Babar the Elephant. Phoenix had been colonized before the Colonial Union stopped accepting colonists from wealthy countries; there was a large French population, from which Boutin was descended. Babar was a popular children’s character on Phoenix, along with Asterix, Tintin and the Silly Man, reminders of childhoods on a planet so distant from Phoenix that no one thought much about it. Zo? had never seen an elephant in real life—very few of them ever made it into space—but she had nonetheless been delighted with the Babar when Cheryl gave it to her on her fourth birthday. After Cheryl died Zo? made Babar a totem; she refused to go anywhere without it.
He remembered Zo? crying for it while he was dropping her off at Helene Greene’s apartment, as he prepared to travel to Phoenix for several weeks of late-stage testing work. He was already late for the shuttle; he had no time to get it. He finally settled her down by promising to find her a Celeste for her Babar. Placated, she gave him a kiss and went into Kay Greene’s room to play with her friend. He then promptly forgot about Babar and Celeste until the day he was scheduled to return to Omagh and Covell. He was thinking of some reasonable excuse to explain why he was coming home empty-handed when he was pulled aside and told that Omagh and Covell had been attacked, and that everyone on the base and on the colony was dead, and that his daughter, best beloved, died alone and frightened, and far away from anyone that ever loved her.
Jared held Babar while the barrier between his consciousness and Boutin’s memories crumbled, feeling Boutin’s grief and anger as if it were his own. This was it. This was the event that set him on the path to treason, the death of his daughter, his Zo? Jolie, his joy. Jared, helpless to guard against it, felt what Boutin felt: the sick horror of unwillingly picturing his child’s death, the hollow, horrible ache standing in that place in his life where his daughter had been, and mad, acidic desire to do something more than mourn.
The torrent of memory wracked Jared, and he gasped as each new thing hit his consciousness and dug in. They tumbled in too fast to be complete or to be completely understood, the broad strokes of memory defining the shape of Boutin’s path. Jared had no memory of his first contact with the Obin; only a sense of release, as if making the decision freed him from a lingering sense of pain and rage—but he saw himself making a deal with the Obin for a safe haven in exchange for his knowledge of the BrainPal and consciousness research.
The details of Boutin’s scientific work eluded him; the training they required to comprehend required pathways of understanding Jared simply didn’t have. What he had were the memories of sensual experience: the pleasure in planning to fake his death and make his escape, the pain of separation from Zo?, the desire to leave the human sphere and start his work and create his revenge.
Here and there in this cauldron of sensation and emotion, concrete memories winked like jewels—data repeated across the memory field; things to be remembered from more than one incident. Even then some things still flickered in memory, but just out of reach—knowing Zo? was the key to Boutin’s defection but not knowing exactly why the key turned, and feeling the answer sway from his grasp as he reached for it, tantalizing and torturous.
Jared turned away to focus on the nuggets of memory that were hard, solid and within reach. Jared’s consciousness circled one of these, a place name, roughly translated from a language spoken by creatures that didn’t speak like humans.
And Jared knew where Boutin was.
The front door to the apartment slid open and Martin clambered through. He spotted Jared in Zo?’s room and pushed over to him. ::Time to go, Dirac,:: he said. ::Varley tells me Obin are on their way. They must have bugged the place. Stupid of me.::
::Give me a minute,:: Jared said.
::We don’t have a minute,:: Martin said.
::All right,:: Jared said. He pushed out of the room, taking Babar with him.
::Now’s not the best time for souvenirs,:: Martin said.
::Shut up,:: Jared said. ::Let’s go.:: He pushed out of Boutin’s apartment without looking back to see if Martin was keeping up.
Uptal Chatterjee was where Jared and Martin had left him. The Obin scout craft hovering outside the hull breach was new.
::There are other ways out of this place,:: Jared said, as he and Martin huddled by Chatterjee’s body. The scout was visible at an angle, but it apparently hadn’t spotted them yet.
::Sure there are other ways,:: Martin said. ::The question is can we get to any of them before more of these guys show up. We can take one of them if we have to. More, there’s going to be a problem.::
::Where is your squad?:: Jared asked.
::They’re on their way,:: Martin said. ::We try to keep our movements outside the rings to a bare minimum.::
::A fine idea any other time but this,:: Jared said.
::I don’t recognize that ship,:: Martin said. ::It looks like a new type of scout. I can’t even tell if it has weapons. If it doesn’t, between the two of us we might be able to take it out with our Empees.::
Jared considered this. He grabbed Chatterjee and gently pushed him in the direction of the hull breach. Chatterjee slowly floated across the breach.