Flame Wind

by Tim Niederriter

  Vomont hissed in a breath but said nothing.

  Jalee flushed.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Firio shook his head. He put a hand on Jalee’s shoulder.

  “Don’t be sorry. You pointed out a serious issue. I will never get used to this mind control nonsense.”

  Yajain glanced at Mosam.

  “The two of us will do our best. Right?”

  “For all our sakes, yes,” he said. “Trust me.”

  She turned to Vomont.

  “Can you get in touch with your local contacts? If we can find a way to get more people searching in the settlement we’ll have better chances to find any tyrant agents.”

  “Shrewd. I’ll reach out at once.” Vomont flipped open a public channel communicator.

  “There is another party twelve hours from now,” said Firio.

  “We’ll get some rest,” said Mosam. “I want to be fresh, given the potential threats.”

  Yajain nodded.

  “I want to speak with Gellen Chakal. We’ll need to know everything we can about tyrant abilities if we’re going to take precautions against them.”

  Firio turned to Jalee.

  “Rating Avencia, show the doctors to our personnel shuttle, then return. There’s still work to do here.”

  “Yes, captain.”

  Yajain and Mosam followed Jalee to the shuttle docks, then took the next flight to Castenlock.

  Gellen met Yajain at her office aboard Castenlock while guards took Mosam to his quarters. Yajain half-expected him to say something more when they parted. He didn’t, just nodded to her before being led away.

  The office of a fleet liaison aboard an explorer class vessel proved more spacious than any cabin aboard a ranger. Yajain hit the request button on the door. Gellen let her in at once. As the door slid open, Gellen lifted her head, trailing cables mingled with her hair from the back of her head. Her gaze appeared blind, not focusing on Yajain. She blinked twice, then her eyes returned to normal.

  “Excuse me, doctor. I was communing with Ija.”

  “How is her war going?”

  Gellen shrugged.

  “It is a war. For now, at least, our forces seem up to their tasks. I hope it stays that way.” She sighed. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I think so.” Yajain sat down opposite Gellen. “I need to know more about long-term tyrant control.”

  Gellen nodded.

  “I wondered when this conversation would come. I didn’t expect it to be you, however, given how you breathed the cloud as well.”

  “The effects only touched me for minutes,” said Yajain. “Command is worried there could be agents in the sorai settlements. I want to know anything that could help me spot one.”

  “You’re going back, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you found your answer to Ija’s question yet. About Mosam Coe?”

  “I’m trying,” said Yajain softly.

  “Of course. I’ll give you what help I can. The tyrant co-opted my first officer before it took control of me. It never used a parasite on either of us. The reality is hard enough to recall.” Gellen shuddered. “As you experienced, the feelings begin as an intense sense of friendship between you and the creature. After a few days in that state, I began to feel less in control…of myself. It was as though my limbs would move on their own at times. I said things against my will.”

  “The tyrant’s pollen must have adapted to your system by that point,” said Yajain. “Could you resist in any way after that?”

  Gellen nodded.

  “I sent messages to Ija using my link. The pollen seemed to have no power over my implant. However, my will belonged to the tyrant, so I never asked her to have my subordinates remove me from command.”

  “It must have reached your brain, then,” said Yajain. “That is terrifying.”

  Gellen closed her eyes.

  “I fear there was little I could do to signal my state. I was a prisoner in my own body. Only when it wanted me to act against my deepest nature did I have any sense I could resist, and then I was only able to slow my actions slightly.”

  “That could be important. What kind of actions could you resist?”

  “Giving the order to disobey Ija and pursue the relief fleet was the only time I felt so strongly. You must understand, doctor, before I joined Ija’s service my life was very different. As a young woman, I lied and stole. I broke laws in Dilinia and beyond. Ten years ago that all changed for the better.”

  “Ija helped you reform.”

  “Yes. I owe everything I am now to her.”

  Yajain bowed her head.

  “Thank you for telling me this. I’ll look for a way to test people by their nature.”

  “Good luck.”

  Yajain rose and left Gellen’s office for her quarters aboard Solnakite. She hoped she could figure a way to determine someone’s nature fast enough for Gellen’s story to be useful. If anything, things only seemed more difficult now, given the party saw her surrounded by strangers. Perhaps she could guess what people she knew as well as Firio or Dara would value deep down, but these wealthy sorai exiles were new to her.

  She slept uneasily for a few hours, then rose in time to prepare for Elder Patla’s next party.

  The party was in an entirely different ballroom from the earlier masquerade. Yajain and Mosam arrived on the shadow side of Haxos and made their way into the party across a series of mobile platforms and floating arc walkways. Towering out-grown trees with long branches weeping leaves ran with rivulets of water filtered from the condensers above the settlement.

  Yajain marveled for a moment at the transplanted tree species, which she had seen nowhere else on the frontier, but recognized as native to Escarian Expanse where the sorai culture centered. She had never seen so many of them up close.

  Mosam whistled.

  “Weepers, and not just any weepers,” he said.

  She glanced at him. His black overcoat glittered with a sprinkling of raindrops.

  “Yeah. They’re mostly Escarian Willow.”

  “Good eye.”

  “They’re beautiful. I wish they were in bloom. They’re not called the willows of paradise for nothing.”

  “I saw a stand of them once as a kid.” Mosam nodded. “Flowers with more colors than I knew existed.”

  She smiled, then hitched the shimmering green and blue skirt of her dress with one hand. She offered him the other. He reached for her, then hesitated.

  “What brought this on?”

  “For our entrance march only,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s not for you. We need to fit in if we’re going to look for spies.”

  “I understand.”

  They walked toward the inner chambers, crossing another floating bridge, it’s arc suspension completely stable and its railings aglow with paired blue-white lamps at each end. They joined a collection of sorai of means, each couple holding hands. This was no masquerade, but the flurry of colors, the profusion of patterns and styles dazzled Yajain even more than the holographic suits.

  She couldn’t help but notice how Mosam watched the other attendees. His green eyes could pierce a heart, but seeing through the artifice and beauty all around them would be difficult for anyone. Yajain knew because she felt swept up in the glamor. If only the hand she held didn’t belong to the man who crippled her sister.

  The thought of Lin brought her to her senses as they made their way to the burly man announcing each new attendee as they arrived. He extended his feelers from his brows as they approached.

  “Not sorai, eh?” he asked.

  “We’re visitors from the fleet, invited by Elder Patla. My name is Yajain Aksari.”

  “Of course. Doctors Coe and Aksari. Go ahead.”

  “Thank you,” Yajain said.

  She and Mosam entered the sh
adow side ballroom, its walls marked with the shaped and sculpted roots of the many willows extending their branches outside. Walls of white marble shot with cobalt veins lit by lamps the same pale blue as those on the bridges outside glowed bright. Within, dozens of attendees danced, talked, and drank.

  The smell of sweet alcohol permeated the air on the side of the room with the bar. Servants moved between richly dressed guests, offering small plates of appetizers or glasses containing vibrantly colored microdoses of fluid drugs. She remembered using Patla’s fluid smoke in her room above the masquerade, but the stimulants here appeared far more mundane, most likely means to enhance the user’s senses and fuel impulsive actions. She wondered if perhaps any of these had hallucinogenic properties as well, given the sheer decadence on display.

  As they moved through the entrance in a procession of arriving guests, Yajain noticed a heavyset bald man with both feelers on his brows twisting in search of sensory data. He wore a white suit with slender violet winglets draped over the shoulders for decoration. His eyes followed Yajain as they walked. She released Mosam’s hand and started to make her way gradually in the big man’s direction, doing her best to move surreptitiously.

  Mosam followed her at a distance, greeting other guests as they moved through the crowd.

  The bald man ahead of Yajain turned toward her. He gave a smile so wide and beaming he looked like an infant.

  “Doctor Aksari, I presume. My name is Caisdon Suront, board member and founder of Suront-Nasaida corporation, and I am at your service.”

  Yajain smiled Caisdon, unable to help the expression thanks to his infectious enthusiasm.

  “Good to meet you, Mister Suront. What are you doing out on the frontier?”

  “Why, I suppose you haven’t followed the business world, Doctor Aksari.” Caisdon shrugged. “Think nothing of it, but my dear I live in this settlement. I must continue my duties on the board only via proxy, unfortunately.” His smile never slipped. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “My apologies,” said Yajain. “I suppose a weapons manufacturer wouldn’t escape judgment at the end of the last war.”

  “You suppose correctly,” said Caisdon, smile returning. “But I must say exile suits me well enough lately. Especially since the return of my niece and her fiancee to the settlement here on Haxos.”

  “Your niece?”

  “Oh, they’re both here, somewhere,” said Caisdon.

  “Where have they returned from?”

  “The Unified Fleet, of course. He’s an officer and adviser, and she’s following in her mother’s footsteps.” He leaned closer to Yajain and lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I wouldn’t recommend intelligence operations as a career.”

  Yajain raised an eyebrow.

  “Your niece is an operative?” She matched his low volume.

  “For now. I hope to discourage her, but we shall see. The fleet is on its way back to Haxos, and doctor, I fear there may be action nearer to us than we previously considered.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Only a rumor. DiKandar always brings trouble with her, according to the elders.”

  “When you say the elders, does that include Csi Patla?”

  “Indeed it does. She remembers the last war all too clearly, the fall of Escaria.”

  “Escaria…”

  “Together with Morlitia, it is still the center of sorai culture.” He produced a tissue with his sleeve and dabbed at his eyes. “Ah, forgive me. It has been too long since I saw the central clusters.”

  “I understand. I miss my home expanses too, at times, and I’m allowed to return to them, at least in theory.”

  “Consider yourself lucky. Though much was lost in the last war, it is better to avoid war any day.”

  “Yet, here we are. The Empress sent so many people to this frontier to get rid of them, but now the greatest threat to humanity is against you first.” Yajain glanced at Mosam who was moving through the party in the opposite direction. She sighed.

  “I take it Doctor Coe has you ill at ease.”

  “He always does,” said Yajain.

  “Quite a strange man, if I may say so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To pursue the life of a priest, even one with a different title, requires a personality that baffles me.”

  “He’s a true believer.”

  “I can’t say the same.” Caisdon shrugged. “But a party like this is no place for such subjects.”

  “Would you rather discuss war?”

  “Perhaps. The vacancies in our discourse shouldn’t be forced. I suppose that one, in particular, makes me uncomfortable.”

  “I see what you mean,” Yajain said.

  Caisdon motioned to a nearby server with a platter of appetizers.

  “Anything for you?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He scooped up a piece of fried dough in the shape of a flower and took a meticulous bite.

  Yajain nodded to him.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I should look for Doctor Coe before he finds some kind of trouble.”

  “Of course. A pleasure speaking with you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Yajain searched through the party-goers until she found Mosam talking to a young couple. He turned as she approached.

  “Yajain, may I introduce Iswenn Kaidal and her fiancee, Flight Officer Unoban Dask.”

  Unoban nodded to Yajain, a small smile on his lips.

  “Hello,” said Yajain. “I’m Yajain Aksari.”

  Unoban nodded.

  “Izzie and I just returned to Haxos.”

  Iswenn stepped forward and offered Yajain her hand.

  “I believe you were just speaking with my uncle,” said Iswenn with a smile at Yajain that quickly reminded her of Caisdon. Her dark eyes sparkled in the same way, despite little other family resemblance. “He’s always been friendly with strangers.”

  “I noticed.” Yajain smiled. “He was more than forthcoming with details about the situation here in Yugha.”

  “Was he now?” Unoban folded his arms. “I take it he is as aware as Doctor Coe of Elder Patla’s decision to remain uninvolved with external conflicts.”

  “I believe he is.” Yajain glanced at Mosam. “You told them about our meeting with the elder?”

  “It seemed only reasonable. I doubt it matters how they learn the situation.”

  “I am grateful for your candor, Doctor Coe.” Iswenn shook Yajain’s hand, then turned to Mosam. “Indeed, the elders don’t tell even their children much. And those of us without a direct connection to the governing council are often less informed than I personally like.”

  Yajain frowned.

  “You mean, the elders keep to themselves. That seems a little odd.”

  “It was not this way in the last war, my uncle assures me,” said Iswenn. “However, since the youth were instrumental in negotiating Escaria’s surrender I think those elders who reigned there hold a kind of grudge against the younger generations.”

  “That sounds difficult,” Yajain said.

  “It is.” Unoban shrugged. “But we grew up this way.”

  “Quite so. But you two have come a long way to be here. Please tell me, how did you both find your way to the frontier?”

  Yajain reached for a glass from a servant, not wishing to share her reasons for joining the relief fleet. She took the wine and sipped it. Mosam caught Iswenn’s attention with a chuckle.

  “I traveled to Kerida with Doctor Onnu Savar, my mentor.”

  “Savar?” said Iswenn. “That name sounds familiar, but I’m not sure from where.”

  Yajain started, lowering the glass from her lips. The bitter taste of wine lingered on her tongue.

  “Savar is a criminal in Dilinia,” she said.

  “So am I, come to that.” Mosam sighed.

  Unoban turned Yajain.

  “I take it your reasonin
g is more mundane? A doctor joining a relief fleet seems reasonable on its face.”

  Yajain nodded, grateful for his assumption.

  “That’s right,” she said. “You guess well.”

  “But of course.” Unoban smiled at Iswenn.

  “It’s one of his better aspects,” said Iswenn.

  Yajain forced a small laugh, then sipped the wine again. Mosam touched her arm.

  “Yajain,” he said. “Perhaps we should examine the weepers before it gets too dark outside.”

  She glanced at him. His green eyes gleamed with intent. Yajain turned to Iswenn and Unoban.

  “Nice meeting you,” she said.

  “Likewise.” Iswenn nodded. “Perhaps we’ll see each other again.”

  She let Mosam lead her to the platform at the entrance of the hall. Once outside in the shadows of a weeper’s long branches, lit only from behind by the lanterns, Mosam took his hand from her arm. His jaw set.

  “They’re under control,” he said.

  “Those two?” Yajain raised her eyebrows. “How could you tell?”

  He pulled the sleeve of his suit back, revealing a device clipped to the cybernetic compartment on his forearm, a miniaturized air-chemistry sensor.

  “I detected the pollen in them. Didn’t expect to find agents so fast.”

  “There could be more of them, then,” said Yajain with a scowl.

  “Most likely, yes.” Mosam shook his head. “But we only need to expose those two to prove the tyrants are threatening Yugha. Hopefully, that will be enough to bring Patla’s assistance to the fleet.”

  Yajain nodded.

  “I liked them.”

  “Me too,” said Mosam. “Seems the tyrants saw an opportunity there.”

  She put her hands on the chill metal railing overlooking the drop into the arc field. Mist moved in from the corridor and drifted in clouds over the abyss. Yajain gripped the railing with her bare hands, despite the cold. They’d found the agents too soon, too easily.

  “They could have planned for this,” she said. “The tyrants had to know you would notice them.”

  “They’re not all-powerful or all-knowing but I see your point. We’ll need back up to keep other agents off our backs while we expose them.”