Earth Thirst (The Arcadian Conflict) - By Mark Teppo Page 0,2
exposed?”
“No, of course not.”
Talus isn't convinced.
“Look, she took a gamble when she approached our table. It's what she does. She makes people make mistakes—little tics in how they interact with her. That's how she knows she's on to something. Nigel and Phoebe blew our cover back in the mess by getting all worked up about her presence. I simply acknowledged we know who she is. It cut through a dance that could have gone on for days. She knows Arcadia, but has no sense what it means. There are a couple of places where she might have gotten the name.”
“Are you sure?”
His stare is relentless, and I don't like how his guard is up. Nigel is giving me the Evil Eye as well. Phoebe's expression is one of feigned indifference, masking a not entirely concealed dislike; but she's been giving me that look for more than two hundred years now. I've given up trying to read anything in Phoebe's face. The other two, though? They're too edgy, too paranoid, and their decisions are based on bad data.
“I'm sure,” I tell them, even though I know trying to dampen their curiosity is wasted effort.
Talus calls my bluff. “Find out what she knows,” he says to Nigel.
“She doesn't know anything,” I interrupt. “If you do anything—short of killing her outright—she'll know she's right. All that is going to do is make her dig harder.”
“I'll just kill her then,” Nigel says. “Simple solution. I like simple.”
“Simple isn't better,” I sigh. “Black and white; us versus them: it's not that simple.” It never was. When are they going to figure it out? Even in the old days, so many conflicts rose out of such myopic awareness.
Phoebe stirs at my declaration and seems about to say something.
“Explain it to us then, Silas,” Talus snaps, his patience running thin. “Use short words if you think that'll help.”
“We don't know why she is here, but we do know it's not because of us,” I say, ignoring the venom in his voice. “She was already on-board the ship at Adelaide, which means she's here for a story about Prime Earth and the whalers. How could she have known we were going to be here? The simplest answer is that she didn't know. We're a happy accident, and she's good enough at what she does that she knows how to take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself. Killing her accomplishes nothing, but if we consider the most likely reason for her to be here, she might actually be useful to us. We're short on intel for this mission as it is.” I play to their paranoia, feeding the serpents of unease we all have twisting in our guts. We shouldn't be here. This mission is wrong.
Phoebe narrows her eyes, glancing back and forth between Talus and me. I don't like the hardness of her eyes. Before this mission, I hadn't seen Phoebe in more than two decades, and we didn't part on the best of terms—our long-standing antagonism had been tenser than normal. The Grove should know better than to pair us on an isolated mission like this, and neither of us is pleased to not know why. Talus is known for being a bullheaded commander, but he gets the job done in the worst of conditions. Phoebe's a wildcard, and watching her watch us, I'm unsettled, once again, by her enigmatic independence.
Talus clenches and unclenches his fist, watching the way his flesh tightens across his bones. “Stay close to her,” he orders. His eyes flick up at me so that I know I am being given this responsibility. “Feed her enough to keep her interested. Find out what she knows.”
“And then what?” I sense he's not finished.
He shows me his teeth. “Remember your priorities, Silas.”
“Remember who is family,” Phoebe adds, though she is looking at Talus and not me when she speaks.
TWO
The whaling fleet belongs to Kyodo Kujira Ltd, a Japanese fishing company, and is comprised of a processing ship, two harpoon boats, and a support boat. They are, ostensibly, hunting whales for research purposes—a gray area in international legislation and the Japanese haven't bothered to hide the fact they've been skirting the gray for many years. In the past, little more than lip service was ever paid to scientific research, but six months ago, Kyodo Kujira—who had been on the verge of bankruptcy—suddenly developed a change of heart.
It probably had something to do with a massive infusion of cash from the corporate giants who rule the