Chapter Forty-One

 

When we land, there’s a party of about two dozen Zantites waiting for us. We’re watching enhanced gritcast from inside the ship, and the group includes both Mertex and Fizzax.

Is that the jury? Are they going to execute Kaliel right there on the pavement?

“Kaliel.” I move over to him, take his hand in mine.

Brill stares at me, not even trying to hide the jealousy in his irises. And yet, he walks over to us and puts a hand on Kaliel’s other shoulder. “It’s not too late, su. We can turn this bread loaf around. I have friends that can hide you so long the Zantites get tired of looking.”

“I did not hear tat,” Tyson says.

Brill looks at him. “Don’t tell me you aren’t thinking the same thing. This isn’t justice, and you know it.”

Tyson puts his hands on the big trackball, like he’s actually considering leaving. Then he shakes his cabeza. “Te law is all tat holds society together. And I cannot break te trust put in me to uphold it.”

Brill looks at Kaliel. “I liked it better when I thought he was a hypocrite.”

“It’s OK. I agree with him.” Kaliel takes a deep breath, and I can’t help but wonder how many of those he has left. “It sucks. But I agree.” Then he looks at me. “Don’t give up hope.”

I squeeze his hand. “Lo siento.”

He grips mine back. “I said, don’t give up.”

I stare at him. I thought he’d been taking this all too calmly. “You have a plan.”

“It’s a long shot.” Kaliel stares at the door. He has to be holding onto every moment, trying to freeze time before he steps out there. “You guys know the truth. That may have to be enough. Since I probably won’t be able to, tell Kayla…” His voice breaks. “Tell her I wanted to give her my grandmother’s ring.”

“Suavet ita hanstral,” Brill says. I am so very sorry. “But we’re running out of time to get to Minda’s set before the Mindhugger executes its plan. We have to open the door.”

“Right.” Kaliel straightens his posture, moves closer to the door.

Brill gives him a closed-fisted salute. “Safe journey and true heart, Kaliel.”

Kaliel hesitates. His journey is going to be anything but safe. He can’t know how much that means, for Brill to bid farewell to him not only as an equal, but as a close friend. Kaliel smiles. “Thanks.”

Tyson lets down the ramp, and the group outside bring weapons to bear. It’s not quite dawn, so they’re indistinct outlines against the light coming out of the saucer. The air is cool, the first bit of color smearing the sky. A night insect clicks, rhythmic and alone, somewhere nearby. It promises to be a heartshatteringly beautiful day.

Brill adjusts the body armor under the collar of his tee. He made me put mine on too. Who knows what the Mindhugger has waiting for us? “You do realize if Tyson puts us down as the ones who turned Kaliel in, we’re getting half the reward. It’s about five times what we got for Jack.”

I still haven’t figured out when a Galactacop can or can’t claim a reward. I remember Tyson once saying he wasn’t about to turn bounty hunter.

“I don’t want blood money,” I shudder.

Brill shrugs. “Let’s make sure we use it for something he would have approved of.”

Kaliel holds up his hands as Tyson walks with him down to meet them. Brill and I follow. Tawny’s right on our heels, ready to tackle me if I say anything she doesn’t like.

I told Brill what she said. He’d gotten her alone and flat out asked her if she’d sent another recommendation he be assassinated, and she said she hadn’t. Yet.

Kaliel gets to the bottom of the ramp, and the Zantites form a circle around him.

Police Chief Dghax steps forward. “Mr Johansson, you killed nine people on this planet. For that you are to be executed. Have you any complaints?”

He’s going to say no. And then he’ll die.

Kaliel says, “I do. I dispute the charges, and ask for a civilian trial under the Cadmar Treaty. I am a citizen of a planet protected by the Galactic Court, and therefore eligible. I also request a complete medical and psychological examination, as other medical treatment has uncovered a growth in my brain that may have impaired my judgement.”

Tyson is nodding along. He’s obviously coached Kaliel. Fizzax and Mertex are also nodding along. What’s going on here?

Dghax’s mouth falls open. He looks at Tyson. “Are you going to represent him?”

Tyson shakes his head and points at Tawny. “She is.”

Tawny looks just as shocked as I am.

“This will take some hours to arrange. That type of trial requires the presence of those who have been wronged by the crime in question.” Dghax looks troubled. “Will you waive the right to complain of mental anguish due to the delayed judgement and to being detained under threat of execution?”

“I willingly waive such rights.”

They all nod at each other, and Kaliel walks away with them. He looks back, once, staring at Tyson, and it’s light enough out now to catch the intensity of his gaze. Tyson coils down his spine, back to his resting height. Somehow, he seems even shorter, like the weight of Kaliel’s final request is pressing down on him. I understand how he feels. We have no leads. So how are we supposed to find Kayla?

“Wait up!” Tawny hurries after them. “Apparently I need to talk to my client!”

I look over at Tyson. “So how come I never heard of this treaty, mijo?”

He plays with the angles of his mouth. “Because most of te time, it’s just delaying te inevitable. You have to be able to claim an interplanetary misunderstanding. And it doesn’t apply to cases involving military law, or directly involving te king, so if I had invoked it for you aboard the Layla’s Pride, tey’d have just laughed.” He can’t have forgotten that call from Garfex, asking him personally to find Kaliel. Tyson’s just not mentioning it to the potential executioners, since Garfex didn’t bother to show up for this. Tyson gets the kind of trial he wants, without actually lying to anyone. He so should have been a lawyer.

Brill asks Tyson, “Do you think it will help this time?”

Tyson shrugs. “If not, at least it keeps Tawny from itching our scales, which is hot springs fizzy wine delicious.”

Brill’s scanning the spaceport. “There isn’t easy public transport here.”

We don’t have time to call a cab.

“Mertex!” I call.

Murry stops, waits for me to catch up to him.

“Por favor, can we get a ride to Minda’s set? It’s urgent.”

Mertex’s eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“We can explain on te way,” Tyson says, as we head towards Mertex’s vehicle.

Tyson takes the seat next to Murry, while Brill and I slide into the back. We give him an abbreviated version of what’s been going on – one that doesn’t mention that the people in the process of sabotaging Minda’s show are infected by brain parasites.

I feel guilty. Who knows how far the infection has spread? People really should be warned.

But if I speak the truth, Brill and I probably both wind up on HGB’s hit list.

Mertex looks alarmed enough, as he sucks in air through an open mouth, showing off all six billion pointy teeth. “Why didn’t you call and tell me this?”

“We tried,” I protest. “The phones are down.”

“All of them?” Murry pulls his own phone out of his pocket. “Then how did Dghax know for us to meet your saucer?”

“I spoke to him shortly after we left Evevron.” Tyson’s tilting his mouth in again, pero Mertex doesn’t seem to notice how troubled he is. “I wanted to emphasize tat Kaliel was coming in peacefully. I didn’t want any misunderstandings on te tarmac.” Tyson hesitates. “But I told you tat when I called you, remember?”

Mertex laughs. “Oh, right.” He looks at his phone. I catch a glimpse of the castsignal gauge. It’s topped. Pero, he says, “That’s weird. But it makes me feel better. Because, you see, Minda and I went on a date yesterday – just coffee, nothing serious – and I was starting to freak out that she hadn’t called me back yet.”

You know how when people are lying, they tend to talk real fast and add unnecessary details? Murry’s doing that. We don’t have to see the bruise on his skin to know he’s infected, pero there it is, on the back of his wrist.

The sun’s up now.

We’re going fast down a highway.

Tyson unbuckles his seatbelt.

Brill glances down to make sure my seatbelt’s on. I brace myself, not sure what’s about to happen. Tyson’s armed, pero if he’s concerned about not hurting the victim here, he’ll be careful with Murry, right?

Mertex puts on his blinker. He’s heading away from the set. He puts one hand down on the seat beside him, and it comes up holding a weapon.

Tyson lunges at him.

The tires squeal, the wheel jerks, and my stomach lurches as we angle off the road, bumping our way through a field of haraggaha plants, the purple pulp splattering our windshield as we mow it down. Ay!

Mertex and Tyson are fighting in the front seat, grunting and cursing, as we careen out of control. Mertex flails an arm, and the front driver-side door flies open. Mertex flips Tyson up, like he’s trying to bite the Galactacop in half, pero Tyson turns the momentum into a forward roll that pulls him out of the door. He takes Mertex with him.

I’m frozen, for a shocked second. That’s all it takes for Brill to get his seatbelt and squeeze between the two front seats. Pero, before he can manage to punch the brake in a configuration sized for a Zantite, we burst through the last row of sugar plants and hit a ditch, which jolts us to a stop. My seatbelt engages so hard it takes my breath away. Brill’s cabeza comes close to the windshield, pero doesn’t go through it.

He looks miraculously unhurt when he slides back through the seats. “Babe, you OK?”

“Sí.” I try to unbuckle the seatbelt. The buckle’s jammed.

Brill takes out his pocketknife. He’s still cutting through the strap when Tyson drags Mertex up to us.

The Galactacop blinks, and one of his translucent eyelids looks discolored.

Brill nods downwards, at the busted axle. “This thing’s not going anywhere.”

Tyson hefts Mertex back into the vehicle. “Yeah, well neiter is he.”

I can’t tell if Murry’s breathing.

Tyson pulls out a couple of zipties and starts fastening Mertex’s wrists and ankles, threading the tie-ends through either side’s door frame. Tension melts out of my shoulders. At least the guy’s alive.

The car’s trunk got thrown open in the crash, and there’s a dent where something heavy hit it on the way out. Not far away, in the middle of the sugar plant pulp, there’s a familiar metal lock box.

Eh? It’s the one those Zantites had salvaged from the wrecked Evevronian ship. Why would Mertex have that? Unless… maybe it means something to the mindworms.

The lock broke open on impact. The guys are busy with Mertex, so I take a quick look inside. Amazingly, this box had remained watertight for almost a decade. There’s a locket, engraved in Evevron. I can’t read the inscription, pero inside, there’s a paper picture of Awn on one side – and of an infant Evevron on the other. There’s also a packet wrapped in red paper that looks suspiciously like explosives. And a holo-keychain showing the image of Chevros. And stacks of papers I can’t read. And a gun.

I close the box. This belonged to one of the minds that had made up the first tier of the mindworms. Pero, Awn had never made it onto that ship. What does that mean?

Is Awn part of the mindworm? Or was it in love with her?

“Shouldn’t we just deworm him?” Brill asks.

Tyson pats his jacket pocket. “We need to ask his parasite a few questions. I’ve got a stimulant shot tat should pull him back to consciousness.”

“We’re already running out of time,” I insist. “You talk to him. We’re going to look for another ride.” I hesitate. “Remember, that’s not the parasite’s body, right, mijo?”

Tyson looks at me with distaste. “You know me better tan tat, Bo.” Then he looks at Brill. Brill’s eyes go a confusing tannish-green-gray color. Tyson looks away, embarrassed.

“Come on, Babe.” Brill starts walking, in the opposite direction of the road. “There has to be a farmhouse somewhere back here.”

We’re even farther away now from Mamá and Minda. Frustration burns through me.

And still, mi vida is hurting. I take his hand, doing my best to keep pace with him. “Are you going to be OK?”

“You know what? I think I am.” Brill looks down at me, smiling sadly. “I told Kaliel not to be mad at the parasite. I’m the hypocrite, if I can’t let this go. Darcy’s dead, but so is the su who got him killed. Ven let the dead blame the dead.”

“Te amo, mi vida.” It’s taken a lot to get him to this point. I hope he really can find peace.

“Love you too, Babe.” He squeezes my hand.

Soon, we find a complex that is more full-on sugar-processing plant than farmhouse. There’s a row of tanker trucks off to one side. I guess they process some of this stuff as syrup. Looking at them, Brill’s eyes turn green.

“Are you planning to borrow one of those?”

“Not without permission.” Brill makes a face. “Can you imagine the punishment for auto theft on this planet?”

I shudder. “Probably about the same as for everything else.”

“Wait here and look lost. Like you might cry or something. You used to be an actress.”

I know he meant it as a compliment, pero pain spikes through me that is almost physical. I was supposed to have been a star, but my short career had crashbanged so hard I’m still trying to climb out of the emotional crater.

Brill starts talking to a couple of guys standing near the complex’s door. He mimes something crashing into a divot – our truck hitting that ditch. He points over at me. They talk for a couple more minutes, then something changes hands and Brill walks back to me, holding a set of keys.

“They let you borrow the truck, mi vida?”

“Only after I bought the cargo.” Brill pulls the tanker’s steering wheel down as low as it will go and adjusts the seat all the way forward. He still looks like a ten year-old trying to drive his dad’s truck, barely able to see over the dash, and stretching his legs out from a position perched on the edge of the seat. “They charged me about twice what it’s worth.”

By the time we take the long road around to where we went off course, Tyson is standing at the edge of the field, waiting for us. He’s holding the case of dewormer.

“Where’s Mertex?” Brill asks.

“I left him attached to te car.”

Mi vida nods at the dewormer case. “You didn’t do it yet?”

Tyson hands him the case. “You had more questions for te last one. He will be waiting for you when we come back.”

“We should take him with us now.” Brill strides into the field. “And I want his phone.”

“I agree.” I follow mi vida.

Pero, when we get to where we left the vehicle, it’s been rocked over on its side, and the passenger door – now the upper door – has been ripped off its hinges and cracked apart where the tie had been threaded through it. Brill’s looking at the door, so I step up onto the side of the car and look inside. There’s no sign of blood, pero there is something silvery and clear shining at the edge where the driver’s side floor joins the door. My chest fills with ice. “Oye! Por favor no.”

I swallow fear around a lump in my throat, remembering Murry picking up the syringe of the Invincible Heart that I’d dropped in frustbarrisment. I climb into the car, pick up the syringe, and longing cramps my gut as I examine the small amount of inky residue swirled through with gold, like a secret galaxy that leads to power and euphoria and freedom from the shakes.

“Babe! Don’t!” Brill’s leaning into the car, looking down at me, and I realize I’ve brought the needle of the syringe right up to my arm. I drop it. Heat burns through me, starting with my eyes and nose, then flooding into my chest and arms. Poor doomed Mertex. I can’t help but picture him staring at the yellow bandage they’d put on my arm after I’d been injected with this stuff. You’ll tell me if it’s amazing, right? His stupid smiling, excited face.

A few tears escape. After a minute, I get it under control, and Brill helps me back out of the vehicle.

I run my sleeve across my nose. “He never would have done it.”

“Done what?” Tyson leans against the wrecked vehicle and uses the hard surface to scratch his back. I realize he doesn’t really know Mertex.

“Murry thought he was a coward. He once told me that the ultimate act of bravery was for a Zantite soldier to take a dose of the Invincible Heart.” Because, in the Zantite biological system, it is guaranteed death, after the euphoria and rage that fuel a mission have run their course. “He was fascinated with the stuff, pero he valued his life.”

“Which is not cowardice, by the way,” Brill puts in.

I nod. I’m already talking about Mertex in the past tense. Which is fitting, since he is a dead man walking – err, raging. “He never would have dosed himself.”

Brill’s eyes are pure mahogany sorrow. “The Mindhuggers still don’t understand what it means to be an individual. Think about how calmly it suicided one of its own parts inside Dashtin on board the Sunshine. And remember what Ekrin told it? Nothing you are will be lost. How is it supposed to understand what it means to lose everything that a single person is?”

Tyson looks somber. “What is it about Mertex Makanoc tat will be lost?

It’s an oddly philosophical question, coming from him. I guess finding out that someone got tortured on his watch – even if it was years ago – has really gotten to him.

I manage to keep the tears inside, at least for now. “He was such a geek. I never knew anybody as into movies y mas as he was. He even thought it was chido that time I kicked his butt. I was trying to kill him, and he was picturing it as an action scene fit for a cheesecast.”

“We can mourn him later,” Brill says. Though he pauses to offer the car a close-fisted salute. “Right now, we need to make sure the mindworms don’t use his teeth to leave us mourning anybody else.”

The box with Awn’s things is gone. Mertex must have taken it with him. There’s at least one individual these mindworms seem to care about. But why? Awn’s been dead a long time.

We trudge out of the field. The tanker only has one row of seats, and Tyson’s the best suited to drive it, so I find myself squashed up against Brill in the almost double-sized passenger seat. Mi vida’s body is warm against mine, even through the leather jacket and the body armor, and his arm around my shoulders is about all that is keeping me from dissolving. It feels like his heartbeat, hummingbird fast against my cheek, is somehow steadying my own, like the pendant in the bag at my feet’s supposed to do for a Krom.

We should all have some sort of visible sign like that, to show the world when our heart is breaking with grief.

I sniff. “You know how most lies have a kernel of truth?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“Well, I hope Murry wasn’t lying about having that date with Minda.”