“Stop! Max, look there, in the far corner. See? The rock whirlpool started turning at the edges of the open area in the tunnel. That’s what I saw.”
“You’re right. It melted from the outer to the inner area and then collapsed.”
I took a swallow of my cacao. “Run it forward again, slowed down.”
The motion reversed again, showing the whirlpool forming as we leapt into the air. “I just don’t get it. How could rock liquefy like that and then solidify again? It happened so fast.”
“I don’t know,” Max said. “It would require an expenditure of energy and heat far greater than what was available in that tunnel or that you could survive.”
“I brought back a chunk of the rock.” I motioned at the holos. “You can turn this off.”
The images disappeared. “Shall I send the rock to a lab for analysis?” Max asked.
“You do the analysis. I’ll put a sample of the rock in my gauntlet.”
“I can’t tell much with just the gauntlet sensors.”
“Do what you can. I don’t want anyone else to know about what happened yet.”
“Will do.” He paused. “I have an incoming from Exec Tallmount.”
“Put her on audio.”
Tallmount’s confident voice came into the air. “My greetings, Major Bhaajan. I understand you wished to talk to me?”
“My greetings. I had the impression yesterday that you wanted to talk to me.”
“Yes, I did. But privately.”
“This line is private, no monitors.”
“Good.” She paused. “It’s about what the others said yesterday, that I was considered for the Metropoli contract.”
“Jen Oja said as much, too.” I thought back to our discussion. “She said five of you were in line for the account.”
“That’s what the higher ups at Scorpio claimed. I doubt I was ever really on the list.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s an impression.” She paused. “I think only Mara and Daan had a chance. Someone at Scorpio wanted it to appear as if they were considering all of us, but it never felt genuine to me.”
Ho! Mara Quida and Daan Bialo were the only ones who belonged to the Desert Winds club. “Did you resent that?”
“Not really. I never expected to get it. I’m new at Scorpio.” She spoke dryly. “It appears I may not be here much longer.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not discreet enough about politics.”
Ah. Her Majda comments. “Do you regret that?”
She spoke as if she were tiptoeing through a field of broken glass. “I regret any offense I may have given to anyone in the city.”
If she continued with that tact, she’d probably keep her job. I wasn’t sure what to think of the Majdas, though. Until now, they’d been reasonable employers, intimidating but fair, Lavinda especially. Max claimed they wouldn’t try to kill me, and I wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t risk trusting them. I needed to find out more about Sav Halin, the supposed reporter who tried to whack me in the garden of the Quida mansion.
I pretended to speak in a relaxed manner. “It’s those damn holo-reporters. They get every comment on the meshes no matter how discreet we intend to be. I avoid them like an ex-lover.”
Tallmount laughed good-naturedly. “Hell, I’d take the ex first.”
I sipped my cacao. “One reporter at the gala seemed nosier than most. Sav Halin.”
“Halin? I think she’s a friend of the Majdas.”
I almost choked on my drink. How the hell did Tallmount know that little gem of data? “Really? I thought she worked for one of the city broadcasters.”
“I saw her talking to Colonel Lavinda Majda. It looked like they knew each other.”
That added another wrinkle this case didn’t need. “Thanks for getting back to me. If you think of anything else that might shed some light on the case, let me know.”
“I will. Be well.”
With that, Tallmount and I signed off.
“Well, that was interesting,” I said.
“Indeed,” Max told me. “I’m not sure you’re going to like this next interesting thing.”
“What thing?”
“You have a call from the palace.”
CHAPTER XI
SHADOWBOXING
Lavinda and I walked through the park in the city center of Cries. She was out of uniform today, dressed in blue trousers and a white silk shirt. Lawns sprinkled with small purple flowers bordered the path, and tiny fliers buzzed by us like miniature dragons from Earth’s mythology. We passed an oxygen-producing hedge, and I glimpsed an oxygen mister in another arbor. Maybe that was how the Majdas grew their gardens high in the oxygen-scarce mountains, using imported tech and plants.
After I joined the army, I realized what an unusual world I came from. Only this narrow strip near the pole stayed cool enough for humans, and it still felt too hot. This world boasted only one modern city; with the planet becoming less and less habitable, it didn’t make sense to build more. Cries survived because it was the first city established in the Ruby Empire, and it remained home to one of the most powerful families in the Imperialate. As long as the Majdas wanted to live here, the terraformers would find a way to make this small part of Raylicon agreeable. The mayor wanted to change the name of Cries to something more palatable for offworld tourism, maybe Saint Parval after the local mountain range, but to me it would always be the city where people wept, the last stand of humans on a dying planet.
As I walked with Lavinda, I outlined my progress on the investigation, leaving out Jak’s casino and the High Mesh. I finished with, “I haven’t found any link between Mara Quida and Chiaru Starchild except their membership in the Desert Winds.”
“The Winds?” Lavinda gave me a startled glance. “I didn’t know Chiaru belonged.”
So. She was on a first-name basis with Inna’s wife. “You know Chiaru Starchild?”
She looked out at the park, avoiding my gaze. “Years ago. We were in school together.”
“But you don’t go to the club?” I couldn’t help my curiosity. I’d never come close to visiting a place as elite as the Desert Winds.
“I’ve been there a few times with Vaj. It didn’t interest me enough to join.” She seemed more pensive than usual. “I’m not comfortable there. It seems so, I don’t know. Stuffy.”
It surprised me to hear her talk so easily. “You prefer other places?”
“I’m a bit of an introvert,” she admitted. “A quiet evening at home with my family is my idea of a high time.”
“Mine, too.” I understood better now why I felt that way; empaths tended to retreat from large crowds of people. “A glitzer, I’m not.”
Lavinda smiled. “Can you imagine us as cyb-fibbers?”
I gave a startled laugh. What a thought, a Colonel in the Pharaoh’s Army and a Majda heir to boot, decked out in torn glitz rags.
“I should try it sometime,” she said. “Just to see the look on Vaj’s face.”
I grinned. “It would certainly shake up things.”
Her smile faded. “Do you think Vaj is at risk for what happened to Quida and Starchild?”
“I hope not. But she should increase her guard.” If someone disappeared the General of the Pharaoh’s Army, this turned into a crisis of interstellar proportions. However, Vaj Majda had no connection to the Black Mark. She knew it existed, sure. The Majdas had an unspoken bargain with Jak; they ignored him as long as he remained silent about his clients, some of whom headed corporations owned by the Majdas. He never got busted because his clientele ran the city.
I’d never heard of any Majda at the Black Mark. For that matter, I’d never dug up any dirt in their dealings. Nor did the married ones screw around. The women could, given the way they cloistered their men, but as far as I’d seen, they didn’t stray. Sure, the ancient laws required fidelity for members of the royalty and aristocracy, to ensure their heirs were genuine. Hell, those l
aws required men be virgins on their wedding night. I mean, seriously? If they followed those ancient laws nowadays, none of them could get married. But the Majdas stayed legal. It wasn’t their conservatism compared to everyone else in the universe, but hardheaded common sense. They couldn’t be blackmailed.
“Is your sister on Raylicon?” I already knew the General was here, making plans for some financial coup that was going to screw with my assets, but I had to pretend otherwise.
“She’s visiting.” Lavinda seemed preoccupied.
“We need to warn her.”
Lavinda’s face took on that distant I’m-accessing-my-node look. “I sent a message.” She focused on me. “You mentioned Exec Tallmount yesterday. Have you found out anything?”
Hah! An opening. “I did talk to Tallmount. I don’t think she harbors any ill will toward anyone.” Wryly I added, “Except maybe holo-reporters. She regrets talking about your family.”
Lavinda snorted. “Yes, well, maybe it’s healthy for Vaj to hear a little criticism.”
So Lavinda got a kick out of seeing her powerful sister called to task. She didn’t sound resentful of Vaj, though. Lavinda liked her sister, loved her even. I couldn’t imagine anyone feeling affection toward the imposing General, but then, what did I know. I was in love with a man the Majda police referred to as an Undercity kingpin when they were being polite.
All I said was, “Tallmount told me she was taking extra care at the gala with what she said around that reporter from the city network.”
“You mean Sav Halin?” Lavinda waved her hand. “She’s all right.”
“You know her? I don’t recall seeing her at the party.” Which was true. I hadn’t known anything about Halin until after she tried to murder me.
“She’s come to the palace a few times to interview us.”
I liked this less and less. You didn’t get an invitation to visit the palace unless you worked closely with the Majdas.
Bhaaj, Max thought. We’re being followed.
Of course we are. I tried to avoid that I’m-talking-to-my-EI look.
I’m not talking about Colonel Majda’s bodyguard. The person following us is shrouded. I think it’s the same woman who tailed you before.
Well, shit. I glanced at Lavinda. “General Majda isn’t the only one who should take extra care with her security. Have you had any problems?”
“Not at all.” She wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Should I?”
“I don’t know.” Her reaction puzzled me. She was holding back something. “You’re not a member of the Desert Winds, and that seems to be the only link between the people who vanished. But since your sister might be at risk, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to be careful, too.”
“I will.” She nodded to me. “And thank you, Major.”
We parted at a grove of trees where several women in her retinue were waiting, as well as her supposed aide, Jo Muller, who looked as large and intimidating today as she had at the gala.
I headed toward the VA building where I’d met with Adept Sanva two days ago. Is our shadow following me or Lavinda? I asked Max.
You. Shall I activate your shroud?
Wait until I get behind that group of trees up ahead. The path I was following curved around a cluster of trees rich with green vines.
When I reached the cluster, Max thought, Shroud activated.
Good. I turned in a new direction, one I hoped the shadow wouldn’t predict, and walked across the lawn, which was of course forbidden. As long as I didn’t do it for long, the city monitors might not register a blur moving over the grass. Within a few moments I reached another bluestone path. I followed it, headed toward Commodore’s Plaza.
Time to visit Adept Sanva again.
Sanva was watering the plants in her spacious office when I entered. She smiled at me. “My greetings, Major. Did we have an appointment today?”
“Sorry, no.” I gave her one of my Cries smiles, the kind I’d learned to use when I wanted to convey friendly intent to people who weren’t from the Undercity. “I was wondering if you could help with an investigation.”
She motioned to a chair with white upholstery bordered by flowers. Copious sunlight slanted through the many windows, and leafy plants softened the decor. It all felt pleasant and airy, designed to make patients feel at home, except it wasn’t like home, it was all imported. Nothing in this room came from Raylicon except me.
“What can I do for you?” Sanva asked. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought she enjoyed seeing me. Actually, I didn’t know better. I just didn’t see any reason for her to like having me show up at her office without warning.
I sat in the chair as she settled behind her desk. “I wanted to ask you about the neurological basis for Kyle operators.” The words felt clumsy on my tongue. In the Undercity, we said empaths, or even just feelers. Kyle operator sounded pretentious to me.
“Certainly,” she said. “Anything in particular?”
I thought of the moment in the tunnels when I’d grabbed Angel and Daan. “Can you sense the presence of another person without knowing it?”
“Maybe.” She tapped her desk and the holo of a brain formed above it. The image of a wave formed around it, the same shape as the brain but trailing off outside of it. “Your brain produces waves. Electromagnetic signals.”
“The signals are weak, though, right? You have to be close to someone for your brain waves to interact with theirs.”
“That’s right.” As she traced her finger across her desk, the holo faded. “Kyle operators have tiny organs in their brains called the Kyle Afferent Body and the Kyle Efferent Body. KAB and KEB. You also have specialized neural structures called paras. The KAB picks up electrical signals from the brains of other people and sends them to the paras using a neurotransmitter called psiamine. The paras interpret the signals. The KEB does the reverse, sending signals from your brain to other people. In most people the Kyle organs are either underdeveloped or nonexistent. In Kyle operators, people we call psions, the organs have more development.”
I squinted at her. “A doctor who treated me last year told me she found traces of psiamine in my brain.”
“I saw that in your files. It means your brain is using its Kyle organs.”
“What about the noble Houses?” I asked. “They’re all supposed to be psions.” It was why they were adamant about marriages taking place only among the nobility, to strengthen the Kyle traits.
“That’s what they claim.” Sanva shrugged. “They aren’t. They do have a higher incidence in their gene pool, however.” She paused. “The highest rates of Kyle ability are among your people.”
So she knew about the Undercity. I supposed it made sense. She was the adept the army had sent me to, after all. “I’m surprised the traits are so rare.”
“It’s genetic.” Sanva relaxed back in her chair. “The abilities are due to a series of mutations associated with recessive alleles.”
I tried to remember my biology class from university. “So a person isn’t a psion unless they get the DNA from both parents?”
“That’s right. Unfortunately, the genes also involve negative mutations, some of which are fatal.”
That figured. “All this Kyle business seems more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Some people feel that way.” She nodded as if confirming it to herself. “The traits probably persist in human gene pools because an ability to empathize with their children can make people good parents. It gives their offspring more chance of surviving.”
I hesitated. “Do you know my Kyle rating?”
“My guess is that you’re in the medium range for an empath. It’s hard to say because you’ve suppressed the ability.”
“I don’t like it.” To put it mildly.
She leaned forward. “Major, it doesn’t have to be a curse. Empaths can learn to block emotions from other people. You already do that without realizing it. Your records describe you as a mental fortress.”
Damn straight. Another thought came to me. “Wouldn’t being a psion increase your ability to protect your tribe in primitive societies? You’d know if the enemy was sneaking up or planning an ambush.”
“Yes, it could work that way.”
“Could I sense that someone was about to attack me?”
She considered the thought. “During your military service, you showed a remarkable situational awareness. It’s one reason you survived. One of your COs described it as preternatural.”
I shifted in my chair. “What about other people? If I sense them, do they sense me?”
“Possibly, if they’re psions.” Dryly she added, “You’re so protective of yourself, with so many mental barriers, no one is likely to pick up anything from you.”
Relief washed over me. “Good.”
She scowled. “It isn’t good. You’ve walled yourself into an emotional prison.”
I couldn’t go there, not now. I stood up. “Thank you for your time, Adept Sanva.”
She stood as well. “Major, your abilities really can enhance your life.”
“I just need time to—” To what? I wasn’t sure myself. “To adjust.”
“Are you doing the exercises I gave you?”
I squinted at her. “Uh. Um.”
Sanva smiled. “Does that have a translation?”
“It’s just—I mean, I’ve tried a few times, the meditation thing, clearing my mind, relaxing. Nothing happens. I just fall asleep.”
“Don’t give up,” she said. “The idea is to help your brain create new neurological pathways. That can happen even if you fall asleep.”
“All right.” I’d rather have stopped, but I’d initiated all this, so apparently I wanted to know myself better than I was willing to admit. Maybe my abilities had helped keep me alive. Many people I’d known in the aqueducts or army were dead now, yet I had defied the odds.
I intended it to stay that way.
After I left Doctor Sanva’s office, Max thought, Lukas Quida would like to talk to you. He says he found something.
The Vanished Seas (Major Bhaajan series Book 3) Page 16