She tapped out a test routine, keyed it and waited.
Presently, data began flowing across the small screen on the console. She stared. That simple? It was as though the material were waiting for her to ask. As though someone had prepared a bio for her to discover. Everything she needed was there - facts and figures.
"Suspect everyone," Oakes had said. "Trust no one."
And here he was being proved right beyond his wildest fears. The text kept rolling out. She backed it up, keyed for printout, and set it in motion once more.
The heading of the record was the most surprising thing of all.
MORGAN LON OAKES.
Cloned. Raised, as he would put it, "like a common vegetable." Out of the axolotl tanks and into an Earthside womb.
Why?
There it was even as she asked. "To conceal the fact that it could be done, the birth was made to appear natural."
It was a feat of politics worthy of Shi.... or Oakes. Did he know? How could he know? She stopped the printout and asked who else had called up this data.
"Ship."
It was an answer she had never before seen. Ship had worked with this data. Fearfully, she asked why Ship had called up the bio on Oakes.
"To store it in a special record for Kerro Panille should he ever desire to write a history."
She pulled her hands away from the keys. Am I talking to Ship?
Panille was one of those who said he talked to Ship. Not one of the fools, then.
A...fool?
She found herself more fearful of this discovery than she had been of the Scream Room. Ship dealt in powers far beyond those of Oakes and Lewis and Murdoch. She glanced around the enlarged cubby - pretentious damned place. Her gaze fell on the mandala. He had taken the movable hangings. The mystical design lay exposed against a bare metal bulkhead of silvery gray. It appeared lifeless to her, robbed of some original breath.
I'm not worthy of talking to Ship.
This had been an acciden.... a dangerous accident. Hesitantly, she started the Oakes bio printing once more. Words again flowed across the screen and the printer rattled with its text.
Legata heaved a deep sigh of relief. Perilous ground. But she had escaped.
This time.
She felt that something strange was happening, some new program awakening in Ship. It was a feeling in her shoulderblades. Something even more awesome might happen and she was right in the middle of it.
Her attention returned to the Oakes bio. That had been a time of great scurrying about Earthside, great secrets. Salvation and survival - whatever the label - the arrival of Ship and the desperation of doomed people.
Desperation breeds extremes if nothing else.
"Legata."
It was Oakes calling her name and she felt her heart skip a beat. But it was the console override. He was calling her from groundside.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
"My job."
She glanced at the com-console telltales to see if he could find out what she was reading. It was still blocked by the Ox gate.
He recognized the sound of the printer, though.
"What are you printing out?"
"Some data you'll find interesting."
"Ahhhh, yes."
She could almost see his mind working on this. Legata had something she would not trust to the open channels between Ship and ground. She would show it to him, though. It must be interesting.
I'll have to find something juicy, she thought. Something about Ferry. That's why I'm here.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I've been expecting you groundside."
"I'm not feeling well. Didn't you get my signal?"
"Yes, my dear, but we have urgent matters demanding our attention."
"But it's not full dayside yet, Morgan. I couldn't sleep and I still have work here."
"Is everything all right?"
"Just busy," she said.
"This cannot wait. We need you."
"Very well. I'm coming down."
"Wait for me at the Redoubt."
At the Redoubt!
He broke the connection and it was only then that she realized he had spoken of needing her. Was that possible? Alliance or love? She did not think there was much room for love in the convoluted patterns of Morgan Oakes.
Sooner expect Lewis to start raising a pet Runner.
Either way, Oakes wanted her presence. That gave her a wedge into the power she needed. Something still nagged at her, though - the one fear above all others: What if he does love me?
Once, she had thought she wanted him to love her. There was no question that he was the most interesting man she had ever met. Unpredictably terrifying, but interesting. There was much to be said for that.
Will I destroy him?
The printer finished producing the Oakes bio. She folded it, crossed to the mandala looking for a place to conceal the thick wad of Shipscript. The mandala was fixed solidly to the bulkhead. She turned and glanced around the cubby. Where to hide this?
Do I need to hide it?
Yes. Until the right moment.
The divan? She crossed to the divan and knelt beside it. The thing was fixed to the deck by bolts. Could she call a serviceman? N.... she didn't dare let anyone suspect what she was doing. Gritting her teeth, she put two fingers on a bolt and twisted. The bolt turned.
Strength has its purposes!
The bolts removed, she lifted the end of the divan. My! It was heavy. She doubted that three men could lift it. She slipped the text under the divan, restored the bolts, twisting them tight.
Now for something juicy about Win Ferry.
She stood up and returned to the console. Ferry gave her no difficulty either. He practiced no discretion whatsoever.
Poor old fool! I'm going to destroy Oakes for you, Win.
No! Don't trick yourself into nobility. You're doing it on your own and for yourself. Let's keep love and the glory of others out of it.
***
Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your master.
OAKES WOKE out of his first sound sleep groundside to muffled pounding outside his cubby.
His fingers reached his com-console before he was even awake and the viewscreen showed complete madness up and down Colony's corridors.
Even outside his own locked hatchway!
"I'm hungry now! I'm hungry now! I'm hungry now!"
The chant was a snarl in the throat of the night.
There were no guns in evidence, but plenty of rocks.
In a matter of blinks, Lewis was on the line.
"Morgan, we've lost them for now. This thing will have to run its course unti...."
"What the hell is happening?" Oakes did not like it that his voice cracked.
"It started out as a round of The Game down in the 'ponicsways. Lots of drinking. Now it's a food riot. We can flood 'em out wit...."
"Wait a minute! Are the perimeters still secure?"
"Yes. My people out there."
"Then wh....?"
"Water in the passages will slow 'em down until w...."
"No!" Oakes took a deep breath. "You're out of your league, Jesus. What we'll do is let them go. If they seize food, then it'll be their responsibility when food gets even shorter. The supply does not change, you hear me? No extra food!"
"But they're running wild throug...."
"Let them rip things up. The repairs afterward will keep them busy. And a good riot will purge emotions for a time, wear them out physically. Then we turn it to our advantage, but only after well-reasoned consideration."
Oakes listened for some response from Lewis, but the 'coder remained silent.
"Jesus?"