Emissaries from the dead by Adam-troy Castro

Author:Adam-troy Castro [Castro, Adam-troy]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science fiction, General, Fiction, Science Fiction - General, Fantasy, Fantasy - General, Artificial intelligence, Science Fiction And Fantasy, Fiction - Fantasy, Thrillers, Space colonies, Extraterrestrial beings, Genetic engineering, Murder, Mystery fiction
ISBN: 9780061443725
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2008-02-06T19:30:00+00:00

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Nobody had wanted to subject Gibb to the same degree of security mandated for Li-Tsan Crin, so they'd contented themselves with just escorting him outside the hangar and staying with him while he endured the long wait for my attention.

Three men sat cross-legged on the padded deck, their backs against the faintly luminescent wall, the fuming Gibb bracketed by two indentures who seemed to have been chosen for being on good terms with him. I recognized both: a slightly built, callow young indenture named Simon Wells, who had been no help whatsoever in our brief interview earlier in the day, and a hairy-armed, scowling older man named Chasin Burr, whose answers had rarely exceeded two or three words per question. Wells radiated the profound discomfort of an insecure man not happy with having to guard his superior. Burr just radiated general dislike in my direction.

I sent them back to the hangar, then activated the hiss screen and stood looking down at Gibb.

"You can sit," he said, in a voice rendered hoarse by trauma.

"No, thank you. After Hammocktown, I enjoy the novelty of standing." He began to rise.

I halted him with a gesture. "Remain seated or I'll order you restrained." He froze. "Come on, Counselor. I'm not about to attack you."

"You're probably telling the truth. But your actions tonight do indicate a recent propensity for violence. So stay where you are." .

He looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he grunted, settled back down, and regarded me with the resigned weariness of a man accustomed to being misunderstood. "This is pointless. Dozens of witnesses just saw that crazy woman threaten my life."

"That's right. They also saw you strike her first."

His sigh was weary in both body and spirit. "Yeah, that was a mistake. But she was hysterical. She was hysterical, and she was out of control, and I thought a little shock would bring her out of it."

"What would make you think that, Mr. Gibb? Do you hit your people often?" He stared at me, bit back a response, and looked away, shaking his head.

"No?" I said. "Just the women?"

"That's an ugly implication, Counselor."

"It was an ugly moment, Mr. Gibb."

He averted his eyes. "It was the wrong thing to do. But I mean what I say. She was hysterical." I circled to keep myself within his line of sight. "What about?"

"'The same thing she was always going on about. Blame. She was so sure that this debacle was going to be made all about her. I assured her that assigning blame was the very last of my concerns right now, and suggested that she find a better use for her time."

''That's not exactly a natural point for you to slap her. So I presume she got nastier."

"Yes."

"What was the last thing she said to you before you slapped her?"

"I don't remember."

I rubbed my eyes, felt a wave of gray dizziness, wished I hadn't already committed to standing, and said,

"Mr. Gibb, she's already on record as calling you an incompetent, an asshole, a piece of Tchi shit, and a pervert who makes love to eye sockets.

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