Free Song of Scarabaeus by Sara Creasy Page A

discovered her extraordinary affinity for biocyph, her rescue from the camps had come in the form of Liv Natesa, a newly promoted ’crat from the Crib Colonial Unit whose personal ambition drove her to argue for establishing a seeding program on Talas. The idea had the full support of the local gov, which would do anything to boost its standing with the Crib. With Natesa’s help, they’d petitioned Crib Central for a year to get the CCU program up and running, and to get permission to train Edie. From Central came a string of excuses: she was too young, she wasn’t a Crib citizen, she was native born and should never have been taken from her people in the first place. What stopped the flow of excuses was a change of minister, quickly followed by a change of policy.
    The Talasi Elders had had no say in the matter. Natesa had accused them of mistreatment—only slightly embellishing the extent of it—and brought Edie as a ward of state to the institute in Halen Crai.
    Edie lingered over a three-line consent form, signed by Natesa, for the splinter and softlink implant. She remembered the surgery, the pain, the itchiness in her fingertips where the wires were embedded. She’d accepted everything they did to her.
    There were education and training schedules, psych assessments and recommendations, ongoing evaluations of her rapidly developing skills. She skimmed the copies of her seeding missions with CCU, and of Liv Natesa’s investigation into her first mission. They’d buried a thousand BRATs on that world, but the world described by Natesa bore little resemblance to the one Edie recalled. The investigation was a sham, its purpose designed to salvage Natesa’s career after the mission failed.
    Bethany’s death was dealt with in a few brief lines.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    Edie jumped at the sound of Finn’s voice. He stood with one foot inside her room and made no move to come nearer, respecting her space. She blinked, hoping he hadn’t seen her crying. But her eyes were dry. She’d cried out her tears for Bethany a long time ago. Why would he think there was something wrong?
    When she said nothing, he nodded at the holoviz. “What is that?”
    â€œMy records from Talas.” She switched to on-screen display so he couldn’t read them from where he was standing.
    â€œYou’ve got a memo saying the briefing’s in ten minutes, top deck.” His voice was hoarse, as though speaking was still a huge effort.
    â€œGive me fifteen and we’ll head up there.” She didn’t want to arrive early and appear over-eager.
    â€œI’m going to skip it. Still sleeping off those tranqs they gave me.” He looked unsure of himself, as though he hated to admit to any vulnerability.
    â€œBut they won’t dose you up any more, right?”
    â€œThat’s what they told me.”
    â€œWell, I’ll fill you in later, if you’re interested.”
    â€œI’m interested in keeping you alive. That’s it.”
    He didn’t sound as bitter as he probably should have. Maybe because he was tired. As he turned to leave, Edie called after him.
    â€œWhy did you think there was something wrong?”
    He faced her again. “You were quiet.”
    â€œI was reading.”
    â€œI don’t know. I just…” He shrugged but didn’t leave. “You’re a native of Talas, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOn the station I heard rumors that the natives would die if they left the planet.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I have a neuroxin implant.” She touched her inner elbow. “These rovers have assured me they’ll replenish it before it runs dry.”
    If she was a good girl.
    He surprised her by coming over to cup his hand around her arm. He examined the faint scar, his fingers firm on her skin as he prodded the tiny disk below the surface.
    â€œSubcutaneous.” He frowned.