If the carrot of the mythical Sten produced such results, Wichman would only encourage him. Just because Lo Prek was insane, it did not necessarily follow that he was stupid.
As Lady Atago leafed through the printout with growing enthusiasm, Wichman congratulated himself on his foresight in roping Lo Prek into his organization.
"This is exactly what we need, my lord," Atago said. "I admire your dedication. If only a few others... I must confess, some of the members of the High Council are disappointing me.
"They only do what is absolutely necessary. They take nothing upon themselves. No extra effort. Sometimes I wonder if they expect me to fight this whole thing alone."
Wichman preened but quickly made halfhearted noises of support for his colleagues. Lady Atago waved him down.
"Take Pastour, for example," she said. "He's practically gone into retirement. I know he's ill, but...Oh, well. I suppose we should be grateful for his support. And at least he's continuing his work at Koldyeze. An amazingly successful program. Personally, I never held out much for it. Expecting prisoners—cowards and malcontents all—to perform that well. In fact, according to the latest data, all previous performance records have been broken."
The data she was referring to had all come from Sten and Virunga's Golden Worm. Mickied figures were hiding what was in reality a dismal performance that had only worsened as the Tahn shipped captured dignitaries to Koldyeze.
The thought of Koldyeze darkened Wichman's mood. It did not help that the people he had placed there grudgingly supported the data that so impressed Lady Atago. Still, he firmly believed that if he were in control at Koldyeze, he would be able to find far better uses for the prisoners. Especially now that it housed the best and the brightest of the Imperial prisoners. Sometimes he was awakened by dreams of what he would do to them. He never remembered the details of the dreams, only that they were pleasurable.
Lady Atago brought him back to his good mood and the business at hand. "I wonder if I could impose myself on you, my lord?"
Wichman made self-deprecating sounds. Atago ignored him. She tapped the report compiled by Lo Prek.
"I would like you to assume command of this program," she said. "I've not been pleased with the results of the sweeps so far. So many seem to be slipping through the net.
"I have been finding myself distrusting the officials responsible for carrying out my aims. And from the information you have gathered here, I may have good reason. There may be more than laziness and inefficiency behind their lack of performance."
Wichman did not know what to say. He was too overcome by emotion. To think that his efforts met favor with a hero the like of Lady Atago! He gladly accepted the new responsibilities. Also, not too far in the back of his mind was the realization of just how much power had been handed him.
Just as he was regaining his composure and was about to thank her, Atago broke in with a new thought.
"There seems to be one thing missing, however," she said as she folded up Lo Prek's study. "There is a clearly indicated trail here. But it seems to stop short. It's as if something, or someone, has been left out."
Lady Atago was right. The only part of the report Wichman had excised was the man Lo Prek believed responsible for the conspiracy: Sten. Wichman took a deep breath and then plunged in. He explained about Lo Prek and about the little being's belief that the person behind it all was also the being responsible for the murder of his brother. Lady Atago nodded as he talked. Lo Prek was clearly mad, but as a Tahn she could understand his obsession for revenge.
"Who is this man?" she finally asked.
Wichman told her.
Lady Atago frowned. The name was familiar. "Sten?" she asked. "Would that be a Commander Sten?"
Wichman said it was but wondered how she knew the rank. But he did not ask, because her face had suddenly gone blank. As if she was remembering something.
The Forez was vomiting fire. Firing everything—anything—to stop the Swampscott. Lady Atago leaned over Admiral Deska, gaping in amazement at the damage the enemy ship was taking. There seemed to be little left, and even as she watched, huge hunks of the Swampscott were being hurled away into space as Deska's guns and missiles hammered, hammered, hammered. But still, the Swampscott's chainguns kept firing. Wild communications, monitored by her probes, told her that Commander Sten was the ship's CO. Over and over, Deska killed the ship, but it kept coming in .
Then she heard the strangest voice mocking her. "Ah hoe y' noo, lass." She would never know that the voice was that of Sten's second in command, Alex Kilgour. And then the chortle became two Vydals spearing out from the oddness that was the Swampscott. The Forez was racked by the explosion. The blast tore a wall chart from a bulkhead and sent it spinning into Admiral Deska. His eviscerated corpse slammed into her, and she was falling back—back, back, into darkness. Later, when she had resumed consciousness, she had fought off her nurses and sent a boarding party to the Swampscott. She wanted the names of everyone aboard the ship—living or dead.
Atago personally checked through the ID discs until she found the correct one. Sten. And then she carefully wiped the blood away to make sure.
"The man's insane, all right," Lady Atago finally said to Wichman. "Sten is dead. I killed him myself."
Then she remembered something else.
"Twice." The word was a whisper.
"Pardon, my lady?"
"Twice. I killed him once before. And then he came back. And I killed him again." She shuddered, pushing away the ghosts.
A moment later, Wichman found himself being ushered gently out the door. He left, his ardor for his heroine un-cooled. Still, he could not help wondering at the demons, or demon, who troubled Lady Atago's sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Sten forced his body to fit the slight depression that was the only cover for 100 meters on either side of him. The prison searchlight swept across the barren landscape, methodically exploding deep shadows into light. To Sten, it seemed to hesitate a beat just before it crossed over his curled form. It was as if a living mind, rather than a computer, controlled it. Sten felt himself tense as insane thoughts flashed through his mind: Did someone know he was there? A gloating someone who was toying with him? Had there been a tip-off? Would the light suddenly stop on him, and then a dozen laughing Tahn guards jump out of the darkness to drag him into Koldyeze for a few years of solitary confinement, periodic torture, and then execution? Sten ran an old Mantis Section mantra through his mind and felt his pulse slow to normal and his breathing ease.
The light passed over him without incident.
Sten lifted his head and peered into the darkness. He pushed his senses up the series of gradual rises and then the steep hill that led to the rear of Koldyeze and his own private back entrance. Nothing.
Still, he could feel his hackles rise at the thought of pulling aside the camouflage that covered the entrance and reentering the tunnel. Then he would crawl into the catacombs beneath Koldyeze. And finally he would be back in prison!
Alex had protested when Sten announced his plan to personally touch base with Virunga. There was nothing to worry about, Sten had reassured his friend. He would be in and out before dawn.