by Unknown
Her gaze went naturally to the vast area known as the Outer Ring. There were several hundred planets out there, some inhabited and others completely barren. And on one of those barren worlds lived her own people. She didn't know which one because that information had been deliberately kept from her.
Jalissa had left the world of the Coven at the age of , when it was discovered that she had a definite affinity for working with the crystals. She'd been sent to Tevingi, where she was taken in by a family who then presented her to the Trans/Med recruiter two years later as one of their own.
For years, her only contact with her people had been through telepathy, and those occasions had become less and less frequent as the years went by. The Kendors of Tevingi became, to all intents and purposes, her real family.
She'd never understood why she'd been sent, and when she'd asked, the only response was that the "gods had willed it." If so, they had yet to make known to her why she should have been ripped from her home and cast into the world of the Vantrans.
On this morning, as she stood there staring at the myriad small worlds on the galaxy's edge, Jalissa had to fight a cold, aching loneliness she hadn't felt since her first months on Tevingi. She was a Witch, and she was alone at the very center of Vantran power.
Shaking off the dark mood with difficulty, she hurried on to the small conference room where the briefing was to be held. I'm not a Witch, she told herself. I'm a Whisperer.
The first person she saw when she entered the room was Miklos Panera. He was standing at the glass wall that looked out to the gardens, his back to her as he drank from a gold-leaf mug. He was tall even for a Vantran, and his long, lean body was well-displayed in the form-fitting dark blue uniform of the Federation military. A series of braided golden ropes crisscrossed his wide shoulders, marking him as belonging to the Special Agency.
For a moment, Jalissa saw no one else in the room. She was astounded at her body's overreaction to this man, who had yet to even turn her way. Then Malvina and several others from Trans/Med greeted her by name, and Miklos Panera turned slowly to face her. She could not prevent herself from drawing in a sharp, quavery breath, but she quickly managed to compose herself as his startling green eyes bored into her. She thought that his wide, utterly masculine mouth curved slightly, but she couldn't be sure. And his gaze remained locked on her as he walked to an empty chair at the big round table, moving with that regal grace that belonged to the Vantrans alone and never failed to remind her of great, tawny cats.
The only remaining seat was directly across the table from him, and she slid into it as the Deputy Chair of the Federation called the meeting to order. Introductions were made, and Jalissa was grateful that the table was too large to permit handshakes. Instead, she and Panera acknowledged each other with small nodsand then she turned her attention to the Deputy Chair.
In short order, she learned in detail the activities of the renegade Warlock. Two sightings had been confirmed and several more were believed likely: all of them in the Outer Ring.
"Obviously, he has chosen the Outer Ring because it is there that he can have the greatest influence," the Deputy Chief stated. "I think we can safely assume that he'll stay there, so now we'll have a report on the current political situation on the other worlds of that region."
He turned the meeting over to a woman from the Special Agency whose area of expertise was the Outer Ring. From what she said, it appeared that many of those distant worlds teetered on the brink of anarchy.
Jalissa kept her gaze fixed on the speaker, but there was never a moment when she wasn't aware of the man across the table, who had yet to utter a word but still somehow managed to dominate the entire proceedings.
When the specialist had finished, Malvina spoke up. "The situation on those worlds could be greatly improved if we were permitted to go there."
"Perhaps that is so," the Chief of the Special Agency replied. "But the risk is too great at present. And as you know, it remains our policy to let those worlds go their own way unless they engage in inter-planetary war."
Malvina said nothing, but Jalissa knew exactly what she was thinking. Far from letting those worlds "go their own way," the Special Agency was among them, stirring up trouble and aiding whichever side they decided they could then control most easily.
"Do we know anything at all about this man?" someone else from Trans/Med asked. "Other than the fact that he claims membership in the Coven," he finished dismissively.
"Unfortunately, no. The description of him suggests that he could be Tevingianand in all likelihood he is, since they're the ones who were most closely associated with the Coven." Jalissa shot a glance at Malvina. They were the only Tevingians present, though of course Jalissa wasn't really one of them. But the only indication of Malvina's displeasure was a slight tautness along her jaw. Then Malvina spoke into the silence.
"Have you considered the possibility that he is exactly what he says he is: a Warlock?"
Jalissa shifted her gaze from Malvina to the head of the Special Agency as the man stared at Malvina with thinly veiled contempt.
"Yes, of course we've considered that, but we consider it to be highly unlikely. The Coven is gone. If any of them had escaped, we would surely have heard from them before now."
"Speak for yourself, Paktos," said a deep voice. "After giving the matter some consideration, I'm not so sure that he couldn't be a Warlock."
Everyone at the table turned their attention to Miklos Panera. If his superior at the Special Agency was annoyed at his interruption and the obvious insubordination, he hid it well. Glancing briefly back at the man, Jalissa felt a moment's sympathy for him. Being a superior to a Panera was to be not a superior at all.
"If any of the Coven did escape," Panera went on, "there's no reason to suppose that they would have changed their ways. The members of the Coven, if you recall your history, never left their home. People came to them. According to the old stories, they drew their powers from each other. "If this man is a Warlock, my guess is that he's a renegade. Either that, or the Coven has sent him out to 'test the waters,' so to speak. In a few months, it will have been a century since that final battle. Perhaps they believe they've waited long enough. Or I should say that their gods may have decided that," he added with a contemptuous smile.
He looked directly at Jalissa as he spoke, and for a moment, she thought she might actually have to sit on her hands to prevent herself from striking out at him to wipe that arrogant expression from his face. Then Malvina spoke into the silence once again.
"Assuming that he is a Warlock and that the Coven does still exist, what threat does it poseapart from the trouble that this one member is stirring up? As has been suggested, he could be simply a renegade, acting without the authority of the Coven.
"There were never very many of them to begin with, and their powers certainly can't represent a threat anymore."
"It isn't their powers," the Deputy Chief of the Federation Council stated. "It's their very existence. The members of the Coven ruled the hearts and minds of everyone who came into contact with them. They were worshipped as gods themselvesespecially by the people in the Outer Ring." "And what will be done if they do indeed still exist?" Malvina asked.
"No decision has been made about that," stated the Special Agency Chief abruptly.
"What you're saying is that you wouldn't rule out destroying them again," Malvina replied coldly. "We must insist that if they do exist, we be permitted to make contact with them."
"And just how do you propose to guarantee that your Whisperers won't be put under a spell? You forget the powers they have."
"It is a risk that I for one would be prepared to take," Jalissa said, speaking for the first time. "And as a Tevingian, I would be more likely to be acceptable to them than others might be."
All eyes were on her, but Jalissa felt only the touch of Miklos Panera's unreadable scrutiny. She met his gaze for a moment, then turned her attention to the Special Agency Chief.
&nb
sp; "If this man is a Warlock and a renegade, the Coven cannot be held responsible for his actions. He should be returned to them."
"He is already guilty of the crime of seditionand as such, he must be brought to justice," the man said, glaring at her. "It was not my idea that a Whisperer accompany Miklos on this mission, and I think it's important to state now that you are not authorized to act on your own this time, Jalissa Kendor."
Before Jalissa could reply to that, Malvina re-entered the fray, and the meeting quickly dete- riorated into the usual bickering between the two groups. Miklos Panera remained silent, but his eyes never left Jalissa.
The Deputy Chief finally brought the meeting to an end, and Jalissa rose to leave with Malvina and the others. But the voice of Miklos Panera stopped her. She turned to face him, and found herself staring at his broad chest before she raised her head to meet his eyes.
"We will leave in three hours. I trust that will be sufficient time for you to prepare?"
"Yes, of course."
"The Outer Ring is a primitive place, Specialist Kendorfar more primitive than anything you've encountered before. I would suggest that you bring clothing more suited to such an environment than the robe of your office. No one there has ever seen a Whisperer, and most have probably never heard of your profession. In fact, it would probably be wise for you to wear a military uniform, since they do know what that stands for. I will try to find one for you."
"I prefer to wear my robe," she replied. "Then the people will learn what a Whisperer is."
Once again, she thought she saw that fleeting smile touch his lips. "Very well then. I will meet you at the shuttle base."
Chapter Two
Jalissa had no sooner arrived at the shuttle base than a young woman in a Federation military uniform approached her.
"Specialist Kendor, please follow me," she said crisply, then turned and walked briskly away.
Trundling her bag behind her, Jalissa hurried to keep up with the Vantran's long strides. As a regular traveler, she knew the schedule for the shuttle that carried passengers to the lunar space-launching station, and there wasn't another shuttle scheduled for two hours.
To the young officer's credit, she did turn at one point, and seeing that Jalissa was having difficulty keeping up with her, she slowed her pace. Jalissa didn't thank her. Vantran women were just as arrogant as the men, and despite the woman's accommodation, Jalissa was irritateda not-infrequent occurrence when she was forced to deal with the Masters of the Galaxy.
How will I manage to get along with Miklos Panera? she wondered as they passed through the public area of the terminal and then were waved through to the military area. Obviously, they weren't taking one of the regularly scheduled public shuttles. She should have guessed that.
She'd spent the intervening hours thinking about this missionand about Miklos Panera. The man was impressive; there was no doubt about that. She could forgive herself for having been rather overwhelmed by him. But now that she'd met him, she should be able to put that silliness behind her. Henceforth, Miklos Panera would be an obstacle, not a man: an obstacle around which she must navigate very cautiously.
They entered a small lounge and she saw him, standing alone at the glass wall, staring out at the tarmac. It was a reprise of the first time she'd seen himand unfortunately, in more ways than one. The sunlight touched his golden hair and the twining gold braids on his shoulders. Jalissa managed to control her reaction better this timebut not those treacherous feelings.
The young officer left her there, and Panera turned toward Jalissa, his gaze sweeping over her robe. She expected another lecture on the inadvisability of wearing it, and was rather sur- prised when she got none.
And she was even more surprised when he reached for the handle of her bag. His own luggage wasn't in evidence, so it must already have been loaded. She surrendered her bag to him, though she didn't thank him. From anyone else, she would have accepted the help gratefullybut not from this arrogant Vantran.
The shuttle that awaited them was a small military vehicle that carried only a half-dozen passengers. They were the only two people aboard, save for the crew. As soon as they had seated themselves, the doors were closed and a disembodied voice ordered them to fasten their belts. As soon as they had done so, the seats whirred back into a reclining position. Panera had yet to utter a single word.
Scant seconds later, they were rumbling down the runway and then roaring off into the heavens, moving much more quickly than the larger shuttle she was accustomed to.
He finally broke the silence after the auxiliary engines were shut down and the noise level decreased considerably. ''We'll be taking a U-."
"Oh," she said, assuming that some response was required. Perhaps he was trying to impress her. She'd seen this newest spacecraft a few times at the lunar base. It was said to be very fast, which was goodbut it was also quite small, and the thought of spending days and weeks in cramped quarters with this man did little for her already fragile peace of mind.
That announcement had apparently exhausted his capacity for conversation, so Jalissa lapsed into a memory of the conversation she'd had with Malvina after the briefing.
Malvina had continued to speculate about whether or not the man they sought could be a Warlock. "If the Coven still exists, you can rest assured that despite what was said at the meeting, there will be no opportunity for us to make contact. The Vantrans will destroy it!
"And the last thing they'll want is for us to know the truth!"
Hearing the echo of Malvina's words now, Jalissa slanted a glance at Panera, who reclined in the seat next to hers. She was sure that Malvina was right about the Vantrans' intentions, and since she knew that the man they sought was indeed a Warlock, her fears for this mission had increased even more.
What Malvina had been trying to tell her was that her own life was in grave danger, because the Vantrans would not want her to carry the truth back to Trans/Med.
But was this man beside her actually capable of murdering her? Certainly he was capable of manipulating disputes between peoples and fomenting wars, but surely cold-blooded murder was different.
She didn't know what to think.
Perhaps he could justify the death of one Whis- perer if her knowledge threatened the future of the Federation.
One impression that had lingered from that briefing was the discomfort the Vantrans obviously felt when the subject of the Coven arose. The Vantrans were, and apparently always had been, a godless people who believed in nothing beyond their science. So it was understandable that they would be uncomfortable when faced with something science couldn't explain.
But what we don't understand, we fear, Jalissa thought. And what we fear, we try to destroy in order to rid ourselves of that fear.
The shuttle landed smoothly at the lunar base, then lumbered clumsily toward the series of airlocks that would take it inside the gigantic bubble on this airless orb.
When they disembarked under the protective bubble, Jalissa cast a suspicious eye on the nearly invisible dome. She'd never liked this place. The bubble seemed so fragiletoo fragile to hold back the deadly vacuum of space. But all spacecraft were launched from here, where there was no gravity to contend with.
When she lowered her gaze, she found Miklos Panera watching her with amusement. "I thought only first-time space travelers did that."
"I've never trusted it," she stated, even though she knew that to question the Vantrans' science was a grave offense to most of them. His amuse- ment made him seem more human, but it also irritated her.
But if he took offense, it didn't show. Instead, he turned to scan the cavernous terminal lobby, where hundreds of people were hurrying to and fro. At that moment, a child of about eight or nine careened into him as he ran laughing from a playmate.
Panera reached down to pick up the child and smiled at him. "Have you just come home?" he inquired as the boy stared at him, the child apparently realizing he'd committed a social mistake.
&nb
sp; The boy nodded as Panera set him back onto his feet, commenting that it was hard to be confined to a spacecraft.
"We've come all the way from Mafriti," the boy told him. "It's a long way."
His playmate, a girl of about the same age, now approached, and as Jalissa stood there in silent amazement, Panera carried on a spirited conversation with them about the recreation world they'd just visited. Then their parents, a Vantran couple, hurried up and apologized profusely to him. It was obvious that they knew who he was. Vantra might be proud of its democratic heritage, but it was clear to Jalissa that a Panera was still an object of considerable awe.
By this time, a young man in uniform had approached them, and as soon as the others had departed, he announced that he had a hovercraft waiting for them.
Jalissa followed them across the terminal, thinking about what she'd just witnessed and heard. Panera had told the children that he'd taken his two nieces to Mafriti recently, and it was obvious that he was very familiar with the children's section of that pleasure world.
It reminded her of yet another attribute of the Vantrans. They were a very family-oriented people, known for their indulgence of children. On many worlds, children were raised more harshly by parents determined to teach them their responsibilities, rather than to give them freedom and love. Such had certainly been the case with her own upbringingat least until she went to Tevingi, where traditions more closely resembled those of Vantra.
Apparently, Vantrans had no need to instill a sense of responsibility in their offspring. Jalissa thought sourly that they probably came into the world knowing what it meant to be Vantran.
They climbed into the hovercraft and exited the terminal through the locks, then skimmed the surface of the barren moon, headed toward the military base in yet another bubble. It was another luxury Jalissa wasn't accustomed to. If she'd been traveling alone, she would have been forced to wait for space on the scheduled hoverbus.
It was yet another way of letting Trans/Med know that it was not the equal of the military. Regardless of the urgency of the mission, Whisperers normally had to take regular transport.