by Jo Zebedee
“Yes.” It came automatically. The pressure relieved, just a little, and she gasped in relief. It built again.
“Right now, you’d do anything I asked. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” she said, the word wrenched from her. Her head hurt, bringing tears to her eyes.
Again, his hold increased. And again, dulling her thoughts and putting his will in their place. She put her hands to either side of her head but he held her even firmer, his eyes hard and impassive. She tried to shout for him to stop, that he was hurting, but couldn’t.
As quickly as it had started, his dominance ended. She slumped forward in relief.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “It’s not very pleasant, I believe, especially in a mind as strong as yours, ma’am.”
“Have you done this to anyone else?” she asked, shaken.
“No.” He spread his hands. “I can’t prove a negative, but I hope you know me well enough to believe me.”
Did she? She saw nothing sinister in his eyes now. Instead, he looked like a very tired and, she suspected, hungover young man.
And yet, he’d held her mind, completely. She'd have done anything he asked to get him to stop. And he’d had the balls to wield it on her. That’s what was needed if the Banned was going to do what it was created for and overthrow the bitch in Abendau. Her eyes moved to the photo frame beside her and the dark-eyed, smiling girl within. I promised I’d make her pay for what she did to you, to everyone on Ferran Five.
Rjala touched the screen inlaid in the desk and projected its information between them. A detailed plan of the palace of Abendau was highlighted on it.
“I think you’ll find my plans are far in advance of yours, Kare,” she said.
He took his time looking over the screen, reading the information displayed, and slowly a smile spread over his face. “Ma’am, this is incredible. The port is definitely the weak point. If we get into it, we can take the palace.”
“There is one thing I haven’t worked out how to overcome, and that’s their voice recognition. We could use an agent.”
“Maybe,” said Kare. “Can we find out about the system used? There could be a way to bypass it, if I can get the details.”
“I’ll get someone onto it.” Rjala leaned back in her seat. “One thing, Kare.”
“Yes?”
“I will only agree if it’s operationally sound. This isn’t a crusade for you and your family, this is about the Banned. If it looks viable, I’ll support your decision. But if it isn’t, I’ll refuse you. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, ma’am.”
“You can go.”
He didn’t stand, but instead said, “Ma’am, may I speak informally?”
“Go on.”
“My childhood was more difficult than you can ever know,” he said, “and it wasn’t fair. Dad was ill, he’d lost himself, and he was still expelled. When things went wrong it was as much the group’s fault as his.”
Kare ran his hand through his hair, the way he did when he was agitated. He dropped his hand, and the directness, the accusation, in his eyes went through her like a knife. She’d always wondered if he would bring it up and how she’d feel when he did. The answer was ashamed, like she was looking into the accusing eyes of Ealyn warning her that whatever happened would be her fault. It had felt like it, too, when the news of the crash had come through. And it had felt even sharper since Kare had returned, the survivor of a part of her life she’d hoped would be buried forever, the action she was most ashamed of.
“I remember,” she said. “What happened on the ship? Neither of you would tell us.”
Kare shook his head. “What happened on the ship died with them; there’s no need to go back to it now. My child isn’t to be treated that way, no matter how much pressure is put on the Banned. I want your promise that if I’m not here, this little Varnon will know that it wasn’t just Darwin who built the Banned, but Dad, too. I had to fight to get recognition while the le Paynes were treated like royalty, and it was wrong. Terribly wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, surprised to find her eyes stinging; it had been years since she’d let anything affect her like this. “You’re right. When your dad arrived back from Abendau, he carried you as if you were his greatest prize. And do you know what, Kare? You are. I’m proud to have you as my colonel, I’m proud to say you’re the best in my army. I’ll see your child is given their place. That if you’re not here, they’ll know they’re not just a le Payne, but a Varnon, too. You have my word.” She picked up the photo beside her. “I’ve hardly thought of Lena for years, you know. I’d look at her photo from time to time, without thinking of the person in it, if that makes sense.”
“Who was she?”
“My lover. My life. She died for me, and I swore I’d live for both of us. I tried to.”
He reached across the desk and put his hand over hers, clenched tight. “No one could have lived it better, Rjala,” he said. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Thank you.” She pulled her hand away, and got her emotions under control. It wasn't easy. “I’ll support you in the boardroom.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Ma’am, there is one other thing. I need you to agree to an operational matter, and allow me access to Captain Stitt.”
***
One more, thought Kare, as he walked away from Rjala’s office. He’d given Sonly his trust, promised Rjala his powers– now he had to give Michael what he needed: his honour.
His head thudded, partly from the effect of the drink last night– he’d known at the time he’d suffer, but had promised himself he wouldn’t regret it– and partly from the effort of holding Rjala’s mind. He’d expected her to be hard to dominate, but had been taken aback by just how difficult. And that was a non-psycher. His mother did it to people every day. She was the strongest mind-dominant in the galaxy, and he was going up against her. He must be mad. Mad or desperate.
He mulled over that. Desperate, he decided, and desperation might give him the strength he needed. Again, his head throbbed, and he shook it to clear it a little; gods, she was tough.
He reached Michael’s door and rapped on it. This is the hardest one. Michael, as chairman, knew the antipathy between him and Eevan, and wouldn’t want to be seen taking sides.
A low, measured voice asked him to come in, and he did, sitting in the seat offered. Michael looked at him over thin glasses, his grey beard neatly trimmed, white against his dark skin.
“You asked to see me, Kare?”
“Did Sonly give you the data pad?” asked Kare. He hoped so; his head was pounding so much he didn’t want to start going into the details again.
“It was very interesting.”
“Michael, I need your support to take it forward. At the moment, I think the board will be deadlocked.”
Michael opened the data pad. “Everything in it is possible, given time and support. Resources. All the things the Banned lacks.”
“If we take the empire, we have the resources. We have an army, income from the planets– that’s in there, in the terms– and the legacy. It will work, provided we take out the Empress, and the general believes we have a viable chance of that.”
“And if you don’t? If you get taken, where does that leave us?”
Kare paused. He’d known this would be Michael’s concern. My honour, he reminded himself.
“If I’m taken, I won’t betray the Banned.”
Michael snorted. “Do you know what they do in Omendegon?”
Oh yes, better than you. He’d watched someone tortured in it; held their hand while they were. Omendegon wasn’t some dark secret to him, a place where people disappeared to and never came back from. “Yes.”
“Then you know you’ll tell them what they want. Psycher or not, they can hurt you quicker than you can stop them. They’ll lock you in a cell with no one to manipulate, and torture you until you break.”
All
true. Kare forced himself to keep breathing in deep, measured breaths. Even so, his heart felt like it was beating too fast and the pounding in his head grew worse.
“You know too much for us to send you in,” said Michael. “If you were just proposing a task force, I’d say yes. What can an individual soldier tell them? But you’re a colonel, you know how our military works, all our systems. You’ve helped place spies.”
“Do you know what I did with the spies?” Kare asked, seizing on the opening. He’d thought he’d have to bring the conversation round to them himself.
“Something about blocking their real memories and placing a false identity.”
Kare nearly smiled, he was sure Michael knew the details of what had been done.
“Yes, a block that’s programmed to safeguard them if they’re mind-swept. It took a lot of time to perfect, but now they’re in, we know it works.” He leaned forward to Michael. “I’ve put one in my own mind, one that will come into effect should I be captured. It will not lift, no matter what duress I am under, and it will block me from telling them anything about the Banned. I have one problem, though.”
Actually, he had several– not least, telling his wife about this.
“Which is?” asked Michael.
“I placed it, which means I can remove it. You asked me if I know what happens in Omendegon. Yes, I do. I’m not a stupid man.”
Michael touched the data pad. “I can see that.”
“I’m assuming they can get me to talk. I am, after all, just as susceptible to pain as the next person.”
“What do you propose?”
Kare took his comms unit from his pocket. “Do you mind if I make a call?”
“Go right ahead,” said Michael. His eyes watched Kare, revealing nothing, and the waves of emotions coming from him were slight. Either that or Kare was too drained to pick them up.
The comms unit was quickly answered.
“Now, if you will,” said Kare. He put the unit down, and a few moments later Captain Stitt entered the room.
“Sarah, thanks for coming,” said Kare. He turned to Michael. “I want you to witness this, so that when it comes up in the board meeting you can confirm I have done it.” He looked back at Stitt. “Did the general speak to you?” She nodded. “Then you know what to do.”
Stitt reached her hand out, and Kare felt realisation stir in Michael.
“You can’t,” he said.
“I already have,” said Kare. “This is just the precaution, nothing more. Sarah, if you put your hand on me, I’ll do the rest.”
He took her power, small though it was, and moved it to the compulsion he’d placed in himself and sealed it. He waited a moment, made sure it was complete, and then moved his head away.
“Thank you, Sarah,” he said. “Can you confirm that your power is now holding my compulsion. That, without you, I won’t be able to lift the block.”
“Yes,” she said.
Her eyes met Kare’s, and he gave her a smile. “Thank you. Dismissed.”
Stitt left and Kare waited, facing Michael, feeling oddly calm now he’d done it.
“You’re as mad as your father,” said Michael.
“If I was, the general wouldn’t have agreed to it. She understands it’s an operational decision, that I’m one man amongst many. I don’t know how many times I have to say this before I’m believed: this is my fight. Not the spies I might give up, or the troops I’d betray, or the group whose secrets I’d reveal. Or my family’s. It’s mine. And I was going to do what I just did, however I did it. I could have compelled Stitt, but I didn’t: I was honest, with the general and now you. If you send me in, I won’t betray the group.”
“You’re brave then, if you’re not mad.”
There was a lump in Kare’s throat. He didn’t know if he was, just that he didn’t have any choice. “Will you back me?”
Michael looked at the plans. “I think I’ll have to. This is the best chance we’ve ever had, and you know it. Yes, bring it to the boardroom, and I’ll back you.”
Kare stood, his legs shaking. It was tempting to blame the hangover, but he knew better. Brave? He almost laughed. He wasn’t brave, he was terrified.
My trust, my power, my honour.
Now, he just had to deliver.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Six months later.
“I had no idea it would be so bloody,” Kare said. Silom yawned, and Kare wondered if he was boring him. But he’d had no idea he would feel like this, like he’d watched a miracle happening. After the birth, he’d sat and held his daughter while Sonly was checked over. He’d even cooed, and he had been sure people didn’t really do that.
“You know, it took hours. I kept seeing the head and thinking this is it, and then it vanished again.”
“Enough,” Silom said, his face horrified. “Can we go in?”
“I’ll check,” Kare said. He bounced over and opened the door opposite.
“Are you okay with Silom coming in?” he asked. Sonly nodded, her eyes tired but bright, and he called Silom in.
“You look a lot better than I expected,” Silom said. “In fact, you look a hell of a lot better than Kare.”
Kare barely registered the insult. He leaned over and looked at the baby in Sonly’s arms. Whatever it took to keep her safe….
“Do you want to hold her?” Sonly offered Silom, who took a step back, eyes darting, making Kare smile. Lichio had been much better, holding the baby and talking to her like she understood him.
“You must be joking,” Silom said. “I’d drop her.” He smiled, and took a closer look, not making any move to hold her. “Although I might need the practice– Kym keeps saying she wants one. Better not let her within ten feet of this; it’d finish the argument off. Anyway, what colour eyes? I have a lot riding on green.”
“Blue,” she told him, and his face fell. She paused for a moment, making Kare smile. She knew all about the bet Lichio and Silom had made. “But they might change; we won’t be sure until she’s about six months old.”
“Make sure you tell your brother that,” Silom said. He reached out and stroked the baby's head, surprising Kare with his gentleness. “She’s very cute.”
Kare took the baby, unable to resist any longer. She fit into his arms, a comfortable weight. He looked down at her half-closed eyes, her mouth pursed like a bud. “She’s more than cute. She’s lovely.”
“What’s her name?”
“Kerra,” Sonly said. “I chose it; she’s my little bit of Kare to keep while he’s away.”
Kare grimaced. When Sonly stopped telling everyone that, it would good. Anytime soon.
“That’s nice.” Silom’s words were deadpan, but Kare was sure there was a laugh hidden in them. He looked around the ward, taking his time, scanning. “How long will you stay here?”
“I’m going to go back to the apartment today,” she said. “Then we have a couple of weeks before you and Kare go.”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Kare said. “You know, Silom, I reckon you’re right with green.” He touched the baby’s mind, very gently. There was a small response, a light finger of sensation in his own. “She certainly has some powers.”
The door opened and a nurse came in. Silom jerked his head at the door, desperately rolling his eyes, and Kare handed the baby back to Sonly. Time to put Silom out of his misery. “We’ll wait outside.”
The two men walked to the door of the hospital wing and stood in the sunshine. Kare tipped his head up to the sun, enjoying its warmth, wishing he could stay and not go to Belaudii with its desert winds and its city waiting to reclaim him. He’d been planned, conceived and born in Abendau and had always known it lay ahead for him. He didn’t want it. A shiver ran through him, and he forced his mind away from the doubts, focusing instead on a crowd of teenage girls sitting on a bench nearby, laughing over something on a comms unit.
“I should try to get outsid
e every day,” he said. “This is nice.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Silom said. “You’re hard enough to protect without taking up rambling.”
Kare grinned; it was exactly what he’d expected Silom to say. A sharp sting on his neck made him draw his breath in a hiss.
“What is it?” asked Silom, alert, eyes casting around.
“Nothing, an insect.” He put his hand up, feeling for the sting, and turned at the sound of footsteps.
“Poor baby." Sonly had changed into cargo trousers and a tunic top, her hair neatly styled. He looked down at the crumpled t-shirt he’d pulled on when she’d woken him. He guessed his hair was probably sticking up, and he needed a shave. Silom was right; he was more freaked out than she was.
“I’m glad you agree. I thought you might say something predictable about labour pains. Do you want me to carry her?” He took the baby, keeping her head up, the way the nurse had shown him. He nearly cooed, remembered Silom was there, and stopped himself.
Silom nudged him and he looked up to see Eevan approaching. He pointedly ignored Kare and looked at the baby instead, before turning to Sonly. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Sonly said. “We’re both very pleased.”
“I suppose you are,” Eevan said. Sonly ducked into the transport, and as Silom closed her door, Eevan turned to Kare. “That’s another thing for you to worry about: a new Varnon.”
Kare couldn’t decide if there was anything more than the usual nastiness behind his statement. “Don’t worry, Eevan: a couple of weeks and you’ll be rid of me.” He passed the baby to Sonly and got into the transport.
“I wish he didn’t know about the attack,” admitted Sonly.
“We had to tell him sometime. It’ll be fine, Sonly, don’t worry. Only Rjala and I know the details.”
Even so, as they were transported back to the main base, his thoughts kept going back to the dark, brooding eyes. Absently rubbing at the sting on his neck, Kare glanced at the baby beside him and tried to dispel the lingering doubt that there was something very, very wrong here.
***
Kare opened his eyes. The room was dark around him. The baby was quiet and Sonly asleep. He sat up, careful not to disturb them. The buzz of minds was gone. He tried to reach out and turn on the soft light in the living area– nothing happened, and his throat tightened with fear. He started to pull on his clothes.