by R S Penney
Jack sat down with his back pressed to one wall, his hands folded behind his head as he stared off into space. “Yup,” he mumbled. “Just gonna catch up on sleep. Maybe do a little daydreaming and then go insane from the solitary confinement.”
For a few blissful moments, he was just conscious enough to know that there was something he was trying not to think about, something he could avoid if he stayed asleep just a little while longer. Then it all came flooding back into his mind. His capture by the Ragnosians. The loss of the shuttle. The fact that the person he loved most in the world probably thought he was dead.
Jack's eyes opened.
His mouth stretched into a yawn that he covered with one hand, and then he sat up. “Sleeping on the floor is great,” he said, loud enough for anyone who might be listening to hear. “How 'bout you guys come join me and my fun, new scoliosis?”
No response.
Jack stood up, stretching fists above his head and yawning again despite himself. “Or we could just talk!” He began a slow circuit of his cell. Somehow, he had the distinct impression that pacing would be a theme for his stint in the SHU.
He stopped in front of the windows, craning his neck and blinking up at his captors. “I like to think of myself as being pretty laid back!” he shouted. “But no joke, if you guys keep ignoring me, I'm gonna start taking it personally.”
The rational part of his mind said that he wouldn't accomplish anything by putting on this show. Except maybe making his voice hoarse. But screw the rational part of his mind. Being stuck in a cell was annoying, and if he had to be miserable, well then damn it, he was going to make sure he had some company.
Jack turned around, leaning against the wall beneath the windows with his arms folded. “At least I have you, Sum.” It dawned on him that his Nassai might just be the one thing that kept him from going bonkers. At the very least, he would have somebody to talk to, and-
A sudden flash of anxiety hit him hard, like a blade made of ice shoved right into his heart. It was profound, and yet…distant somehow. When he collected his thoughts, he realized that he really didn't have an explanation for this new wave of fear. Jack had been operating with a kind of low-grade anxiety ever since they pulled in his shuttle, but so far, his captors had done nothing to harm him.
Except it wasn't his anxiety. As insane as that sounded, somehow he just knew that it wasn't his…It was Anna's. She was afraid for him, terrified.
Closing his eyes, Jack focused on his love for her, on the warmth he felt whenever he thought of her. It was so hard to stop a slow smile from blossoming. He almost started laughing. That should entertain his captors.
It was stupid – the kind of silliness that you were supposed to outgrow by the age of fourteen – but he hoped that, somehow, Anna felt his presence. That she knew he was all right. Come find me, he thought at her.
Which was even more stupid.
Even disregarding the fact that he had no telepathic talent, and neither did Anna, a telepathic signal was like any other electromagnetic wave; it traveled at the Speed of Light, and he was over a hundred lightyears away from Leyria. Assuming, of course, that his captors had remained in the Oniara system. There was no way to tell from in here. But he tried anyway, sending good thoughts to his girlfriend and hoping, praying, that Anna got the message. Silly or not, he was pretty damn sure that he felt something else from her. Fear and grief, but also…resolve.
The heavy door opened to reveal a guard in an armoured vest and a gray helmet with the visor down. He stepped into the cell, moving aside so that a second guard could follow him in.
Jack strode toward them, tossing his hands up. “Finally!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “I try to be patient, but this party was getting dull.”
One of the guards frowned at him, then began pacing around the perimeter of the cell. The other one just stood in front of the door with arms crossed, glaring at Jack. What were they up to?
When the door slid shut again, Jack was very nervous. He could dream up several reasons why they might lock two guards in with a prisoner, and none of them were good. He felt Summer grow tense, her anxiety mirroring his own.
Guard Number-1 just stood by the door, glowering at Jack and shaking his head. The man said nothing, gave no indication of his intentions.
Guard Number-2 had traveled almost halfway around the cell when he came to an abrupt halt, positioning himself directly behind Jack. Oh no…This was going to go badly. Jack's worst fears were confirmed when they both drew stun-batons from their belts. An electric hum filled the air as their weapons sparked to life.
Wincing, Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course,” he said. “Well, let's get this over with, shall we?”
In unison, both men started toward him, trying to converge on Jack from both directions. Like he was going to let them get away with that shit! Did these people know nothing about Justice Keepers?
He broke into a full sprint toward Number-1, watching as the man took a surprised step backward and raised his crackling weapon defensively. Spatial awareness let him see Number 2 struggling to catch up.
Jack got within arm's reach.
Number-1 swung at his head.
Jack leaned back, the sparking tip of that baton passing within inches of his nose. He snapped upright and threw a fierce punch that smashed the guard's visor. His enemy danced backward.
Number-2 was coming up from behind.
Jack jumped, curling his legs as he rose, allowing the other man to run past beneath him. He landed just behind Number-2, then kicked the guy square in the ass, sending him sprawling forward.
Both guards collided in a tangle, and Number-1 did a little twirl, tossing his partner to the floor. The man turned his head, his face becoming a vicious snarl behind a cracked visor.
He lunged with the stun-baton.
Jack twisted on the spot, turning his body sideways and seizing the man's extended arm with both hands. Using his momentum, Jack completed his spin and hurled the guard face-first into the wall. The sound of a plastic helmet rebounding off the metal bulkhead was almost painful to hear.
When he came around, Number-2 was rising. The man still clutched a stun-baton in his right hand. With a feral shriek, he rushed forward and tried to stab it into Jack's face.
Hopping back, Jack felt the weapon come close enough to make his hair stand up. He kicked hard, driving a shoe into the other man's stomach. The pain made Number-2 bend double with a gasp.
A second kick to the face knocked the man unconscious. Number-2 toppled over, landing stretched out on his side with the stun-baton rolling away from his limp fingers. It crackled when the electrified tip touched the floor.
Jack squatted over the body.
He took the baton and held it up in front of himself, watching as sparks flew from the tip. “All right,” he said. “Let's end this.”
He rose in one fluid motion, whirling around with one hand flying out to throw the baton. It flew as straight as an arrow toward Number-1, who turned around just in time to receive an electrified stick to the throat. The man spasmed as current went through him, then collapsed to the floor.
As she watched the young Justice Keeper through a pane of tinted glass, Admiral Telixa Ethran felt the breath catch in her throat. The boy had defeated two of her most-skilled security officers in seconds, and so far as she could see, not one of her men had been able to land a hit.
Sitting forward with a hand covering her mouth, Telixa felt her eyes flick back and forth. “Amazing,” she murmured. “We've heard rumors of what these people can do, but I never would have imagined.”
Lieutenant Carene Velask, a young woman with a long braid of dark hair who wore her uniform well, stood with fists balled. “Sensors didn't detect any artificial warp fields,” she said. “The Keeper didn't use any of his special abilities.”
Telixa's eyebrows shot up.
That the boy could do that much without even relying on his fabled powers…She had seen the footage of
Grecken Slade disabling the gravity generator on Racada Island – all high-ranking officers had – but witnessing a Justice Keeper's fighting prowess with her own eyes was something else entirely. Perhaps an incursion into Leyrian Space had been ill-advised. There could be thousands more like this young man.
Squinting through the window, Telixa shook her head. “I want this cell monitored at all times,” she insisted. “Not from the security office. I want at least two officers in this room and three more outside.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Valesk said. “Shall I schedule another test?”
“Not yet. Let the Justice Keeper rest.” Another thought occurred to her on top of the last. “And see that he's fed.”
“Ma'am?”
Telixa sat back with hands gripping the armrests of her chair, breathing out slowly. “I don't want to work him to exhaustion,” she explained. “I want to see what the young man can do when he's at his best.”
Valesk shot a glance in her direction, the young woman's stony mask slipping for just a moment, betraying a hint of concern. “What about Raan and Voharin?” she asked. “They're both unconscious and stuck in there with the Justice Keeper.”
Standing up slowly, Telixa grunted and then shrugged her shoulders. “Leave them,” she ordered. “I'm not willing to risk what might happen if we send more men in there. If the Justice Keeper kills them, we'll have learned something else.”
Chapter 18
The double doors to the detention centre in Justice Keeper Headquarters were shut tight, and Keli could almost see her reflection in their shiny metal surface. The last time she had been here, she and Tanaben had tried to extract information from Isara, and that encounter had not gone well.
At her side, Jon Andalon stood with hands in the pockets of his black jacket. The man was handsome enough with a chiseled jaw and dark hair that he kept buzzed. Keli supposed that many people found him attractive. Sometimes, she wondered why she did not. Sometimes, she wondered why she was unable to feel that way about anyone that she met, man or woman. “You're sure you want to do this?” Jon asked.
“No,” she admitted. “But I am sure it's necessary.”
The double doors slid apart, and Keli recognized the reception areas she had seen on her last visit. Once upon a time, a single Keeper would have been on duty. Now, there were three. The desk along the back wall was occupied by a single woman with long, auburn hair, but two men stood behind her.
One was tall and lean with tilted eyes and close-cropped black hair. The other was pale with golden curls and a thin goatee. Keepers, all three. Keli could sense their Nassai. And they were armed. Larani Tal had stepped up security after the incident with Jensen Noralis. If there was a chance that one Keeper might be a traitor, then it just made sense to have the prisoners guarded by a team of them.
There were two battle drones as well, each standing in an opposite corner. Well, not the kind that Keli had seen in vid footage; these were smaller and thinner with wiry arms, and she suspected they would only use non-lethal ammunition.
The woman behind the desk looked up to lock eyes with Keli, then nodded once. “Ms. Armana,” she said. “The interrogation rooms are on your right.”
With a little effort, Keli was able to project a cool demeanour, but she returned the woman's nod of respect. “Thank you,” she replied. “You may send the prisoner in at your convenience; I will be ready.”
Another set of doors led to a hallway with windows in one wall that looked into a series of identical rooms. Each one had a single table with metal chairs and bright lights in the ceiling. Keli did not need her eyes to know which one they would be using. She felt the presence of two more humans.
Once inside, she found an older gentleman with spectacles and a ring of dark hair around his bald head seated directly across from the door. “Ah,” he said, though it was really more of a grunt. “The other telepath. Well, good. My client has been waiting long enough.”
A woman who was just shy of her middle years stood by the window in a red skirt and a matching three-quarter top. Short and slim, with deep brown skin and black hair that she wore in a bun, she was likely the sort who turned heads wherever she went. And yet Keli felt nothing.
Being surrounded by ordinary humans and the near-constant chatter of their sexual thoughts had caused Keli to question her own feelings in that regard. And she was a little perplexed to discover that she didn't seem to have any.
“Calm yourself, Tobias,” the woman said. Clearly, she was the prosecuting attorney in this case.
“My client has rights,” the bespectacled man protested.
“No one is disputing that.”
Without comment, Keli chose a seat near the door, folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently for this circus to get underway. The female attorney shot a glance in her direction but said nothing.
A moment later, the door opened to allow Adren to stumble through, followed by a rather put-out Jon Andalon. The young telepath looked as if he had been living outdoors for a week; his hair was unkempt, his face pale. And the slaver's collar around his neck didn't help matters. Keli understood the necessity, but she didn't have to like it.
Of course, Adren had just endured days in a cell, and that had a way of draining a person. Keli sympathized, but she could not say she was all that upset about it. This man had chosen his fate. And besides, Leyrian cells were a palace compared to the cramped little box in which she had spent much of her life. The man claimed a seat directly across from Keli, which made her uneasy.
Jon sat down with his back to the door, leaned over the table with his arms folded and glowered at the telepath. “We'd like to ask you some questions,” he said. “How you answer may determine the possibility of a plea deal.”
Adren gave him a withering glare and said nothing.
“Ms. Treval,” Jon said.
The female lawyer approached the table, pulled a chair back and dropped into it. She swiped a finger across a Smartglass tablet and skimmed the report that came up. “At the moment, you stand accused of twenty-two counts of Class-1 Aggravated Assault,” she said. “We're willing to consider the possibility of reducing that to a Class-2 charge if you answer our questions.”
“What do you want to know?” Adren spat.
“For starters,” Jon said. “How you got onto this planet.”
Adren showed his teeth in something between a sneer and a snarl, then shook his head. “You act as if it should have been difficult,” he muttered. “I boarded a ship. It flew here. I got off.”
“Which ship?”
Cocking his head to one side, Adren turned that sharp gaze upon Jon. “I can't recall the name,” he said. “I don't really pay attention to such things.”
“If you want a plea deal-”
Adren flung himself against the back of his chair, tossed his head back and tittered. “I don't want a plea deal!” he shouted. “I don't care what you maggots do to me. It's well past the point where that would matter.”
“Adren!” the bald lawyer snapped, rising from his chair and watching the telepath over the rims of his glasses. “I would urge you to speak cautiously.”
“What do you want?” Jon inquired.
Keli already knew the answer. Maybe it was her talent – or maybe it was just the man's body language – but she could feel it radiating off him. Adren's scrutiny made her want to take a bath. “I want her,” he said. “Keli and I have much to discuss.”
“I have nothing to say to you!” she spat without thinking. “As far as I'm concerned, you can rot in your cell.”
Ignoring her object, Adren twisted around to face Jon, set his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on laced fingers. “I'll tell you everything you want to know,” he said. “If Ms. Armana conducts the interrogation.”
Keli shut her eyes so tight she trembled. Her lips peeled back, and she sucked air through her teeth. “Well, that's not going to be happening,” she said, rising from her seat. “Go ahead and rot; we're done here.”
In the neighbouring hallway, Keli stood with arms crossed, shivering as she let out a ragged breath. “Calm yourself,” she whispered. “No one can force you to conduct that interrogation.”
The spike of emotional urgency was followed by the door swinging open and Jon coming out behind her. “Keli?” he began in a gentle voice. “Are you all right?”
His concern was genuine; she could feel it even with the presence of his Nassai. “I will be,” she answered. “That loathsome creature you have in there…You cannot imagine what it's like to be in his mind.”
Normally, having someone get within arm's reach triggered some kind of fight or flight response that she had to struggle to restrain, but Jon was close enough for her to feel his body heat, and he laid a hand on her shoulder without setting off her defenses. “You don't have to do it.”
She whirled around to face him.
Craning her neck to gaze into his eyes, Keli blinked a few times. “I know that,” she said. “But it occurs to me that you do need answers.”
He licked his lips, closed his eyes and bowed his head to her. “That's true,” he said. “I suppose…Just think about it. No one will force you to do anything that you don't want to do. I promise.”
It occurred to her that interrogating Adren might give her the chance to learn more about the Overseer he had encountered. As much as it terrified her, a part of her hungered to sate that curiosity. But Adren's mind was not so different from those of the people who had held her captive. She was not eager to share his thoughts again, and any interrogation would have to involve telepathic contact. “All right,” she said. “Give me a day. I will let you know in the morning.”
Melissa stood by the living room window in green jeans and a thick, white sweater, her raven-dark hair pulled back in a clip. Outside, the deep blue of twilight had settled over the quiet residential street on which her family lived. It was a pretty evening, but she felt sick inside. Anna had delivered the terrible news earlier that afternoon. First Raynar, then Jena, then Ben. Melissa didn't think she could take another loss. Certainly not Jack, of all people. Aside from her father, he was the member of their little group that she had known the longest. She used to have a crush on him. “So many people gone,” Harry said, echoing her thoughts.