46

Jerusha leaned forward across the duty desk, craning her neck to follow the sight of Dr. C’sunh and his fellow would-be genocides being led away into the detention wing. Oh, sweet revenge! There was nothing sweet in her smile. She had broken Arienrhod’s plot at the last possible moment; and even though she couldn’t touch Arienrhod herself, she had set the Summers on her, and they would keep her safe until the day of her execution. Maybe there is some justice in the universe, after all. “Starhiker!”

Tor Starhiker glanced through the thinning screen of self congratulatory blue uniforms; she sat drinking strong tea under the watchful ga/e of Pollux. She got up from the bench, came striding through the patrolmen toward the desk. Jerusha watched her come with bemused interest. Her clinging body wrap left considerably more of her chunky body uncovered than it covered; she walked like a dockhand, oblivious to the casual ogling of the men she passed. A plain, pragmatic face was emerging through the smeared makeup, and her lank mouse-colored hair was chopped off bluntly at ear length. Ye gods, there’s a human being in there. Jerusha remembered abruptly that one of the men she had just sent away seemed to be in love with that human being. Damn it, why can’t right be right and wrong be wrong… why can’t it be simple, just once? I’m sick of gray. She shook it off as the woman stood before her. “How are you doing?”

Tor shrugged, lost a drape of cloth and pulled it back onto her shoulder. “All right, I guess. I mean, considering…” She looked i away at the doorway to the detention block.

“Well enough for a monitored testimony?”

“Sure.” Tor sighed. “I guess I don’t get to appear at the trial, huh?” She rested her hands on her hips.

The trial would be held on some other world now. Jerusha smiled, understanding the irony. “Consider yourself lucky. Dr. C’sunh has a lot of friends, and they’re all out there.” She gestured at the ceiling.

Tor made a face. “At least once we’re gone from Tiamat, you’ll be safe from them. Your statement will do all the damage that you could, as long as it’s properly recorded; and I’ll make damn sure it is, believe me. I just hope it’ll be enough to drag in the Source. If the—” She broke off as a fresh clot of strangers entered the station. No, not strangers. She stood up, saw everyone else in the room turn to stare with her.

“What the—”

“Arienrhod?”

“Moon!” She heard herself say it, heard Tor echo it, without taking time to wonder. She saw two sturdy Summers behind the girl, carrying Gundhalinu’s body. “Shit… I”

Moon hesitated as she saw Jerusha move out from behind the desk, but she stood her ground resolutely as the handful of patrolmen gathered around them.

“Who’s that?”

“Gundhalinu!”

“I thought he was—”

“Is he dead?” Jerusha caught Moon by the shoulder, all her perspective gone.

“No!” Jerusha saw the anguish on the girl’s face as she wrenched her around, and she let her go in surprise. “He isn’t dead. But he’s sick, he needs a medic.” Moon’s hand reached out toward him, couldn’t quite touch him.

“That didn’t matter much to you two days ago, did it?” Jerusha looked past her at Gundhalinu’s lolling head and closed eyes, his gaunt, sweating face. She gestured for two of her own men to take him away from the Summers. “Get him over to the med center; hurry. And carefully, damn it! He’s worth more than diamonds to me.”

They carried him away, carefully. The two Summers nodded at Moon, almost making obeisances, and went back out into the alley. Moon didn’t try to follow them, or Gundhalinu, with more than her eyes. She had gotten herself a long golden gown somewhere; even with her hair straggling down around her face her resemblance to Arienrhod was incredible.

“And you’re under arrest, Dawntreader, in case you’d forgotten.” My gods, this is too much for one day. She lifted her hand, summoning another officer.

Moon grimaced. “I haven’t forgotten you, Commander. BZ… Inspector Gundhalinu… I escaped. He found me again. He was bringing me in when he collapsed.” She said it all unblinkingly.

“Sure he was.” Jerusha unhooked the binders from her belt, said very softly, “That’s the biggest crock I ever heard. Fortunately I choose to believe it, for Gundhalinu’s sake.” She saw the girl’s marked throat, remembering abruptly that she was a sibyl. Jerusha lowered her hands with the binders toward her belt again, grudgingly. “I suppose these aren’t necessary, sibyl. But you didn’t come here to tell me that. Why the hell did you come?”

Moon smiled briefly, ironically; the expression looked alien on her face. She stopped smiling. “I came because the Queen wants to cause a plague to kill all the Summers in the city, and I know who’s going to start it.”

“You’re too late.” Jerusha grinned with self-satisfied triumph, until she saw Moon’s reaction. “No — I mean we’ve already stopped it. We’ve got the guilty parties, they’re our permanent guests right now.” She gestured toward the lockup, mellowing in the warmth of fortune’s smile.

“Already? It’s over? They didn’t—” Moon glanced over her shoulder at the station entrance. She looked back at Jerusha again, stricken, abruptly realizing that she had sacrificed her freedom for nothing.

“They didn’t. The Summers are safe. Arienrhod has failed, and she’s under house arrest. She won’t get away from your Lady.” A passing patrolman called congratulations to her; she nodded.

Moon’s face twitched as though she didn’t know what to feel, as though there were more layers to the knowledge than even she could penetrate. “How… how did you find out?” wearily.

“By chance; with unintentional cooperation from—” She turned to Tor Starhiker, eavesdropping behind her.

“Hey, kid,” Tor raised a hand, and Moon blinked with recognition. “Hey, Pollux, come here!”

“Persipone?” Moon half frowned at Tor’s unglamorized face, still only half-sure. She looked past her as the pol rob came toward them.

“What’s she under arrest for?” Tor jerked a thumb at Moon, indignantly, a little too impressed with her own role as key witness. “It’s not against the law to impersonate the Queen, is it? Not your laws, anyhow.”

“That depends on how well you do it,” Jerusha said. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You know each other?”

“Since today. That seems like forever.” Tor shook her head, strained for a smile. “Look what she’s done to your hairdo, Polly… So what happened, cousin? Did you find him? Did you get him out of the palace? Did you see the Queen — did she see you?”

“You were in the palace?” Jerusha demanded. The clear wall of official accusation turned the girl into a prisoner again. “To meet the Queen—”

Moon felt the change, and defiance beat back at her. “To find my cousin!” She glanced quickly at Tor, nodded, blushing. “You know what… who I am, don’t you, Commander?”

Jerusha nodded, keeping her distance mentally. “I’ve known for a long time.” Tor looked blank beside her.

“So has everyone; except me,” Moon murmured bitterly. “I was the last to know.”

“I still don’t know,” Tor said.

“Did Gundhalinu tell you?”

“No, Arienrhod did.” Moon twisted a strand of hair.

Jerusha started. “You saw her?”

“Yes,” almost a whisper. “She wanted me with her to share… everything. Even Sparks,” coldly. Moon reddened again; angry, not ashamed. “She wanted me to forget that I’m pledged to him; forget that I’m a Summer; forget that I’m a sibyl. And when I wouldn’t forget, she tried to kill me.”

The bitterness increased a magnitude. Jerusha frowned as her own surprise deepened. Moon rubbed her eyes, swaying where she stood; Jerusha remembered all that she had been through, and how much of it had been for Gundhalinu’s sake.

“Sit down. Pollux, bring us some tea.” Jerusha dismissed the waiting guard, touched Moon’s elbow, turning her toward the seat along the wall. Moon looked surprise at her; Jerusha felt a twinge of surprise at herself. Pollux moved away obediently through the trajectories of official activity. Tor included herself in the rest of the invitation: “Get me a refill, Polly.”