Broken Vision

by J. A. Clarke

  But the Lady Melia's sophisticated nav instruments gave no warning of other vessels in her proximity. The complete lack of traffic in itself was beginning to give her cause for concern when a large cargo vessel headed in the other direction blipped onto the edge of the chart.

  The boy--Nonon, he said his name was--watched her every move with those disconcertingly unfocused eyes. He didn't chatter, for which she was grateful, didn't even seem curious about where they were headed. That brief moment of objection earlier seemed to have given way to a heart-breaking sort of resignation over a future adults not of his kind had decided for him.

  Ochmantin was in sight, but still a distance away, when she turned on the open comm channel. Two vessels were visible on her nav chart, small craft, planet drifters most likely. There was some intermittent chatter wafting across the channel and then, suddenly, clearly, "Light winds at the surface. Light winds at the surface. Clear for landing. Clear for landing."

  Without a nanonan's hesitation, her fingers tapped in course corrections that turned the Lady Melia away from Ochmantin. Heart pounding, focus sharpened by the adrenalin rush through her blood, she studied the nav charts again. One of the drifters had begun a descent to the planet. The other had vanished. There was nothing else. No sign at all that a trap had been set. And just for a moment she doubted herself. But the transmission was a warning. With each mission, with each approach to this place where she discharged her precious cargo, she had anticipated hearing it. Now she had. She couldn't afford to question it.

  She was far from Ochmantin. The beat of her heart had slowed and the sweaty dampness had cooled on her skin, when she realized what she had to do. She glanced at the child. He sat alert and calm beside her, and still watched her every move with those strange eyes.

  She had never liked the contingency plan, had hoped to never use it. Now she had no choice. Their route had been compromised. All communication had gone silent. Until a new plan could be formed, Morgon's hidden habitat was the only answer.

  She set a course for Pallas Four.

  The starfighters came out of nowhere and caught her on her descent to the smart dock.

  * * * *

  Alerik came awake suddenly, wrenched from a deep sleep by a persistent noise. Disoriented, he stumbled from bed, trying to fight off unusually stubborn dregs of unconsciousness.

  "Yes?" he snapped at the flashing light on the console beside the sleeping platform.

  "It's Sharm. I'm outside your front door."

  Blood of Cor! Outside, the moon-sun painted Pallas Four in shades of gray. Grogon's two suns wouldn't make an appearance for a while yet. Nothing good had brought his second all the way to his door from Pallas Five.

  "Be right there," he croaked. What was wrong with him? He felt like he'd been clobbered hard with a samclub or... Drugged. He tugged on some loose pants. "Lumens."

  It had to be something to do with Maegan. Dread rose fierce and hot within him as he paused outside her door. At least she was safe and sleeping. He had checked on her after returning to the habitat. Been tempted, in fact, to climb into bed with her as she lay, blonde hair unbound and shimmering across her pillow, her face smoothed into soft innocence by sleep. Instead he had set tiny shrieker devices at all the exits to the habitat as well as to her room. If she'd tried to go anywhere, he and the security team posted around the habitat would have known about it.

  He disarmed the shrieker at the front door and released the lock. As soon as the door was open, Sharm strode past him with barely a glance. Not good.

  "Took you long enough," he mumbled. "Have you been popping outers again?"

  "Of course not. Why would you think that?" It was strange how everything inside of him had converged into an intent sort of waiting watchfulness. No doubt about it. Sharm had bad news to deliver. He was pacing, his gaze everywhere but on Alerik.

  Alerik braced his legs and folded his arms. Leadership had taught him patience but, when it came to Maegan, patience was extremely tough to summon.

  "I was standing out there, leaning on the comm for nans before you responded, that's why." Sharm stopped in mid pace, pivoted and strode straight for Alerik. "Huh," he grunted as he stared into Alerik's eyes. "She drugged you. Wonder what she used that you weren't aware of it."

  "What are you...? Balls of Sortor!" The waiting calm inside him shattered to let out a host of demons. Some hurled gleeful taunts. Others shrieked with terror. He was down the hall and at Maegan's door before he knew it. He barely remembered to disarm the shrieker. Ignoring Sharm's snort behind him, he slammed his hand on the door release, already knowing what he was about to find.

  The room was empty.

  "Where is she?" he asked with absolute calm, even as the demons inside of him went crazy.

  "We have her in custody."

  "How?"

  Sharm let out a gusty breath. "Let's go sit down, Alerik."

  Without moving, he said through gritted teeth, "Is she all right?"

  "She's fine."

  The demons receded, to lurk in the shadows of his head and heart. He followed Sharm back down the hall to the great room, his mind doing a crazy dance with conjecture and theory.

  Sharm didn't dissemble. As soon as Alerik sat down, he said, "We caught her on her descent to Pallas Four. We have her space vessel, Alerik. We think it's the same one that evaded us before. And she had passengers on board."

  An ugly specter materialized in Alerik's head. He crushed it immediately. Whatever Maegan was up to, she could never be involved in the flesh trade. "What kind of passengers?"

  "Children. Taragon children." Sharm had not sat down. He stood relaxed but watchful to one side.

  "Blood of Cor!" Alerik leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut for a nan. He forced himself to take some deep breaths. She was involved in the flesh business. Yet he knew with unshakeable certainty it was not for profit. "That untraceable transmission that was sent to at least three elders on the Coalition Council was true then."

  "Perhaps. Maybe so," Sharm agreed. "Here's something else. The patrol in the eighth sector came close to catching another vessel near Achien."

  "What does that have to do with Maegan?"

  "She's not working alone, Alerik. She couldn't make the entire trip from Taragon herself."

  Alerik nodded. "A network--of course. And how deeply is Morgon involved, I wonder?"

  "The uncle? That's a leap."

  "Not at all. She's using his habitat and vessel. He's the brains behind some very sophisticated technology. One thing I do know is I'll tear this habitat apart panel by panel if I have to, in order to find how she gets out without triggering any alarms. Has she said anything yet?"

  "No. We have her in a cell in the security hall."

  A great calm took hold of him then, and a conviction that from this, whatever this turned out to be, they could make a beginning. At least she was safe.

  "Best place for her. Make sure she gets some proper food. No nutro tablets. And sleep. Give her an inducer if you have to. Where are the children?"

  "I enlisted the help of Counselor Tipon and his wife. They agreed to care for them in the short term. They're Soron and they'll be discreet. This has the makings of a very ugly political incident."

  Alerik nodded. So many obstacles. So many complications. So many nuances and challenges. Amazing he didn't feel more concern. A huge yawn took him by surprise.

  "I'll want to inspect that vessel Maegan was using."

  He rose to his feet and hitched up his pants. The demons had gone silent. His mind was quiet. His body demanded rest.

  "See what tricks Morgon is using. Maybe we can adapt some of them to our patrol vessels." He yawned again. "Sorry, have to go get more sleep. Can't seem to keep awake."

  He started off down the hall.

  "What about Maegan?" Sharm called after him.

  "What about her? She's where she should be. Don't let anyone near her. I'll interrogate her myself when I'm ready."

  * * * *
<
br />   Maegan rested her hand on the comm panel and left it there. They couldn't keep ignoring her. She had rights. Someone had to talk to her. She just hoped that someone wasn't the governor of Grogon.

  Without warning, the thick plexiwall in front of her changed from opaque to clear. A tall, slender man with the face of a god, dressed in the dark gray of a commander's uniform, stood on the other side. She recognized him instantly.

  "Commander Foster!"

  "Counselor Shale," he acknowledged, his voice cool, his face expressionless. "You've been causing quite a disturbance."

  She'd had Sharm Foster for one rotation at the academy. He'd been one of her favorite instructors and was certainly a man for whom she'd built up a great deal of respect. For the first time since she'd been caught and incarcerated, a twinge of nervousness began to expand inside of her. She wished she were facing anyone but him, with the exception of course of Alerik. She had no choice but to brazen it out.

  "Post Conflict Treaty codes say I have a right to talk with representation. What have I been charged with anyway? No one's told me anything. No one's been near me since I was placed here, without being charged I might add."

  With the exception of an eyebrow that had hitched higher on his face, Commander Foster's expression didn't change. "Oh, believe me, there are a host of charges against you. It's going to take a while for any legal representative to sort through them. We'll give you access in good time, after you've eaten." He inclined his head at a packaged meal that had been delivered through the pressure tube, and which she had ignored. "And after you've had some rest. How long have you gone without sleep?"

  "It doesn't matter," she snapped, suddenly irritated and uncaring. This man worked for Alerik, it was clear. "I want to see someone now!"

  "No." He moved a step closer. "Until you do what we want, you don't get what you want."

  Exhaustion was getting the better of her patience. "He knows I'm here, doesn't he? All right, I want to see him."

  That wasn't true, but she had others to think of beside herself.

  Her tone had caused Commander Foster's other eyebrow to join the first. Clearly disapproving, he said, "He'll see you when he's ready and not before. Eat and get some sleep, Maegan. Then we'll begin a dialog."

  The wall began to turn opaque. "Wait," she screamed. "Where are the children?"

  Sharm Foster turned and began to walk away. "Safe."

  "You can't send them back to Taragon." Panic was clawing through the exhaustion, the fear, the anger.

  He did pause at that and turned his head. "They belong with their parents."

  "No! No, their parents don't want them. You can't send them back. Please," she pleaded with every atom of her soul.

  The man lacked a heart. He shook his head and began to move away again. "That's not your decision to make."

  The wall was solid again. She couldn't see him. "I demand to see Governor Mariltar," she cried.

  "Eat. Get some sleep," came the answer.

  She had never felt so ineffective and helpless in this blank world in which they had placed her without the means to communicate. They had relieved her of everything but her clothes. They'd even taken her boots. Her head pounded. Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, her body tense and aching. Hunger prowled through her stomach. She ignored it all.

  Somehow she had to convince them the children couldn't go back to Taragon.

  She pressed her hand over the comm again.

  Chapter 11

  Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising

  Pallas Five

  In Sharm Foster's office, Alerik winced as the comm began its muted buzz again.

  "Stubborn," Sharm observed as he walked in the door.

  "That's putting it kindly."

  "All that remains to be seen is which of the two most stubborn people in the galaxy will win this skirmish."

  Alerik snorted as Sharm dropped into his chair and reached to turn down the noise of the comm. "What skirmish? I have the advantage of time. She's desperate to learn the fate of the children. She'll yield sooner rather than later."

  Sharm snickered. He leaned back and propped his booted feet on the console. "Perhaps, if it weren't for an interesting phenomenon I've observed recently."

  Alerik didn't particularly want enlightenment on any of his second's observations. Especially if they concerned Maegan. But he wasn't likely to get a choice either.

  Sharm linked his hands behind his head and spoke to the ceiling. "Yes, indeed. Interesting phe-nom-e-non all right." He snickered again.

  "Well, then." Alerik rose abruptly to his feet. He could no longer hear the buzz of the comm. "I'll leave you here to contemplate your interesting phenomenon. Fill me in another time. I have to prepare for an arbitration session."

  "We'll be debriefing the Soron from Janas Corporation shortly," Sharm told him with a grin. "Shall I inform him his esteemed leader is in a holding cell, buried so far under an avalanche of charges, it's going to be rotations before she can direct the corporation again?"

  "Of course not," Alerik snapped, fully aware Sharm was toying with him, but irritated nonetheless. His words came uncomfortably close to the current reality of the situation. "As far as they, and anyone else, are concerned she's been called to other duties temporarily. She's my wife. I'm the governor. That won't be so hard to believe."

  "Depends on how well they know Maegan," Sharm told the ceiling, that infernal smirk still stamped on his face.

  There was a reason for Sharm's baiting, but Alerik had neither the time nor the patience to have it out with him. He stepped out the back door of Sharm's office into the corridor. For a nanonan, he considered turning to the left and Maegan's cell, only steps away, driven by a compelling need to see for himself that she was all right.

  He forced himself to turn in the other direction. He was due in arbitration chambers in nans.

  Arbitration, the legal resolution to the vast majority of disputes and infractions. The charges against Maegan would not be settled by arbitration in a regional jurisdiction. The charges, brought by her own husband, would take her before the Coalition Council of Nine Nations itself. Maegan had violated the basic tenets of the post-war peace Treaty.

  That realization had descended on him with the crushing force of a samlwind after he had woken up, free of the effects of whatever it was she had used to drug him, and read Sharm's report. She had been caught red-handed. Six pieces of evidence were in a safe house on Pallas Three. His duty was to uphold the law. For the first time in his life, he wanted to deny his responsibilities.

  And then where would Maegan be?

  Arbitration council was quickly finished with. Two petty cases that should never have reached him, and about which he resolved to speak to the referring counselor, and one more serious property dispute.

  He dealt with a few other pieces of pressing business, then strode back to the security hall. A grim-faced Sharm was observing an interrogation.

  Alerik joined him in front of the plexiwall barrier dividing the two rooms. "The Bogasill from Janas Corporation?" he asked. "You're still working on him?"

  "I swear I'm ready to incarcerate the entire company. They're troublemakers. This youngster had way too much fun messing with our communications team. Took us two hanans to figure out he was feeding us utter nonsense."

  "Who are the other interrogators?"

  "Saroch recommended them. Experts from Wiretech Corporation, a Janas client. Since they've worked with the newer technology, we thought they might be of assistance in sorting out truth from exaggeration and pure batgoo."

  Maegan's influence? Had to be. Irritation snaked through him, even as his thoughts tried to linger on how she was doing. In the interrogation room, the young Bogasill sketched a three dimensional diagram on the holovid with a laser pointer. The Wiretech experts and the two members of his own communications team appeared relaxed. Heads were nodding.

  "Is he cooperating now?"

  "Appears to be. We're not asking him to
reveal patented technology secrets. We just want to understand where our security technology is weak."

  One of the men on his team looked in their direction and raised a brow. Sharm touched a control, which instantly converted the plexiwall to two-way visibility, and knocked hard on the barrier. The young Bogasill jerked around. His gaze focused on Alerik. His eyes widened and his already pale ivory skin noticeably lightened a shade. He turned quickly back to the holovid and adjusted something.

  "What was that about?"

  "A persuasive technique I use when he isn't cooperating."

  "Huh! Anything to do with children and monsters?"

  "Sort of."

  "And I'm the monster?"

  "Worked, didn't it? You're timing is impeccable, by the way."

  "I feel sorry for your future children. Just hope this doesn't show up on my docket as a torture charge. You're on your own. I'm going to check on Maegan."

  "Alerik!" Sharm's sharp tone stopped him as he turned. The expression on his second's face was tense and serious. "We cannot hold those children much longer without notifying the authorities on Taragon."

  "I'm aware of that. Give me some time with her."

  "For the record, I don't think you should be conducting her interrogation."

  About to turn away again, Alerik paused. The fact that Sharm was right just aggravated the present volatility of his emotions, but no one--no one--else was going to do this. Tension arced in the air between them.

  "Noted," he bit out. He forced himself to unclench his hands. "The entire session will be on record. You're welcome, of course, to observe."

  "I'll do that." Sharm wasn't budging. He had Alerik's back again but, for once, Alerik couldn't find it in himself to appreciate it.

  As he strode down the corridor to Maegan's cell, his thoughts roiled around how he was going to get her out of this mess. There were several solutions. None were legal. All would be at the expense of his own career and everything he had worked a lifetime to achieve.