Kristine Smith - Kilian 3 - Law of Survival

CHAPTER 1

"Come look at these."

Jani Kilian maneuvered through the morning workday crowd and joined Lucien

Pascal at the shop window. The display proved typical for an establishment

bordering Cabinet Row, quiet and opulent at the same time. The store

specialized in fine tableware—the cutlery and metal plate that filled the

velvet-draped display niches seemed to glow in the Chicago morning sun.

"This is a very good thank-you gift for your better clients." Lucien pointed

to a small silver bowl that had been shaped into a half-shell, then

satin-polished until it appeared lit from within. "Not too expensive, but not

cheap either. It implies that the document business is good, but you're too

astute to throw money about without good reason. It just so happens that you

consider the recipient to be a good reason." He bent closer to the window to

get a better look, his white-blond hair capturing the light like the silver.

"Hand out a few of those, then sit back and watch the commissions pour in."

Jani examined the bowl. Lucien had acquired his eye under the tutelage of

Exterior Minister Anais Ulanova—his taste, as always, proved sound but

expensive. "I already have more commissions than I can handle." She turned

away from the window and continued down the walkway. "I should be home working

on a few of them now instead of walking you to the train." She slipped her

hand inside her trouser pocket, working her fingers through the assorted vend

tokens and keycards until they closed around a slip of paper. The crisp,

Cabinet-grade parchment crackled—she

1

2 Kristine Smith

jerked out her hand, then folded her arms and turned back to Lucien.

He stood in front of the window, watching her. He looked like a fairy tale

soldier in his dress blue-greys, the steel-blue tunic cut on the diagonal with

a black leather crossover belt, the grey trousers slashed along the sides with

mainline red stripes. He'd set his brimmed lid with geometric precision. Even

his red lieutenant's bars and expert marksman badges glittered like costume

decoration.

Only the fully packed holster on his waistbelt belied the romantic image.

That, and the light in his brown eyes, as cold as the metal on the other side

of the glass. "Why are you so edgy?"

Jani forced a smile. "What makes you think I'm edgy?"

"Because you're answering my question with a question, for one thing."

"I do that all the time. You're not the only one who complains about it."

"But I'm the only one who knows what it means in this particular instance."

Lucien strolled to her side. "At oh-six, you get a call from the lobby. It's

your building manager, with an early morning documents delivery from Cabinet

Archives. Nothing unusual in that—you've gotten those before. You tumble out

of bed, throw on some clothes, and go downstairs to retrieve them." He leaned

close to her, bringing with him scents of soap and freshly washed hair.

"Except you don't return right away, and when you finally do show up, you're

snappish and distracted. You refuse to eat breakfast, and you hustle me out

the door before I've even swallowed a cup of coffee." He drew even nearer,

until he brushed against her arm. "John would be upset if he knew you didn't

eat. You know that you can't afford to mistreat yourself, considering your

condition."

Jani backed off a step so that she could look Lucien in the face. And what a

face, the full mouth and strong bones still softened enough by youth to imply

innocence. An angel, perched on the brink of damnation. Stay focused. She knew

he could distract her, then trap her with a question or an offhand comment.

"I'm fine. It just hit me how much work I have to do. I've got that meeting at

the idomeni embassy to-

LAW OF SURVIVAL 3

day, and if form holds true, it will run longer than expected. I've got three

Treasury summaries due next week, and I haven't even looked at the data."

"So as you said, why waste the time playing escort now?" Lucien stood easily,

arms at his sides, head cocked in artless curiosity. "Where are you going

after you leave me at Union?"

"The only place I'm going after I leave you at Union is home." Jani turned her

back on him and started to walk. Her weak right knee sagged with every step,

the persistent reminder of an eventful summer. "I've found that the occasional

break clears my head. Maybe I'll take another one later today, come back here

and buy something for my best clients." She took a deep, steadying breath. The

crisp fall air held a city melange of restaurant aromas, overheated skimmer

batteries, and a whiff of pungent cologne from a passing pedestrian. "What

time's your train?"

"Oh-seven and a half. Same as when you asked five minutes ago." Lucien moved

up beside her, matching her stride for stride. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"How can I help you if you never tell me anything?"

"I don't need your help."

"Who are you meeting?"

"I'm not meeting anybody."

As they continued up the walkway, Jani noted that people stepped aside for

them. They glanced first at Lucien, then at her, their eyes questioning. Who

are you, lady? A Family member on an early morning shopping spree with her

officer boyfriend? A colonial diplomat out for a stroll with her bodyguard?

She knew she cut an imposing figure in her black trousers and crimson

shirt-jacket. She matched Lucien in ranginess and almost matched him in

height, her short black hair and brown skin serving as dark contrast to his

brilliant blondness and paling summer tan. That's who I am—the soldier's

shadow. Not the real thing—please don't make that mistake. It was an error

she'd made herself once, thinking herself a soldier. As was usual with those

sorts of lapses, others had paid a steeper price for it than she.

They turned the corner, and Union Station loomed into

4 Kristine Smith

view. Commuters streamed out, on the way to posts in the Cabinet Ministries,

NUVA-SCAN, or Neoclona, and in, travelling to Fort Sheridan or other more

distant points in the Michigan province. They entered the station, a train

cathedral of stained glass and vaulted ceilings; the pound of footsteps and

the keen of voices ricocheted off the walls and seemed to increase in volume

with each successive bounce. Jani's pulse quickened as she elbowed through the

crowd. She had hurried through many train stations over the years.

They reached the embarkation platform and scanned the Outbound display, then

hurried along the line of trains and down the track just as the first call for

the Sheridan Express sounded. Lucien stopped before an open car, then turned.

"I'll see you at the embassy?"

Jani hesitated, then nodded. "You're going to be there?"

"I'd never miss a chance to watch you and Nema cause trouble." He pulled her

close and kissed her, his lips warm and bruising. "Enjoy your break" he

whispered as he pulled away. He boarded the train, remaining in the entry as

the door slid closed and the sleek bullet pulled away. They didn't wave

good-bye, just as they never held hands, or hugged—it wasn't their style. They

just stared at one another until the angle grew too sharp and Lucien

disappeared from view.

Jani stood on the platform until the train vanished around the bend, then

reached into her pocket once more. This time, she removed the piece of paper,

her actions of earlier that morning replaying in her mind.

/ met Hodge at the front desk. No one else was in the lobby. The only person

outside was the doorman. I opened the documents case in Hodge's presence, like

I always do. If the seals appeared tampered-with, or if anything looked

strange, better to uncover it before a reliable witness. I found nothing

amiss. Seals appeared intact. The papers had been filed in an orderly manner.

Then she had caught sight of the slip of pale green parchment sticking out of

the corner of one of the slipcases like a marker tag. She had gone ahead and

closed the case, waiting until she boarded the lift before opening it again

and removing the scrap with a hesitant hand.

LAW OF SURVIVAL 5

You possess hidden talents, Niall—it takes skill to crack a Cabinet-grade

seal. She unfolded the note and studied it as she had earlier. A short

sentence, written in the neat script she'd grown accustomed to over the past

months.

Meet me at oh-eight. You 'II know where.

"I will?" Jani turned over the scrap and examined the back for any clues she

had missed during previous examinations. "Why the mystery, Colonel? And why

the rush? We're meeting for lunch tomorrow—can't this wait?" She folded down

one of the corners, then unfolded it—the weighty paper still rustled like new.

"Pale green—that's the color Commerce is using for their official documents

this year—" She stilled. "The Commerce Ministry."

Now she knew where she had to go, All that remained was to find out why.

Jani crossed the pedestrian overpass that spanned the twelve-lane Boul Mich,

Chicago's main thoroughfare, and entered the lakeside sprawl of government

buildings, parkland, and open land known as Cabinet Row. She reached a vehicle

dispatch platform, and boarded a Commerce Ministry people-mover amid a group

of green-clad employees. After everyone sat, the lumbering conveyance began

its slow float down the wide walkway toward the kilometer-long Ministry main

building. As it approached a subsidiary gate that led to a small employee

park, Jani stood. The vehicle stopped, and she disembarked.

Jani watched the roofless vehicle resume its glide toward the Ministry proper.

Then she pressed her hand to the gatekeeper square; the device scanned her

palm, and the gate swung open.

Colonel Niall Pierce stood near the entry, talking to a younger man in

lieutenant's gear as he pointed to a late-blooming hybrid rose. Like Lucien,

he wore mainline dress blue-greys, but no fairy tale Jani could think of would

have claimed him as its hero. In contrast to the prince's clean, broad brow

and high cheekbones, this weathered pretender possessed a narrow visage,

sun-battered and lined, the appearance of length accentuated by the scar that

cut the left side of his face from the edge of his nose to the corner of his

6 Kristine Smith

mouth. Young blond was replaced by old bronze; springy fitness gave way to

wary tension.

Only his eyes spoke to the humor in the man. The warm gold-brown of the

richest honey, they hinted at depths of emotion that Lucien had never

experienced.

Niall straightened when he heard the gate slam shut. "Captain." He touched his

fingers to his forehead in a modest salute. "That'll be all, Pull," he said to

the lieutenant. "Meet you back at the skimmer."

"Sir." Pull snapped a salute, then turned to Jani. "Ma'am."

Jani nodded. "You're new."

"Lieutenant Randal Pullman, ma'am." The young man blushed. Since he was a

pink-skinned redhead, the rouging made it appear as though he'd just popped

out of a boiler. "Good morning." He backed away, his smile wide and fixed,

then turned and clipped down the walkway that led into the Ministry.

"I've been telling him about you." Mall's voice twanged, middle-pitch and

sharp, lower-class Victorian blunted by years spent on other worlds. "Suffice

it to say that you have a new admirer." He moved from the rose to an autumn

hydrangea, lifting one of the bloom-heavy branches to his nose.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." Jani wandered a wide semicircle until she stood

beside him. He pushed the branch toward her and she bent to sniff the blooms,

which were brilliant purple with a heavy, spicy-sweet scent. As she did, Niall

released the branch and stepped away. Jani had flinched once when he

accidentally touched her. Since then, he took care not to remain close to her

for too long.

"Why not?" He drew up straight and locked his hands behind his back. "The work

you did at Rauta Sheraa Base was admirable; even twenty years later, it

manages to impress. And that flaw you found in Transport Ministry docking

protocols was a marvel of critical analysis."

"Niall, I was forging manifests for a smuggling operation when I uncovered

that flaw." Jani paused, then looked up from the flower. "I don't think I ever

told you about that, did I?"

LAW OF SURVIVAL 7

Niall hesitated. Then he jerked his chin toward the garden entry, and sniffed.

"Pretty Boy waiting for you?"

"No, he's on his way back to Sheridan." Jani picked a shriveled petal from one

of the blooms. "I didn't tell him I was meeting you, but he knows something's

up. Don't be surprised if you get back to Sheridan to find someone had checked

into your whereabouts this morning."

"Isn't he the crafty one?" Niall sneered, his damaged lip accentuating his

disgust. "Is he still. . . dating that father of four who runs the Justice

Ministry Appeals Division?"

"Yes, and a few others as well. I've explained to you before—I don't mind.

That way, he doesn't get bored, and I get a few nights a week to myself."

"You call that love?"

"You know I don't. I never did. Between Lucien's essential nature and

prototype augmentation, he can't love anyone. My ... experiences have taught

me the value of his sort of outlook. He doesn't know how to ask for what I'm

no longer prepared to give. We have just the relationship we want."

"I think you're doing yourself a disservice."

"Can we please cut to the chase?" Jani backed away from the shrubbery until

she stood in Niall's path. "What's going on? You didn't go through the trouble

to break into a sealed Treasury Ministry documents case in order to lecture me

about my personal life, did you?"

Niall reached beneath his brimmed lid to scratch the top of his head. Then he

readjusted the braid-trimmed hat to its former dead-on level, and brushed a

speck of nonexistent dirt from the front of his tunic. "Ever been to Tsing Tao

Station?" He tugged at his own expert marksman's badge. "Biggest shuttle

transfer station in the Pearl Way, last stop before you hit the Gate Way and

enter La Manche, the Channel Worlds—"

"I know what it is." Jani watched him take great care to look everywhere but

at her. "A few years ago."

"Four and a half?"

"Yes. Four and a half."

"Just passing through, or did you work there for a time?"

8 Kristine Smith

"I did a few odd jobs to earn billet money. Same as I did at every other

station I ever passed through. I think I stopped over there for a total of six

months."

"Five." Niall yanked a brown leaf from the branch of a late-blooming rose.

'"Kill anybody while you were there?"

Jani studied him for any sign he joked. She'd learned to spot the hints over

the months of their acquaintance—the narrowing of his eyes, the working of his

jaw as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. But she couldn't

find them this time. Unfortunately. "No, I didn't."

CHAPTER 2

"Let's walk out to the lake, where we can talk in private." Niall led Jani

through the garden, past a triplet of clerks who had intruded in a flurry of

giggles and whispers. They exited through the rear gate, which opened out onto

the beach.

Jani shivered as the lake breeze brushed her. It was because of what Lucien

referred to as her condition, she told herself. It had advanced to the point

that she only felt comfortable in heat most people found oppressive. Her

discomfort had nothing to do with Niall's questions. Nothing.

She trudged after him across the combed sand to a bench set at the edge of the

breakwater. As always, he waited for her to sit first before lowering beside

her, an unthreatening arm's length away.

They sat in silence. Overhead, seagulls swooped and screamed. On the water,

Commerce lakeskimmers glided in silent patrol. Niall reached into the inner

pocket of his tunic and pulled out a flat silver metal case. He shook out a

nic-stick through the slotted opening and bit the bulbed end— the ignition tip

flared orange as it contacted the air.

Jani watched him smoke. He didn't do it often, she had noted, but he did it at

very specific times. When he felt particularly agitated or troubled, or as he

tried to screw up the courage to talk about what he called their "shared

experiences."

"When to the sessions of sweet, silent thought I summon up remembrance of

things past." Niall leaned forward, elbows on knees, and studied the 'stick's

glowing tip. "Shakespeare's Sonnet 30." He looked out over the water, his

voice

9

10 Kristine Smith

so soft that the gulls threatened to drown him out. "I keep meaning to lend

you the sonnets."

Jani folded her arms and tucked her hands up her sleeves. Her fingers felt

like ice chips. "Tsing Tao Station, four and a half years ago. After a run of

janitorial gigs, I managed to scrounge a non-Registry clerk's job for one of

those seat-of-the-pants shipping companies. I don't even remember the name."

Niall exhaled smoke. "Mercury Shipping."

Jani watched the side of his face and waited for him to explain how he knew

that. When he remained silent, she continued. "A brother-sister outfit. One

rebuilt shuttle and a time-share lease on a thirty-year-old transport.

Constant repair bills, high turnover, and the low-pay, bottom-feeder jobs that

the bigger firms never touch."

"Sounds like the sort of outfit that might turn to a bit of smuggling to meet

the payroll." Niall had wandered the wild side of the Commonwealth before

deciding on the Service straight-and-narrow; his voice held the quiet sureness

of someone with experience in the subject.

"Most of the time, smuggling was the payroll." Jani flinched when a gull

screamed. "One thing led to another, and we got on the wrong side of a

Treasury Customs agent. Not an official investigation—he'd just turn up

unexpectedly and ask to see our records. Did that a few times. I figured he

was trolling for a payoff, but he never got around to asking."

"He never got the chance. About the time he started digging into the inner

workings of Mercury Shipping, he noted in his personal log that he began

receiving threatening messages. He saved the paper ones." Niall took a deep

pull on his 'stick—the dose ring moved halfway up the shaft. "Two station-days

after the date on the last message, his body was found in his flat. Throat had

been cut. One station-day after that, you upped and disappeared."

"I had my reasons, in case you've forgotten." Jani shivered as a bout of

chills took hold. "Niall, what's going on?"

Niall again reached into his tunic, but instead of his silver box, he removed

a folded-over documents slipcase. "1 found this waiting for me in my mailbox

this morning. After I read it, I figured I'd better pass it along." He handed

her the slip-

LAW OF SURVIVAL 11

case, then reached into his tunic and once more pulled out his 'sticks.

Jani slid aside the closure and removed several pages of weighty, brilliant

white Cabinet-grade parchment. "A joint ministry effort," she said as she

searched the gold-bordered documents for a ministry ID code and didn't find

it. She flipped back to the face page and read the summary header.

"Commonwealth White Paper. Security Risk Evaluation— Jani Moragh Kil—" She

fell silent as she found herself looking at a list of dates and page numbers

arranged like a table of contents. Next to each date was the name of a city,

or a settlement, or a station. The first page contained years one through five

of her eighteen years on the run; the second page, years six through twelve;

the third, years thirteen to the present.

"There's a data wafer tucked into a pocket inside the slip-case," Niall said.

"It contains the full report. Names of companies you worked for, in what

capacity, what sorts of... business you engaged in. Interviews with coworkers,

acquaintances. Ex-lovers."

"I—" Jani swallowed a curse as her stomach cramped. She'd been doing so well

on her new enzyme therapy—it hadn't ached for weeks. "I guess I should have

expected this. I just didn't think it would turn up so soon." She tucked the

papers back in the slipcase. "When do you need it back?"

Niall shook his head. "Keep it. There's plenty more where that came from."

Jani tucked the slipcase in the pocket of her jacket. "It's in general

circulation?"

"In the various upper reaches, from what I could gather. PM got a copy. All

the Ministers and their deputies. Security chiefs. It's been out for a week or

so. Took a while to filter down to me, seeing as I'm on the second team."

"So the Admiral-General's office got one?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Mako have anything to say?"

"About what you'd expect."

Jani watched the dapple of sun on water. It calmed her enough to make her feel

that things weren't as bad as they seemed. Almost. "I ran because I couldn't

afford to be inter-

12 Kristine Smith

viewed, not by trained criminal investigators. You know the drill. First would

have come the encephaloscan, which would have revealed my Service

augmentation. That would have given them just cause to call in a physician to

perform a phys exam. After they'd found my animandroid arm and leg and all my

other unique identifiers, they'd have assumed 'deserter' and moved on from

there. Before I could whistle the first verse of The Commonwealth Anthem, they

would have uncovered the Service warrant for my arrest."

"You could have stalled them."

"You think so? I don't know if you recall the last time we both met with Mako,

but I don't interview particularly well."

"Really?" Despite the mood, Niall grinned. "Bit of a smart aleck, are you?"

The expression wavered when Jani didn't respond. "Well, like you said, you

expected it. How do you plan to counter?"

"Depends how bad it gets, and it could get pretty bad. I falsified shipping

and receiving records. Stole scanpack parts. Reset credit chits. An entire

host of Level A Registry offenses, any one of which could get me deregistered.

Then there's my bioemotional restriction. If some psychothera-peutician

decides my past behavior is an indication of future problems, they'll try to

stick me in some type of permanent wardship. At the very least, they'll

maintain the operational restriction—I won't be able to carry a shooter or

drive a skimmer for the rest of my life." Jani stood and stepped to the edge

of the breakwater. It was a short drop into the cold churn, only a couple of

meters. The drops were always shorter than you thought.

"Maybe it's not as gruesome as you think." Niall's voice sounded rough

comfort. "Read it first, then figure out what you need to do." Service tietops

scraped on scancrete as he joined her at the edge. "I'll help in any way I

can."

"Yeah." Jani gasped as her right calf cramped—her muscles tightened when she

sat for too long. "I need to walk."

They strode along the breakwater until it ended, then followed the slope of

sand down to the manicured shore. Gulls scuttered ahead of them, waiting until

the last moment before taking to the air. In the distance, Commerce employees

on break played a game of three-cornered catch.

LAW OF SURVIVAL 13

Jani relaxed. She always felt better when she moved. Her limbs, both the real

right and the animandroid left, adjusted readily to the shift and slide of the

sand. "I wonder who drove it. The investigation."

"I hate to say it, but I'm betting it was someone on my team." Niall passed

her and walked a little farther up the beach. "They probably started out

gathering the evidence for your court-martial. When we medical'd you out

instead, they wrote the report anyway. One thing Intelligence spooks hate is

to let good garbage go unused." He kicked at a pile of pebbles, then picked

one up and flung it into the water. "You've got your enemies at Sheridan, you

know. They thought you should have been tried for Neumann's death, no matter

what led up to it."

"I did shoot him, Niall."

"You had your reasons."

They headed back up the beach toward the Ministry. Jani slowed to give Niall a

chance to catch her up. "Mako giving you a hard time about being seen with

me?"

"A couple of closed-door talks. Reminders of 'the current conservative

climate.' " Niall shrugged. "I remind him that you've got more experience

dealing with the idomeni than anyone in Diplo, and that some of your

recommendations over the past few months have saved us from some godawful

blunders. He understands." His voice held quiet conviction, but he had

followed where Admiral-General Hiroshi Mako led for over twenty years, and

felt that the sun rose and set by order of the great man.

Jani didn't. "Niall, I'd bet my scanpack that Mako helped set this up."

'Wo, he didn 't." Niall's voice lowered to a warning growl. "It's the Base

Command desk jockeys that are causing the trouble. The same ones that want to

nail you for Neumann."

"Have they been reminding you of the current conservative climate, too?"

"Yeah. I hand them a little Milton, a little Shakespeare, tell them in my

Master of Literature way to butt out. I don't interview particularly well,

either."

Jani slowed more as Niall labored to keep his footing on the loose sand.

"Don't screw yourself over on my account."

14 Kristine Smith

"You'd do the same for me if I got into trouble. I've seen you in action,

remember?" He pulled up, removed one of his shoes, and tapped out sand that

had leaked in. "I'm going to dig into this when I get back to Sheridan. See if

I can find out who signed off on the expense reports." He brushed an invisible

smudge from the black tietop's glassy finish, then slipped it back on. "You've

got enough going on right now without dealing with this."

They walked in silence. Jani grew conscious of Mall's examination—he tried to

hide it, but he never succeeded for long. "If you want to say something, I

wish you'd go ahead and say it."

Niall drew closer until they walked shoulder to shoulder. "Earlier this

summer, I was a shade taller than you. You're taller than me now. When are you

going to stop?"

"No one knows. The average Vynsharau grows one-nine to two-oh. I'm

one-eight-two." Jani held her hand a handspan above her head to indicate how

much she could still grow. "John says I might not get as tall as that, being a

mixed breed. But even he's ready to give up on the predictions." She heard her

voice grow tight. The anger built on its own now, no matter how she tried to

suppress it.

"Your eyes look different." Niall leaned in for a closer look. "You've filmed

them green! They were always so dark before."

"Neoclona's developed a new color-dispersive film just for me. What's

underneath has darkened to green marble. I have nightmares about a film

fissuring when I'm out in public."

"They look nice now, though. Stuff seems to work." Niall hurried ahead of Jani

as they mounted the breakwater and cut through the rear yard of the Ministry.

"I thought they were looking into the possibility of making you all-human

again?" He held open the back gate leading into the garden and waved Jani

through ahead of him.

"John did call in Eamon DeVries last month." Jani fielded Niall's look of

confusion. "Eamon's the third member of the Neoclona Big Three. He's distanced

himself from the company in recent years. You don't hear much about him."

LAW OF SURVIVAL 15

Niall's brow arched—he'd detected the sharpness in her voice. "You don't seem

sorry."

Jani shrugged. "I despise him. He despises me. He did his best to persuade

John to declare me dead at the site of the transport crash. He'd heard that

the Service had begun investigating Neumann's murder, and he knew they'd be

looking for me. Because of the hybridization research he and John and Val had

gotten up to in the basement of the Rauta Sheraa enclave clinic, he knew they

couldn't afford to attract attention." And she had attracted attention. Many

were the hours she had spent huddled in utilities chases while Val persuaded

the Service investigators that Jani Kilian no longer existed. "Almost twenty

years had passed since Eamon had seen me." Jani paced a circuit of the small

garden. "First thing he says as he walks into the examining room is, 'Why

aren't you dead yet?' "

Niall braced against a tree, removed his shoes one at a time, and tapped out

more sand. "Bet he didn't say it in front of Shroud—ol' John would've killed

him."

Jani smiled. "I never figured you for a John Shroud fan."

"I'm not." Niall brushed off his socks and slipped on his shoes. "Val Parini's

all right. The doctor you see most of the time—Montoya—he seems sound. I know

Roger Pimentel likes him."

"How is Roger?"

"Fine. Still Chief of Neuro, but the workload is wearing him down. He made

vague noises about retirement when I saw him last week. Asked how you were."

Niall shook his head. "We could spend all day talking about our doctors,

couldn't we?" He watched Jani walk with the sharp eye of the experienced

medical amateur. "So?"

"So, after Eamon examined me, he hunkered down with John and Val. They

concluded that any attempt at retooling would most likely kill me." Jani

stopped in front of a bird feeder and unplugged a stopped dispenser with her

finger, sending a thin stream of birdseed spilling to the ground. "Sometimes

that doesn't sound like such a bad risk."

"You can say things like that to me—I understand. But remarks like that tend

to make psychotherapeuticians ner-

16 Kristine Smith

vous." Niall gathered up a handful of the spilled seed and tossed it to some

squirrels that foraged in the grass. "Trust me—I know what I'm talking about."

Jani gripped the feeder post and swung around to face him. "How did your last

check-up go?"

"About as you'd expect." Niall flung more seed with such force that the

squirrels scattered. "Get your augmentation removed—the risks of depression

and psychosis outweigh the benefits. Yes, we know it could save your life in

case of severe injury, but if the injury resulted from the fact that you just

slashed your wrists, define the benefit please, Colonel. Cut back on the

workload, take a vacation, transfer to another area. At least no one suggested

retirement this time." He brushed off his hands and cut across the garden to

the front gate. "Need a ride home?"

Jani tagged after him. "No, I'll take public. I've got to go to the embassy

later. Sitting in a people-mover and watching the city float by helps me

think."

"More fun with diplomacy?"

"Yeah."

"If I don't hear from you in a week, I'll send in an assault team." Niall once

more cut ahead of her as they came to the gate so he could hold it open for

her. "The Cup semifinals are set for next week. Acadia Central United's

playing Gruppo in the first match."

"United got Desjarlais back just in time." Jani shivered as her body once more

decided it was cold, and closed her jacket fasteners up to her neck. "The

government will go nuts if a colonial team wins the Cup. They're afraid that's

all it would take for some of the more rebellious colonies to attempt to

secede from the Commonwealth."

"That's ridiculous."

"You're a colony boy, Niall. You know better than that. It's all about

politics, even when it's not."

Niall sensed that she didn't feel like talking football. "Heard from your

folks?"

"Yeah." The 'mover that would take Jani back to the walkway drifted up to the

stand. "They've gone to stay with Oncle Shamus at his lodge near Faeroe

Outpost. I guess he needs help with his systems again."

LAW OF SURVIVAL 17

"You guess?"

"They're not being real forthcoming. I'm wondering if times are bad in Ville

Acadie, and they needed to sell the business."

"Times are never bad for systems installers."

"Well, something's wrong." Jani stepped aboard the open-topped 'mover and took

a seat near the rear. "I don't think they're comfortable talking to me. Maybe

they don't think it's any of my business."

Niall shot her a "let's have none of that" look. "Or maybe Shamus did need

help. Sometimes the answers really are as simple as they seem." He stepped

back as the 'mover pulled away. "I'll look into that report."

"Thanks."

"Take it easy." Niall smiled his crooked smile and again touched his forehead.

"Captain."

"Colonel." As Jani returned the salute, she felt the slip-case jostle in her

jacket pocket, and tried to forget it was there.

Jani changed people-movers three times on her way home. As she had told Niall,

sitting and watching Chicago drift past her window helped her think.

Unfortunately, she couldn't control what she thought about.

They got me. She felt the slipcase every time she moved, saw the gleam of the

white parchment sheets, heard their crackle as she had unfolded them under

Mali's concerned eye. / wonder how long it took them to uncover it all? When

did they start? Last winter, when they realized that I lived? Or did they wait

until the summer, when they had me in hand?

The six-lane tumult of the Boul Mich Sidebar gradually veered lakeward,

narrowing and quieting into the tree-lined elegance of Chestnut Street. Jani

looked through the branches to the establishments beyond ... the glass-walled

terrace of the restaurant where she and Lucien had dined the night before...

the shops in which they'd debated other presents for her clients. Jani hadn't

realized that she needed to worry about presents for her clients until Lucien

had broached the subject. Her comment that considering the way

18 Kristine Smith

they ran her ragged, the presents should all flow in her direction had fallen

on unsympathetic ears. You're in the big city now, Lucien had said. We do

things differently here.

"Do you?" Jani stood as the 'mover slowed to a stop. "Could've fooled me." The

only difference she had been able to discern thus far between the wilder

colonies and the Commonwealth capital was that life in Chicago required more

paperwork. And, at times, even more caution.

She disembarked and headed north, crossing Chestnut and turning onto the even

more rarified gentility of Armour Place. Her goal rested in matronly repose in

the middle of the block, a twelve-story sanctum of safety and security.

Eighty-seven fifty-six—a sedate, marble-faced building with a live doorman

and, according to Lucien, a century's worth of Family secrets buried within

the walls.

Secrets .. .

/ have secrets. Jani's step slowed. The funny thing is, some of them are

common knowledge. But still they 're ignored, denied, not talked about, in the

hope that they 'II disappear. A peculiarly humanish habit, one the idomeni

mock.

My name is Jani Moragh Kilian, late of the Commonwealth Service. One of the

conditions of my discharge disallows me from using the title Captain, Retired,

but that's what I am.

Just as John Shroud resurrected me and rebuilt me as he saw fit, so my past

has been gutted and reconstructed for the benefit of the few. What remains

speaks to the facts, but the truth lies elsewhere. I tried to speak the truth,

and they called me crazy. Now I stick to the facts, and bide my time.

Jani shook herself out of her grim reverie as she approached her apartment

house, eyeing the entries of the buildings directly across the street. She did

so mostly out of habit, but partly from unease. The small multilevel chargelot

seemed quiet as usual. The commotion echoing from the building next door to

it, however, scuttled the gracious ambience the avenue usually projected.

Bangs and clangs, interspersed with the occasional muffled boom of a pinpoint

charge and the whine of heavy-duty construction machinery.

LAW OF SURVIVAL 19

The gutted former residence would soon twin its neighbor across the way—twelve

stories of marble enclosing thirty of the finest flats money could rent. In

the meantime, the carefully preserved white facades sheltered scaffolding,

equipment, workers, and building materials sufficient to convert the shell

into a hive.

Jani ducked beneath the low-hanging awning that sheltered her building entry

and nodded to the morning doorman, who keyed open the triple-width door. The

thick, ram-resistant scanglass swept aside and she stepped into the lobby, a

low-ceilinged space filled with expensive furnishings, paintings, and

sculpture. The sudden hush as the door shut behind her made her feel, as

always, as though she'd been locked inside a vault.

She walked to the front desk, her shoes sinking to the ankle in the

sound-deadening carpet; fellow residents passed her, their greetings muted, as

though they spoke in church.

"You're back, Mistress Kilian." Hodge the manager smiled a subdued greeting.

"Confound the racket across the way."

Jani sighed as she accepted the pile of paper mail he produced from beneath

the desk. "Confound it, indeed."

"Not much longer." Hodge's voice held a hope-filled lilt—he'd mistaken her

dismay at the amount of mail for weariness with the noise. "The rededication

is scheduled for Thanksgiving weekend." He grew subdued. "Armour Eight Seven

Five Five. Seems a rather dull name." He was a slight, older man with a

schoolmaster's air. He'd worked in the neighborhood all his life and felt the

changes like a father watching his children grow.

"Well, at least they're preserving the facade." Jani tucked the mail under her

arm and looked out at the bustle across the street. "But for the noise,

they're remarkably self-contained. You never see the workers."

"There are restrictions regarding these matters, to minimize the impact on the

neighborhood." Hodge frowned. "But I have seen things. The workers are

supposed to use a contractor lot three blocks west, near the University Annex.

20 Kristine Smith

But I believe they sneak vehicles into our garage to avoid the walk."

"Imagine that." Jani bit back the comment that if she'd been in their place,

she'd do the same thing. But that was a colonial sentiment, and she lived in

the Commonwealth capital now. As Lucien said, they did things differently

here.

CHAPTER 3

The lift deposited Jani on the sixth floor. She walked to the last door at the

end of the carpeted hall and keyed into her fiat. The door slid open to reveal

the large sitting room, an expanse of bare bleached wood flooring, unadorned

off-white walls, and uncurtained windows.

Jani walked to her desk, the sole piece of furniture in the space, and pushed

aside a stack of files so she could deposit her mail. Compared to the rest of

the room, the desktop looked as though it belonged to another person. Masses

of documents in multicolored folders and slipcases covered the surface from

end to end, abutting her workstation on three sides and all but burying her

Kristine Smith - Kilian 3 - Law of Survival

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: