Sarah Zettel - Fool's War

Tully watched his own hands as he rubbed his palms together. Eventually, he seemed to make a decision. “I was just finishing off the hand-over procedures when the can blew. Dane was supposed to call in and give me a location where I could transfer the virus to. He called, with a text only connection. He said it was easier to hide. He offered to double my fee if I left the virus aboard Pasadena so it would get taken to The Farther Kingdom.” He shrugged and looked at the sealed hatch. “I wanted the money, so I said yes.” Tully wiped at his face, as if trying to rub off his stubbly beard. “I shouldn’t have done it. I tried to get back on board to get the thing off, but Schyler wouldn’t let me back on. I knew when I agreed to the job that I shouldn’t have done it, but, so help me God, I couldn’t go back to Ruqaiyya with nothing.” He turned pleading eyes toward Al Shei. “Will you tell her that much? Please?”

You cringing, cowardly, godless, sneak-thief! Al Shei wanted to scream at him. You’ve destroyed my whole world! How dare you pretend you still love my sister! How dare you miss her!

She tugged on her tunic sleeve. “I’ll tell her.”

Resit closed Incili’s case and stood up. “We’d better go,” she said succinctly. “I’ll look up your records, Cousin. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” Tully nodded. His gaze was still on Al Shei. “For everything.”

Al Shei couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She just turned and laid her hand against the hatchway reader. Because she wasn’t Tully, the hatch cycled back for her.

She strode across the threshold and out into the corridor. Letting the few people who had authority to be in a secured section make their way around here, she marched straight down the middle of the hallway.

She had gone into the meeting with Tully carrying the idea that Curran had blown out the can in order to kill Amory Dane. But now that idea had sprouted foul branches.

There was no reason for Curran to kill Dane. Curran could have just intercepted the real transmission and sent Tully a false one. He could have just impersonated Dane to Resit. He could have just faked the on-line visual ID to match his own. Resit wouldn’t have done a location check on him, not if everything had gone smoothly. But he blew out that can anyway. Killed two dozen people, injured almost a hundred, to take one life.

“Al Shei!” Resit called a second before she caught Al Shei by the shoulder. “Slow down!” She got a good look at Al Shei’s face and drew back. “And call home again, you’re about to burst a blood vessel from all this restraint.”

“That’s not it, Resit…” Tell her! You were all ready to tell the Management Union, why don’t you go ahead and tell your cousin-lawyer? Al Shei drew in a long shuddering breath. Because it was too much. She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to make it any more real than it was by repeating it to Resit. She didn’t want to risk her cousin telling her she was insane for believing Dobbs, who must have gone over the edge herself at some point. But she’d have to tell Resit. She’d have to tell everybody, and she’d have to do it soon.

Allah, forgive me, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid what will happen when the whole of Settled Space knows what I know. Dobbs had said the Fools would be hunted down. That was true, and that was probably the least of it, especially if she was right about what Curran had done. Networks would be slashed in fear of invasion. Even the Solar System might go the way of Kerensk.

She didn’t even try to finish the sentence to Resit, she just turned away and took a few more steps before she realized she didn’t know where she wanted to go.

Resit caught her shoulder again, more gently this time. “Call, Al Shei. Let me lend you the credit and call down there. Try to get somebody besides Uncle Ahmet. If he really is stonewalling you, you need to find a way around him.”

Al Shei nodded, not trusting her voice. Resit was right, if she didn’t at least try again, she was going to burst.

“Thanks, Cousin.” She squeezed Resit’s hand. “Next trip out you’ll get that retainer, all right?”

“Next time out I’ll settle for getting a little boring routine.” She flashed Al Shei a tired smile. “Get yourself a privacy booth. I’ll get back to my cabin and transfer down the credit.”

Silently blessing her cousin, Al Shei hurried down the corridor. If she remembered right, they had passed a bank outlet three levels down and two cans over.

Back in the public areas of the station, Al Shei had to wind her way through the crowds. She moved as fast as possible, giving out a constant stream of curses under her breath, for which she would have to do a dozen extra du’as as a reminder of the virtues of patience.

She made it at last. Inside the bank outlet, she breezed past the open desks and ducked into the last available privacy booth. It was a lot like the one she had used on The Farther Kingdom, but the chair was less comfortable and Port Oberon had no use for scented air.

Al Shei paused and considered who to call for. If she had one natural ally in the family at this point, it would be Ruqaiyya. She would be as desperate for news about Tully as Al Shei was for news of Asil. She wouldn’t want to hear about his house arrest though, or the condition he kept himself in. Al Shei bowed her head at the thought of her proud sister lifting her chin against that information and finding yet another excuse for her husband. But Ruqaiyya would want to hear Tully’s message for her. She would want to know that he was still alive and real and had not disappeared beyond all reach.

Al Shei wrote out the call request and called up her account. Resit had dumped in more than enough credit. Al Shei sent a silent thanks toward her cousin and transferred enough for ten minutes to Ankara and her family’s home.

Be there, Ruqaiyya. Please, Merciful Allah, let it be your will that she is home.

After ten agonized heartbeats, the screen cleared and Ruqaiyya appeared against a background of gold and turquoise tiles. Like Al Shei, she wore a hijab across her face. Above the veil, her eyes were smaller and more lined than her Al Shei’s, despite the fact that Ruqaiyya was five years younger than Al Shei.

“Peace be unto you, Sister.” Ruqaiyya looked tired, Al Shei realized. No surprise there, considering, but it still worried Al Shei to see it.

“And unto you, Sister.” She replied. “I’m calling…I wanted to let you know I’ve seen Marcus.”

“Oh?” Ruqaiyya’s eyes brightened a little. “How is he?”

Al Shei hesitated, briefly considering a kind lie. No. Ruqaiyya’d hear it in a second. “Not well,” she said. “He’s under some hard charges. Resit’s looking into it, but I don’t know what she’ll find…” A tear glistened in Ruqaiyya’s eye. Al Shei’s palms were damp. She wanted to yell at Ruqaiyya, just like she’d wanted to yell at her husband. How could you do this to yourself! You were so proud, so smart! How could you stay married to him! How can you miss that scum! “He asked me to tell you he did it because he couldn’t stand the idea of coming back to you empty handed.”

Ruqaiyya’s shoulders straightened themselves. “Of course,” she said blandly. She thinks he’s lying. Al Shei glanced down at her own hands against the boards. She doesn’t trust him. Pity for her sister hit her hard. Pity for the pride which Ruqaiyya wore like her hijab and that wouldn’t let her, even now, break away from him. Merciful Allah, what that must feel like, to love the past and be marooned in the present.

Al Shei drew a deep breath. “‘Qai, we think Marcus has been duped into this. We’ve got some…fresh evidence that we might be able to use if we can confirm that the sources are sound.” Hope shone in her sister’s eyes and Al Shei sent a prayer of forgiveness up for the things she did not say.