by R S Penney
“Please, Director Tal,” Ven broke in. “I'm more careful than that.”
Stuffing her irritation back down was an effort, but she did so. Clearly, Ven would not have come here without good reason. “All right,” she said. “What did you learn?”
“The Ragnosians are sending ships through the Network.”
“What?”
Once again, the hologram changed as a smaller version of the galaxy map popped up beside the transparent figure. This version still had the borders of Leyrian Space and Antauran Space clearly marked, but on the other side of the Galactic Core, the Ragnos Confederacy was also outlined.
Purple lines extended from points well within the Ragnosian borders to systems just outside Leyrian Space. Larani recognized them as known locations of SuperGates. Some of those purple lines even went into Dead Space, putting Ragnosian reconnaissance ships within striking distance of Earth.
“This is not good.”
“Yes,” Ven agreed. “I've monitored the news to keep abreast of the situation here. I know what will happen if your political opponents discover these incursions before you do. That is why I brought you this data.”
Larani walked right through the hologram, causing it to ripple and then resolidify after she passed. The Bleakness take it all! On top of everything else, they now had to deal with saber-rattling from another interstellar power? She could easily imagine how Dusep would use this to his advantage. Thinking about it made her symbiont uneasy, and if the Nassai's emotions were strong enough for her to sense them, it meant the poor thing was truly anxious.
Sitting on the edge of her desk with a hand pressed to her churning stomach, Larani grunted. “All right,” she said in a ragged voice. “What do you suggest?”
The Ven hologram reoriented itself to face her and then floated like a ghost over the floor tiles. “Sue for peace,” Ven answered as the hologram approached. “Contact one of these scouting parties and try to convince them you're not a threat.”
“That's beyond my purview.”
“It is necessary.”
When she looked up to meet the spectre's gaze, Larani set her jaw and tried to keep her voice firm. “Maybe so,” she countered. “But my Keepers are not trained diplomats. A situation like this requires the most delicate touch…I will have to report this to the Hall of Council.”
“You can't.”
“It's not up to me, Ven.”
The hologram regarded her for a long moment, numbers scrolling across Ven's translucent face. Strangely, Larani actually felt scrutinized. “If you reveal this data to the Hall of Council,” Ven began, “Councilor Dusep and those who subscribe to his militant views will use it as justification for greater security crackdowns.”
“That's a risk we have to take.” Larani stiffened, considering the ramifications of her decision. “Upload the data to me. I assume you've scanned ships passing through the Network.”
“Not directly.”
Larani arched an eyebrow.
The hologram hung her head as if simulating embarrassment. “I was not fortunate enough to be in the system when Ragnosian ships passed through the Gate,” she said. “I retrieved that data by downloading travel logs from the Gates themselves.”
“That won't do,” Larani said. “We know so little about the SuperGates and how they function. There are those in Council who will insist your data has been fabricated.” Some among them would take any excuse, no matter how thin, to avoid a confrontation with the Ragnosians.
Larani had to admit that she couldn't blame them; she herself was doing the same thing, insisting that the data was incomplete so that she would have time to plan before she was forced to take action. “Council won't act without undeniable proof,” she said. “So, we'll have to get them that proof.”
“So, you understand?” Larani asked.
Did he understand? All too well. It wasn't every day that someone gave you news that left you with bitter anxiety over the fate of humanity itself, but if war broke out between Leyria and Ragnos, it could mean terrible devastation. As he watched Larani standing in the light that came through her office window, he felt a stab of guilt. Clearly, she wanted him to say something.
Jack stood inside the door with his hands in his coat pockets, licking his lips as he studied the floor tiles. “Do I understand?” he asked. “Yeah, I understand. We're teetering over the edge of a cliff, and you want to know if the fall is really that bad.”
“We need confirmation,” Larani said. “Proof that these Ragnosian incursions are actually happening.”
He looked up to squint at her. “And you want me to get you that confirmation.” It wasn't a question. “Should be a snap. I'll take a shuttle, park it near one of the SuperGates and wait a few days to see what comes through.”
With three graceful steps, Larani positioned herself right in front of him. Her face was solemn, but she nodded. “That's the plan,” she agreed. “You depart in one hour. I'll have Agent Seyrus meet you in the shuttle bay.”
“She's working on the telepath case, isn't she?”
“For the moment.”
Jack shut his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, and then shook his head. “It doesn't take two Keepers to pilot a shuttle,” he said. “Anna needs all the help she can get. Let Cassi stay with her.”
“You're certain?”
“I am.”
“Very well,” Larani said. “What was that Earth expression for when your people go into dangerous situations?” He wasn't entirely sure which one she meant, but Larani kept right on talking. “Ah yes…Godspeed, Agent Hunter.”
Chapter 12
Anna slammed into her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him tight. She let out a squeak on contact and then drew in a shuddering breath. Bleakness, she hated the thought of Jack going off into a dangerous situation without her there to keep him safe. A silly fear, but there it was.
They stood on the floor of the massive hangar bay, next to the port-side entrance of a shuttle with sleek curving wings. Every now and then, she heard the hiss of an airlock opening or the hum of a cargo skiff hovering above the floor.
Stepping back, Anna looked up at him and blinked. “Be careful,” she pleaded. “We know next to nothing about Ragnosian military tech. Don't assume that the limits we take for granted will apply to their ships.”
His smile was infectious, and the slight flush of his cheeks told her that maybe she was being a bit overprotective. “I'll be fine.” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “It's just simple recon, that's all.”
“Still,” Anna mumbled. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
Jack turned his back on her, stepping up to the airlock that was just in front of the shuttle's wing. “I love you,” he said in a quiet voice. Damn it, but she really should have been going with him.
“I love you too.”
The door slid shut behind him.
Anna stood on the polished floor with arms folded, her mouth tight with anxiety. “Don't take any stupid risks,” she said, shaking her head. “You come back to me, Hunter, or I'm gonna kick your ass.”
She knew it was silly, but she waited a few minutes to watch him take off. Maybe this was an old movie cliché, but if her partner was about to speed off into danger, then she kind of wanted to be the last thing he saw when he looked out the window.
It wasn't long before she heard the buzzing hum of the shuttle's engines, and then the craft rose slowly into the air, its landing struts retracting into its belly. “Good luck,” she whispered as she watched it pass through the circular hatch in the ceiling. Once Jack was gone, she made her way to the SlipGate chamber.
They needed her in Telsaran.
The first thing Adren noticed upon waking was the chirping of birds and the damp, lumpy ground that he had used for a bed. Trees rose up all around him with green leaves that sighed in the wind. After thirty-six hours in this place, he no longer noticed the clammy feeling of wet clothes.
He ha
d taken refuge here the night before last, seeking time to regroup and come up with some sort of plan for dealing with that wretched Justice Keeper. Confronting her had been a miscalculation. Adren had killed Justice Keepers before; it wasn't easy, punching through the defenses offered by those Nassai, but it was doable. But that Lenai woman…
He had never seen such willpower in a human being.
Adren was lying in the dirt, curled up on his side and using his own forearm as a pillow. How very undignified. He sat up with a groan, scrubbing fingers through his hair and flicking dried leaves away. “Someone needs to teach that bitch some manners.”
“You know, I've often thought the same thing.”
He shivered.
What he felt should have been impossible; his talent was refined enough to warn him if someone got too close – even deep sleep wouldn't prevent him from sensing the presence of another mind – but there was nothing. No telepathic impression of whoever had just startled him.
Adren moved like a frightened animal, glancing this way and that in search of the speaker. It took him a moment to find her.
She wore earth tones: brown pants and a dark-green sweater that she had unzipped to show just a hint of cleavage. Most striking, however, was the way that she hid her face inside a hood so that only the tip of her chin was visible. “I thought we should talk,” she said. “You know…Before Lenai inevitably finds you, outwits you and throws you into one of those excessively comfortable holding cells.”
“Who are you?” Adren spat.
“No one of consequence.”
Adren scrambled to his feet and then backed up until his butt hit a tree. He doubled over, a ragged breath escaping him. “How did you find me?” This scrap of woodland by a small park was still close enough to civilization to mask his presence in the din of other minds. Finding him should have been impossible.
“Ah,” the woman said, hopping down from her perch on a rock and striding toward him with arms swinging. “So, we have to go through this song and dance, do we? Well, I suppose it was too much to hope that you would take note of my having done something impossible and then defer to my wisdom.”
“Who are you?”
She planted fists on her hips and looked up so that sunlight illuminated her face. A pretty face, but not one Adren recognized. “I serve the Inzari,” she said. “And if you are wise, you will do the same. They find your talents desirable.”
She gestured to the side.
Something rippled in the forest, moving between the trees with a sound that was somehow a moan and a rasping breath at the same time. There was nothing to see: only a strange shimmer that you might miss if you blinked. But he felt it. A powerful mind, one unlike anything he had experienced before.
Adren felt sweat oozing from his pores. “What is that thing?” he croaked, pressing his body to the tree trunk. “By the Gods, what kind of monstrosity did you bring into my life.”
The hooded woman replied with a knowing smile. “You would call it an Overseer,” she explained. “This, my friend, is how I found you.”
“What do you want?”
“Why you, of course.”
Adren felt the blood drain out of his face. Despite himself, he couldn't find the will to look at that thing. Bad enough that he should have to sense it. Thoughts flickered in his mind, most indecipherable to him, but he recognized an image of his world, and one of Leyria as well.
“We have an offer to make,” the woman said.
“Forget it!” Adren growled. “I want nothing to do with you.”
Crossing her arms, the woman stared down her nose at him. “Oh yes,” she said, her eyebrows rising. “Because you've done so well on your own. Look at you, cowering in a forest. How many days since your last meal, Adren?”
He flinched at the question. How did she know? Getting food was a simple matter of visiting one of the many dispensers throughout this city, but doing so would certainly mean putting himself in front of security cameras that were programmed to recognize his face. If he tried, the police would be on him in moments.
Adren didn't fear them.
He did fear that Justice Keeper.
As if sensing his thoughts, the woman showed him a mocking grin. “Come with us, Adren,” she urged. “You can be of use to the Inzari. I guarantee that we will feed you and much, much more.”
“I bow to no one!” he insisted.
The woman gave a start, taken aback by his words. “I wouldn't dream of it,” she said, stepping forward and offering her hand. “Come on…At least hear what we have to offer.”
Sitting at one of the round tables in the police station's small cafeteria, Rajel felt the warm sunlight streaming in through the window on his left. Truth be told, the heat was a little uncomfortable, but he didn't complain.
He tapped his plate of broccoli, chicken and rice with a fork, lost in thought. There had been no sign of the telepath since Anna's confrontation with him two nights ago, and that left Rajel feeling uneasy. Really, anything to do with telepaths made him uneasy. No one should be able to violate the sanctity of another person's mind.
And Keli…
Why his colleagues insisted on trusting her was beyond him. Maybe it was because they hadn't grown up in a society where mind readers were treated like royalty and the rights of ordinary people vanished the instant that telepaths decided to violate them. How could they be sure that Keli wasn't protecting this Adren?
His Nassai grew uncomfortable with the direction of his musings; it never missed an opportunity to remind him that his attitude toward telepaths was intolerable. In fact, it had warned Rajel, during one of their many communions, that if he had displayed such prejudice at their first meeting, it would have rejected him as a host.
He felt a pang of guilt at that.
As a younger man, Rajel would often check himself when his simmering frustration with telepaths got out of hand. His symbiont would often remind him that such frustration was understandable in light of the ableist attitudes that permeated Antauran Society, but it would also point out that a telepath had no more say in the circumstances of their birth than he did. And that actions were the true measure of a man's soul.
Years ago, Rajel had pushed himself to remember that, but lately…Lately, he just didn't have the energy.
He sensed it when the cafeteria door swung inward to admit a very energetic Cassi Seyrus. The young woman wore long pants and a light jacket over her tank-top, and her face was stern as she approached his table. “Motivation,” she said. “That's the key. We figure out why Adren is doing this.”
Rajel shot a glance in her direction, frowning thoughtfully as he contemplated her words. “Looking” at people was becoming a habit now that he could sense their position. “You want to know why Adren does what he does?” he said. “He's a telepath. That smug sense of superiority comes built in.”
His Nassai grew angry.
Cassi took a seat a quarter way around the table from him, facing the window with a skeptical expression. “Maybe,” she muttered. “But several years in a maximum security prison? That's a big risk for some ego stroking.”
“Well, why do you think he does it?”
Cassi was stumped; he could tell.
With an exasperated sigh, Rajel leaned back and folded his arms. “Let's review it,” he said. “The guy terrorizes people; he receives no material benefit from it. He leaves an obvious trail of victims.”
“Right.”
“That video of him in the food court.” Rajel wished he could have seen it for himself, but the computer's narrated description would have to do. At least it gave him a sense of what had happened. “That was showboating.”
“Okay,” Cassi said. “Point taken.”
Rajel shoveled a few forkfuls of rice into his mouth. “Trust me,” he said, voice muffled by the food he was still chewing. “That's what telepaths are. They've been told all their lives that they're genetically superior, and that manifests in a sense of extreme entitlement.”
Cassi looked at him, her brow furrowing as if she wasn't entirely sure that she had heard him correctly. “What did they do to you?” she mumbled. “Did a telepath go poking through your mind without permission.”
“No, it's nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
“Genetic superiority,” Rajel said. “Antauran society is centred around that concept. The Overseers told us that they separated us because we were the best of humanity, and telepaths are, for many people, substantive proof of that. Our world is the only one that produces telepaths. We treat them like kings and queens because the rest of us feel better by association.
“Now you can't have a society dedicated to the concept of genetic superiority that doesn't mistreat people who are born with a disability. I was on the bottom; the telepaths were on top. It's hard not to resent them.”
“That's it?”
Rajel couldn't suppress the mocking smile that blossomed. He shook his head with soft laughter. “You say that as if there needs to be something more,” he countered. “Cassi, you grew up on a world where you never had to learn what it's like to be a second-class citizen. You can't understand my anger.”
She looked crestfallen, dropping her gaze to stare into her lap. Her shoulders came up in what might have been a shrug. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to offend you.”
“You didn't.”
“You're right, I can't imagine-”
Once again, the doors swung open, and this time it was Keli Armana who strolled in, trailed by two uniformed officers. She spared them a glance, and they quickly shuffled past her to find a spot at an empty table.
There were only about half a dozen people here, eating lunch. Plenty of seats to choose from, but of course, Keli glided toward Rajel's table with a big smile on her face. “Good afternoon,” she said, nodding to them.
“Hi,” Cassi replied.
Rajel said nothing.
The telepath sat down across from him, lounging in that plastic chair as if it were a throne. “I thought you'd both like to know,” she began. “Adren's victims are becoming more proficient at blocking telepathic attacks.”