Serafino’s rogue abilities were probably one of the reasons—now that she thought about it—why he was so damned lucky over the years, always one step ahead of the competition or the law. Or the card dealer.
“I think that’s probably correct.”
“You think—?” Sass asked as a thump-thump-thud behind told her Tank had finished his cream and jumped down from the counter with his usual lack of grace.
“We weren’t that far into an explanation when his physical body had a seizure. There’s an implant in his brain, courtesy of PsyServ. It doesn’t show up on any of my med-scans—that’s how treacherous it is. I had to use resonance imagery to find out what little I know.”
“But how could he meet you in this Novalis place if he has this implant?”
A sigh of frustration blew through Eden’s lips. “He seems to be able to override it for short periods of time.”
“It could be a behavioral implant. They’ve been used with homicidal psychotics.”
“That was outlawed over sixty-five years ago. I checked my medical journals.”
“Lubashit.” Sass held Eden’s gaze with her own for a moment, then looked away. “There were cons on Lethant with them. You know what I went through there.”
“Ten months of hell,” Eden said quietly.
Hell it was—a desolate, lawless wasteland populated by what the legal system adjudicated to be human filth. Even now, years later, it wasn’t easy to talk about.
“Were they recent implants?” Eden asked, bringing Sass’s thoughts back to the present.
Sass smiled thinly. “If you consider seven years ago recent, yes. They have a med facility on Lethant.”
“I don’t suppose they’d risk doing them on Varlow,” Eden mused.
“Right next door to HQ? The public outcry would topple the government faster than a fleet of Triad hunterships. Oops, sorry. I forgot; we’re one of them now. But where were we?” she asked, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. Talking about Lethant invariably gave her a headache.
Something soft and warm brushed against her pants leg. She reached down and ruffled Tank’s furry ears, her headache receding. “Oh, yes. Serafino. Are we sure we’re not dealing with some serious psychosis here? I take it you want to remove the implant.”
“I think if I don’t, it’ll kill him.”
“Are you sure if we do, he won’t kill us?” Sass challenged.
“At this point, relatively sure.”
“Kel-Paten’s not going to like ‘relatively,’” Sass said as Tank butted his head against her shin.
“Kel-Paten…Sass, I need a favor.” Eden leaned over the table toward her. “I don’t want the admiral brought in yet.”
Someone else wanted a favor. Fat paws poked her thigh. “I understand your concern, but he despises Serafino pretty thoroughly already,” she said, drawing the pudgy fidget up into her lap. “I don’t see how telling him Serafino’s a telepath will add to that.”
“It’s not just Serafino,” Eden answered quietly. “I’m a telepath too.”
This time Sass’s mouth gaped all the way open. “How?” she finally managed. Granted, TelTal—the U-Cee’s Telepathic Talent Regulatory Agency—wasn’t as overzealous as the Triad’s PsyServ. But they still routinely scanned the populace, starting in grade school, for the slightest twinge of telepathic ability.
If there were rogue telepaths—and there were always rumors—it was because they grew up on desolate rim worlds and were never exposed to formal schooling. Or regular medical exams.
Sass knew what that was like. But Eden didn’t. “You’re from Glitterkiln, not the Far Reaches. Do you mean TelTal never scanned you?”
“Same as my classmates, yes,” Eden said. “But I was recognized as an empath when I was still small. Whatever they sensed from me they probably just chalked up to empathic talents.
“Plus, I don’t really remember experiencing what Serafino calls Novalis until I was in my teens. The telepaths I heard about developed their talents much younger, around four or five.”
“But when you went for your Fleet physical, didn’t they scan you again?” Sass asked as Tank, after much insistent kneading, finally curled into a ball and sought sleep.
“Yes. But it appears my telepathy is touch-induced. That might be something they couldn’t detect as easily.”
“But you’re sure?”
Eden nodded slowly. “Gods help me, yes I am. Though obviously not well trained, or I wouldn’t be running into the problems I have now.”
“With Serafino.”
“I’m hoping I can contact him again. I’m hoping he may have the answer to the implant.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Keep Kel-Paten out of sick bay as much as possible, for one,” Eden replied.
“That means you won’t be seeing much of me. Where I go, he goes these days. What else?”
Eden took a deep breath. “As you said, Kel-Paten may be the Triad’s most loyal officer, but he has no great love for PsyServ. I have reason to believe he has an extensive personal library on PsyServ. I need access to it.”
“You think it might hold the answer to Serafino’s implant?”
“Maybe not Serafino’s specifically, but at least its medical pedigree.”
Sass pursed her lips and regarded her friend carefully. Her fingers absently stroked the fidget’s soft fur. “You’re asking me to break into the admiral’s secure locked datafiles. Files that are probably loaded with every defensive hacker trap he could create with his megamillion-credit mind. Files that probably have more security devices, hidden alarms, and fail-safe programs than anything else in civilized space, PsyServ’s own databanks included.”
“Yes.”
“Files that are located in his quarters, which are again no doubt the most secure location on this ship—hell, probably in this Fleet.”
“Yes.”
Sass shrugged. “Piece o’ cake. Anything else?”
“If you get caught we’ll both be court-martialed, you know that.”
“No,” Sass replied. “We won’t be court-martialed. If I get caught, I go down alone.”
Eden shot her a look that clearly stated she disagreed. “It’s not an issue,” Eden said, “because you won’t get caught, right?”
At the optimistic pronouncement, Sass grinned broadly.
“And number two, if you are, I bet you Kel-Paten won’t tell a soul.”
Sass burst out laughing, eliciting a murrupf of annoyance from Tank. “Lubashit! He’d be so righteously pissed that my biggest problem would be talking him out of jettisoning me into McClellan’s Void just so I could be formally court-martialed.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Eden countered with a grin.
“You’re right. I am. Ol’ Rules and Regulations Kel-Paten would definitely opt for a court-martial. If for no other reasons than to prove to us U-Cees how far superior the Triad military justice system is to our own.”
EDEN FYNN’S QUARTERS
Eden trudged a little less wearily back to her quarters. Sass—Tasha—would find the answers. She had faith in her friend’s unorthodox talents and knew that when Tasha put her mind to something, that something inevitably cooperated.
But Kel-Paten—now, there was a puzzle. Focused on Serafino, she didn’t have time to chase down any gossip concerning recent emo-program changes to the biocybe admiral. Still, her gut—and her empathic talents—suggested that the first thing that would come to Kel-Paten’s mind upon finding Tasha in his quarters would have nothing to do with the mythical void. Whether by accident or design, he had a measurable, almost palpable emotional response to Tasha’s presence. Almost…romantic?
Not a court-martial but a formal courting? Or perhaps not so formal if he found Tasha in his quarters. Maybe…
No, No, Bad CMO! she chided herself. Her tired mind was producing silly speculations. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and told the computer to wake her at 1330 hours. Th
at would give her about six hours. And with Serafino sedated, she felt safe that she wouldn’t be meeting up with him in Novalis.
They both needed a good night’s sleep—even if it wasn’t technically night.
The last thing Eden remembered was Reilly snuggling against her arm, purring loudly. Then Jace was rising from the stone bench, hand outstretched to greet her.
“I hoped you’d be here.” He took her hand in his as they sat down. “I thought I might have scared you away.” He smiled, but it was a smile touched with a nervous tension.
“You shouldn’t be here. I don’t know if I can pull you back from another seizure.”
“I overstayed my limit last time, I’m sorry. But—”
“Your limit?” Then he did have a way of temporarily bypassing the implant.
He nodded. “Twelve minutes and fifteen seconds is the max at the moment. I try to keep an internal clock running, but it got away from me last time. It’s just been so long.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I have so much to tell you. I don’t know if there’s time.”
A feeling of deep loneliness emanated from him, as well as a sadness over the injuries—and loss of life—his crew had experienced battling the vortex.
“You haven’t been in touch with another telepath in quite some time.” It wasn’t a guess. She was primarily an empath.
“Not since Bianca and Jorden.”
“Bianca?” she questioned, and immediately an image flashed into her mind: a woman, dark-haired and beautiful. She recognized the azure-blue eyes. They were like Jace’s. She felt the bond of strong affection he had for his older sister and her young son. And she also realized how much more could be transmitted telepathically than through words.
And then she felt Jace’s fear and his anger and knew that the implant had something to do with Bianca.
“It was a trade,” he said out loud. “PsyServ made it clear. My life, or my talents, for hers and Jorden’s. He’s a lot like me, you know,” he mused sadly. “Scares the hell out of her sometimes, she used to say.”
“Used to?”
A feeling of loss. “I haven’t seen her in more than four years. I don’t even know if she’s alive, although I was promised as much. No one dictates to PsyServ. Not even Captain Jace Serafino.” He squeezed her hand, and she knew he needed just to feel her warmth right now.
She squeezed back. “You said you needed my help. What can I do?”
“In eleven minutes? Oh, Eden, I do need your help, but you may have to take a lot of furzel-naps to get the whole story.”
“Couldn’t we talk in sick bay? The seizure was serious, but unless we mistime this meeting now, the implant shouldn’t activate again. I hope to have you responsive by tomorrow.”
A sad smile crossed his face. “The implant does more than just prohibit telepathy. It blanks parts of my conscious mind. The Jace Serafino you have in sick bay is only part of the person I am. And he’s not my better part.” He brought her hand to his lips and lightly brushed them across her knuckles. “Gods, woman, you are a gorgeous creature. I think I’ve told you that, haven’t I? And, yes, you are blushing beautifully again.
“The man you know out there as Captain Serafino,” he continued, with an upward nod of his head as if sick bay were off somewhere in the distance, “is a rake and a scoundrel, who has only one use for beautiful women—and it’s not friendship. And right now I really need a friend. I just wish you were ugly. It would make dealing with you so much easier.”
“Captain Serafino,” she said, gently withdrawing her hand from his, “we are both professionals. There’s no reason we can’t work together in that atmosphere.”
“No, of course not.” He laughed. “You underestimate yourself, Doc. But then, you probably have a fleet of men who tell you that daily.”
“Jace.”
“All right. Back to business. We have seven minutes. I’ll talk or transmit, whatever is easier. You listen.”
She nodded.
He was, as Tasha had termed it, a rogue telepath. He and his sister were the products of a liaison between a Nasyry priest and a rebellious daughter of a wealthy Kel family.
Why aren’t you with your father’s people? Couldn’t they help you?
A twinge of anger mixed with shame. We were, for many years. But the Nasyry have no love of weakling half-breeds. Saj-oullum, we’re called.
She recognized the term. Consorts of dead minds. It startled her to realize that Jace was very much like her.
Then you and Bianca—
She’s all I have. She and Jorden. He has my talent, by the way—his mother doesn’t. To the Nasyry, she’s oullum. An outcast. Which may be how Bianca made the one big mistake in her life: her PsyServ lover, Galen Kel-Rea. Jorden’s father. That’s how this whole thing started.
Eden saw and felt how the quiet, methodical woman, living with her mother’s family on Sellarmaris, was totally unprepared for the handsome PsyServ agent who’d swept her off her feet—solely to gain access to Jace. It had taken the agent ten years of pretending to love Bianca for Bianca to trust him enough to arrange for him to meet with her brother, who by then had already established a reputation for himself as a daring mercenary.
Jace had hated the man on sight and later blamed himself for Bianca’s marriage. He’d spent little time with his sister over the years, the nature of his career keeping them out of touch for long periods. The first time he ever saw his nephew was the first time he met with Bianca’s husband. The agent’s talents were so strong that Jace didn’t pick up on the fact that he was a telepath. Not until it was much too late.
And then he learned something else: the PsyServ agent was an officer on the Vaxxar and was recommended for the mission by Captain Branden Kel-Paten.
The agent gave Jace the choice—work with us, permit the implant, or your sister and her son will die.
That was a little over four years ago. Jace made the only choice he could.
You’re the only non-Psy-Serv telepath I’ve found since that time, he told her. There is so much you need to know. It’s almost providential you’re on the Vaxxar, on his ship, and that you have access to everything this ship can do.
Did the admiral…was it on his orders that this agent seduced your sister? Military personnel follow orders, often not knowing the end result of their acts. Eden knew that was possible in this case, and yet the fact that Kel-Paten was party to Bianca Kel-Rea’s betrayal sickened her.
I don’t know. But it’s no secret he has a lot of influence at the Ministry of Intelligence and has been the brains behind a number of their operations. It’s also no secret I’ve been on his hit list ever since I made a fool of him out by Fendantun.
I do know that because of him, someone I love has been hurt. As much as I’d like to make that my sole focus, though, I can’t. There are bigger problems here. That’s why I had to take the risks I did. I need your help, or else more than just the Triad and this new Alliance will suffer.
She felt his pain, but she also felt his sincerity.
He raised her hand to his lips, then spoke out loud. “I’m about at my limit here. Trust me, Eden, but keep your bedroom door locked. My evil twin, you know.” He grinned wryly.
“I’ve asked Sebastian to help,” she said, ignoring the pleasurable little chills that ran up her spine at his touch.
“Excellent decision.”
“I think Kel-Paten has some med-files from PsyServ. They may give me some insight into your implant. Do you have enough time to tell me what you know about it?”
In a microsecond, an image of a small red and silver device flashed into her mind along with the words: That’s all I know.
It’s a start, she told him encouragingly.
He drew a deep breath. I have to go. His lips brushed against hers in a feather-light kiss just as he disappeared.
Next to her, Reilly shifted his considerable furry weight, demanding space that she automatically granted him. He rubbed his soft face against her arm, sensing that
his mommy was not quite asleep and not quite awake. If he nudged her a bit more, perhaps a can of food might appear.
But she only sighed and settled deeper into the coverlet. Reilly sighed also, purred for a while, and snuggled closer, only to be dislodged a bit later.
Mommy up?
No, Mommy wasn’t up. But something…something was. Golden eyes narrowed, searched the shadows of the cabin.
Bad Thing, sending out tendrils.
He couldn’t permit that.
Protect Mommy. Must protect Mommy.
He sent a small stream of energy back. Just a little Blink. Not a lot. It wasn’t time yet to let Bad Thing know he was here. Too dangerous. Reilly had much to learn before he could help.
The ugly, smelly light coiled back in upon itself.
Good.
Reilly slept lightly after that, furry ears alert, twitching.
Must protect Mommy.
ADMIRAL KEL-PATEN’S OFFICE
Eden disliked being called into the admiral’s office, especially when it was only a half hour after she’d awakened. Especially when she hadn’t finished her mid-shift version of breakfast yet. And most especially when she plotted with two captains against him.
At least, that was the way Eden’s overactive conscience viewed the situation. It made a private meeting with Kel-Paten almost qualify as a nail-biter.
She spotted Timmar Kel-Faray exiting the admiral’s office just as she arrived. He nodded in greeting, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. “He’s not happy over something. Sorry.”
Eden’s stomach plummeted. Oh, damn. He found out that Serafino was a Nasyry telepath. He found out that she was more than just an empath. No, worse. He found out that she’d asked Sass to break into his quarters and pilfer his files.
She weakly smiled her thanks. With a dozen guilty thoughts bouncing around in her head, she assumed her best professional mien, girded herself for battle, and she placed her hand against the office door scanner. It read her identity and the doors parted.
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