Burden of Proof
Jool discarded, drew from the deck, and smiled. Perhaps the most disconcerting aspect of playing Bacria with the Kinfea was his eyes. She could not tell if he was looking at her, or looking at the disks in his hand. With nothing to distinguish between pupil and iris, the solid orbs of white appeared blind to her. Jool sensed Cabmauri's gaze more then anything else.
"You are indeed an expert player."
"A high compliment coming from a Master. Even a dishonest one." She placed a red disk on top of a green one.
Cabmauri answered her play with one of his own, but it was not enough to win the hand. "I do regret my deception."
"Really?" Jool's expression displayed total disbelief. "As long as you get what you wanted from all this, I imagine you will find a way to live with the shame of it all."
Cabmauri chuckled, shaking his head. "Another game to break our tie?"
"It has been two solar days." Jool was not bored of the game. She was wildly worried at having heard nothing from Crichton and D'Argo. She could care less about the Nebari bitch, she told herself.
"Yes," agreed Cabmauri. He gathered the Bacria disks and began to shuffle them.
"You said it would take less then twelve arns."
"Yes," Cabmauri said again. Keeping his gaze toward the table, he began to distribute the cards for another game.
Breath caught in Jool's throat. "Is there something wrong? Do you-." It was an effort to force words past her lips. "Do you think something has happened to them?"
His head lifted, leveling a blank white stare in her direction. He appeared to debate how, or even if, to answer. Finally, Cabmauri nodded. "I would forget about your companions."
Jool wanted to get out of her chair, but was not sure if her legs would support her weight. What she felt went beyond a somber realization she would be stuck here if her shipmates did not come back. She had developed feelings for them, as much as she had tried not to. Losing her hand was secondary to losing the people she cared about.
"Would it be so terrible," Cabmauri said, standing slowly. "To stay here with me?"
Her mouth hung open in surprise. "You never expected them to come back. Why would you give them such a valuable cargo if you expected to lose it?"
Cabmauri directed his gaze toward the table. "There is no crime on Kinfea Prime. As long as the appropriate taxes are paid, everything is legal. Including the smuggling of Mabry Crystals. But if you cannot afford the bribes Legal Authority demands, then you are subject to the strongest penalty the law will allow. It has become too expensive to pay the fees and hire the crews needed to fly the shipments to Gital Deep. I was able to save a great deal of currency by using off-worlders."
"But if they don't return with the payment for their delivery, you have gained nothing."
"I have gained nothing for a long time. Every shipment has been stolen. Every crew has been lost." He smiled, shaking his head before turning around to the window. "At first, I suspected pirates. Then betrayal by allies. When I sent your friends, I included something more with the shipment. A tracking beacon. Now I know the truth."
"And Crichton and the others? You know what happened to them?"
Cabmauri returned to where Jool was sitting and knelt beside her. "From what I've learned, there is no possible way your friends are alive. And even if they are, they will not remain so for long. There is nothing you can do. I am sorry."
Fierce determination straightened Jool's spine. "Yes, there is. If you return my comm to me, I can at least try to contact them. Perhaps with Pilot's help we can-"
"I can not allow it. The risk to you would be great. To both of us."
She had to do something. Jool could not sit idly by and she refused to entertain the thought of spending her life on this pile of dirt. Her gaze fell upon the Bacria cards spread out on the table. "Then a wager."
Cabmauri tilted his head. "What sort?"
"One game. If I win, I get my comm back and you will help me find my friends."
"And if you lose?"
She lifted her chin in defiance. But as the words formed on her lips, uncertainty put a waver in her voice. "Then I will stay here with you."
***
D'Argo was finally asleep, back to the wall, arms crossed over his chest, chin down. John envied him. He was exhausted but there was no way he was going to get to sleep. Something about sitting on the floor in a nearly empty room made him think about Gammak bases and Aurora Chairs. Made his nerves sing like crickets on a calm summer night. That sort of thing kept the Sandman away.
John gazed down at the still Nebari, watching every breath that made her chest rise and fall. Wishing he knew just one thing that would make it all right again. He couldn't watch another friend die. Leaning his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes.
"You think I make it harder on myself, Harv?"
"Undoubtedly." Harvey stood on a miniature golf green, lining up his shot with a child sized plastic putter.
"You're not helping."
"You so rarely take my advice, John. I wonder why I give it at all. Or better yet," he said as he swung the club. "Why you ask."
John clicked his teeth together, watching the ball disappear between the twirling blades of a small-scale windmill. He walked around as the bright blue sphere come out the other side and drop into the hole. "Nice shot."
"Thank you." Harvey made a mark on his scorecard.
John bent to scoop the ball out of the hole. "I ask for your advice 'cause it usually gives me a good idea of what not to do."
"I am not the malicious creature you so often mistake me for."
"Right." John dropped the ball into Harvey's leather glove. "And Stephen King writes nursery rhymes."
"Your insistence that life is precious is honorable. Yet ultimately foolish. You exist in a universe that does not listen to reason or care. And frankly, your pacifist morals are hypocritical considering the amount of blood on your hands."
John's jaw tensed. "What's your point?"
"While you go out of your way to preserve the lives of everyone you encounter, whether deserving or not, you fail to see what it does to those closest to you. Or even to yourself. When did strangers become more important then your friends?"
"Advice?"
Harvey set the ball on the green and extended the putter to John. "Shoot first. Live long enough to question it later."
"You're a regular Dear Abby."
"I'm also ahead by two strokes."
There was a noise at the door and John's eyes snapped open. At some point during his conversation with the neural clone, he must have dozed off. Or dreamed the whole thing. It was getting harder to tell. Just a little bout with schizophrenia. Call him Son of Scorpius. As he rose, he pulled the pistol from his thigh holster and edged toward the door.
D'Argo had also woken at the sound, standing with Qualta Blade drawn. His fingers flexed around the sword's hilt as he gave John a nod to show he was ready.
John reached forward and unsecured the latch that locked the only door to this room. Tionar stepped through quickly, carrying a metal canister in one hand. He smiled, unfazed by the less then warm reception from his anxious guests. "I have brought food."
John and D'Argo relaxed, putting their weapons away. "Hey, Tio. You really need to think about gettin a couple La-Z-Boys in this place."
The Kinfea smiled as he crouched in the middle of the room. He began to pry the lid from the canister. "How is your ally?" he said with a nod toward Chiana.
"No change." John knelt beside Tionar and looked at the contents of the metal cylinder. "What is that?"
Tionar held up several reddish stalks that reminded John of the rhubarb his grandmother used to grow. "Dedlak Root."
"So what's the word?" John held one of the Dedlak to his nose and took a hesitant sniff. He jerked his head away at the sulfur smell. "Aw, man. You gotta be kiddin'"
Tionar grinned at John's reaction and reached into his shirt. He pulled out a slim flask. "Drink this first. The roots will taste sweet."
"Were you able to stall the Houses from acting against Bonyon?" D'Argo paced behind the Kinfea, watching John sample the liquid in the flask. Every movement of his warrior's body displayed his impatience. Each glance toward Chiana betrayed his worry.
"I spoke to them and they are willing to wait for a short time. No one wants war. But the evidence points to House Daul. His betrayal of Vieo calls for swift retribution."
"The evidence points too perfectly to Bonyon."
Tionar nodded in John's direction. "He is the only one with anything to gain."
"Yeah, and I'd feel better about it if I thought the boy wanted to gain anything."
D'Argo frowned at John, turning his gaze toward the Kinfea. "What about Dartoi?"
"Legal Authority has no jurisdiction here. His involvement is questionable. The Council sees no reason why he would be a factor."
John put the Dedlak root back into the canister, deciding not to risk his stomach. His head tilted to the side as he considered the situation. "What if he's trying to get a bigger piece of the pie? Pad his pension."
Both Luxan and Kinfea stared at him blankly. Finally, Tionar ventured a guess. "You believe Dartoi took your transport?"
"Yeah. He knew Cabmauri was smuggling these Mabry Crystals. Maybe getting the occasional bribe wasn't enough anymore. He wanted in on the business. Be where the profits were."
"Except there is no way he could have known which transport to steal," said D'Argo. "Unless someone gave him specific information. The theft occurred too swiftly."
Tionar nodded agreement with the Luxan. "Which would indicate House Mudest was in league with Dartoi."
"But why?" John wasn't comfortable shifting the blame from one unknown to another.
"To discredit Bonyon." Tionar appeared to sense the Human's hesitation. "The original motive is the same as before. With House Daul dishonored, there would be one less hand asking for payment."
"Maybe." John pinched the bridge of his nose before letting his fingers run across the ridge of his eyebrow. "We're missing something here."
"Yes. Our transport pod and the money to exchange for Jool."
He raised his eyes at the accusation in D'Argo's voice. His words took on that hard tone he didn't remember having until just recently. Since Aeryn and that other guy left. "And we're not likely to get any of it back until we figure this all out."
"It's obvious that we have been Cabmauri's pawns since the beginning. We need to go down to the planet and retake Jool by force. Like we should have in the first place."
"You're not turning this back around on me, D'Argo."
"What are you two arguing about now?"
Both men turned toward the weak voice. "Chiana." D'Argo was the first to her side. He took her hand, swallowing it whole inside his own.
"Hey, little girl. You had us worried. How ya feel?" John knelt beside her, opposite D'Argo. The argument could wait. Now that Chiana was awake, he could blame someone else for what happened to her. He just needed time to figure out who that was.
"Like I was kicked in the chest by a Martag." She tried to grin but managed only a shadow of her typically mischievous smile. "Where are we? What happened?"
"There was an explosion at Vieo's compound. Your friend pulled us from the rubble and brought us here." D'Argo's voice could be incredibly gentle. It amazed John sometimes.
Chiana looked toward the Kinfea standing nearby. "You again."
Tionar grinned and bowed his head. "We are even now. A life saved for a life saved."
"So when do we get outta here?" Chiana struggled to sit up, grimacing as the motion pulled at her wound. When the blanket that covered her naked torso slipped to her waist, D'Argo reached for it and drew it close around her shoulders.
"You need to rest," John said.
"I'll rest better on Moya." She leaned into D'Argo for only a moment, still determined to move under her own power.
"Well. Things have gone pear shaped around here. Space ports been closed and there is no way off the moon. So you've got time to heal a little more."
"Fine." Chiana lay back down on the blankets. She looked at John and winked. "Told ya I needed new clothes."
***
Tionar slipped out under the pretext of retrieving medicine and clothing for Chiana. He had not necessarily deceived the others more then omitted the truth of his excursion. It would have been pointless for them to learn it now.
The streets and walkways were crowded, which suited Tionar perfectly. The more people around him, the harder a target he became. Although a truce had been called between one set of Houses and the other, it was a tenuous armistice. Since Vieo's death, there had been spurts of retaliation. Both sides claimed the right to settle the score with no one claiming responsibility.
He found the building claimed by the Council and waited impatiently while guards searched him. "I am expected."
The security detail ignored his protests until they were sure he carried no weapons and posed no threat. "Proceed."
Tionar hurried down the hall to the meeting chambers and paused just outside the door. If he failed to convince the Council, he would not get another chance. And might possibly lose his life.
The room beyond the door was capacious, swathed in light that cast irregular shadows over the high ceiling. A long table straddled the center of the chamber, filled on one edge by stern faced chieftains of Gital Deep's Houses.
Tionar bowed his head, keeping his hands respectfully crossed before him as he waited to be acknowledged.
A female at the center of the table finally addressed him. "Have you brought the mercenaries?"
"No," Tionar said. "I do not intend to place them within your custody."
A low murmur rippled among the Council, but the voices were too indistinct for individual words to be heard. "But it has been agreed," said a male at one end of the table. "The mercenaries will be charged with the attack upon House Alendar."
"They are not responsible. This I am sure of."
"Do you know who is at fault?"
"I suspect," Tionar said. "But I do not have proof."
"Without proof, the Houses will not allow an accusation."
"But the mercenaries are innocent.
"It is irrelevant. There will be war among us unless restitution can be made. It is far better to sacrifice these strangers then risk further confrontation."
"But-"
"It is agreed," reminded a harsh voice from the table.
Tionar drew a breath and raised his chin. "This is the will of the Council?"
"It is."
"Then I request a boon, as is my right."
"Ask," the female said.
"Their execution will be swift. And painless." It was all he could do for them.
"Granted."
Jool discarded, drew from the deck, and smiled. Perhaps the most disconcerting aspect of playing Bacria with the Kinfea was his eyes. She could not tell if he was looking at her, or looking at the disks in his hand. With nothing to distinguish between pupil and iris, the solid orbs of white appeared blind to her. Jool sensed Cabmauri's gaze more then anything else.
"You are indeed an expert player."
"A high compliment coming from a Master. Even a dishonest one." She placed a red disk on top of a green one.
Cabmauri answered her play with one of his own, but it was not enough to win the hand. "I do regret my deception."
"Really?" Jool's expression displayed total disbelief. "As long as you get what you wanted from all this, I imagine you will find a way to live with the shame of it all."
Cabmauri chuckled, shaking his head. "Another game to break our tie?"
"It has been two solar days." Jool was not bored of the game. She was wildly worried at having heard nothing from Crichton and D'Argo. She could care less about the Nebari bitch, she told herself.
"Yes," agreed Cabmauri. He gathered the Bacria disks and began to shuffle them.
"You said it would take less then twelve arns."
"Yes," Cabmauri said again. Keeping his gaze toward the table, he began to distribute the cards for another game.
Breath caught in Jool's throat. "Is there something wrong? Do you-." It was an effort to force words past her lips. "Do you think something has happened to them?"
His head lifted, leveling a blank white stare in her direction. He appeared to debate how, or even if, to answer. Finally, Cabmauri nodded. "I would forget about your companions."
Jool wanted to get out of her chair, but was not sure if her legs would support her weight. What she felt went beyond a somber realization she would be stuck here if her shipmates did not come back. She had developed feelings for them, as much as she had tried not to. Losing her hand was secondary to losing the people she cared about.
"Would it be so terrible," Cabmauri said, standing slowly. "To stay here with me?"
Her mouth hung open in surprise. "You never expected them to come back. Why would you give them such a valuable cargo if you expected to lose it?"
Cabmauri directed his gaze toward the table. "There is no crime on Kinfea Prime. As long as the appropriate taxes are paid, everything is legal. Including the smuggling of Mabry Crystals. But if you cannot afford the bribes Legal Authority demands, then you are subject to the strongest penalty the law will allow. It has become too expensive to pay the fees and hire the crews needed to fly the shipments to Gital Deep. I was able to save a great deal of currency by using off-worlders."
"But if they don't return with the payment for their delivery, you have gained nothing."
"I have gained nothing for a long time. Every shipment has been stolen. Every crew has been lost." He smiled, shaking his head before turning around to the window. "At first, I suspected pirates. Then betrayal by allies. When I sent your friends, I included something more with the shipment. A tracking beacon. Now I know the truth."
"And Crichton and the others? You know what happened to them?"
Cabmauri returned to where Jool was sitting and knelt beside her. "From what I've learned, there is no possible way your friends are alive. And even if they are, they will not remain so for long. There is nothing you can do. I am sorry."
Fierce determination straightened Jool's spine. "Yes, there is. If you return my comm to me, I can at least try to contact them. Perhaps with Pilot's help we can-"
"I can not allow it. The risk to you would be great. To both of us."
She had to do something. Jool could not sit idly by and she refused to entertain the thought of spending her life on this pile of dirt. Her gaze fell upon the Bacria cards spread out on the table. "Then a wager."
Cabmauri tilted his head. "What sort?"
"One game. If I win, I get my comm back and you will help me find my friends."
"And if you lose?"
She lifted her chin in defiance. But as the words formed on her lips, uncertainty put a waver in her voice. "Then I will stay here with you."
***
D'Argo was finally asleep, back to the wall, arms crossed over his chest, chin down. John envied him. He was exhausted but there was no way he was going to get to sleep. Something about sitting on the floor in a nearly empty room made him think about Gammak bases and Aurora Chairs. Made his nerves sing like crickets on a calm summer night. That sort of thing kept the Sandman away.
John gazed down at the still Nebari, watching every breath that made her chest rise and fall. Wishing he knew just one thing that would make it all right again. He couldn't watch another friend die. Leaning his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes.
"You think I make it harder on myself, Harv?"
"Undoubtedly." Harvey stood on a miniature golf green, lining up his shot with a child sized plastic putter.
"You're not helping."
"You so rarely take my advice, John. I wonder why I give it at all. Or better yet," he said as he swung the club. "Why you ask."
John clicked his teeth together, watching the ball disappear between the twirling blades of a small-scale windmill. He walked around as the bright blue sphere come out the other side and drop into the hole. "Nice shot."
"Thank you." Harvey made a mark on his scorecard.
John bent to scoop the ball out of the hole. "I ask for your advice 'cause it usually gives me a good idea of what not to do."
"I am not the malicious creature you so often mistake me for."
"Right." John dropped the ball into Harvey's leather glove. "And Stephen King writes nursery rhymes."
"Your insistence that life is precious is honorable. Yet ultimately foolish. You exist in a universe that does not listen to reason or care. And frankly, your pacifist morals are hypocritical considering the amount of blood on your hands."
John's jaw tensed. "What's your point?"
"While you go out of your way to preserve the lives of everyone you encounter, whether deserving or not, you fail to see what it does to those closest to you. Or even to yourself. When did strangers become more important then your friends?"
"Advice?"
Harvey set the ball on the green and extended the putter to John. "Shoot first. Live long enough to question it later."
"You're a regular Dear Abby."
"I'm also ahead by two strokes."
There was a noise at the door and John's eyes snapped open. At some point during his conversation with the neural clone, he must have dozed off. Or dreamed the whole thing. It was getting harder to tell. Just a little bout with schizophrenia. Call him Son of Scorpius. As he rose, he pulled the pistol from his thigh holster and edged toward the door.
D'Argo had also woken at the sound, standing with Qualta Blade drawn. His fingers flexed around the sword's hilt as he gave John a nod to show he was ready.
John reached forward and unsecured the latch that locked the only door to this room. Tionar stepped through quickly, carrying a metal canister in one hand. He smiled, unfazed by the less then warm reception from his anxious guests. "I have brought food."
John and D'Argo relaxed, putting their weapons away. "Hey, Tio. You really need to think about gettin a couple La-Z-Boys in this place."
The Kinfea smiled as he crouched in the middle of the room. He began to pry the lid from the canister. "How is your ally?" he said with a nod toward Chiana.
"No change." John knelt beside Tionar and looked at the contents of the metal cylinder. "What is that?"
Tionar held up several reddish stalks that reminded John of the rhubarb his grandmother used to grow. "Dedlak Root."
"So what's the word?" John held one of the Dedlak to his nose and took a hesitant sniff. He jerked his head away at the sulfur smell. "Aw, man. You gotta be kiddin'"
Tionar grinned at John's reaction and reached into his shirt. He pulled out a slim flask. "Drink this first. The roots will taste sweet."
"Were you able to stall the Houses from acting against Bonyon?" D'Argo paced behind the Kinfea, watching John sample the liquid in the flask. Every movement of his warrior's body displayed his impatience. Each glance toward Chiana betrayed his worry.
"I spoke to them and they are willing to wait for a short time. No one wants war. But the evidence points to House Daul. His betrayal of Vieo calls for swift retribution."
"The evidence points too perfectly to Bonyon."
Tionar nodded in John's direction. "He is the only one with anything to gain."
"Yeah, and I'd feel better about it if I thought the boy wanted to gain anything."
D'Argo frowned at John, turning his gaze toward the Kinfea. "What about Dartoi?"
"Legal Authority has no jurisdiction here. His involvement is questionable. The Council sees no reason why he would be a factor."
John put the Dedlak root back into the canister, deciding not to risk his stomach. His head tilted to the side as he considered the situation. "What if he's trying to get a bigger piece of the pie? Pad his pension."
Both Luxan and Kinfea stared at him blankly. Finally, Tionar ventured a guess. "You believe Dartoi took your transport?"
"Yeah. He knew Cabmauri was smuggling these Mabry Crystals. Maybe getting the occasional bribe wasn't enough anymore. He wanted in on the business. Be where the profits were."
"Except there is no way he could have known which transport to steal," said D'Argo. "Unless someone gave him specific information. The theft occurred too swiftly."
Tionar nodded agreement with the Luxan. "Which would indicate House Mudest was in league with Dartoi."
"But why?" John wasn't comfortable shifting the blame from one unknown to another.
"To discredit Bonyon." Tionar appeared to sense the Human's hesitation. "The original motive is the same as before. With House Daul dishonored, there would be one less hand asking for payment."
"Maybe." John pinched the bridge of his nose before letting his fingers run across the ridge of his eyebrow. "We're missing something here."
"Yes. Our transport pod and the money to exchange for Jool."
He raised his eyes at the accusation in D'Argo's voice. His words took on that hard tone he didn't remember having until just recently. Since Aeryn and that other guy left. "And we're not likely to get any of it back until we figure this all out."
"It's obvious that we have been Cabmauri's pawns since the beginning. We need to go down to the planet and retake Jool by force. Like we should have in the first place."
"You're not turning this back around on me, D'Argo."
"What are you two arguing about now?"
Both men turned toward the weak voice. "Chiana." D'Argo was the first to her side. He took her hand, swallowing it whole inside his own.
"Hey, little girl. You had us worried. How ya feel?" John knelt beside her, opposite D'Argo. The argument could wait. Now that Chiana was awake, he could blame someone else for what happened to her. He just needed time to figure out who that was.
"Like I was kicked in the chest by a Martag." She tried to grin but managed only a shadow of her typically mischievous smile. "Where are we? What happened?"
"There was an explosion at Vieo's compound. Your friend pulled us from the rubble and brought us here." D'Argo's voice could be incredibly gentle. It amazed John sometimes.
Chiana looked toward the Kinfea standing nearby. "You again."
Tionar grinned and bowed his head. "We are even now. A life saved for a life saved."
"So when do we get outta here?" Chiana struggled to sit up, grimacing as the motion pulled at her wound. When the blanket that covered her naked torso slipped to her waist, D'Argo reached for it and drew it close around her shoulders.
"You need to rest," John said.
"I'll rest better on Moya." She leaned into D'Argo for only a moment, still determined to move under her own power.
"Well. Things have gone pear shaped around here. Space ports been closed and there is no way off the moon. So you've got time to heal a little more."
"Fine." Chiana lay back down on the blankets. She looked at John and winked. "Told ya I needed new clothes."
***
Tionar slipped out under the pretext of retrieving medicine and clothing for Chiana. He had not necessarily deceived the others more then omitted the truth of his excursion. It would have been pointless for them to learn it now.
The streets and walkways were crowded, which suited Tionar perfectly. The more people around him, the harder a target he became. Although a truce had been called between one set of Houses and the other, it was a tenuous armistice. Since Vieo's death, there had been spurts of retaliation. Both sides claimed the right to settle the score with no one claiming responsibility.
He found the building claimed by the Council and waited impatiently while guards searched him. "I am expected."
The security detail ignored his protests until they were sure he carried no weapons and posed no threat. "Proceed."
Tionar hurried down the hall to the meeting chambers and paused just outside the door. If he failed to convince the Council, he would not get another chance. And might possibly lose his life.
The room beyond the door was capacious, swathed in light that cast irregular shadows over the high ceiling. A long table straddled the center of the chamber, filled on one edge by stern faced chieftains of Gital Deep's Houses.
Tionar bowed his head, keeping his hands respectfully crossed before him as he waited to be acknowledged.
A female at the center of the table finally addressed him. "Have you brought the mercenaries?"
"No," Tionar said. "I do not intend to place them within your custody."
A low murmur rippled among the Council, but the voices were too indistinct for individual words to be heard. "But it has been agreed," said a male at one end of the table. "The mercenaries will be charged with the attack upon House Alendar."
"They are not responsible. This I am sure of."
"Do you know who is at fault?"
"I suspect," Tionar said. "But I do not have proof."
"Without proof, the Houses will not allow an accusation."
"But the mercenaries are innocent.
"It is irrelevant. There will be war among us unless restitution can be made. It is far better to sacrifice these strangers then risk further confrontation."
"But-"
"It is agreed," reminded a harsh voice from the table.
Tionar drew a breath and raised his chin. "This is the will of the Council?"
"It is."
"Then I request a boon, as is my right."
"Ask," the female said.
"Their execution will be swift. And painless." It was all he could do for them.
"Granted."