Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

Harriet seemed taken aback by his ferocity. “Yes, we do—very much. But may I ask something first? Why was this information removed from the public record? Was it deliberately suppressed? Is there some raider influence here?”

McGinnis barked a laugh. He slapped a fist into his open palm and sat trembling. His lips barely moved as he whispered, “ Get… out of my… you little shit!” With a shiver, he said a little too loudly, “Sorry—yes—it was suppressed.”

McGinnis looked to Legroeder as if he were about to explode. “Who suppressed it?” Legroeder asked.

McGinnis spoke in halting words, as if against some resistance. “I cannot—tell you that—now. But I can tell you why—the lies were told—a hundred years ago, and still are, today.”

“Yes?”

McGinnis’s breath rasped. “Blame the enemies of the Narseil.”

“Excuse me?”

McGinnis seemed to gain strength, and his voice became almost normal. “Back then, there were those who wanted the Narseil blamed for the loss of a prized ship. It could have been any ship. But when Impris disappeared, the perfect excuse presented itself. Look at the Narseil and the Centrist Worlds. They were allies against the Kyber in the War of a Thousand Suns—until the end of the war, when suddenly they weren’t, anymore .”

Legroeder frowned. “That’s what the RiggerGuild library says. That it was suspicion that they’d destroyed Impris that ruined relations with the Narseil. But Impris wasn’t destroyed—I’ve seen it! It’s out there!” His pulse was racing now, with hope that he might finally learn what was behind the RiggerGuild lies. But why would anyone have betrayed the Narseil, and what could it possibly mean now, one hundred years later? What connection did it have to pirates using Impris as bait?

“Perhaps,” said McGinnis, “this would be a good time to show you what was known, until it was buried under the lies. Would you like to see the report of the inspector who investigated the ship before it disappeared?”

It took a second for the words to register. “ Before—?”

“That’s right. Impris ’s troubles started well before the time of her disappearance. Excuse me one moment.” McGinnis returned to the control console near the bar. He worked for a moment, muttering under his breath. Rejoining his guests, he said, “The materials will arrive shortly.”

When the library robot rolled into the room, bearing a large carton, McGinnis quickly cleared the table. “Some of this used to be on the public library systems, but it was purged long before the originals came into my possession. I was given these materials for safekeeping—”

“Why you?” asked Harriet.

“That,” McGinnis said sharply, “is something I’m not at liberty to speak about. Let’s just say they were safer with me.” He lifted a set of folders from the carton. “I’ve reloaded all of it on my own system, but these are the originals. Or as close as one can get. These are certified copies of the original investigation by the Space Commission—they were the forerunners of the present Spacing Authority—into the disappearance of Impris . And along with it, the old RiggerGuild investigation. They don’t entirely agree with each other—but neither one ascribes any blame to the Narseil.” McGinnis opened the top folder and took out several sheaves of mylar paper. “In fact, they don’t even mention the Narseil.”

Legroeder picked up the RiggerGuild document and held it gingerly, as if it might burn his fingers. What could possibly be in these old documents that would explain what had been done to him? For no clear reason, he felt a tingling sense that he was teetering on the edge of answers. Rigger intuition?

“If you’re wondering how the Narseil got implicated,” McGinnis continued, “it happened in a special report to the planetary governor—written by a political committee with virtually no rigging or spacing expertise. That’s in here, too.”

“Would you mind,” asked Harriet, “if we made copies of some of these documents?”

McGinnis hesitated, his brow furrowing again. “Copies,” he murmured, straining. “There are reasons… why I have not…” His breath caught, and for several heartbeats, he seemed unable to continue speaking. Then he hissed suddenly, “Yes, I’ll give you the whole damned collection on a cube before you leave. “But—” his gaze caught them sharply “—be aware, your possession of the information could make you a target.”

“It would seem that we’re already a target,” Harriet said dryly. McGinnis inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Legroeder touched an unopened folder. “What’s this?”

“That’s the Fandrang report.”

“Fandrang. That name’s familiar.”

“Gloris Fandrang. He was a shipping inspector, very highly regarded, before and during the War of a Thousand Suns. Later, he went into politics, but not here on Faber Eridani. He moved to the Aeregian worlds. Died in a flyer accident about ten years after he wrote this.” McGinnis shrugged. “At least, they called it an accident.”

Legroeder glanced at the paper. “And his report—?”

McGinnis opened the folder and laid out a number of holos, as well as a long text document. “This was never released to the public. It was the result of his investigation into the disappearance of Impris . But not just her disappearance. Fandrang had been looking into anomalous events reported by her riggers a dozen voyages before her disappearance.”

Legroeder felt a chill of fear. Why should a century-old event frighten him? “I hadn’t heard anything about that,” he whispered.

“I know. And when you read this, you’re going to wonder why you never had access to this information. Because there was something going on—probably is still something going on—that every rigger ought to know about.”

“Meaning—?”

“Dangers out there that you know nothing of. And yet you face them every time you rig.”

“If you’re talking about the raiders—” Legroeder heard his own voice trembling “—I think I know more about them than you’ll ever know.”

“Maybe.” McGinnis’s gaze didn’t waver. “But no, I’m not talking about the raiders.”

“Then what—”

McGinnis gestured to the table. “Read the report.”

Robert McGinnis watched with both dread and satisfaction as his two visitors settled in to study the materials. At last, it seemed, someone had come along to whom he could reveal the truth—and perhaps, entrust its safekeeping. There was no way to be certain, but his heart wanted to trust these two. And if they were being persecuted by the Spacing Authority and the Guild, then his heart probably knew best. Let them study the facts first, and delay as long as possible opening his own thoughts to them. Of course… there was no way they could possibly understand the danger they were stumbling into, and no way he could warn them without risking a total collapse of the charade he’d been carrying on all these years.

“You can read the text here if you want—” he touched a switch under the edge of the table, and two compads opened out of the tabletop for Legroeder and Harriet “—and then compare with the documents. Afterward, we can talk. Now, why don’t I go fix us a light dinner? I always eat early.” Legroeder and Mahoney nodded; they were already absorbed in the materials.

McGinnis retreated quietly, not so much to prepare dinner as to prepare himself for the next attack, which surely would come. All the signs were there: the anonymous message from the Elmira library just a few hours ago, advising him that two people had been looking for information on Impris ; and a separate warning, direct through his augments, that if a Rigger Legroeder and his lawyer came snooping, he was to turn them away. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to think much of the Impris investigation, and he’d found the warnings jarring at first—and then terrifying, once he’d examined the implications. Was the Impris matter about to be thrown wide open? Maybe he had insulated himself too well here in his enclave. He had indeed recognized Legroeder’s name from the news, but in his determined insularity had paid little heed to the actual reports.