by S. E. Smith
“I did my time, was caught in a few battles and actions. I earned my retirement,” he said. “But I’m not Special Forces, never served at the tip of the spear, like Jake, or dealing with the horrors, like Emily. I pretty much did what I do here—logistics, cargo, shipping—making sure everyone has what they need when they need it. Front lines but not in battle usually.”
“I think you underestimate what you did and the price you paid,” she said, placing one hand over his heart.
He captured her fingers and brushed a kiss on her palm, surprised at his own daring. “Sure I have an occasional nightmare, who doesn’t? My depot got overrun by the Chimmer once and – well, we’re not here to talk about my experiences. But I don’t have flashbacks nearly as bad as a lot of people. I have ways to cope.” He could lose himself for hours in model building, not thinking about anything but getting the tiny details just so. “This garden is only for people who really need it. No one else on board knows it exists. Even Maeve, the ship’s AI, doesn’t have ganglions in here. I’m aware of the garden because as the Cargo Master, I keep tabs on all items, large or small, brought on board through my holds. Dirt, trees, koi – the deliveries caught my attention, and I asked enough questions to be in the know.”
“How did you get permission for us to come today?”
“I had a long talk with Chief Engineer Takkei. An extended chat.” He’d also promised the Chief one of his custom-made models, with Takkei to select his choice of monument or ship later, but Tyrelle didn’t need to know the negotiation details. “After then I persuaded Captain Fleming to okay it. He wasn’t too happy, frankly. This is a very special part of the ship, and you’ve only been with us a few days. Trust comes hard to him.”
Yeah, the captain had been extremely reluctant. If Tyrelle did anything to harm the garden or the ship, then Owen would be cashiered at the next port, but he was willing to take the risk. He couldn’t explain his feelings articulately, but he knew to the bottom of his heart she’d be a safe guest to the garden. “I got Jake to escort us, let us use his access code and wait outside. I thought you needed exposure to nature, or as much as I could provide on a starship.”
“I’ve craved it since I was taken from my home. So many people on this ship have been kind to me,” she said. “I’m encouraged to know there’s kindness to balance the evil among your worlds.”
“I’m sorrier than I can say that you’ve suffered so much.”
She rested her palm on his cheek for a moment as if offering comfort. “It’s not your fault. The blame must rest with those who kidnapped me and my people from our own world. And then further blame must descend on those who bought us, held us as slaves and used our skills for evil.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Sighing, she curled closer to him, as if chilled, even though the temperature on this deck was maintained at a comfortable level. “We didn’t even know we lived on a planet in the middle of the stars until the day the giant ships descended through our sky. My people are few in number to begin with, and we’re spread out across the land, but the enemy came on a festival day. Quite a few escaped nonetheless, for which I’ve been grateful to Thuun many times over.”
“Was it humans who attacked?”
“No, giant clawed aliens, taller than you. Fast-moving, able to find us even when we hid in the caves. Once on their ship, we were stripped, scanned and separated, the priests and priestesses held to the side while the others were led away. After a long time and many deaths, we were sold in a marketplace to humans who knew we had abilities.”
“The Shemdylann probably detected your psychic abilities during their initial examination. The pirates may have even studied your world for a while before making the raid. They’re highly sophisticated slavers. Unfortunately. ”
“Our new owners are the ones who fastened the explosive collars on our necks and demonstrated how they worked.” She closed her eyes, tears leaking out from under her eyelashes. “I lost one dear to me that day. The woman in charge – the ring master, she calls herself - picked him at random as an example to the rest of us and told us his fate would be ours if we disobeyed any order or tried to escape.”
Heart aching for her, he said, “You don’t have to tell me any more unless you want to. I didn’t bring you here to get you to talk – I only hoped to bring you comfort.”
“And you have.” She wiped away the tears and gave him a small smile. “It’s a relief to be able to speak of these things. My – my owners have used me in many places, to influence or kill others. Each time I do, my own soul blackens.”
He took her by the shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze. “You were kidnapped, coerced, you didn’t do any of it by your own choice. Surely your god realizes—”
“I want to kill them,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “But the Combine made it so clear to me if I try to use my powers on the masters, they’ll kill my people in revenge, and force me to watch my few remaining friends die.”
“But your power is good, brings life to growing things. I don’t understand.”
“My ability, like any gift from the gods, has two sides. I encourage the plants, the animals and people who are in need, but I can also reach inside, find their vulnerability and play upon it, enhance it, bring down a storm of the dark, and in the end, the plant – or person— kills themselves.” She reached out and drew a single stem of cherry-red flowers closer, bending the branch. Making a sign in the air above the tendrils, she hummed a discordant tune.
Terror clawed at his nerves, making him want to get up and run. Clenching his fists, ignoring his pounding heart and surging adrenaline, he kept his gaze on her. The garden darkened, which was impossible. As he watched, the flowers shriveled, blackened and fell from the stem, which also began to dry out, cracking as it grew brittle.
Midorri ran to Tyrelle’s side, whining, long green tongue licking her arm.
Owen gave her a gentle shake. “Hey, enough demonstration. I get it.”
Blinking, she swallowed hard and rubbed her throat. “Let me restore that which I have ruined, for I can undo the damage with a plant. People are broken forever.”
A moment later the branch glowed green, supple like a new shoot, with fresh flowers breaking out of their buds.
“Seven hells, lady, you’re powerful,” he said, staring at the branch in awe. It’s a good thing no one else was here to see the scary demonstration or she’d be in lockdown till the SCIA took her. “Are you okay?”
“You aren’t scared of me?” Her voice was a whisper.
“You don’t intend me any harm.”
She nodded. “Truly you’re a warrior. The first few times the ring master sent me out with my handler, my job was to influence a person to agree to certain actions the masters wanted without being aware of my effect on their will. They beat and starved me until I gave in. I sat in a room next to the one where the meeting was occurring, working my influence, and brought my owners the victory they sought. Such actions were only the beginning once they figured out I could kill. I prayed many times for Thuun to let me die, rather than continue to be used, but my prayers remained unanswered until the day I opened my eyes and beheld you.” She glanced away for a moment. “At first in my confusion, I thought Thuun had sent me a legendary warrior.”
He gathered her close, hugging her as if he’d never let her go. “I’m just an ordinary guy, but I’ll do my best to protect you, I swear. I’m not sure what I can do against the SCIA.”
She patted his hand, as if to comfort him. “We won’t speak of these matters any more today. We should enjoy the gift you intended to give me, of the garden’s peace.”
Six
“SCIA has boarded the ship,” Maeve said on the senior officer link. “On their way to the wardroom.”
The special agent in charge wasn‘t the stern bureaucrat with a badge and a blaster Owen had expected, but a drop-dead gorgeous woman in a well-fitted suit, with a mane of curling red hair and a sultry deep vo
ice. She threw him off for a moment, which he realized was probably one of her most effective tactics.
“I’m Special Agent Anjali Paterson, these are my associates Ben Fredricks, Al Vorson and Emund Osto.” Having introduced herself and her team, Anjali honed in on Tyrelle, sitting between Owen and Jake. “You must be the stowaway?”
“I’m Captain Fleming, and Miss Tyrelle is an inadvertent passenger,” Fleming said, his voice firm. “The CLC Line has no complaint against her.”
“Should she have a lawyer present?” Owen asked.
“And you are?” Anjali’s voice was cold as she eyed him.
“Cargo Master Owen Embersson, Miss Tyrelle’s advocate on this ship under ICC regulations.” He made his voice just as icy. She didn’t scare him, except of course when the issue was her authority over Tyrelle.
The agent closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed her forehead. “I sense we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. Miss Tyrelle isn’t being charged with anything. She’s not under arrest, and she doesn’t even have to talk to me…although, of course, I hope she will. She’s free to go if you choose to shuttle her to the surface, Captain.”
Tyrelle clutched Owen’s arm. “Where would I go? What would I do? I have no credits, no papers. They – they’d find me again—”
He was given no chance to reassure her.
“Exactly. And none of us want such an outcome, do we?” A pleased, almost secretive expression on her expertly made-up face, Anjali seated herself in the central chair across the table from Captain Fleming. “Let’s start over again. Can you please introduce yourselves?”
The group went around the table, providing names and ranks, with Maeve chiming in at the end.
“All right, I can understand the Ship’s Security Officer being involved, and I’m willing to accept the advocate’s presence, rather than waste time arguing. Let me tell you what I’m here for.” She took charge of the meeting smoothly. “For a long time the SCIA has been trying to penetrate the Amarotu Combine operations in this arm of the Sectors. Finding this stowaway represents our first major break in the case. I’m prepared to offer Miss Tyrelle a deal, a substantial deal, in return for her assistance.” Speaking directly to her, Anjali said, “We’d give you a new identity, more than enough credits to begin a new life and relocation to a frontier Sector world far from here where your nonTerrestial origins would draw less attention. I can offer you several choices of new home.”
“After I help you.”
“Well, yes. First I want to hear your story.” Anjali held up one elegant, well-manicured hand. “After which I’ll tell you what we know and what we want.”
Tyrelle told her story much as she’d recited it to Owen in the secret garden a few days prior.
Owen was glad she’d been through it once with him already, because she sounded calmer and more controlled today.
Tapping her fingers on the Zulairian mahogany conference table, Anjali nodded. “Yes, we’ve known for some time now the Combine has a standing order with the Shemdylann for slaves with psychic powers or any other unusual attributes. They pay an extra bounty for such sentients. Your world, your people and abilities are previously unknown to us, Miss Tyrelle, so your home solar system is probably deep in enemy Mawreg territory.”
“Mawreg?” Eyebrows raised, she sought enlightenment from Owen.
“I’ll tell you later,” he said, remembering she didn’t even know about the Shemdylann pirates who’d originally captured her.
“The Sectors government is concerned about the increasing link between the pirates and the Combine,” Anjali explained. “We’re not sure if the connection represents a new strategy for creating chaos in the Sectors on the part of the Mawreg overlords, or if the Shemdylann are becoming more independent. Those are among the facts we’re hoping to glean during this investigation. We also have a Mellurean Mind attached to this task force as a consultant, at their request, due to the Combine’s concentration on sentients with special abilities.”
Owen liked the sound of the Mellurean involvement, which might benefit Tyrelle, if the all-powerful ancient race took an interest. The aliens kept themselves apart but anytime Sectors Command could persuade them to assist was counted as a victory. The Mellureans had unparalleled mental powers so might be extra sympathetic to a woman with similar abilities.
“Our understanding is the Combine has several teams of exotics working as assassins, influencers, what have you under the control of what they not-so-humorously call ring masters,” Anjali said, waving one hand in a circle. “Like old-fashioned circuses?”
“Tyrelle is a person, not an ‘exotic’.” Owen didn’t let the term pass. Anything making her appear less than equal was a danger. “The term is insulting, suitable for a zoo animal.”
“Apologies.” Anjali nodded to acknowledge the point. “Sometimes we agents get too used to our own shorthand. At any rate, the ringmasters send out their captives under the close eye of a subordinate handler, who usually travels on the same ship with the assassin concealed in an illicit cryo sleep container such as the one you found. The handler has the tech to activate the explosive collar if needed.”
“Yes.” Tyrelle nodded, agreeing with the agent’s assessment. “You understand the system well.”
“Thank you for the confirmation. The Combine provides services on a contract basis to others and also uses these unfortunate prisoners for executions and coercive actions serving the Combine’s purposes. We believe Miss Tyrelle was separated from her handler due to the freight forwarding situation you encountered two stops ago. He or she—”
Tyrelle shivered in her chair. “He. Cosimil.”
Owen could feel her fear, and he took a deep breath to subdue his anger. He had to concentrate on the agent’s discussion.
“He’ll try to reacquire her when you arrive at Devir Six in a few days. Since you kept the incident so quiet, for which I congratulate and thank you, Captain Fleming, we believe the Combine has no idea she’s been exposed. We want to preserve our advantage.” Focusing directly on Tyrelle, she said, “We want you to go undercover as our operative.”
Since the meeting began, Tyrelle had been expecting and dreading the woman’s offer. She’d caught anticipation mixed with supreme confidence as soon as Agent Paterson entered the chamber. The Agent’s threat to have Captain Fleming send her alone and unprotected to the planet below had been terrifying, meant to soften her up for the ultimate negotiation, and Tyrelle had to admit it worked. She might have lived in the Sectors for four years but only as a closely held prisoner. She’d have no idea how to function in a busy portside city with no credits and no papers—easy prey for others as bad as the Combine or worse.
Beside her, Owen shoved his chair back with a curse. “You want her to give herself up to those bastards? To become their slave again?”
“To become our deep cover informant.” His outburst left Anjali unshaken. “We’d equip her with certain mental implants for collecting data to be used as evidence, undetectable to Combine scanners—”
“You hope.” Owen sank into his chair.
Tyrelle could read his disappointment that she hadn’t shown more of a reaction to the outrageous idea. But this could be my way to make amends for my deeds, as well as to rescue the others. Thuun doesn’t always grant prayers the way we hope. Maybe this precious time on the Zephyr—among those she felt were at least friendly, and with Owen who could be so much more to her—had merely been a respite, a chance to gather strength for the task now at hand.
“She’d be as safe as we could make her. We’d implant a tracker and, at the first sign of danger, we’d pull her out.”
“The first sign could be the last sign,” Jake said.
Warmed by his statement, Tyrelle believed he too found the plan objectionable.
Jake had more to say. “She’s hardly a trained agent. Your people couldn’t get too close or risk tipping the Combine off. Do you expect her to continue doing wet work on their behalf while you colle
ct your evidence?”
“If necessary, yes. We’d try to step in and avert civilian casualties if possible. No criminal charges would be involved for her.”
“How long?” She broke into the debate, using her trained voice to cut through the babble. The Zephyr crew meant well and she appreciated their concern for her, but this was her challenge, not theirs. Everything about this proposal terrified her, but Thuun wouldn’t ask her to take on work she couldn’t accomplish. Balancing the scales of her misdeeds would require something of this awful magnitude. She understood.
Anjali shrugged. “Hard to say. Until we had enough evidence to convict, or links to enough other Combine operations. Certainly not more than a standard year.”
Slamming his hand on the table, Owen objected immediately. “You seriously expect Tyrelle to go through another year of hell to earn her freedom?”
Before the Agent could answer him, Tyrelle verified the item that meant the most to her, above all else, much as she wanted the ring master, the controller and everyone in the Combine to suffer. “You’ll free the other captives like me? Give them the same deal you’ve offered me?”
“Basically, yes. I can’t be as generous – the others won’t have been working for me. But I can authorize new identities and relocation.” Anjali leaned back in her chair. “You could all be placed in one locale if you wish, although I wouldn’t advise it.” She shrugged, plainly not worried about the fate of those who were pawns in this situation, but willing to make a concession.
Tyrelle laid her hand on Owen’s arm. “Don’t be angry with me. I understand the dangers, but I must try to save my people.”
He covered her hand with his own but glared at the agent across the table. “Why can’t you assemble a big enough task force, go in and rescue the captives yourself? Now? Surely the raid would give you enough evidence.”