"Just wanted a little peace and quiet," Justin told him, and threw a punch at the other's face.
Wilosha could never have evaded a serious attempt to hit him, not with Justin's
Cobra servos driving the punch. But his reflexes tried their best, throwing his arm up in front of his face... and because Justin had his audio enhancers on and knew what to listen for, he caught the faint whine of servos from the other's arm.
"What the hell was that all about?" Wilosha snarled, taking a hasty step back toward the wall.
Justin made no move to follow. "Just showing you how easy it is for a Cobra to identify a Ject. Even with the restraints your nanocomputer puts on your servos, they still kick in to that limit when you react as quickly as you just did."
Wilosha's lip twisted. "A great technique, for sure. I can just see you walking down the streets of Capitalia throwing punches at everyone you pass. You could have just asked me, you know."
"Asked you what? I already knew what you were. This was just to prove to you that I knew."
"Of course. You probably had me spotted ever since we lifted, right?"
Justin snorted gently. "No. Only since you started showing up at every other practice with your mouth spitting venom and your eyes looking envious. What conclusion would you have come to?"
"I don't envy you," Wilosha snapped. Too quickly. "I come to your workouts to keep an eye on you-nothing more."
"Keep an eye on us for what? What is it about us that you're so afraid of?"
Wilosha took a deep breath. "I don't think this is the right time for a debate,
Moreau. So you might as well get your team back in here and continue-"
He broke off as Justin took a long step toward the door, blocking the other's quiet move in that direction. "Actually, Wilosha, I think this is an excellent time for a debate," he told the other coldly. "Or at least for a little chat.
There are some things I'd like to know, starting with why the hell you Jects are trying to make a lifelong career out of sour grapes."
For a moment Wilosha glared at him in silence. "You're not more than a couple of years younger than I am," he growled at last. "You must be feeling the first twinges of Cobra Syndrome arthritis. That's what the Lord High decision-makers of the Academy did to us: sentenced us to a premature death, and for nothing.
Don't you think that's enough reason for us to be bitter?"
"No," Justin said flatly. "I'm sorry, but it's not. Nobody beat you over the head and forced you to apply to the Academy. You knew the risks going in; and if it didn't work out, then those are the breaks. Life requires certain sacrifices-on everyone's part. And as long as we're on the subject of premature deaths, you might recall all the Cobras who've died a hell of a lot younger than you are fighting spine leopards."
A muscle twitched in Wilosha's cheek. "I'm sorry. But it's not the ones who've died for Aventine that we object to."
"All of us have risked our lives," Justin reminded him. "You can't single out those who happen to have survived to vent your contempt at."
"It's not contempt," Wilosha insisted. "It's an honest and legitimate concern over the problems we see in the whole Cobra system."
Justin felt his stomach muscles tighten. "You sound like Priesly banging his fist over the net."
"So Governor Priesly's done the best job of putting it into words; so what?"
Wilosha countered. "The point is still valid: that when you're on the outside looking in you get a different perspective on things. You Cobras see the prestige and physical power and political double vote; while we see the elitism and the arrogance that goes with absolute job security."
Justin favored him with a cold smile. "Absolute job security, hm? That's very interesting... especially given that that's exactly what Priesly's gotten out of you and the other Jects."
Wilosha blinked. "What are you talking about? The governorship isn't a permanent position."
"I wasn't talking about the governorship. I was referring to his status as head and chief speaker for a highly vocal political group. Think it through, Wilosha.
Aventine can't simply get rid of the Cobras, for reasons you know as well as I do."
"We don't want to get rid of you, just alter your power structure to-"
"Just shut up and listen, will you? So all right; if the Cobras are always going to exist, why shouldn't an organization whose sole purpose in life is to oppose the Cobras do likewise?"
For a moment Wilosha stared at him. "Are you suggesting," he said at last, "that
Governor Priesly started this whole movement solely to create a political base for himself?"
Justin shrugged. "You know more about the inner workings of your group than I do. Is that how he's using it? You might start by deciding whether or not you were this bitter about being rejected from the Cobra Academy before Priesly told you you ought to be."
"You're twisting the facts," Wilosha growled. But he didn't sound totally convinced. "Through Priesly we threaten your elite status, so of course you try to impugn his motives and activities."
"Perhaps," Justin said quietly. "But I didn't send someone charging into his office trying to make the Jects look like dangerous homicidal maniacs. Think about it, Wilosha. Do you really want to be on the side of a man who deliberately mangles truth in the name of political power?"
Wilosha snorted. "You're skating pretty close to slander," he said. "Unless you have some proof that that incident happened the way you claim it did. Some proof besides your brother's word, of course."
Justin felt disgust rising like bile in his throat. "Oh, for-" He took a breath, released it through clenched teeth. "Just get out of here, Wilosha. I haven't got time to waste arguing with someone who's already decided to let the party do his thinking for him."
Wilosha's face darkened. "Look, Moreau-"
"I said get out. We've got work to do."
The other opened his mouth, closed it again. Eyes on Justin, he sidled past the
Cobra and out the door. The dull metal panel slid closed, and for a moment
Justin stared at it, listening to his heartbeat slowly settle down and wondering if the talk had done any good at all. He could almost sympathize with Wilosha; the man was, after all, a would-be Cobra, and a strong sense of loyalty was high on the list of qualities the Academy screened its applicants for.
On the other hand, so were intelligence and integrity... and if he'd knocked even some of the stars out of Wilosha's eyes, the other might at least start watching Priesly's moves and words more closely. And if he found sufficient truth to the idea that Priesly was being corrupted by his own power...
It might help blunt Priesly's power. But it wouldn't help bring Jin back.
Clenching his teeth, Justin took a ragged breath. She's alive, he told himself firmly. Just as he had through the long and sleepless nights of the past four days. She's alive, and we're going to get her out of there.
Stepping up to the door, he slid it open and stepped out into the corridor.
"Cobras!" he bellowed. "Break time's over. Get back here-we've got a lot of work ahead of us."
Chapter 33
The crowd milling around the Azras city center was large and noisy, composed mainly of youths and seedy-looking older men. Some, the younger ones especially, seemed to be radiating a combination of impatience and desperation, but in general the mood of the crowd was that of slightly bored normality. At one end, seated at a table, city officials took names of each of the would-be workers, keying them into portable computer terminals where the names were-presumably-ranked according to previous work history, skills, and other pertinent information. Working his way slowly toward the table in what the city dwellers probably considered a neat line, Daulo fought against his own nervousness and tried to look inconspicuous.
"Ah-Master Sammon," a voice came from behind him; and Daulo's heart skipped a beat. As casually as he could, he turned around. "Greetings, Master Moffren
Omnathi," he nodded gravely, making
the sign of respect and then shifting his eyes to the young man standing at Omnathi's side. "I greet you as well,
Master...?"
"I am Miron Akim," the other answered. "If you'd like, I'll be glad to hold your place in line while you and Master Omnathi confer."
Daulo swallowed hard; but before he could say anything, Omnathi had taken his arm and eased him out of line.
"You'll excuse this unorthodox approach, I hope," Omnathi commented quietly as he led Daulo away toward a relatively empty part of the center.
"What's this about?" Daulo demanded. Or rather, tried to demand; to his own ears his voice sounded more guilty than threatening. "I thought we'd settled everything two days ago."
"Yes, so it seemed," Omnathi nodded calmly. "But a couple of things have come up since then that I thought you could possibly help us with."
"Such as?" Daulo asked, stomach tightening.
Omnathi waved a hand at the assembled crowd. "This Mangus place, for instance.
Your determination to gatecrash struck me as being rather a waste of time and energy, even given the stiffneck pride often associated with villagers." Daulo snorted; Omnathi ignored him. "So I had my men do a complete file check and confirmed that, as we told you, Mangus is indeed nothing more than a private electronics development center."
"And you'd like me therefore to leave and go home?" Daulo growled.
"Not at all. It occurred to me that perhaps you'd been mistaken about the timing of this gatecrash being your idea... and that Jasmine Alventin might still think this work party was the best way to get in."
Daulo's lungs seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. For a half dozen heartbeats the only sound was the dull buzz of the crowd around them, a buzz that seemed distant behind the roar of blood in Daulo's ears. "Understand, please," Omnathi said at last, "that at the moment I'm not accusing you of anything except unknowing cooperation with an enemy of Qasama. I'm even willing to believe that her prompting may have been so artfully buried that you honestly think all this was your idea. But from now on, that's over. You know now that she's an offworld spy... and you'll be expected to behave accordingly."
"All right," Daulo said. "Threat received and understood. So what exactly do you want from me now?"
Omnathi sent a leisurely glance around the crowd. "If the electronics information in Mangus is truly her goal, than a little thing like a planetary search isn't likely to slow her down much. She'll find a way in... and if she does, I want someone there who can identify her."
"Someone like me, I suppose?" Daulo asked.
"Exactly," Omnathi nodded. "Of course, spotting her is only the first step. You haven't had any training in methods of fugitive capture, and it's a little too late to teach you. Fortunately, I remember that you'd originally planned to have your brother along on this trip."
Daulo glanced at the line behind him. "Which is why Miron Akim is here, isn't it? To go in with me?"
"And to command you." Omnathi's face hadn't changed... but his voice was suddenly covered with ice. "From this moment on, Daulo Sammon, you're under the direct authority of the Shahni."
Daulo swallowed hard. So Jin had been right-the story he'd worked so hard to spin for Moffren Omnathi two nights ago had been that much wasted effort. The
Shahni knew enough-or at least suspected enough-and Miron Akim was their countermove. Placing him under Shahni authority and Shahni surveillance... "And under their sword, too?" he asked.
Omnathi gave him a long look. "If you aid us in capturing the Aventinian spy, all other questions concerning your involvement in this will be forgotten.
Otherwise... as you say, the sword will be waiting." He glanced over Daulo's shoulder. "You'd better get back into line. Miron Akim will give you any further information you may need."
"You realize this is probably a waste of time," Daulo pointed out, driven by something he didn't quite understand to make one final effort. "She probably won't even show up in Mangus."
"It's our time to waste," Omnathi said calmly. "Farewell, Daulo Sammon."
And with that he turned his back and disappeared into the crowd. Daulo looked after him for a long moment, wondering what to do now. If he simply turned the opposite way and left Azras right now...
But of course it wasn't just him under the Shahni's sword. Taking a deep breath, he tried to quiet the thunder of his heartbeat and headed back to the line.
Akim was waiting for him. "Ah-Daulo Sammon," he nodded. "You had a pleasant talk, I take it?"
"Oh, certainly," Daulo said irritably, stepping back into line beside him. The man behind them muttered something about the end of the line; Akim sent the man an icy look and he fell silent.
They reached the table about ten minutes later, and it was only then that Daulo realized that Mayor Capparis himself was overseeing the operation. "Ah!" the mayor beamed at Daulo as he and Akim stepped up to the table. "Daulo Matrolis and his brother Perto. I'm glad you heard about this opportunity."
"I also, Mayor Capparis," Daulo said politely, making the sign of respect. He'd never heard the name Matrolis before, but knew a cue when he heard it. So did the man at the computer; he was busy tapping keys before Daulo even had to repeat the name. "Thank you," he nodded when he'd finished. "You can find out over there whether or not you'll be accepted." He pointed to another table at the edge of the city center, near a half dozen parked buses.
"Thank you," Daulo said, making the sign of respect to both him and the mayor.
Akim followed suit, and they headed off through the crowd.
"Daulo and Perto Matrolis, eh?" Akim murmured as they walked. "Do I assume that the files matching those names will show us highly suited for this work party?"
"This whole exercise would be a waste of time if it didn't, wouldn't it?" Daulo returned tartly.
"Agreed. Interesting, too, that you got Mayor Capparis himself to take a hand in this."
"Is it that hard to believe?"
Akim shrugged. "Perhaps not in this part of Qasama. For myself, I find it refreshing to see cooperation between city and village leaders. More often we see you at each other's throats."
"Um." Daulo looked around the buses, estimating their capacity. If they were to be filled completely, it looked like the work party would be something on the order of a hundred-fifty men. Odd that they'd elect to go through this routine every two weeks, he thought. Permanent workers would be a lot easier... though perhaps they don't have any long-term housing facilities out there. His eyes drifted to the area near the table... "Uh-oh."
"What is it?" Akim murmured.
"Over there-those men watching the proceedings?" Daulo said, turning his head partly away.
Akim glanced the indicated direction. "That's the group from Mangus," he identified them. "Drivers and a couple of higher officials."
"One of the officials is the director's son, Radig Nardin," Daulo growled. "He knows me."
Akim frowned. "How well?"
"Well enough to identify me," Daulo gritted.
"Is he likely to keep you out if he spots you?"
Daulo thought back to the attacks on him and Jin. "I think so, yes."
"Um." Akim considered. "I suppose I could identify myself to him... but that would probably start rumors floating around Mangus, and I'd just as soon avoid that. All right. Wait here; I'll go find one of our people and arrange for a distraction."
"Good." Daulo looked back over-
And felt a shock run straight through his core. In the center of the group from
Mangus, talking earnestly to Nardin, was a smallish man. Or rather, a smallish figure wearing a man's clothing. Clothing he recognized...
It was Jin Moreau.
God above. The scene seemed to waver before Daulo's eyes. Right there, in the middle of Azras, with people all around. If Akim turned to look-if he identified her-they would both be dead.
But Akim was already gone.
Licking his lips, Daulo tried to still the shaking of his hands. Whatever Jin's
purpose in doing something so insane, if she would just hurry it up and get out of here, she might still have a chance.
And as he watched, Jin did indeed turn away. Accompanied by Nardin and one of the other men, she walked to the end of the line of buses-
And got into a car parked there.
Daulo watched the vehicle pull away onto the street; watched it disappear behind the buildings surrounding the city center; and was still gazing after it when
Akim returned. "All set," he reported. "Which one is Radig Nardin?"
"He's gone," Daulo said mechanically. "Drove off a couple of minutes ago."