Read Morgan's Choice for Free Online

He’d noticed that when the senior
officers came to visit them all those days ago. He’d have to be
careful here. He was sure he’d detected some resentment.
    “You don’t like the Mirka?”
    “It is not fair. We are just as capable of
command as they are.” She stiffened, frowning, urgent. “Please… you
will not tell I said that?”
    She’d just told whoever was monitoring the
room hadn’t she? He looked pointedly at the nearest sensor.
    She jerked her head up, their body language
for ‘no’. “I have switched them off. It is the end of the day. Our
conversation is private.”
    Had she, indeed? “Well, no. I won’t tell.”
Why would it matter anyway? “Look, why don’t you tell me about you?
Where you were born, where you grew up, your family?”
    By the end of the evening, he knew her father
was a wealthy merchant and that she had elected to serve the fleet
in training so she could meet many different manesa and learn more
about them. Market research, you might say. And she told him her
personal name was Indra.
    The following evening Sayvu did the same
thing, bringing him back for extra ‘lessons’, with the guard
outside. More ordinary conversation, about families and politics,
the Mirka planetary rulers and their despotic rule.
    “So not all Mirka are military?”
    “No. But of course, the military helps to
maintain the power of their own. They crush any resistance.”
    Contempt again. A curled lip, a scowl. Maybe,
just maybe there could be an opportunity here for an enterprising
individual like himself. “You don’t like the system?”
    “ No. I like the way you said your society
works. With choice.” She hesitated, searching his face. “I am
a Bunyadan .” She
rushed on, almost as if she feared she’d change her mind if she did
not. “The Bunyada believe
that all manesa were created equal, that all with the ability have
the right to command,” she said.
    “Even the Shuba?”
    “No, no.” She inclined her head, smiling.
“Only those with the ability. Not Shuba. They are laborers,
ordinary soldiers. And Hasta…” she raised both palms to shoulder
height, a gesture of contempt. “They are artisans.”
    So only Mirka and Vesha. Some classes are
more equal than others.
    “And years ago, when our people first
evolved, we had round eyes. Just like yours.”
    He stared at her. Round eyes just like ours?
Could they have originated from humans, these manesa?
    Sayvu fluttered her eyelashes, embarrassed.
“It is a legend but my father thinks it may have a germ of truth.
That our founders were brought here and settled, then as time went
by the four classes broke apart from each other and became locked
as they are. And by then our eyes had changed. But you see, if at
one time we were equal, then there is no reason for the Mirka to
rule.”
    “Well, I expect you’re right.”
    “My father would be anxious to meet you. It
is a pity.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “If I could arrange
a ship to get you away…” She stood, suddenly brisk. “That’s enough
for tonight.”
    He returned to his cell, deep in thought.
Chance just might be offering him an opportunity. He had hoped,
back there on Curlew , to
develop a partnership with Selwood. With her to help him, what
couldn’t he achieve? No bank, no casino would be able to stop her.
He could be rich beyond his wildest dreams. She hadn’t been
interested then. He hadn’t even been able to get her to bed, but
now things were different. No doubt about it, Selwood’s skills were
a saleable commodity. And he was nothing if not a
salesman.
     
    ****
     
    Several more late meetings later Jones felt
he knew Sayvu well enough. “You know, Selwood could pilot a ship,”
he said.
    A flick of an eyebrow. “One of our ships?
How?”
    He leaned toward her, conspiratorial,
smiling. “Indra, my dear, Selwood could fly this ship. On her own.”
    Her eyes widened. “ Vidhvansaka ? A battle cruiser? No. That’s not
possible.”
    “Yes, it is.