by Jaleta Clegg
"Why?" I shuddered. This wasn't the easy answer I wanted.
"We couldn't trace them. All of their records were faked. Who else have you been messing with?" Hovart turned his chair around backwards and straddled it.
"Not Targon or Blackthorne this time," I said. They were no longer existent crime organizations.
Hovart raised his eyebrows. "I'm going to have to hear that story sometime."
"I can't think of anyone." I let my voice trail off. What about the Hrissia'noru? Lowell had seemed surprised that Myriassima would help me, considering I was in Mart's company. Could they have sent people to kill me? What good would it have done them? Mart was dead. I wasn't a threat. Unless you counted knowing they existed. But wasn't I one of them? At least genetically.
"Tell me now," Hovart said levelly. "You know who they are."
"I can guess," I said.
He waited for me to tell him. Would I be putting him in danger by telling him they existed? They obviously valued their privacy and secrecy.
"You aren't going to tell me, are you?"
"I don't know if I can."
He gave me an exasperated look. And then stiffened in his chair. I felt the slightest tingle through my head, like the faraway touch of lightning through the air. Hovart was out of his chair and on his com without seeming to move.
"Status report," he barked. He listened to the answers through an earpiece. His look went from alarmed to confused. He finally turned to look at me, studying me intently. "That was a psychic assault, more powerful than anything thought possible."
"I didn't feel it," I answered. Only I had, the barest brush of energy in my mind.
"It was aimed at you. I have three of my people down, knocked out completely. I just hope the damage isn't permanent. Now will you tell me who these people are?"
"The Hrissia'noru. If you want the whole history lesson, you'll have to ask Lowell. They're genetically altered humans who have a greater psychic capacity than the norm."
"And why are they after you?"
"I don't know. All I can guess is that I've learned too many of their secrets. Like the fact that they even exist."
"Why didn't the attack knock you out? It was focused here." He looked like he was having a hard time believing any of it.
"I have no psychic abilities, none whatsoever."
He turned away, talking urgently into his com. The vid screen showed the news clip of my ship landing on Linas-Drias again.
Why hadn't I been affected? I'd been affected badly on Shamustel, the last time I was attacked psychically. It had to have been the bond with Mart. The attack was funneled through him. Now they were after me directly. They were doomed to fail as long as they stuck to mind power. Were they going to send more assassins? I shivered, holding my side. I was going to have a scar to remind me of that last attack.
I heard a scuffle in the hall. Were they moving so quickly? They hadn't wasted any time. I stared at the vid screen. The announcer's voice rolled past me, unheard.
Hovart came in the room. He had a woman by the arm. She was short, wispy and fluttery. Her silver hair floated around her head.
"She says she knows you," Hovart said.
"She does. You can let her go. She isn't the one who wants me dead." I studied Ti'uro's face, hoping that was still true. I would have slapped her if it didn't hurt so much to move.
Ti'uro smiled as Hovart let go of her arm. She closed her eyes, humming and swaying. She raised her hands.
I decided I could move after all. I rolled off the bed and staggered to stand in front of Ti'uro. Her eyes stayed closed, her nasal humming droning into my head. I raised my hand. The slap echoed in the room. Her voice died as her eyes flew open. She stared at me with her huge silver eyes as she raised one hand to delicately touch her cheek.
"Stay out of my head," I whispered.
"I could not touch your mind if I wished. It was only through Mart that I could reach you."
I blinked back tears. "Why did you mend that bond? Larella severed it. I never wanted it. When he died, he almost took me with him."
She shook her head, her dandelion hair shivering with the motion. "It was not severed, only damaged. That would have destroyed you both if I had not healed it. I am sorry, truly. The ways of fre'zhria are beyond our comprehension."
"Don't give me that excuse. I never chose it. I am not one of you."
"But you are one of us. You are Hrissia'noru. You do not choose your destiny."
"I do. I choose who I bond with. I choose my life." Lady Rina had said my life was one of choices. I believed her more than I believed Ti'uro.
"Treis nouri," Ti'uro said as she lowered her hand from her cheek. It sounded like a benediction. "You do not have to worry about the Hrissia'noru. We will deal with our own. Since you do not choose us, we will not interfere. Those who sought your life have been apprehended." She cocked her head. "Do you still have my necklaces?"
"They should still be in the hold of my ship."
We glanced at the vid screen displaying the incongruous picture of the Phoenix, a chicken among peacocks. Ti'uro smiled again, more of a grin. The mysterious aura she'd walked in with was rapidly fading. She was only a wispy young woman.
She sighed. "My jewelry travels farther than I ever will."
"Do you want it back?" I asked.
"Do either of you want to say something that makes sense?" Hovart interrupted.
"You don't need to worry about any more attempts on my life," I said.
Ti'uro smiled at him. "She will be quite safe now." She turned back to me. "If you find those who would treasure them as I do, then please share them. I gave them to you, use them as you see fit." She turned to go.
"Wait," Hovart said, reaching for her arm again. He stopped short of grabbing her.
She waited, polite and distant. "What do you wish?"
"Who are you? In case we need to find you again."
"You suspect me?" She laughed, amused. It was a light laugh, full of silver bells and distant music. "My name is Ti'uro. I do not currently have an address to give you. But I assure you, Commander Hovart, Dace is quite safe. You are not the only one watching over her."
Ti'uro left while he was still gaping at her last statement. He looked at me. I shrugged.
"Do you believe her?" he asked me.
"If she says I'm safe from psychic attacks, yes." I bent over to pick up the scattered cards. I winced at the pain in my side.
"You shouldn't be doing that," Hovart said as he knelt at my feet to collect up the cards.
"And you shouldn't be doing that, either," I answered.
"Is everything all right?" Aramis asked in the doorway. "We saw the news and were on our way here when the attack came."
"You felt it, too?" I asked.
"Anyone with a trace of ability felt that," he answered.
Fya looked over Aramis' shoulder, assuring himself that everything was as normal as it ever was around me.
The scene on the vid shifted. The announcer was on, looking serious and very confused.
"We have a new update, just hours behind the footage we've shown. It appears the rumors of a coup attempt are confirmed." He paused, holding his earplug and frowning in concentration as he listened. "Several high ranking Patrol officers have been taken into custody in connection with the attempt. The crew of the mysterious ship that landed earlier remains unnamed. We have no indication of how they are involved, only that the information they brought was crucial to uncovering the plot."
I started laughing. It hurt, horribly, but I couldn't stop myself. Until they flashed my picture across the screen.
"It appears that the captain of the ship, the Phoenix Rising, has been in custody here for almost two weeks. Her connection with the rebellion is still unclear." He paused again.
Hovart watched me with one eyebrow raised. Fya and Aramis grinned.
"Great news," Leon crowed as he burst in. Somehow I wasn't surprised he was there.
"Shh," Fya shus
hed him.
"They're talking about me and I don't want to hear it," I said. They were bringing up my past accomplishments, at least the public ones. I shut the vid screen off. "Go watch it out in the hall."
Fya sat in the chair and Aramis shut the door. Neither one left.
Leon waved a paper. "You've been pardoned. With the sector governor's personal apologies for any inconvenience. The Patrol base commander added his, too." Leon's grin was about to split his head in half. "You're a hero again. And so are they, even if they won't stand up in front of a camera," he added, nodding at the dark vid screen. "I got a private message about an hour ago, from Lowell, for you. He said to tell you your ship will be here to pick you up in about a week." He turned back to Hovart. "So, you bully boys aren't needed anymore. You can go home."
"You can stay if you want," I said.
Leon opened his mouth to lecture me.
"They're my friends, Leon."
"We'll stick around," Hovart said.
They did, even after I was transferred back to the Patrol compound. This time I was an honored guest. The accommodations weren't much more comfortable. They also involved a lot more social events. I played up my injury to escape as many as possible. It was a long week until the Phoenix landed.
Chapter 46
Tayvis stood at attention, face impassive. His black uniform was spotless, insignia shining on his collar. He stared at the wall above the heads of the inquiry board, which consisted of the Patrol High Command minus two members. Lowell had recused himself from the proceedings at the insistence of the others. Commander Nuella was nowhere to be found.
Commander Vandergilt leaned forward, clearing her throat. "We find ourselves in a difficult situation. But then, treason is never simple or easy, is it?"
"I followed orders," Tayvis said.
"That's the problem. The orders did not come from your commanding officer, Grant Lowell." Vandergilt folded her hands, then rested them on the desk in front of her. "We have discussed your situation and we understand your reasoning. Commander Lowell has been acting strangely for some time. Commander Nuella was not the only one to suspect he had lost his mind. But." She let the word hang in the air.
Silence fell in the room for a long moment.
Vandergilt cleared her throat. "No formal charges will be filed against you. However, you will be reassigned to Exploration and demoted from Sector Commander. Effective immediately. You will report to the shuttle launch bay immediately for transport to your new posting aboard the Wanderer." She tapped the screen set into her desk. "It is scheduled for a ten-week tour of duty through unexplored space beyond Tebros. Your term of enlistment will be up shortly after you return. We do not recommend you re-enlist. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir." Tayvis kept his face impassive. At least they weren't tossing him out or charging him. But Exploration? His gaze flickered to Vandergilt's face, then back up to the wall behind her head. He could try justifying his actions, but he doubted anyone would listen. He'd only tried to keep Lowell from being killed. Dace had to understand, somehow, that he hadn't wanted to arrest her. He thought he could play Nuella, but everything had twisted sideways. He'd had to do what he did.
"Then you are dismissed. Your shuttle will be lifting within the hour."
Tayvis saluted, turned on his heel, then marched from the room.
Lowell was here, on Linas-Drias, along with the crew of the Phoenix. Minus Dace. Tayvis had sent her to Hestia, to prison. He hadn't been given a choice, Vance had dogged his every move. He couldn't let Vance realize how much Dace meant to him. He'd never wanted to hurt her, not that way.
He traced his steps through the building towards his temporary quarters.
One of Vandergilt's aides stopped him at the door. "I'm sorry, sir, but everything you need has already been sent to the ship. Any remaining personal belongings will be stored for your return. Can I escort you to the shuttle bay?"
Tayvis tried to remember the man's name, but drew a blank. "Thank you but that won't be necessary."
The aide shook his head. "I'm afraid it is necessary. Sir."
Tayvis forced a smile. "Lead on."
He followed the aide through the building. They were sending him as far away as possible, out of touch for months. Dace would never understand, not unless he could figure a way to send her a message. Something innocuous, something only she would understand.
They passed through the lobby of the Patrol headquarters building. The aide opened the door on a waiting flitter. Tayvis sat inside.
The aide leaned through the open door to speak to the driver before turning to Tayvis. His eyes flicked over Tayvis' black Enforcer uniform. "They'll have new uniforms waiting for you at the port. I need your insignia, sir."
"They'll have that waiting for me, too, I presume?" Tayvis pulled the Sector Commander's clusters from his collar and dropped them into the aide's waiting palm.
"It's up to the captain to decide your rank and posting." The aide stepped back and saluted as the door slid shut.
Tayvis stared at his hands as the flitter lifted, merging into traffic above Linas-Drias.
"We'll do what we can, Tayvis," the driver spoke.
Tayvis looked up, met her eyes in the mirror. "Be careful who you cross, Seya. Lowell has powerful enemies."
"You can't just give up."
"They want someone to blame. In three months, it won't matter what they think of me."
"You're throwing away your career."
"It was over anyway. I wasn't planning on re-enlisting." He shifted on the seat. The Patrol space port spread over the coastline in front of them. "Can you get a message to Lowell for me?"
Seya smiled. "You aren't giving up."
"It isn't for him." He pulled a small card from his pocket, writing a quick note on it before passing it over the seat to Seya. Dace would understand. She had to. In three months, he'd be back. He'd find her and make her understand.
Chapter 47
Six weeks later…
The wind was light, slightly chill. The sun of Shamustel was bright, though, shining in a cloudless blue sky. I stood in the deserted courtyard of Myriassima's home and shivered. I'd come back and I wasn't quite sure why. Maybe to lay ghosts that haunted me. Maybe to find answers about myself and what had happened. Maybe to find peace for Mart. I wasn't the same person I'd been. I had part of his soul, and part of mine had died with him.
The house was deserted, up for sale as abandoned property. The leaves from the tree drifted along the edges of the courtyard. They rustled in the breeze. The house held no answers. I could ask Lowell the next time I saw him. Except I was hoping I never saw him again. He hadn't been on my ship when it landed. Neither had Beryn or Scholar and his gang. It had been only Jasyn, Clark, Jerimon, and Larella flying.
We'd fallen back into a routine, sort of. Leon had shown up when the ship landed. He read us Lady Rina's will. We owned most of her business interests. We were working our way down his list of worlds and business contacts, signing papers at each office and finding out what we now owned. Leon was still the manager, he kept the whole thing working. We hauled a few cargoes, more because they needed to go where we were headed than because we needed the money. They were technically our cargo anyway. They were all for companies we now owned. It was an odd feeling. We didn't have to worry about money. Most of the business managers were polite and helpful. Some were happy to see us.
We'd come to Shamustel because Lady Rina had owned interests in several businesses here. It had taken an hour to convince the local police that we were not going to cause trouble. And another hour to convince them we had legitimate business holdings on the planet. And another hour to argue them into letting us have access to the city. It had finally taken intervention by one of Lady Rina's managers before they gave in. We had Family backing now. We may have been one of the smallest clans in existence, and definitely one of the strangest, but we were one of the wealthiest and most powerful. I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to it.
<
br /> I still had questions, mostly about myself, but Myriassima's deserted house held no answers. Only dead leaves whispering secrets to each other on the wind. I went back out through the open gate and climbed in the private cab.
I told it I wanted to go back to the port. The flitter lifted quietly and flew towards the port gates, its autopilot steering us around the busy commercial district. It landed and I paid the fare.
I went through the gate onto the landing field. The police officer on duty nodded politely. I walked across the landing field, passing through the towering ships and the supply cranes and cargo transports. The smells were familiar. I felt more at home on a landing field than just about anywhere else.
I couldn't say I was happy. I'd always have sorrow where Mart had touched my soul. And I'd lost Tayvis. I hadn't heard anything from him. It was over between us. I still had his pictures on the door of my locker. I didn't want it to be over. But I had to face the truth. No relationship could survive what we'd been through. I'd shot him and he'd arrested me. I didn't blame him, he was only doing his duty. But I couldn't see how he could forgive me for what I'd done.
I came in sight of my ship. Someone was sitting on the boarding ramp, waiting. He wore a plain gray shipsuit, a duffel at his feet. I walked faster, recognizing the tilt of his head.
"Beryn," I greeted him as I reached the end of the boarding ramp. "What brings you out here? How's Caid?"
He looked up at me. I read the sadness in his eyes.
"He took the Swan for a final flight. He took Lady Rina and her ship and flew them into the sun. He always said he'd rather die in a blaze of glory." He gave me a wry smile. "He was dying anyway. I don't know the details. He loved her, more than I think she knew." Beryn rose to his feet. "I came looking for a job, Dace. Do you have room for an engineer?"
"For you? Always. I'm sorry to hear about Caid. But I can't say I'm surprised."
"I don't think I was, not really." He picked up his duffel.
"We're not doing much trading. Make that none right now."