Angle of Truth

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Angle of Truth Page 10

by Lindsay Buroker


  Yes, I know. Jelena forced aside her thoughts of despair. He was right. She wouldn’t have known how to break intellicuffs, but it shouldn’t surprise her that Erick could.

  As soon as Masika wakes up, we can try. She must have been closest when that grenade went off. She’s still out like a rock.

  While we’re waiting, maybe we should poke into our captors’ thoughts and get a feel for where they’re taking us, Jelena told him, reminding herself that they were on a mission here. A little setback didn’t change anything.

  By ‘we,’ you mean me, right?

  You’re better at snooping in strangers’ minds than I am.

  Just because you don’t like doing it.

  I prefer the minds of alien dolphins to those of people.

  I’m not going to tell you how extremely odd you are.

  Thanks so much for keeping that to yourself.

  Do we actually care where these people are taking us if we’re breaking out soon? Erick asked.

  If they’re taking us to the same place as their prisoners of war are being kept, it might behoove us not to escape right now.

  Ah, right. It would be convenient if we got thrown into the cell next door to the people we’re here to rescue. Then we can all escape together.

  At which point, we can thank these people for knocking us out and capturing us.

  I’ll let you handle that. Give me a minute.

  While Erick poked through minds, Jelena opened her eyes slightly and tried to look around without lifting her head or giving away that she was conscious. She couldn’t make out much with her head down, just the knees of three soldiers sitting opposite them and the butts of their rifles resting on the floor of the truck between their legs. They looked to be cartridge weapons, as the Opuntians had possessed. So this was another continent not subscribed to a monthly delivery from Hot New Tools and Technology Limited.

  It was brighter in the back of the truck than Jelena expected, with early morning sunlight slanting through a large window in the back door. She glimpsed some of the surrounding terrain through it, seeing more with her eyes than she had with her senses. The red stone buildings rising on either side of the street, the ones that hadn’t been destroyed by bombs, were surprisingly elegant and represented an interesting blend of architectural styles. Some stretched upward, spires reaching for the sky, while others had blockier forms with huge stained-glass windows. Some lay behind walls with very different types of towers rising from within. In one spot, a grassy park spread for a block, framed by lush green trees that seemed far more appropriate for a wet climate on Old Earth than the brown deserts here.

  “Our Holy Square with churches and temples from most of the religions,” one of the men across from her said.

  Jelena did her best not to twitch or give away her surprise at being addressed. She hadn’t been doing as good a job of feigning unconsciousness as she’d thought.

  “In case they didn’t tell you, this is Dry Wash, our capital and one of the few cities where people continue to live above ground. It’s also the only one where people from all the religions live together. Originally, our ancestors spread out across the continent and formed private enclaves where they could follow the old ways without interference, but early on, some came to the capital, preferring the call of a real city with access to space and the rest of the system.” His voice turned dry. “That was before the space base was bombed and our handful of space-worthy ships were destroyed.”

  Jelena looked up so she could meet the speaker’s eyes. There was little point in pretending she was unconscious now. She expected someone older and higher ranking—some leader who spoke on behalf of his people, or at least the soldiers in the truck—but the young, dark-skinned man with his head shaved under his military cap didn’t appear much older than she. The tab on his collar displayed a single black dot, denoting rank, she assumed. An older soldier closer to the door had three dots, the most of anyone in the truck. He was looking toward them sternly, but he didn’t stop his man from talking.

  “What religion are you?” Jelena asked, not that she knew anything about the old ways. But since he was offering information, she might as well take it. Maybe she could work the conversation around to the POWs and get him thinking about their location.

  “Christian,” he said, looking amused, as if it should have been obvious. He pulled a chain with a cross on it out from under his shirt, holding it up briefly, before tucking it away again. “Do you follow the Divine Suns Trinity? Some of the stories say the Starseers have their own religion. But not one from Earth, I think, right?”

  Surprised that he’d identified her, Jelena almost protested, but then, she remembered she was wearing her robe. Her very soggy robe. And they would have seen Erick’s staff when they locked it away. Not everybody would have figured out what they were, even with those clues, but they were huge clues for anyone with knowledge of Starseers.

  “The Kirians, our ancestors, developed their own language and religion during the Isolation Era, and some Starseers follow it, yes, but most of us…” Jelena hesitated, not sure if she should speak for all Starseers when she knew so few of them. That old wistfulness returned for a moment, the sadness that she’d never been invited to be a part of the community as a whole. “I grew up with the Trinity and getting presents on Stars Day.”

  “Presents are important to consider when choosing a religion.” The soldier’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “One of my squad mates follows three religions. He says it’s because they all have tenets that he holds dear. I believe it’s because he gets to celebrate three times as many holidays. Lots of feasts, days off work, and presents.” He smiled affably at her.

  A couple of the other soldiers snorted, but nobody disagreed.

  Jelena found the conversation surreal. Were captors and prisoners supposed to chat about presents?

  You know he’s flirting with you, right? Erick asked.

  Because of how sexy I am in my neck-to-ankle, soggy black robe?

  Maybe he saw your underwear when he was hoisting you into the truck and locking you up. Are you trying to get any useful information from him? I haven’t been able to ascertain if we’re going to the same place the POWs were taken, just that we’re going to some headquarters on a hill overlooking town.

  I’ll try to get something from him.

  Preferably something more useful than his hobbies and his comm console number.

  Ha ha. Is Masika awake yet? Jelena let her senses trickle in that direction and found that she was indeed awake.

  Yes. She’s doing a better job of feigning unconsciousness than you are.

  Glad to know we can add another skill to her résumé.

  The truck lurched, one wheel slipping into a pothole the size of a moon crater. Jelena would have been tossed into her new acquaintance’s lap if not for the hook. He gazed out the back window, his smile fading.

  “When I was a boy, the capital was real pretty,” he said. “It’s sad that so many of our buildings have been destroyed.” He frowned at her, though she didn’t get the sense that he blamed her.

  She hoped not. Just because she’d agreed to rescue some people didn’t mean she had anything to do with their war or the state of their cities.

  A few of the other soldiers looked sadly toward the window too. The three-tab man’s eyes narrowed, and he watched Jelena, Erick, and Masika with his hand on his rifle. What Starseer stories had he heard? Did he know about the mind manipulation abilities?

  The truck lurched again, and Jelena fell against Erick as it tilted for a climb up a steep hill.

  We’re almost to our destination, Erick informed her. It may be easier to do our escape attempt while in transit rather than from a cell later.

  You think so? They’re watching us now. Whereas I imagine you could easily thwart the lock on a cell door or any other security measures they put in our path.

  They could also take us out of the truck to shoot us in the driveway.

  In that ca
se, the thwarting would have to be expedited.

  “What’s to be done with us?” Jelena asked, looking both at the man who’d been speaking and at the leader. “Are all visitors to your fine city knocked out and arrested?”

  “Visitors,” the leader snorted under his breath.

  Jelena was more and more convinced the war minister had a leak in his office.

  “Those claiming to be visitors haven’t treated us well of late,” the garrulous soldier said. The garrulous private, Jelena decided to think of him, since she didn’t know the ranks in their army. “We had a freighter come by a few weeks ago, claiming they were on a humanitarian mission and had brought emergency supplies for our people.”

  Jelena almost choked on the statement since it was so close to the story she had been thinking about telling.

  “They did bring some first-aid kits and some cheap ration bars, but in the middle of the night, they sneaked into the warehouse behind the fish market and stole all the freshly harvested arigato cactus.”

  Erick lifted his head. “Someone came all the way to your planet to steal cactus?”

  I thought you were feigning unconsciousness, Jelena told him silently.

  They didn’t seem to be that fooled by my feigning.

  I guess it’s only Masika who gets an update to her résumé.

  The private shrugged. “The arigato—or thank-you cactus—is the tastiest one we’ve got. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ve heard it’s considered a delicacy in some parts of the system. It doesn’t grow real well without the heavy mineral content of our soil here on Cholla.”

  “A cactus delicacy?” Erick wrinkled his nose.

  You were shoveling that stuff the war minister served up into your mouth pretty eagerly.

  Because I liked the sauce. The cactus itself was bland.

  “That’s just a story,” one of the other soldiers said, flicking a dismissive hand. “I’m sure they came thinking we have piles of ahridium lying around that they could steal, and that taking our cactus was a Plan B. The point is that strangers haven’t been treating us well these days.”

  Maybe that explained why the Chollans had fired at the Snapper without warning.

  “Enough talking,” the leader said. “It’s not our job to give out information to enemies. Even pretty ones.” He skewered his private with a meaningful look, causing the man’s dark cheeks to flush impressively.

  He definitely saw your underwear.

  That’s not the information you’re supposed to be gathering from their minds.

  “I thought we were going to try to win them over to our side, Sarge,” the private said. Huh, maybe they had typical Alliance army ranks, after all.

  “Let the war leader decide how that’s going to go.”

  Win us over? Jelena raised her eyebrows at Erick. That sounds more promising than being shot.

  Except for the fact that we don’t want to be won over by the losing side in a war, especially when we’ve already agreed to work for the other side. I’m not an expert, but I think mercenaries that switch sides three days into the mission have trouble getting jobs in the future. If they’re not shot outright.

  You’re determined that someone’s going to shoot us, aren’t you?

  If we don’t escape and slip away into the city soon, yes.

  “Are we being taken to where the Opuntian prisoners were taken?” Jelena asked, since Erick hadn’t discovered that information through less blunt ways.

  The private opened his mouth, but the sergeant frowned at him, and he shut it without answering.

  Got it, Erick said silently. From the sergeant. He thought of the place. It’s not a prison, and it’s not where we’re going. It looks like a water desalination plant. Odd choice, but he was along when they were delivered, and it seems it’s a place the city is worried the Opuntians will target soon if they can get Dry Wash’s forcefield down. Their war leader figures the Opuntians will hesitate to bomb the plant if their own people are being held there.

  I don’t suppose it’s anywhere close to where we are?

  Just a hunch, but I’m guessing a water desalination plant would be located by the water.

  Are you being sarcastic with me?

  Me? Never.

  Damn, we might have been within a mile or two when we were in the harbor. If Jelena had known earlier, she could have had the dolphins drop them off at the front door. She barely muffled a groan.

  The truck went over a final bump and came to a stop. Jelena looked out the window, but all she could see was the sky. Using her senses, she could tell that they’d climbed to the top of a hill overlooking the rest of the city and the ocean beyond. A single stone building stood atop the hill, surrounded by pavement, along with a perimeter fence the truck had driven through. A soldier outside closed the gate with a clang. Jelena hoped she hadn’t missed her little team’s best opportunity for escape.

  More troops coming out to escort us. Erick’s frown seemed concerned. And someone else. Someone in a robe.

  A robe? There wouldn’t be other Starseers living here, would there?

  She imagined coming face to face with someone as powerful as Thor, someone who could nullify her and Erick’s talents.

  For that matter, what if Thor himself had been following the trucks with notions of grand rescues on his mind? Back on Arkadius, he’d killed dozens of guards and another Starseer because he’d been angry Jelena had been hurt. What might he do to get her out of prison? That was where she assumed she and Erick and Masika would end up if they couldn’t escape and if they didn’t allow themselves to be won over.

  No, they could still escape. What were a gate and a fence to two Starseers and Masika?

  Jelena lifted her chin as the soldiers in the truck stood, their weapons in their hands, their eyes alert and wary. When one of the men leaned over Masika’s shoulder to unclasp her from the hook behind her, Masika met Jelena’s eyes. Her shoulders were tense, and she appeared ready to spring, even with cuffs around her wrists. She seemed to be asking if it was time to try to escape.

  Jelena hesitated. Now? No, it would be easier to run from the ground once outside the truck. And they should see what exactly they faced first. Another Starseer would force them to come up with a more sophisticated plan than simply throwing up their barriers and running.

  Soon, Jelena whispered into Masika’s mind.

  Masika scowled.

  The private unhooked Jelena’s belt. He paused to touch her arm and nod solemnly. “Good luck.”

  Jelena couldn’t tell if he thought she’d need it or not.

  Chapter 9

  Two-dozen soldiers waited outside when Jelena climbed down after Erick and Masika. That was in addition to the troops that had been riding in the vehicle with them—and in the one behind them. They all held rifles, and they watched their guests carefully. They also watched each other carefully. As if making sure none of their comrades were being manipulated in some way.

  Get the feeling they weren’t surprised when we turned up? Erick asked silently.

  Maybe.

  Jelena looked for the person he’d mentioned, someone in a robe. She didn’t have to look far. The soldiers parted, and a bronze-skinned woman wearing sandals, with a saffron inner robe and a long-sleeved, brown outer robe walked forward. Jelena knew right away that those weren’t Starseer robes, but bloodstains on the yellow one and a dark bag in her hand made Jelena put a moratorium on her relief. The bag appeared to be made from something like snake or alligator skin, but the size and shape reminded her of the medical kits doctors carried. Why would someone be sending a doctor to talk to them?

  “Do you want us to hold them, ma’am?” the sergeant from the truck asked, addressing the woman with the bag.

  Blue-tinted sunglasses protected her eyes and made them hard to read. A long black ponytail hung over one shoulder of her robe. Her face, with pronounced cheekbones and a sharp nose, had an elegance to it, as if she were some aristocrat of old. Her age was hard to gu
ess—she might have been twenty or forty. Though it didn’t show on her face, Jelena sensed a weariness in her. That of someone with a lot of responsibility who had been working many long hours.

  Not a Starseer, Erick said silently.

  You can’t judge someone just by her clothing. Jelena remembered the Vogel brother, the co-founder of the Stellacor corporation. She never would have guessed him to have Starseer talents.

  True. And I am having a hard time reading her thoughts. All I get is this image of a pool of water in a forest.

  “That’s probably wise,” the woman said, her voice mellifluous.

  Two soldiers hopped out of the cab of the truck, carrying the locker that held Erick’s staff and Masika’s blazer. Another one brought their packs out and dropped them on the ground.

  “Let’s do them one at a time,” the woman said, lifting her bag. “Push up their sleeves.”

  Er?

  Masika’s eyes widened, and she sought Jelena’s gaze again, this time with more urgency. Jelena felt a surge of that urgency herself, especially when the doctor opened her kit and pulled out an injector. She wanted to drug them? That was their idea of how to win over Starseers? She remembered a story about how her grandfather had been a prisoner on an Alliance warship for weeks once, how they’d kept him in a drugged stupor to ensure he couldn’t use his powers.

  A faint roar came from the sky overhead, and most of the soldiers looked up. Several black airplanes flew over the city, high above.

  “They’re attacking us during the day now?” the private asked.

  “Getting cheeky.”

  “They won’t bomb Dry Wash while we’re holding their people right?”

  Jelena’s first thought was that “their people” referred to her little team, but she realized he must mean the POWs. She hoped the war minister wouldn’t order bombings while her team was here, either.

  “The forcefield was just reinforced,” a white-haired soldier who was probably an officer said. “We’ll be fine. Our missiles will get them before they can break it down. Doctor? I’d feel more comfortable picnicking in front of headquarters here if we were sure our guests couldn’t hurt us.”

 

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