and everyone else-won’t have a reason to declare war. You’ll be neutral-and in a position to stop other wars from breaking out later.”
I shook my head. This was a lot of information coming at me all at once. I wandered over the French doors, and opened them a crack. Fresh, cool air blew into the room. I poked my head outside. A small group of other students, most of them older than me, were talking a ways up the common balcony. Good. If had to yell for help or make a fast exit, someone would hear me. I felt calmer now. Sufur didn’t seem to be a whack-head, but you can never tell for sure.
“Look,” Sufur said from my bed, “do you know what happened to your mother and father when the Unity invaded Rust?”
I turned. “What do you know about them?”
“I’ve done my research,” he said. “Your parents are Prasad and Vidya Vajhur, though your mother later changed her name to Dasa. They ran a small cattle farm not far from the city of Ijhan. When the Unity invaded, it dropped biological weapons that wiped out Rust’s food supply. Famine spread everywhere. Your parents, like a lot of people, headed for the city, hoping to find relief. There was none. A sea of people starving to death in their own filth and sewage surrounded Ijhan, and your parents were among them. Hundreds of thousands of innocent people died thanks to the Unity’s little war.”
“Where did you hear this?” I demanded, though I wanted to hear more. This was the stuff Mom never talked about.
“Your parents, however,” Sufur continued as if I hadn’t said anything, “did not die. They knew that they carried the genes for Silence, though they weren’t Silent themselves. When their position became hopeless, they signed a contract with Silent Acquisitions, Inc.”
“I know that,” I interrupted. “How do you know it?”
“I told you-I have many contacts.” He took out a white silk handkerchief and passed it over his forehead. Did I make him nervous? “Later, the Unity took over your parents’ contract and forced them to hand over their first two children.”
“I know that, too,” I interrupted. “So what?”
“War destroyed your family, Sejal. It starved them and forced your parents to give your brothers away. War allowed the Unity to conquer your homeworld and drain it dry. Because of war, you were forced to live in an impoverished slum all your life.”
“More contacts?” I said.
Sufur nodded. “More contacts. You’ll have to get used it, I’m afraid. Word about you is already spreading. No matter what choices you make, your life will under constant scrutiny.” He stood up and leaned against the door frame. “Ultimately, it all comes down to this, Sejal: Araceil Rymar has been ordered to kill you. The Empress gave her the order before either of them had even met you. Even if Araceil decides to let you live-and I very much doubt that will happen-do you really want to stay in a place where such orders are given so casually?”
I didn’t answer because there was only one to give. Suddenly I was angry again. Earlier today things were looking good. I had new clothes, my own place to live, and people who liked me. This jay-head was taking it all away.
“Why the hell should I go with you?” I snapped. “I don’t have any proof of who you are or what you’ll do to me once I leave. How do I know you haven’t been sent to kill me?”
Sufur raised his hands, and I realized I had pretty much said I was going to leave. “You have the power to make me do-or not do-anything you want. How could I hurt you? And if I were going to kill you, wouldn’t I just do it instead of talking all this time?”
I thought about it for a while. I didn’t want to go, but I knew I couldn’t stay.
“Can Kendi come?” I said before I could stop myself.
“Do you really think he’d want to?”
I thought about it. “No,” I sighed.
“Let’s go then,” Sufur said gently. “I have a ship.”
And then my Jesse personality spoke up. Always get the money up front. “We haven’t talked terms yet.”
Sufur smiled. “Altruism isn’t enough?”
If he was thinking I didn’t know what altruism meant, he was wrong. “I can’t eat altruism. And you don’t look exactly hungry yourself.”
“Fair enough.” He scratched his head. “How about this, then. Just to show you I mean what I say, I’ll give you a salary and no duties. You do what you want. If you don’t like what’s going on, you can take your money and leave, no strings attached.”
I eyed him with heavy suspicion. “What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one. I’m just willing to bet you’ll want to hang around.”
“How do you know I won’t steal you blind?”
“Two reasons,” he replied instantly. “The first is that people who plan to steal me blind rarely ask that question. The second is that I’ve studied your history. With what you can do, you could have set yourself up pretty well, even on Rust. You didn’t, and I think it’s because you’re not the kind of person who would steal.”
I didn’t like the fact that he had me so well pegged. “So what’s the salary?”
“Let’s see.” Sufur pulled a computer pad from his pocket and started punching at it. “The Unity uses kesh. One kesh converts to point two four freemarks. So that would be…All right. Yearly salary of two and a half million freemarks. That’s about ten million kesh. Full medical care and your own flitcar.”
Jesse froze my face before I could show my reaction. Ten million kesh was a truckload. Or it was back on Rust.
Never take the first offer, Jesse whispered. I managed a sneer despite the fact that my heart was racing. “Ten million?” I scoffed. “How much do you think I’d get if I just put myself up for auction?”
“Fifteen million.”
“Thirty,” I said. “And I want my own house. With a swimming pool. And all the other stuff you said. And five million extra up front as a bonus.”
“Done.”
Idiot, Jesse said. He agreed too fast. That means he thinks you’re a bargain.
But I didn’t care. Thirty-five million in one year, plus a house and a flitcar. I’d never see a slum from the inside again. I crossed the room and stuck out my hand. Sufur looked at it for a long moment, then slowly brought out his own hand. His handshake was quick and limp and he pulled back as soon as he could. What was with him?
I got my flute and the computer button with my journals on it while Sufur’s pad wrote up a contract. We both thumbed it, and that was that. I looked around the room that hadn’t even had time to become mine. As we were heading out the door, I took off the ring Kendi had given me and dropped it on my desk in plain sight. When we left, I made sure the door was open a crack to make it clear I was gone.
“Aren’t we going to go out the back?” I said as we headed down the main hallway. “This leads to the front desk.”
“So?” Sufur replied. “I haven’t broken the law.”
Oh. “In that case…” I stopped at the front desk and picked up my delivery. I had been right-it was my clothes and other stuff. I made a mental note to transfer money to the Children of Irfan to pay for them. Like Sufur said, I’m not a thief.
We rode the monorail back to the spaceport. Sufur made sure there was a seat between us when we sat down. Then he put a finger to his ear and muttered to the empty air. I figured he was talking to his ship.
It was weird. Here I was on the monorail again. I was going backward, retracing the route that had brought me here. I had been happy coming in. I was depressed going out. I came in with a friend. I went out with a stranger. I came in poor. I went out rich.
Anyway. Sufur’s ship at the spaceport was small but luxurious. The hallways were thickly carpeted and the walls were painted with murals and frescos. It smelled new. The elevator was a floating disk that hummed up through a hole in the ceiling/deck to the bridge. There were only two chairs, and their backs were to us.
“Are we cleared to take off?” Sufur said.
One of the chairs spun partway around. My jaw dropped and I almost lost the hold on my packages. Sitting in the chair was Chin Fen.
