by R S Penney
“You're not gonna do that thing where you insist on being present for every step of the process? You know, the one where you feel as if you're a failure if you let your injury slow you down?”
“What do I look like? Some retired detective?”
It was hard not to snort at that, though she was thankful that Melissa wasn't around to hear it. Harry had been pushing himself way too hard. You'd think the man would give himself a break after a shot in the chest; even with Keeper powers, that wasn't something you just laughed off – she knew that better than anyone else – and Harry didn't have the ability to recover from grievous injuries in a matter of days.
An ordinary human being who took a non-lethal gunshot wound might be out of action for weeks or months, but you wouldn't know that to look at Harry Carlson. The man seemed to think that he could will himself into good health. And this plan had been doomed from the get-go.
Anna was quite happy to acknowledge Melissa's proficiency with combat. In fact, she was surprised by how well the young woman had mastered Jena's ability to improvise in a tight spot. So, fine. Melissa knew her home better than anyone else. It made sense to choose her for this mission.
But why did the altercation have to take place at Melissa's home in the first place? The only reason for it was the desire to use Harry as bait, and that was the part of the plan that Anna objected to. Putting an injured man in that situation? It was beyond stupid. But Harry had his mind made up…
When she looked up, Jon was watching her, sizing her up in a way that made her feel just a little uneasy. “You don't really need me at that meeting,” he said. “The truth is you do a fine job leading this bunch of misfits. You proved that on your last mission.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I have no doubt that one day you'll be team lead.”
Anna smiled into her lap, her face suddenly very warm. She rubbed her forehead with the back of one hand. “Haha…I guess I never really gave it much thought. But the idea does have a certain appeal.”
“You were made for that job.”
Jon closed his eyes, breathing slowly through his nose and then letting it out again. “Now, let a grizzled old Keeper get some rest,” he said softly. “They've got me on med-leave, and I intend to make the most of it.”
When his eyes opened, he found himself in a drafty room of stone walls where the small rectangular window looked out on an overcast day. The cot they had given him was hard, but he'd slept in worse conditions.
A glance to his left revealed a wooden table where a meal waited under a domed metal lid. He couldn't wait to discover what they had offered him. He very much doubted that it would be something he liked. Not after his failure.
Shirtless, Leo sat up and covered his face with one hand. “What happened to me?” he asked. “Did the doctors treat me.”
He didn't have to look to sense Valeth in the wooden chair by the door, sitting still with her hands in her lap. The woman was immaculate, long dark hair framing her olive-skinned face. “You broke several ribs in your fall,” she said. “The doctors repaired what they could and allowed your symbiont to do the rest.”
Leo scrunched his eyes tight, then shook his head so fast he actually made himself dizzy. “I failed!” he spat. “Where I come from, such incompetence is severely punished. Why haven't you killed me?”
“Resources should not be so easily discarded.”
Glancing in her direction, Leo narrowed his eyes. “That is what makes you weak.” He flung the blankets off himself and stood, unconcerned by the fact that he wore only a pair of shorts.
In one smooth motion, Valeth rose and glided toward him, smiling sweetly like a big sister who intended to impart some lesson. “Whether you realize it or not, you have kept our enemies off balance,” she said. “For now, Isara wants you to continue with your plan. But perhaps it's time to change tactics.”
“No,” Leo said. “No, I don't think so.”
The tiny woman stood in front of him, craning her neck to meet his gaze and then arching one eyebrow. “Oh no?” she asked. “You don't believe that failure merits a change in strategy?”
“You wanted Hunter and his friends distracted,” Leo said. “The best way to distract them is to cause them pain, and I think I know how to do it.”
Chapter 15
The line to use the SlipGate was fairly short; only three other people stood in front of him, under bright lights that shone down from a high ceiling. Windows in the walls to his left and his right looked out on gardens with colourful flowers.
In gray dress pants and a high-collared blue shirt, Ben stood with his arms folded, his hair pulled back into a short little ponytail. He had accepted the invitation to speak at the Tareli infosec conference despite his better judgment. A part of him wanted to shrink away from the spotlight, but it was time to stop apologizing for his past.
Ben shut his eyes and turned his face up to the ceiling. You have every right to be there, he told himself for the fifteenth time since leaving the house. They wouldn't have invited you if they didn't value your contributions.
A part of him was still angry about the fight with Jack, but it went deeper than that. He realized that he had been harbouring resentment for what felt like a betrayal for some time now. Maybe it was time to do something about it.
He rolled up his sleeve to expose the multi-tool on his right wrist and began tapping the screen. Seconds later, the words “Calling Jack Hunter” appeared on the screen, and he waited patiently for it to connect.
Jack's face appeared a moment later, blinking when he saw Ben. “Hey!” he said. “I didn't think I'd hear from you today.”
Ben felt his mouth tighten, then took a deep breath to soothe his nervousness. “I'm sorry for what I said the other night.” Apologizing was never easy for him. “I'll be giving a talk in Tareli this afternoon.”
“Really?”
“I was wondering if you'd come.”
Jack's face took on a thoughtful expression, but he nodded slowly as he thought it over. “This afternoon,” he said. “I think I can make it; what time are you on?”
“Eight and a half.”
Ben always worried that his Earth-born friends might have a little trouble adjusting to Leyrian timekeeping. On Leyria, the new day began a little before the hour of sunrise on the vernal equinox. Though Leyria had a twenty-four cycle nearly identical to that of Earth, Leyrians measured those hours differently.
Jack squinted at him, then nodded once in agreement. “Yeah, I can do Eight and a half,” he said. “I'll see you then.”
When the call ended, Ben let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and watched as the woman in front of him strode across the tiled floor to stand in front of one of the three SlipGates that stood side by side.
She turned to face him, staring off into space while a bubble appeared around her body. Then the bubble seemed to lurch forward and vanish, leaving only a metal triangle with grooves that were glowing bright.
Ben approached the console in front of his Gate.
Sliding his hand across its surface, he brought up a menu and selected Tareli as his destination. The screen flashed red and warned him that the all of the Gates in Tareli were currently in use and that he would have to wait. It would only take a few seconds. Unless some insensitive lout decided to linger in front of his SlipGate instead of moving aside. There were safety precautions designed to prevent a Gate from accepting an incoming traveler when a physical obstruction stood in the way.
Finally, the screen flashed green.
Tugging at the hem of his untucked shirt, Ben narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I must be nuts, he thought, approaching the Gate. No one is going to want to hear the words of a convicted criminal.
He turned his back on the Gate.
The warp bubble formed around him, making the line of people behind the console appear blurry to his eyes. He had just enough time to note the chilling silence that always happened when you stood in a small patch o
f space-time that was cut off from the rest of the universe, and then he was pulled forward, hurled through a dark tunnel that seemed to run on into infinity itself.
His bubble arrived on a raised platform where a skylight offered more than enough illumination for him to see the blurry images of people descending the stairs. In a matter of seconds, he had traveled almost five hundred kilometers.
The bubble popped.
He started forward at a brisk pace to make room for the next traveler. There were no consoles here; these SlipGates were only for incoming travelers. The outgoing Gates would be located elsewhere in the Hub, the building at the centre of this city.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped.
Tapping his lips with one finger, Ben closed his eyes and considered something he had been musing on for days now. You have to do it, he told himself. You're suffocating here, watching your talents go to waste.
Before he knew it, he was tapping at the screen of his multi-tool, placing another call. This was a call he had been trying to talk himself out of, a decision he didn't want to make, but his encounter with Larani the other day had made up his mind. Now, it was just a matter of finding the courage to go through with it.
When Keli answered the call, her round face was set in a grimace, and she shook her head. “What do you want?”
“You remember what we talked about the other day?”
“Yes…”
Ben frowned, the blood draining out of his face, but he found the willpower to say what he needed to say. “I'm in.”
The seat they had given Ben was in the front row of this auditorium, allowing him a perfect view of a stage where a lectern stood in the glare of floodlights on the ceiling. The woman who was up there now looked nervous.
Taller than average and slightly plump, she wore a dark brown skirt that matched her jacket and kept her gray hair up in a bun. She blinked through the thin lenses of her glasses as she waited for the crowd to settle down. That last talk had been quite exciting. Ben hadn't known the advantages of Disassembled Networking.
With any luck, the audience would find his talk just as interesting, but they were all buzzing now, the sound of conversation filling every corner of this room. No sign of Jack yet, but it had been a last-minute call, and the man had to come from Denabria.
Ben sat with his hands on the armrests, frowning as he stared up at the stage. You'll be fine, he told himself. After being shot at, knocked senseless and nearly bombed out of existence, public speaking is nothing.
“Tanaben.”
He looked up to find a man in a gray shirt coming toward his chair. This guy had a thick face with rosy cheeks and white hair that was thinning on top. “I'm Robel Tavari,” he said. “Chairman of the Panel.”
Ben was on his feet in an instant.
Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and tried to ignore the warmth in his face. “It's a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he spluttered. “I have to admit I was a little surprised by the invitation to speak.”
“You shouldn't be.”
“Sir?”
A wide grin on the other man's face told Ben that he'd already earned this fellow's respect. “We've reviewed your work quite thoroughly,” Tavari said. “You seem to have found new holes in a multi-tool's software that a hacker could exploit and devised new methods to deal with them.”
“If I'm honest, sir,” Ben replied in a shaky voice, “it's because I exploited several of those weaknesses myself.”
“Yes, I'd heard as much.”
Ben stiffened, his face contorting when he considered the implications of this man knowing about his checkered past. “Well, then you know that I have an awful lot to make up for,” he said. “Maybe more than I can make up for.”
When he looked up, the other man wore a solemn expression and nodded slowly as he took in Ben's words. “We all have decisions we wish we could take back, son,” Tavari said. “What matters is that you're making the right choice now.”
A moment passed where Tavari looked over his shoulder at something on the far side of the room, and then the man let out a sigh. “I'll let you prepare,” he said. “You're on in five minutes.”
Those five minutes were some of the most awkward that Ben had endured. Worse than his appearance in court, worse than the arrest that had exposed his misdeeds to all of his friends and Darrel as well. Here he was, thinking about committing treason, thinking about selling his services to the Antauran government, and then a man like Robel Tavari came along and reminded him that there was always a path to redemption.
What was wrong with him?
It was like he felt stained by his guilt over giving weapons to the Fringe Worlds, tainted in his very soul. And now that the damage was done, he felt the need to continue down that path. When you couldn't climb out of the hole, it was either stay put or dig deeper. He was the sort of man who dug.
On the stage, the woman in the brown skirt stood with her hands folded behind her back. “That was a wonderful talk by Elena Teeral,” she said, nodding to the crowd. “And now I would like you all to welcome a young man who is making new strides in the field of security! Mr. Tanaben Loranai!”
Applause echoed throughout the room.
Ben climbed the steps to the stage with a grunt, shaking his head in dismay. You'll be fine, he reminded himself for the last time. These people are enthused. They want to hear what you have to say.
The woman in brown wore a bright smile as she nodded to him and then stepped aside to let him approach the lectern. His stomach was tied up in knots. He had read once that most people feared public speaking more than they feared death. At least getting up on this stage wasn't going to kill him.
Once he was in position, Ben thought that he might want to revise that last thought. Twelve rows of seats with two aisles dividing them into three sections were filled with several hundred people who stared up at him, expecting something grand.
At the back of the room, doors that led out to the concourse were left open, and he could see windows that looked out on a gray afternoon. Ben had seen planets from space, but this was the first time he had ever felt small.
He took the disk that contained his multi-tool's processor from his gauntlet and set it on top of the lectern, pressing a button so that it would display a holographic readout of his notes. Now…He just had to open his mouth and talk.
Gripping the sides of the lectern, Ben leaned forward to squint at the crowd. “Good afternoon,” he said, nearly flinching at the sound of his own voice through the speakers. “I came here today to talk to you about information security. There's a lot that we can learn from people who have spent their lives finding ways to break-”
“Yes!” a voice called out, interrupting him. “Security.”
Ben felt his face grow warm, sweat beading on his forehead. Damn it, he really did not want to deal with a heckler. “Um…We can have questions after the talk,” he said. “For now, I'd ask you to-”
A man rose from his seat in the middle of the room, stepping into the narrow aisle and eliciting murmurs of confusion as he made his way toward the stage. Ben felt a lump of ice in his belly.
This rude man who felt comfortable interrupting the proceedings was tall and well-muscled with a striking face and a head of blonde hair so messy it rivaled Jack's. His soft, menacing laughter somehow overpowered the hushed voices of people who didn't know what was going on. Ben knew.
Companion help him, he knew.
Leo had come for him.
The murderer folded his arms and craned his neck to stare up at the stage, his eyes feral. “I have a problem,” he grated. “You see, I've been trying to get your little friends to take me seriously, and I just can't seem to make my point.”
Ben went pale, then shook his head so fast his temples throbbed. “No,” he croaked, backing away from the lectern. “No, you can't do this! Not here! Even you wouldn't be so insanely stupid!”
“You'd be surprised.”
People at the back of the room beg
an to leave their seats and run for the exits, some shouting in a panic. Pretty soon, everybody was on their feet and trying to file out of the room It was pandemonium.
Leo just stood in the aisle with a beatific smile on his face, his brown eyes full of cold fury. Everyone seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Even people who would have to run past him to get out instead decided to shuffle through the crowded rows to the next aisle over.
Ben reached for his pistol only to find nothing there. He thought of his multi-tool. Perhaps he could use a hypersonic pulse to incapacitate the other man or holography to confuse him…But this wasn't the multi-tool that the authorities had confiscated. This one had no special tricks, no gadgets.
It was just Ben and a madman with the powers of a Justice Keeper. He thought of Larani, of her stubborn refusal to return his old multi-tool. If she had listened, maybe Ben would have a chance of surviving this.
Leo jumped.
He flew through the air in a wide arc, landing on the edge of the stage with a peel of soft laughter. “It won't be so bad,” he said, closing in on Ben. “Don't struggle, and I'll promise to make it quick.”
“I'm not afraid of you,” Ben said. “We put you down once; we can do it again.”
Leo drew his belt knife, flipped it and caught the grip so casually you might have thought it an extension of his own hand. The man was a robot, programmed to kill, his blank stare lacking any emotion. “I like knives,” he said. “So much more personal than firearms, wouldn't you agree?”
“Shut up.”
“I like the feel of soft flesh as it gives way to steel, the rush of hot blood and the look in a man's eyes when he knows he's about to die.”
Ben rushed him.
The other man seemed to slide out of his path, flowing around him with serpentine grace. Something grabbed the back of his collar, and then there was a knife blade pressed to Ben's throat. “Ah, ah, ah,” Leo cooed in his ear. “Not so hasty now, my friend. I want to savour this moment.”
Panic was like a spear in Ben's gut, but he managed to keep his breathing steady. “Do it,” he goaded the other man. “Come on!”