"Is that him?" The security chief—Jay? Jason?—shook his head in disbelief. "He looks like a piece of meat."
Liara ignored him and stared through the glass as technicians bustled around John's body. It didn't look like John. Long, clear tubes protruded from his neck, arms and torso. His visible flesh was red and pulpy. She shivered. A piece of meat, indeed. Not a person. Certainly not her lover. "That's him." Her voice sounded faded and distant. She felt faded, wanted to lie down and sleep for a year. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to sleep for a long time.
"Commander Shepard. First human Spectre. Guy practically killed a Reaper. On foot! No wonder the boss is willing to spend a fortune to bring him back." Something dark and bitter crept into his voice. "At least Shepard actually does things. He's a hero."
That's not all he is. She wondered if the Illusive Man cared. She and John had spent two weeks together on the Citadel before the Alliance sent him to fight geth. It had been insane. Strangers stopped him in the store to ask for his autograph. The newsvids had been consumed with him. They all wanted to know about the famous Commander Shepard. How had it felt to kill Saren? What did he say to the accusations that he'd deliberately allowed the Destiny Ascension to be destroyed? Was he seeing anyone? They'd wanted to know all about the Savior of the Citadel, and by the time he'd left for the Terminus Systems, they'd thought they did.
They hadn't. Some dismissed him as the Butcher of Torfan: a bloodthirsty monster who had sent men to their deaths with a smile on his face and cared only for human advancement. Others, mostly human, hailed him as the exemplar of what sentient life could and should be. They envied the quickness and finality with which he dealt with problems. He was a hero or a monster or maybe both at once. No one seemed interested in the man. Except her.
The security chief was speaking again. "Wonder what the Illusive Man wants with him? I haven't been with Cerberus long, but I can tell you that he doesn't do charity cases."
Liara schooled her face into what she hoped was a neutral mask. "I haven't the slightest idea." Nothing pleasant, that was certain. She remembered the small army of creepers, rachni, and husks that she and John had been forced to fight through. Cerberus had murdered Admiral Kahoku to ensure their experiments would remain secret. They had injected an Alliance soldier with thresher maw venom just to see what would happen. John had called them murderers, traitors, and monsters. So they were. They were also the only people who were willing to resurrect him. They would demand payment for that, but not from her. She hoped he would understand. He loved her. He had held her in his arms after Noveria, had called her the only good thing in his life. He would forgive her for forcing him to work for Cerberus. Wouldn't he?
"Ah, Jacob. I thought I might find you here. Curious about our new arrival?"
Liara turned. Miranda stood in the doorway, her arms folded and a slight scowl on her face. She was paler than when Liara had seen her last and looked as if she too needed sleep. A lock of hair fell in front of her face. Liara fought the urge to reach out and brush it away. It seemed... unnatural somehow that anything should be allowed to escape from Miranda Lawson's control. She took a step forward. "I need to speak to Dr. T'Soni alone." Her voice softened and she looked at Jacob with something almost like amusement. "I promise you that you'll be seeing plenty of Commander Shepard."
"Right. I'm overdue for target practice anyway." He strode briskly out of the room.
Miranda moved to stand beside Liara. She watched the technicians working on John as if she saw such things every day. Maybe she did. She'd been casual about the violence on Omega, even cracked jokes about blowing a krogan's brains out. John had made jokes as well. He'd told her that it was either laugh or go crazy. All soldiers were like that, he said. The good ones, anyway. Liara didn't think she would ever be a good soldier. A good soldier would have found a way to save both Feron and John. John would have found a way. She closed her eyes. I should have been stronger. Next time, I will be stronger.
Miranda must have read the distress on her face because she rested a hand on Liara's shoulder. It felt warm and solid, and Liara relaxed slightly. "You did very well. Better than any of us could have hoped. I just wish I had better news to give you."
Liara's head snapped up. "Better news?" Her voice sounded faint, as if it came from inside a deep well.
"It's possible that we won't be able to restore Commander Shepard. Decomposition was far worse than I hoped." Contempt crept into her voice. "There were preservation systems in the pod, of course, but they were far from ideal. Closer to what you would use to refrigerate a piece of meat that to preserve a corpse."
And there was that word again. Meat. Liara jerked away and turned her back. It had all been for nothing. She had chosen to save John—no, his corpse—over a living, breathing drell. She had signed Feron's death warrant. Now Cerberus was telling her that they might not be able to bring John back? She hardly knew whether she wanted to laugh or punch something. "Then let the dead rest. Better to call the whole thing off than get your hopes up and drag out your disappointment. Dead is dead. You ought to have known better."
"Are you talking about me? Or yourself?" Liara heard the clatter of boots on metal. "The Illusive Man remains very hopeful about the prospect of success. We're willing to spend every credit we have to bring Shepard back. It may take years, but I promise you we'll try everything." She placed her hands on Liara's arms and gently turned her to face her. "It's true that no one has ever managed to bring back a human being who is quite as... damaged as Shepard. But there was also a time when humanity couldn't even travel to our own moon, let alone explore the galaxy. Now look at us. So don't you dare tell me that I shouldn't try."
They stared at one another. Miranda's eyes were dark, and she trembled slightly. She really did believe it. It must have been a human thing. Try anything, and damn the consequences. Commit yourself totally and completely to some impossible dream and worry about what would happen when you failed. Better to fail spectacularly than succeed mundanely, etc. "And what about Feron?"
Miranda's expression darkened and she took a step back. "The drell knew the risks when he offered to help us. I told you that we're putting everything into bringing Shepard back. We don't have the resources to mount a rescue effort. It's unpleasant, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. And Shepard is our best hope of defeating the Reapers. Feron is nothing to that. You and I are nothing to that."
Her voice was clipped and calm. Sacrifices must be made, but did Miranda have to be so calm about it? Feron had proved himself trustworthy in the end. He deserved at least a little of her grief. "So we leave him to the Shadow Broker?"
"We leave him to the Shadow Broker. If he's lucky, it will be a quick death." She frowned. "Quite frankly, the fact that the Shadow Broker was willing to hand over Shepard's body to the Collectors concerns me far more. He knows that the Collectors are agents for the Reapers. He has to. The Shadow Broker has always been mercenary, but there's mercenary and then there's insane. If the Reapers win, the Shadow Broker will be as dead as the rest of us."
"Then he should be stopped." Something cold ran through Liara. Knowledge was power. Fifty thousand years ago, the Reapers had used the census data and other information stored on the Citadel to hunt the Protheans to extinction. She had used her knowledge of the Protheans to help find the Conduit and defeat Sovereign. She, John, and the rest of the Normandy crew had denied the Reapers access to the Citadel's vast library of information. But if the Shadow Broker could be turned, that would be better than the Citadel. The Reapers would know every secret, every weakness in the galaxy. "Do you think it's possible that he was indoctrinated like Saren was?"
"Anything's possible." She looked genuinely disturbed by the thought. "If you are right, then we all made an even more powerful enemy that I thought. And Cerberus doesn't have the resources to stop him. I'm not sure anyone does."
Someone should try. "You said reviving John might take years?" So would taking down the Shadow Broker. Even if John despised her for giving his body to Cerberus, maybe he would forgive her if she eliminated the person responsible for attempting to sell his body to the Collectors in the first place. And if the Shadow Broker was working with the Reapers, she would still be doing her part to help save the galaxy. Her mother had been more than a powerful biotic. She had been well-connected. Powerful people old her favors—favors they would be more than happy to repay to her daughter. None of them would know the Shadow Broker's true identity, but one of them might know someone who knew someone who could provide the first clue.
"Let me put it this way: I wouldn't sit around here waiting for Shepard to wake up."
Liara almost smiled. "Don't worry. I won't."