything to her, a couple of hours with her should bring it to light.
"Good," Eisenstadt nodded. "I'll let you know what happens with the governor." Nodding to Calandra and Zagorin, he turned and set off toward the gap in the buttes where the cars were parked.
I watched him go; felt Calandra's presence as she stepped to my side. "He wants the Cloud turned off," she murmured.
I nodded. "I know."
She shivered suddenly. "I hope we're not all going at this too quickly. That we aren't about to undo something that... shouldn't be undone."
I chewed at the back of my lip. "I don't think he'll do anything rash. Besides... there's still something about this that doesn't work. Why would anyone go to all the trouble of creating a ten-light-year barrier when all it does is lock in creatures who are rooted to the ground?"
Calandra shook her head. "I don't know. But I still don't like it."
I put my arm around her, felt the tension in her muscles. "I know," I said quietly. "Neither do I."
Chapter 26
It was late evening, and I was in my quarters—somehow, I thought of them as quarters now, instead of as a prison cell—when a pair of Pravilos came to take me to Eisenstadt's office. One look at his face was all I needed. "What's wrong?" I asked, stomach tightening.
In answer he waved me to a seat and swiveled his phone display around so that I could see it. Randon's race was on the screen... and he, too, looked worried. "Why don't you repeat what you just told me, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos," Eisenstadt invited sourly as I sat down.
"Benedar," Randon nodded to me from the display, his eyes briefly searching my face. "How are they treating you?"
"I'm fine, sir," I said. "What's the problem?"
His mouth twisted briefly. "I've just been in contact with Governor Rybakov," he said.
It was obvious what was coming next. "I take it she won't suspend the no-zombi law for us."
"It's worse than that," he said grimly, holding up a cyl. "I have here a copy of a petition that was filed with the governor's office two days ago. It reminds Rybakov that the duly mandated sentence of death passed against Calandra Paquin has been unlawfully suspended... and it requests that said sentence be carried out without further delay."
I stared at him. "Aikman?" I asked between stiff lips.
"Who else?" Randon growled. "What's worse, Rybakov really has no choice but to give the request proper consideration... and she tells me privately that he does have a case."
"How?" I demanded. "Calandra's been co-opted by a representative of the Patri for official purposes."
Eisenstadt cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, Benedar, my authority doesn't actually extend that far. It was only through Mr. Kelsey-Ramos's generosity that she's here on Spall at all, and he could legally call her back to the Bellwether at any time."
I stared at the display, the thudding of my heart like the distant sound of crumbling hope. My belief in Calandra's innocence—my efforts to buy her enough time for a new hearing—all of it threatened by a legal trick. But he said, Alas for you lawyers as well, because you load on people burdens that are unendurable, burdens that you yourselves do not touch with your fingertips... Clenching my teeth, I forced my mind to unfreeze. "All right," I said slowly. "But since Calandra was assigned to the Bellwether, shouldn't that mean that her sentence can only be carried out aboard the Bellwether?"
"And since the Bellwether's been temporarily grounded for security reasons," Randon finished for me, in a voice that told me they'd already thought of this, "the sentence ought to be temporarily grounded, too. It's a nice idea; the problem is that her actual assignment is to HTI Transport, not to the Bellwether. It happens that there are two other HTI freighters inbound in Solitaire system at the moment, either of which could be used to carry out her sentence."
"Except that they both have zombis of their own—" I stopped short as a horrible thought struck me.
"Of course they do," Randon said, frowning at my tone. "But since their zombis' sentences are presumably dated after Paquin's, it wouldn't be unreasonable to switch zombis between one of them and the Bellwether."
Aikman's face flashed through my mind: his face, his hate-filled and vengeful soul, his devious mind... and I suddenly knew what it was he was trying to do. "They won't be giving you anything in exchange," I said, my stomach knotting even tighter. "If the governor accepts that petition, they'll take Calandra and leave you stranded here."
"What are you talking about?" Eisenstadt demanded. "They have a zombi of their own—"
"Who will already be dead or dying when the Bellwether gets him."
They both stared at me... and slowly, the understanding came. "You mean... they'd deliberately kill one of their zombis?" Eisenstadt asked, a look of horrified astonishment on his face.
"He may even be already dead." I looked at Randon, all my instincts screaming with the need for immediate action. "Have any of the HTI board been in contact with those freighters?"
"I can probably find out." Randon's own disbelief had vanished, replaced by an angry determination. "Cute—very cute. A blazing lot of trouble and risk to go to, but I wouldn't put it past that gang of vultures."
"Especially with Aikman goading them on," I said, my voice trembling. "Sir, we may not have much time left—"
"Easy, Benedar, easy," he soothed. "They'd be stupid to jump their cue and kill any of the zombis until they had an official ruling in hand—otherwise they might wind up stuck here instead of us."
I hadn't thought of that. It helped, but not very much. "I don't think we should count on them to be that logical," I told him. "The sooner you can get word of this to the governor, the better."
"Agreed," Eisenstadt seconded, his voice grim. "And while we're at it, let's try a little legal offensive of our own. What we need to do is file a counter-petition, requesting that Rybakov grant an indefinite suspension of Paquin's sentence until the Patri can confirm her service with my team here."
"And maybe ask that Commodore Freitag assign some Pravilos to take over zombi guard duty aboard the HTI freighters," Randon agreed. "Certainly worth a shot. Unfortunately—" he looked back at me. "All that really does is block off Aikman's easiest route. His petition is still the major problem; and coming as it does practically on top of your own request for a zombi, Dr. Eisenstadt, it leaves Rybakov the obvious move of combining the two by transferring Paquin's sentence to whatever this jaunt is you want to make. Aikman couldn't have planned things better if he'd had a straight pipeline out to you."
I sent Eisenstadt a sharp look; but he shook his head. "No, it's just coincidence. Remember we didn't decide ourselves until today that we'd even be needing a zombi." Though there had been strong hints earlier on... but it was too late to worry about possible leaks now. "And there's no provision at all for using a Solitaran criminal?" I asked.
"None," Eisenstadt answered heavily. "Wouldn't really matter if there was. Breaking that strong a legal tradition would mean her own political suicide—Solitaire would demand her removal, and the Patri would pretty much have to bow to their wishes."
But as one man they howled, Away with him! Give us Barabbas! "I understand," I murmured, trying not to be bitter.