Shadowed Passage, page 8
"What about near my chapel. If I give you a time he was there?"
"That'd help. You take over. I've got to meet my team in private."
Slate gave her his seat and rested a hand on her shoulder. "You did well to tell me, Chels."
"I hope so. If not, Pious'll be taking my confessions until they leave Progress."
Slate left her alone on his platform and she started the search. Fifteen minutes later, she had an image. Unfortunately, it was near useless. Perry, if the figure was him, had raised his collar and worn a hood on his way to the chapel. The picture of his back leaving was less helpful. Neither image was good enough for the system-ware to track him further. She'd have to find him the hard way. By covering Progress in person. Again.
Chapter 15
Pious ascended the makeshift dais. His doubts ebbed in this role. The preacher mantle gave him life. In another time, he could've followed the role of priest serving a settled congregation. Nurturing their lives from birth to adulthood, counselling them when requested, offering hope and succor when needed.
His chosen path veered long ago from such a quiet clerical existence. This was his calling, looking for a nodal point in strangers' existences to provide guidance and faith in a moment. It required a special talent. Pious had the gift. Did Atone possess it? Pious must find out soon. He would let Atone try his voice out in the Eddy. Today, the crowd belonged to Pious. To re-engage where he'd left off months before on Progress.
He surveyed the attendees and waited for the nervous chatter to wane. Chels had done well as a place keeper. The assemblage was small, it didn't fill the space but their eyes and posture told him they were keen to hear his words. Reinforce and recruit.
"I recognize many familiar faces and thank you for the continued patronage." He'd ask for funds though he didn't need them this time. It made the givers feel they reciprocated his spiritual gifts.
"To those new to myself and the brothers, I welcome you. Whether your attendance is curiosity-driven or you seek an answer to the puzzle of existence on the frontier, you may find solace today or in the future within my words. I address each of you one to one." He ensured eye contact with each person while he spoke.
"I stand before you but not above you. This elevation is purely physical so all can hear my voice without me having to shout or mic." He cleared his throat to punctuate his point. "Never above you. If you were to hear my sins, you'd realize a man of the cloth has to make many judgments of situational necessity, not always of ethical necessity. My crimes of the soul are neither less nor more than yours, be assured. It is how I choose to compensate which is important. How will you compensate? How will you atone? The answer lies within you." He watched Chels at the edge of the circle nod with her eyes closed. He searched for the other, the confessor she'd exposed. Not present, Pious thought. He hoped the station-wide broadcast of this address reached that man in whatever sanctum he'd chosen.
"My conscience may not be clear, how many of us who've endured jumpspace nightmares can say otherwise?" Pious patted his chest with an open hand. "My conscience will never be clear but my heart is. Because I confide my sins in God, in friends and in colleagues. You have all of those available to you. I returned to Slate's Progress not solely to hear your confessions, nor to pass judgment on your transgressions. I returned to give you hope that you are never too far down the road to spiritual ruin that an act of correction can't reduce your guilt."
He'd given enough stick, now for the carrot. "I see despair in some of your faces." He softened his voice. "Do not be discouraged. Your presence, and those who are not present but listen and watch, tells me you care enough to seek a change. Don't hesitate. Turn to your friend, or to a stranger, or to me and my brothers. Most of all, turn to yourself. Forgiveness starts in here," he touched his chest again, "and here." He tapped his forehead.
The many eyes upon him were nervous, troubled. There was an uneasy current running through Progress. How could he disrupt the negative flow? Most were spacers. A common thread?
Pious coughed and swallowed the last of his water. "Jumpspace taxes the body and spirit. It divides the individual in two, splits perceptions, subverts loyalties. Its dark corners were not meant to be seen by our eyes. But we have opened that enigma and must learn to survive with its revelations. The key is within you." Pious touched his chest again. "Within all of us. Share your nightmares as well as your dreams. Look inside and ask, what can I give the sufferer who walks and ships beside me?"
He ended with a short prayer; an old invocation adapted over the centuries to spacer allusion. He saw DualE moving along the crowd's perimeter. Like him, she never wavered from duty. She possessed the single-minded intensity required for their respective roles. Could hers be transferred to a different cause?
The energy Pious felt when he'd entered the dome ebbed. The mind over matter struggle was always with him. Mind and spirit lost inevitable ground. He stepped to the deck and passed amongst the crowd, touching them as much for his own physical support as reassurance for them. "My brothers' ears are mine, we are one. Please seek them out while I rest for the next stage of our journey to the Eddy."
Atone, Cardinal and Remorse spread through the mass, giving heed to each person in turn. He clasped Chels' arm and escorted her back to the Penance.
"I'm weary, Chels. The jump from Argosy Station drained me. Would you man the Penance's airlock for me in case anyone comes forward?"
"Of course, Brother Pious. But I can't duplicate the guidance you would dispense."
He sat on a hard cot. "If you listen, that will be enough. I will meet any who wish in the tavern where you and I first met in one shift. We will raise enough funds for you to carry on our mission after the Penance leaves."
"You're going to the Eddy? Another jump? You may be reaching your limit. I know. I retired from spookspace a half dozen jumps too late. Don't let that happened to you."
"Good advice, Chels. As with most advice, I'll likely choose to ignore it for a greater purpose. Or greater in my mind. The hardest thing to admit sometimes is when the torch must be passed to better and stronger hands."
"You're not there yet, brother. You can carry on without deepsleep journeys weakening you."
He waved her to the 'lock and stretched out. Despite the personal strain, it had been a good sermon. Where and how would the fruit manifest from his labor?
DualE glided amongst the audience, alert for any threat. She searched for anyone fitting Perry's general description. If she found him, what were the next steps? Take him to Slate? Interrogate him herself? Who'd receive her information? Slate, Pious or Rowland?
Pious' words filtered into her. A clear conscience? Easy to purify through rationalization. Small transgressions in light of a greater good. Maintain truth within her heart? Tougher to weasel away the crimes. How many decisions made in the line of fire had brought greater good? Few. Decisions in those circumstances were about survival. Hers, her squad. Anything greater lost focus in the moment. The greater picture was for people like Rowland. Or Pious. Let them carry the burden.
Pious was right, the only judgment which mattered was one's own. She didn't look forward to her final encounter with DualE the judge.
A figure on the periphery caught her eye. Head covered but the size matched Chels' description of Perry. She lost the glimpse among taller people and he was across the atrium. She retraced her path behind the crowd. When she reached the spot, he was gone.
She chanced a quick look outside but the passageway was empty. If it was Perry, he knew the station better than she.
Pious' voice raised in pitch. He neared conclusion. She returned inside, listening but trying not to be distracted by self-recrimination. That was deepsleep's function.
Chapter 16
The Whisper entertained its second set of visitors in an hour. Higgins looked bored. Marshall ran a finger over the airlock seal. She looked disappointed in Zofie's craft. Was their Banshee that superior? Judging by their well-worn dockyard suits, Zofie doubted it.
"This is my partner, Willie Renfrew." Zofie invited the pair to sit between she and Carver.
"You spend much time in the Eddy, Renfrew?" Higgins gave Carver an appraising eye. Marshall glanced at him once, then turned her attention back to the interior of the ship.
She was the prime evaluator. Her questions, if they came, would dig to the core of their interest.
"Some," said Carver. "Prospecting isn't my passion."
"What is your passion?" Marshall's attention to Zofie's partner returned in an instant.
Be careful, Carver. These might be clients.
"Maintaining a credit balance above the poverty line. Taking my retirement in snatches when I have surplus funds. I'm a hedonist."
Zofie didn't know if Marshall believed him or not but it was a good answer.
"Let's hope cooperation can allow us all to enjoy luxurious times." Marshall turned to Zofie. "What incentive are you offering?"
"The best rate of return on your goods in either Argosy Station or Bohr. Mister Renfrew and I have extensive contacts on both Argosy Station and on Gamma Hub in Bohr."
"Gamma is primarily a naval hub," said Marshall. "Isn't that a little dangerous? Dealing with the authorities overseeing importation enforcement?"
"Can you think of better camouflage?" Zofie caught Carver's attention.
He took up the narrative. "Depending on your goods, we can run them all the way to Bohr or be content with a reduced but less risky return by passing them on to a middleman in Argosy."
Higgins snorted. "We can get our shipment to Argosy Station as easily as you can. Who cares about Gamma? The Banshee's a stout barnacle. I'm not certain this tub has got more than two or three jumps left in her."
Zofie repressed an emotional reply before it left her mouth. Was he negotiating or just rude? Marshall's lips tightened in response to her partner's statement. Higgins thought he was negotiating.
"The integrity of the Whisper isn't in question," Zofie answered. "And even if it was, not your concern. As to you getting your goods to Argosy yourselves, that is quite possible. But you won't get the price I can, nor will you be replenishing your stock back here. Which you will be if you let us escort the transport."
"This is all moot," said Carver. "We don't know what you have or how much."
"We need to know if we can work together first, Mister Renfrew." Marshall stood up. Higgins followed a moment later.
Zofie's intuition was confirmed. Marshall ran their show. She could live with that. She preferred dealing with another woman, less emotion and fewer distracting hormones. "I agree, Marshall. We'll both evaluate partnership potential and reconvene on neutral ground or perhaps aboard the Banshee. That would give us a chance to appraise your overhead level. Renfrew and I believe in reinvesting our profits in additional cargo and ship fundamental maintenance, not frivolous decoration."
"I'll be in touch." Marshall stopped midway in the 'lock. "Are you contemplating business with the Reds?"
The tone was offhand but Zofie realized Marshall had likely seen the previous visitors to the Whisper come and go. It wouldn't do to minimize the facts. "We'll see. It's possible. Having more than one set of clients is often a good thing. Each shipment detracts attention from the other. Especially if your goods walk a fine line between legal and contraband."
"That fine line is a large grey band these days," said Marshall. She and Higgins left with no further word.
Back inside the Whisper, 'lock closed, she and Carver shared a drink.
"Do you reckon Marshall figures you're the lead here and I'm hired help?" Carver asked.
"Well, she knows I'm the frontperson, whether or not she underestimates your value, I couldn't tell. Higgins is a wasted suit. I don't understand why she needs him."
"He could be a temporary bodyguard." Carver rubbed his lips. "She doesn't act like a solo operator. I wager there's another partner somewhere."
"I agree. Marshall's the one we concentrate on."
Carver poured a second drink. His recovery from her drugs and deepsleep was coming along. "You're confused about something though. I can tell from the wrinkles on your brow."
"She didn't broach the subject of terms. She's confident whatever they want brokered has sufficient rarity and value that we'll take whatever percentage she offers."
"Higgins' comments about Argosy Station being a possible final destination might be a clue."
"That was a slip. Marshall flinched for a moment. Confluence territory is their goal. What's worth running naval blockades right now? Why not wait for the peace accord to settle and follow the rules?"
"Could be Schoenfeldium," said Carver. "You hear any rumors of a current find?"
"Nothing. Why ship it to Argosy? Worth just as much out here."
"Except there aren't as many jumpships out here as I would expect. Did the Realm Armada evaporate, move or never exist?"
"I've no idea. Could Marshall have a second alien find?"
"I suppose. If there's more than one, there could be a dozen."
"If so, the entire Eddy would know about it. No, Carver, it's something else entirely. I put my head on it. Until we hear from Marshall, I need to find a freighter for the Reds. And come up with a cover story."
"Why doesn't Willie Renfrew invest in surplus mining equipment? We'll ship it back to Argosy Station to resell to the next wave of would-be prospectors."
"A solid cover for the artifacts packed with the equipment, radiation-shielded to discourage detailed human examination." Zofie's thoughts leapt ahead. "I knew you'd be more than a lucky talisman, Carver. You'd best do your buying remotely. If one person recognized you, there could be more. Sorry, you are still confined to ship."
"At least let me get out and stretch my legs. I'll wear a hooded flimsuit."
"Okay. But you talk to no one."
"Not to be paranoid but an alternative explanation for Marshall's circumspection occurs to me."
Her suspicions were not unique. "I know. You're not being paranoid, just careful."
"They could be the authorities."
Zofie caught her breath. This complication so soon wasn't welcome. "Confluence or Realm?"
"No idea. The implication of either baffles. You're small fish, there'd have to be a more important target."
"I don't want to be bait. I'll make more inquiries. I'd like to see the Banshee. If they are undercover, Carver, you know what that means."
"Yeah, they'll identify me."
"There's no official bounty but I don't wish to lose my new partner before we begin operation."
"I'm not going back to Argosy with you. The politics don't interest me. I'd rather take the frontier risks in the Eddy than he duplicity of politicians proscribing new rules for their citizens in the guise of peace and prosperity. I'm waiting here for DualE and the brothers. I'll help you set up your transport but you're on your own back on Argosy or Gamma." Carver crossed his arms. "Or I walk into the shipyard and surrender to some actual authorities and wait for DualE and Admiral Rowland to get me free."
"I can live with that. If these artifacts are real, I'm happy not to share the proceeds."
She left the Whisper and headed back to the yard's business core, such as it was, loaded with questions. Each answer taking her closer to riches or disaster.
Chapter 17
"I think we should split up," DualE told Chels. "It's the best way to cover Progress. From your description, I've a good idea what Perry looks like. I'll record any possibilities for you to confirm." She wanted to scout the station on her own, not just to search for Perry but to perform her task for the navy.
"I know Slate's Progress from tip to tail," said Chels.
"Your knowledge might blind you in spots. You know it too well. Your eyes can assume a view which isn't real. He could be in the places I would explore."
"Sounds like a military mantra. Four eyes better than two?"
"It's saved my skin more than once. Two fresh eyes can be better than two tired or lazy ones. I'm not saying you're lazy, Chels, in fact I believe the opposite. But we're on a tight timetable."
"Which half do you want?"
"The half you're certain he wouldn't be in? No offense."
"I disagree. If what you say is true, then I should give you the half I'm certain he should be in."
DualE recognized the truth. "You're right. I'm lagged from the jump. Where should he be?"
"Perry was on the skids. I know the situation well, having been broke myself many times. If he could afford a berth, it'd be below the life-systems levels. The vibration and noise aren't dampened down there so tube coffins are cheap. Once your credit is exhausted, you hook a sling among the in-between spaces and hope you don't get mugged for your clothes. Be warned, it's not a pleasant place. Nor safe."
"Thanks. Nasty and perilous are in my blood. I'll be in ready-mode." DualE checked her stunners and knife harness inside her flimsuit. "See you in twelve hours. Or less, if we find him."
Chels nodded and moved away from the Crossed Swords.
DualE secured her ship and the Penance in the brothers' absence. Pious and team were connecting with current and potential followers in the chapel. Her concern for their safety was small with them together. Legitimate danger would come soon enough in the Eddy.
She made her way via dropshaft to the life-systems decks. They were well-manned and brightly lit. A stowaway wouldn't remain undiscovered here for long. Nevertheless, she covered as much as was open to civilians in quick time.
She moved on, descending into the dim levels below. Posters advertising cheap cubbies led her forward. At last, she came to an automated check-in.
"How many shifts?" asked a mechanical voice.
"Three if you have space. Are you busy?"
"Many available, pick from the menu."
The occupied berths numbered four. Unoccupied numbered in the dozens. "Business is slow," said DualE.
