Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

“Well—”

She popped the seal and squinted at him. “Let me guess. You think there’s a contradiction between the person you thought I was, and the person you’re afraid I am. Is that it?”

Legroeder didn’t answer. He took the wine bottle from her and studied it instead. The label was in an unfamiliar language. Where’d they get real wine here on Fortress Ivan? Did they have their own vineyards? It seemed unlikely. He handed it back and sat beside her on the edge of the bunk.

“Well, you’re right,” she said, pouring a glass and holding it up to the light. The wine had a robust claret color. Heaven knew what it was going to taste like, if it was home grown. She handed it to him.

Nervously, he took a sip, and at once felt depressed. It was much too good to be locally made. He was drinking the booty of piracy.

“YZ/I did all of the things you’re thinking of,” Tracy-Ace said. “And I’m guilty of complicity.”

“Yes?” he whispered, his voice choked off by pain.

“I’m no angel,” she said pointedly.

“But—” his voice caught “—you didn’t order—”

“Fleets out to raid shipping? No. But I worked with him; I’ve sentenced people to captivity; I can’t say I wasn’t involved.”

Guilty, Legroeder thought silently. He stared at the floor, his heart aching. And what were his needs, his secret agendas? What would he hate to admit to her?

For a moment, he wished desperately for the implant connection, so that he could get it all over with in one big exchange of confessions. A moment later, he was deeply, fervently grateful for the lack. Bad enough this way, he thought.

“YZ/I hates to admit it, Legroeder—but he’s tired of living this way. And I’m more than tired of it. Legroeder? I want the raiding to stop! YZ/I does, too—it’s just that his reasons are more pragmatic.” She waved her wine glass. “He’d say something like, ‘It makes us lazy—we’d be stronger if we made do for ourselves.’ ” She sniffed, and he couldn’t quite tell what emotion she was feeling.

“Do you believe that?” he asked.

“Sure, I believe it. But I also just want out of it . I’m sick of it.” She pressed her lips together, then said more softly, “ It’s wrong and I’m sick of it . Never mind the fancy reasons.” She gazed at him, and he suddenly realized that her implants were dark and her eyes were welling with tears. For a moment, she sat crying silently, her wine glass quivering in her hand. Wiping an eye on her sleeve, she whispered, “Before you came, I didn’t like it—but I wasn’t sure why. Then I caught a glimpse of how you see it, what you went through.”

Legroeder frowned. “But I didn’t show… did I show that to you?”

“Yes, you did. I don’t think you meant to. But I’m glad you did, because it showed me what was wrong.” She seemed about to say more, then shook her head and looked away with a sigh.

Legroeder’s heart ached. He took the glass from Tracy-Ace’s hand and set it, with his own, on the end table. He gently enfolded her in his arms. She sat stiffly, and for the first time in a while he remembered that she was taller than he was. Finally she softened and sank against him, putting her head on his shoulder, shaking as she let her feelings tumble out with her tears. After a while, she lay down with her head in his lap. He stroked her hair, saying nothing.

Not long after, he realized she was asleep. He gently stretched her out on the bed and pulled a cover over her. He sat watching her for the better part of an hour, thinking about what she had told him. Thinking about his own actions.

He didn’t know what he thought. That he had succeeded in his mission and become a hero? That he had sold out to pirates—and was now paving the way for them to colonize the stars? That he had fallen for a woman whose existence was so utterly alien that he was an idiot even to dream of a common ground between them? That he didn’t care, because he loved her anyway?

He lay awake for a long time; he lay in the near darkness beside Tracy-Ace, wishing he had his old pearlgazers to use as a focus to make sense of it all. Finally he pretended that he was with Deutsch and his gazing crystals, and he carried on a long dialogue with himself on a lighted stage, imagining his implants as silent spectators. He debated the merits of collaboration with the enemy versus fighting versus fleeing, and in the end, as the curtain closed, he fell asleep, exhausted, having decided nothing.

He woke just before Tracy-Ace did. As he was attempting to sort out his blurry morning thoughts, Tracy-Ace sat up abruptly and threw off the covers. “Uh—” he said, still trying to bring last night back into focus “—Trace, you okay?”

She turned her head to gaze down at him, as if she didn’t know why he was here. Her augments were flickering madly. She seemed to be light-years away. He sat up beside her. “Ace?”

“Hi,” she said. The powerlessness and self-doubt were gone from her voice, but he wasn’t sure what had taken their place. Her silver-green eyes were alert but distracted. She seemed to focus on him for a moment. “I have to go,” she said, jumping out of bed. “Something I’ve got to have out with YZ/I. Right now.” She glanced down, brushing at the clothes she’d slept in. She grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge, took a swallow and handed the bottle to Legroeder, then headed for the door.

“Ace, wait!”

“I’ll see you la—” And then the door clicked behind her, cutting off her voice.

Legroeder stared silently after her, turning the bottle slowly in his hands.

When she hadn’t called by lunchtime, Legroeder buzzed her quarters from his own, without success. He put in a general call for her on the intelnet, and got back a brusque message saying that she was in conference, and would he please get his ass to YZ/I’s operations center, if he could find it. He presumed the latter was a reference to operations, not his ass, so he headed off to the flicker-tube.

He found YZ/I and Tracy-Ace in the middle of a shouting match. Tracy-Ace was doing most of the shouting; actually, all of the shouting. “You say you want to change things, but you don’t have the guts to just up and do it, do you?” she yelled, striding back and forth like a pacing wildcat. YZ/I’s face showed only a low, emberlike glimmer. “I hear all this goddamn talk about shaking things up, but what you mean is you want to shake up just as much as you feel comfortable with! You want to be comfortable in your virtue, don’t you, YZ/I?”

“Hello, Legroeder,” said YZ/I, nodding.

“Don’t change the goddamn subject!”

“Legroeder’s here,” YZ/I said, pointing.

Tracy-Ace turned, startled, her temple implants going like crazy. “Legroeder. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“We were just—” Tracy-Ace shook an exasperated fist at YZ/I.

“So I gathered. Just out of curiosity, may I ask—”

“No,” Tracy-Ace snapped.

A flicker of light went up YZ/I’s face. “Why not tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Legroeder asked.

YZ/I answered. “That we’re inviting some people to leave if they want to, and sending them to Faber Eridani with you. People you might call… prisoners.”

“What?” Tracy-Ace screamed.

Legroeder looked back and forth between them in confusion.

“You mean you’ve been planning to do it all along? You lying, devious sonofabitch! You’ve been toying with me all this time, claiming you can’t do it because it would be admitting guilt!”