Cosmopath - [Bengal Station 03] Page 18

  “Chandrasakar,” the colonist said with a threat in his voice, “shut it. We’re coming out. We’re well armed, and we’ve got the girl. If you try anything, she dies and a lot of your people with her.”

  “The Mussoree is yours,” Chandrasakar said with apparent equanimity.

  Vaughan stared around the plain, looking for movement; other than for the swaying polyp forest on the distant incline, all was still.

  Movement, when it came, was sudden and all the more shocking for it. Half a dozen green men emerged as if by magic from the ground on the incline below the tall mushroom; their leader had an arm locked about Kiki Namura’s neck, and a pistol lodged in the small of her back. His colleagues, all armed, surrounded him in a protective cordon.

  They were not alone, Vaughan saw. He made out perhaps a dozen others, singly and in pairs as they emerged from slits and fissures in the fungal ground and hurried towards the Mussoree.

  They were green, Vaughan realised now, by dint of the fact that they were covered from head to foot in a fine verdant powder, which made them at once alien and inhuman. A ludicrous touch was the ragged garments some of them wore, tattered shirts, shorts and vests; others were naked.

  They moved quickly across the plain towards the Mussoree, Namura stumbling along with them, wide-eyed with fright.

  Vaughan wanted to lower his handset, access his tele-ability and read the secret in the minds of the colonists, but at the same time knew better than to move.

  He wondered what plan Chandrasakar had concocted. He knew that the tycoon would not let the colonists get away with the ship, but at the same time it would be difficult to disable the colonists and effect Namura’s escape.

  He glanced at McIntosh. The Australian looked distraught.

  The first colonists were almost at the ramp of the Mussoree when the firing began.

  Vaughan was unsure who started it. There was a movement from behind a stand of fungus to the right of the ship, and then a colonist fired. In the same instant he saw a second colonist fall on the perimeter of the plain, sectioned by laser fire.

  Then the air was alight with criss-crossing laser beams and the whine of projectile missiles. He heard screams and curses and dived to the ground a second before a laser sheared over his head and dinned into the side of the Kali. Prone, he looked up and witnessed a scene of chaos. The plain was strewn with body parts and smeared blood, and the few colonists left standing were not going down without a fight. Quicksilver spider drones, flashing lasers, came out of cover and advanced with mechanical indifference, losing legs and armour as they went but advancing nevertheless, firing all the time and reducing the outlying colonists to so much ripped meat.

  In the melee, Vaughan saw Kiki Namura go down. Her captor took a laser shot in the head, and made good his promise to take the biologist with him.

  To Vaughan’s right, McIntosh let out a cry and broke into a run towards where Namura lay.

  Vaughan cried out and launched himself at the Australian. He tried to tackle him to the ground, but McIntosh dodged him and ran - straight into the path of a solid projectile.

  Vaughan looked away, and gagged as a hot spray of ejected body fluid smacked him full in the chest. He hit the ground and stayed there.

  Then, after all the hellish noise, the zizz of lasers, the hiss of projectiles, the screams and cries of the dying and the wounded, a sudden and awful silence settled over the scene, and Vaughan lifted his head and stared.

  The stillness was what struck him first, the absolute unmoving tableau that seconds ago had been a seething pit. Even the drones, upright among the dead, had come to an unnatural halt, their duty done. Perhaps two dozen bodies littered the plain, not one of them in one piece; most were colonists, with one or two security personnel - along with McIntosh and Namura.

  Vaughan picked himself up, surveyed the scene for a second, then limped across to where Namura lay face down beside the colonist. He knelt, reached out and touched the side of her pretty face, her staring eyes no longer wide with fright. The colonist’s projectile had opened a hole the size of his fist through her back, and in the confusion a stray laser bolt had drilled her forehead. He told himself that she would have died instantly.

  He was aware of movement all around, as security personnel came out of hiding and moved among the dead.

  Then he saw Chandrasakar, fastidiously picking his way through the charnel debris towards him.

  He had a terrible presentiment, then: the tycoon was about to return the necropath program and ask him to probe the minds of the dead colonists. Then he knew better. Chandrasakar would want to keep that secret, if indeed he possessed it, to himself.

  The tycoon looked about him, an expression of mild revulsion on his well-fed face. “We couldn’t let them have the ship,” he said quietly to Vaughan, as if seeking exculpation.

  Vaughan said nothing, but stood and looked around at the carnage.

  Chandrasakar turned to his security personnel. “Get rid of the colonists. Gather our dead and place them in the ship. We’ll arrange suitable ceremonies when the time is right.”

  His men moved among the dead, acceding to his command.

  Vaughan gathered his thoughts and said, “You could have let them enter the ship; they might have kept their word and released Namura.”

  Chandrasakar looked at him, almost as if he were beneath his contempt. “When you are in a position of power, I have learned from experience, you do your utmost to maximise that power and not allow your opponents the slightest opportunity of gaining the upper hand.”

  Vaughan opened his mouth to argue that that ploy had cost an innocent woman her life, but restrained himself. He turned and walked towards the Kali. He saw, behind the elongated viewscreens that dotted the ship’s flank, a gallery of shocked spectators. He wondered if Parveen Das was among them, and if she’d witnessed the slaughter.

  * * * *

  FIFTEEN

  A TERRIBLE COINCIDENCE

  Parveen Das woke late, found the bed beside her empty, and vaguely recalled Rab getting up a couple of hours earlier. She’d had too many beers the night before, in the aftermath of Kiki Namura’s abduction, and her head pounded as she sat up. She moved to the bathroom, drank a lot of water, then showered and dressed.

  She couldn’t face breakfast, but decided she could manage a coffee. She took the elevator-plate to the observation lounge, considering Vaughan and his actions yesterday. She still couldn’t decide whether his racing after Kiki had been brave or foolish. She’d scanned him after the event, and read that he didn’t know either. She supposed it was just the impulsive, selfless action of someone who cared about other people. He had been armed, but even so... Had Parveen been in his situation, she would have left well alone.

  She entered the lounge and saw a group of scientists and crew gathered before the viewscreen, staring aghast and exclaiming. She hurried across the room and eased her way through the press. Many of the scientists were turning away, retching, but all Parveen could do was stare out in shock.

  The scene between the starships was a battlefield strewn with lasered body parts. She made out the corpses of what appeared to be humans daubed in green - and then saw the remains of McIntosh and Namura.

  But who were the green men? The aliens Vaughan had seen earlier?

  She touched her handset and sent out a probe.

  She came across a guttering consciousness on the cusp of death. The green men were not aliens, but FNSA settlers. She concentrated, at first reading only intense physical pain and the terrible awareness of approaching death; beyond, deeper, she caught fleeting images, desires. The colonists had been attempting to board the Mussoree, to get back to Earth to tell the FNSA about something they’d discovered underground... She concentrated, chasing the secret as the man died: she saw the image of what must have been an alien city, and then no more.

  She withdrew her probe and moved on. Another colonist lay near the Mussoree, at the very limit of her range. She scanned, but this o
ne was even further gone than the first. She read dwindling memories of vast underground caverns, of a rebel contingent fighting other colonists in brief skirmishes.

  The man died, and she moved around the plain, searching in vain.

  She probed a couple of security personnel within her range, getting through their partial mind-shields but reading nothing of significance: they had had orders from Singh to take out the colonists if they approached the Mussoree, which is exactly what they had done.

  Then she read Vaughan, directly below her, and his mind was filled with grief and regret at the deaths of Namura and McIntosh.

  Parveen quickly withdrew her probe and braced her arms against the padded rail, head hanging.

  Namura and McIntosh...

  She went back to the security guards and read them: they had had no orders to kill the FNSA pair, as far as she could detect. But what about the spider drones? Had they been ordered to take out the pair?

  The question she wanted answering, the question she knew she must ask, was whether Rab had known that they had been spies. As she pushed herself from the rail and hurried from the lounge, she knew the answer: it could not be a coincidence that the FNSA plants had died in the fire-fight; therefore Rab must have sanctioned their killings.

  Sickened, she took the elevator and dropped to the exit ramp. Rab was striding into the ship, a grey pallor suffusing his mocha complexion.

  “Rab, we have to-”

  “Not now, Parveen...” and he gestured feebly to the carnage outside.

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  He stopped, staring at her, then nodded briefly. “Very well. Let’s go to...” and he gestured to the elevator plate.

  They rode up in silence, Rab staring impassively at the passing bulkhead, Parveen’s mind a whirl of supposition and the questions she needed to ask.

  They stepped from the plate and she followed him to his suite.

  He hurried over to the bar and poured himself a stiff brandy. He gestured with the bottle, inviting her.

  She shook her head. “You didn’t tell me, Rab.”

  He looked genuinely confused. “Tell you what?” He stood with his back to the bar. He appeared to be shocked at what had taken place.

  She gestured. “The colonists.” She’d start there, and work around to Namura and McIntosh. “You said nothing about the fact that an FNSA colony ship had landed here.”

  “Parveen-”

  She went on, “I would have thought you might have trusted me that much.”

  “Parveen, there’s a time and place for everything.”

  “And this is it. I want to know-”

  “I mean,” he said patiently, “that there’s a time and place that would be safe to tell you about the colonists. And I judged that it wasn’t on Earth, or aboard the Kali.”

  “Then where?” she asked incredulously.

  “I was going to tell you when we’d left most of the scientists here and gone underground.”

  She blinked. “You don’t trust your own...?” She stopped. He’d known about Namura and McIntosh, then. Something turned cold in her gut.

  “In my position, Parveen, it pays to be cautious. But rest assured, I would have told just as soon as I judged it wise to do so.”

  She hardly heard his reassurances. “You knew about Namura and McIntosh, didn’t you?”

  It was Rab’s turn to look surprised. “Meaning?”

  “You knew,” she said, “that they were FNSA plants.”

  He hardly missed a beat. “How did you know about them?”

  She could hardly admit that she’d read them earlier. She gestured outside. “When McIntosh lay dying, I read it in his mind. He was a plant, though an unwilling one. He was coerced into turning traitor, but you probably know all about that.” She stopped, staring at him, then said, “You had them killed, didn’t you, Rab?”

  He held her gaze, considering his words before replying. “Would you believe me if I said that, honestly, I didn’t give the order that led to their deaths? I... I’m as shocked as you and everyone else at what happened. It was an accident, a coincidence.”

  She opened her mouth, but no words came. She wanted to believe him; more than anything she wanted to believe that the man she loved couldn’t have been so cold and calculating as to so ruthlessly sanction the killing of two naive and innocent people.

  Impasse... A silence filled the room. They stared at each other.

  Rab made a move. He very precisely placed his brandy on the bar, crossed the room and stood before her. He reached out, stroked a strand of hair from her cheek, and drew her to him.

  She felt his warmth, and hated herself for mistrusting him.

  “Parveen, please... I know it’s hard. I know what all the evidence suggests... but I’m not a monster, despite what your colleagues in India might suppose. The deaths of Kiki and David were a terrible coincidence.”

  She wanted to believe him, more than anything... She found herself nodding and sniffing back her tears.

  She said, “The colonists wanted to get back to Earth, tell the FNSA about something they found down there.”

  “And that’s why we’ll be going underground soon.”

  “You don’t know what the colonists discovered?”

  He smiled. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  She held him. “Rab...” She looked up, pulled away. “If you’d let me in, let me read you, just for a second...”

  He dashed her hopes. “Parveen, I promise that soon, very soon, I’ll do that, okay? Very soon I’ll let you share everything I know.”

  She could have gone on, argued, told him that if he loved her, truly, then he should have nothing to hide... But she desisted. She took what small comfort she could from his promise, and nodded.

  Rab said, “Good. Now, how about a drink?”

  She shook her head. “I... no. I need a little time alone to think things through, okay?”

  He squeezed her hand. “I understand, Parveen,” he said, and let her go.

  She left the suite and took the elevator down to the observation lounge.

  * * * *

  SIXTEEN

  DEVELOPMENTS

  Vaughan found Das slouched on a foam-form, nursing a drink. He fetched a beer from the bar and crossed to her. She looked up. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying.

  Outside, the mopping-up operations were still going on - conducted, ironically, by the spider drones with just the same level of clinical efficiency as they’d employed during the slaughter.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  She shook her head. He sat down and watched her. She didn’t look up.

  He drank his own beer, and at last said, “I wonder if you could tell me something?”

  She looked up, enquiring.

  “I’d like to know who you’re working for.”

  “What makes you think—?” she began.

  “Look, I know you know more than you’ve told me, and I want to know where you stand in all...” he gestured towards the clean-up, “...all this.”

  She touched a control on her handset, looked at him appraisingly for a while, then nodded. “First, tell me what you know about what happened, Jeff.”

  He regarded her, considering how much to tell her. “Okay. Kiki’s abductors weren’t natives, as we first thought. Apparently a colony ship landed here twenty-five years ago, sent out by the FNSA. They found something underground. They - or rather a faction of the original colonists, Chandrasakar thinks - wanted to get back to Earth so they can inform their government.” He watched her, but she showed no surprise. He went on, “Chandrasakar effectively stopped their little plan, even if it did mean sacrificing Namura, McIntosh, and a couple of security personnel... If you didn’t know before now, you lover is a scheming son-of-a-bitch who’d stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

  He thought she might bridle at this, but she regarded him evenly.

  “Anyway, that’s what I know.”

  �
��You’re a truthful man, Jeff. You’re also a good man.”

  Her words surprised him. He lowered his beer and looked at her. He recalled her touching the controls of her handset and staring at him. He had a sudden, awful suspicion.

  She confirmed it. “You’re not the only telepath aboard the Kali,” she said.

  He thought: my mind-shield, but even as the thought formed, she was smiling. “I corrupted your shield back on Earth, in the spaceport lounge. It’s useless.”