“Good morning, Systies!” The Government complex vanished behind us as Redhawk whipped the aircar around, heading for the next target.
“Did we get everything?” Snow Leopard asked.
“Looks like it,” Merlin replied. He sat up front, checking a data screen.
“You think we’ll learn anything?”
“We’ll learn a lot. I don’t know if we’ll learn whether or not Valkyrie is there, however. Without her c-cell she’s going to be hard to spot.”
“Well, we’ve got to try.”
“Tenners-we’ve got to try. And, who knows, maybe we will spot her. This is hot biotech.”
“Second target coming up!”
“There’s another aircar on our tail.”
“I predict he’s going to be more wary than that other guy.”
We pointed the aircar’s nose right at the second target. All over Coldmark scores of Legion aircars were doing the same, and sending the data straight to the Spawn, while the Coldmarkers and Systies were scrambling, trying to monitor our activities.
We did not know if Valkyrie was here or not, but we would certainly do our best to find her.
“All right, Gravelight’s next. Where’s her cube?” Commander Val moved around the assault craft contacting just about everybody, gathering info and issuing orders at the same time. I had been elected to carry his personal starlink. It was heavy. I knew we weren’t going to get any sleep that night, and I was glad I didn’t have his job.
“Right here,” I said. We paused at the open door to Gravelight’s cube. Gravelight sprawled across her bunk, a wet towel covering her face. Quarters were crowded in the assault craft, and only VIPs rated a cube. The cubes were molded around the bunk. A desk and commo gear formed one wall, with a mini kitchen unit. A tiny, body-sized closet served as a toilet and shower. You couldn’t move without bumping into one of the walls or the ceiling. The heavy gravity seemed odd. We were downside, docked in Coldmark Port, and nobody liked it.
Val hesitated in the open doorway, his features hidden in shadows, as I hovered behind him. Gravelight was motionless, lying on her back, her face concealed by the towel. Gravelight had stripped off her boots and litesuit pants and abandoned them on the deck. She wore only panties and a ripped litesuit blouse. She’d apparently torn open the blouse and then collapsed onto the bed. She wore a flesh-colored bra under the blouse.
Gravelight breathed shallowly, her throat faintly rising and falling. I guess we were both taking it all in. She was certainly lovely. Val was silent. Stunned, maybe. I could have told him it would never happen, not with a psycher. Some things are not meant to be.
“Eighty-Eight…” Val finally spoke. Eighty-eight was her number. We hated to wake her, but there was much work to do. Important work.
“I’m awake.” Gravelight pulled the towel away from her face. Her eyes remained closed. Little drops of moisture trickled down her cheeks to her neck. I wondered whether Gravelight had been reading our thoughts. Her eyes flickered and opened, focusing on the overhead. She did not look at us. Her face appeared splotchy and strained. She raised one hand to her forehead.
“Oh, no. It hurts. Oh, no.” She closed her eyes again, stiffening.
“Can I do anything?” Val asked.
“Water. Water, please.”
Val punched a frosty cup of ice water from the kitchen console and touched it gently to Gravelight’s lips. Her hands grasped the cup. She sipped it slowly, and the color gradually returned to her cheeks. Val slipped one hand behind her neck, tangled in golden hair, to steady her head. I stood in the doorway wondering how to gracefully disappear.
“Thank you,” she said.
“It’s nothing,” Val replied.
She struggled to a half-sitting position, then collapsed back onto the pillow. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I feel really bad.”
“It’s a ten. Can you answer a few questions?”
“Yes. Yes, sure. Fire away.”
“I know you’re tired, but we need a report. Did you pick up anything in the conference, anything good?” Val triggered his recorder.
“I picked up a nasty headache. That was the high point, I’m afraid.” She made another effort to ease her back up onto the pillow, and was partially successful. Her eyes focused on Val. I might as well not have been there, but I’ll admit to being curious how one went about debriefing a psycher.
“There must have been something else,” he said.
“Yes, sure. Sure, sure, sure. All right, let me see…” She found the soggy towel and wiped her face with it. “Well, that Orman slut was the psycher. Only one. She was good, but we very quickly got tired of fencing. I concentrated on the Systies, and she went after you people. I went into a lot of heads, but couldn’t find anything intelligible about Andrion 2. The whole delegation only knows the negotiating position. Surely you don’t want to know about that. They don’t seem to know anything substantial about the unitium mines.”
“You’re using words like ‘intelligible’ and ‘substantial’. We’ll take anything we can get. Did you get any hints?”
“No…no. I’m hedging because I need more time to get in deeper. But they’re not stupid. I think I’m wasting my time in there. You should take me for a stroll past Systie HQ here, wherever that is. I might pick up something there. They’re not going to send anyone to the negotiations who knows anything.”
“Did you get anything on Valkyrie?”
“If I had picked up anything on Valkyrie,” she said, “I would have leaned over and told you about it during the conference.”
“Sorry…I know you would have. I had to ask.”
Gravelight rolled her head back and forth. “It hurts. I need more rest. I’ll get more for you tomorrow. We still have time.”
“Yes,” Val said softly. “We still have time.”
“And we need to travel,” Gravelight said sleepily. “We need to move around…” Her voice faded. “I’ll find her…I’ll find unitium…we need more…more…”
Gravelight fell asleep. Val gently took the empty cup from her grasp. She did not wake. He took a blanket from the drawer under the bunk and covered her. Such beautiful legs, I thought, such a sweet, innocent girl. Awake, she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. I wondered what psychers dreamed about. Strange dreams, from alternate worlds. We quietly left the room and Val palmed the door shut behind him. In the corridor, he leaned against the wall and sighed. He ran one hand through his curly, reddish hair. Light from the overhead lit up his features.
“A shame,” he said.
“That’s a ten,” I replied.
“She’s just a kid.”
“Yeah.” Gravelight was doomed, like all psychers. But she’d find Valkyrie for us, I was convinced. She had not even met Valkyrie, but it wouldn’t make any difference. If Gravelight could not find her, nobody could.
“You’ve got a starlink call,” I said. The link glowed red. There was to be no peace for Val or me. The nights here were too short. We had a lot to do before tomorrow.
“Val here,” he said wearily into the link.
“She’s not there. I’m sorry.” Merlin turned away from the datascreen, discouraged.
“You don’t know she’s not there! Spawn doesn’t know! Nobody knows!” Boudicca insisted, her face flushing.
“Right, we don’t know. But it’s ninety-nine percent that she’s not there. You can’t get better readings than this. And Spawn says the Preference is clean.” Merlin was calm and logical. He knew how to handle Boudicca. The Legion scout had flashed past the Preference so close there had almost been a collision, and it had set off an immediate spastic run of red alerts throughout the System fleet. The Preference had been dosed with enough biotech to identify every life form on board. And Spawn told us Valkyrie was not there.
“And what about that one percent?” I asked.
“The only way we’ll know is to board her,” Boudicca insisted.
“Right,” Merlin replied. “Tenners. You ask Cubes, I’ll suit up.” Boudicca could try the patience of an Inner. She knew an attack on the Preference was one of our final options. At any rate, it appeared very doubtful Valkyrie would still be there. We were in the lounge of the assault craft, downside, docked in Coldmark Port, sitting at a table overflowing with datascreens. It was very late. We all should have been asleep, renewing our strength for the next day. But we were munching on mags and I knew there would be no sleep for Beta, or Gamma, that night. We had too much to do.