“Because they have an interest in keeping you out of Gyonnese hands?”
“Yes,” she said.
So that was how she had gotten so far. Her corporation had backed her. They had probably provided the lawyers and maybe even the cloning service for her child. Had they killed the original child too? Or just Disappeared it?
No wonder the Gyonnese were angry. They knew that they had no chance of getting justice, even before the case began.
He walked toward her. He let his smile fade and the hatred he felt for her show in his eyes.
She squirmed in the chair, but she couldn’t get free. She was breathing shallowly, a sign of growing fear.
“You killed my partner,” he said.
“He wasn’t your partner,” she said. “He was your employee.”
Interesting that she believed the distinction was important. Did she rank human lives the way she ranked humans above aliens?
If so, she would never understand why Nafti’s death made Yu so angry.
So he said, “You tried to kill me.”
She nodded, hitting her chin on the edge of the chair and wincing. “I felt like I had no choice.”
Well, that excused everything. He was willing to die because she had no choice. He kept that sarcastic thought to himself and made sure he kept his arms crossed despite the pain.
“And now do you feel like you had a choice?” he asked.
She licked her lips again. “I hadn’t realized you were being paid.”
She was lying. And even if she wasn’t, he wasn’t going to let her know that he thought her stupid.
“Why would I steal you otherwise?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You could have been some kind of vigilante.”
“Out to get mass murderers and bring them to my ship?” He permitted himself a small chuckle. “So I’m some kind of vigilante hero in your fevered imagination.”
She winced. “I’m not a mass murderer.”
“At least, not intentionally,” he said, knowing the lie she would tell him. The Gyonnese believed the deaths were intentional, that she had been testing a weapon. He had no idea who was right.
The result was the same. The larvae were dead.
“Not intentionally killing someone makes it better, right? Like feeling you had no choice in killing me. That mitigates it, doesn’t it?” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice now.
Her wince grew into a frown. He wasn’t sure if he was reaching her or just convincing her that she had no hope of getting away from him.
“Now you’ve killed a man with your bare hands,” Yu said, unable to let it go. “How does that feel?”
She raised her chin. He had gotten to her.
“How does it feel beating a woman within an inch of her life?” she asked.
He smiled again. And this time, he meant it. “After she tried to kill me? Exhilarating.”
She studied him for a moment. Then she bit her lower lip, as if she were thinking.
Finally, she said, “I can get Aleyd to pay you. We can set something up, some off-world account, and they can send the money. They will do it. They paid for my defense—”
“And that didn’t work, did it?” Yu said.
“—and they paid to relocate me. They want me to stay away from the Gyonnese. Not all the suits are settled.”
He tilted his head back. She actually thought he would bargain with her. Did she think everyone as crass as she was?
“If Aleyd kills you,” Yu said, “then the Gyonnese won’t have you.”
“If Aleyd wanted me dead,” she said, “it would have happened long ago.”
That was probably true. They wanted something else from her.
Or they felt she was too valuable an asset to lose.
“You’re asking me to trust you,” Yu said.
“No,” Shindo said. “I’m trying to figure out the best way for you to make a profit.”
She wasn’t even a good liar. “And for you to survive.”
“Of course,” she said. Then coughed so hard that she spit blood on the travel chamber’s exterior. “You injured me badly. You might want to get those fake medical idiots up here to set the nose.”
“You injured me just as badly. I might lose my right hand.”
Her expression didn’t change. She didn’t care. The woman had no empathy at all.
“They build better hands now than we’re born with,” she said. “Consider yourself lucky.”
He clenched his good fist. “You’re a cold bitch.”
“And you’re a coward,” she said.
He blinked at her, startled.
“If you had any guts at all,” she snapped, “you’d take my proposal.”
“If I had any guts at all, I’d take your proposal and then sell you to the Gyonnese.”
Her eyes opened wide. She clearly hadn’t thought of that.
“Why do they want me so badly?” She was trying for plaintive. It wasn’t working. “The case they had against me was settled.”
“They think you broke the law.”
“I did, according to the court,” she said. “That’s why I lost.”
“After the case got settled. They think you hid your child from them.”
“You saw Talia. I didn’t hide anyone.”
“The original child,” he said.
“Is dead.”
For the first time, he couldn’t tell if she was lying. And he wasn’t even sure he cared. She wouldn’t tell him where the original child was, not even to save herself. That much was obvious.
But then, she also knew that he wouldn’t kill her. So she had no reason to tell him.
She might tell the Gyonnese.
“The Gyonnese think the child is alive,” he said. “They’re going to use you as an example.”
Her eyes seemed to get even wider. “An example of what?”
“They’re trying to prosecute anyone who helps Disappeareds.”
“But I’m not a Disappeared.”
“Your child has Disappeared.” He let his arms drop, then winced again as his right hand bumped his leg. “Where else could they have gotten the cloning material?”
It was his last gamble. He wanted to know where that child was if it existed. Then he could get rid of her, however he wanted to.
He was no longer sure how he wanted to.
“We got the DNA from her body,” Shindo said softly. “They clone the dead on Armstrong. There’s a whole industry that does it. I thought you knew that.”
She wasn’t lying now. He could tell. Still, the news disgusted him. He hadn’t known that the Earth Alliance allowed the cloning of the dead anywhere within its borders.
Cloning the dead was forbidden on most worlds where cloning was allowed.
He shrugged, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “You’ll never convince the Gyonnese of that. They want you. They want this case. They want to punish Aleyd. They lost an entire generation of children.”
“They lost what they call original children,” she said. “They weren’t even sentient yet.”
He clenched his left fist. His right hand hurt too much to move.
“More excuses?” he asked.
“Those larvae divide.” Her eyes were bright. She had made these arguments before. “The genetic material is the same in all the subsequent larvae. Just because the originals were killed doesn’t mean the individuals are gone.”
For someone who was supposed to be smart, she didn’t seem to understand the flaws in her argument. He
