Andromeda's Rebel

by Debra Jess

  Tamarja had wondered what else Yohzad reported on besides paroled Manitac prisoners. Writing routine reports seemed like such a small role for a man like Yohzad. "That must keep you busy. AuRaKaz has so many projects underway."

  "Politics still fly fast and thick even this far out, but I can't say I don't enjoy my work." He paused, giving Tamarja a chance to eat. "Speaking of projects, what do you think of Dawn's Landing so far?"

  Tamarja swallowed a mouthful of fried noodles. "Well, it's certainly growing. Looking over the flight charts, the facilities I'm most likely to visit are quite distant from one another. You would think the director would keep more facilities centrally located if she's not going to install compressor units. I won't lack for flight time, though, if the director is as hands-on as you say she is."

  Yohzad nodded, pacing. Tamarja looked back down at her food, so she wouldn't appear to be staring.

  "Have you noticed…" Yohzad stopped pacing, shoving his hands into his pocket while leaning back on his heels, carefully measuring his next words. "…anything unusual?"

  Unusual? Like flashing lights in the mountains or missing ‘pets? Things she really shouldn't know anything about. "I don't think I've been planetside long enough to know what's usual, much less unusual. Are you looking for something specific?"

  Yohzad shook his head and resumed pacing, but kept his hands in his pockets. "No, nothing specific. I'm just trying to get an unbiased review of the colony."

  Tamarja wiped her mouth. He was digging for something, but she had nothing to give. Nothing specific, nothing she was sure about. On Bregarlos, she had learned that "nothing" was never an acceptable answer when asked a question, whether about her classes, her instructors, or her fellow students. Having no information was often worse than having only partial information.

  She took a deep breath. "I did have an encounter with Black Wave."

  That got Yohzad's attention. "Really? What sort of encounter?"

  For a moment, she wavered between what actually happened and what Daeven would put on her report. She didn't want to get Daeven into trouble, but she needed Yohzad as her ally. The two of them knew each other, even if they weren't exactly friends. Manitac hears everything, sees everything. Or did they? Would Daeven tell Yohzad the truth? "One of the kids offered me some powder to sweeten a drink I wasn't enjoying. I didn’t know it was harmful, so I thought about accepting, but we were interrupted. Somehow security found out that he had Black Wave in his possession. Last I heard they were trying to find his dealer."

  "Yes, I know."

  A lump formed in Tamarja's throat. "You do?"

  "The dealer was transported on the first shuttle to Jarvis this morning. I was to have escorted him to a holding cell, but he overdosed on his own product before he reached the station."

  Tamarja choked. Manitac hears everything, sees everything, and she had just lied to her parole officer. Yohzad stared directly into her eyes, a frown marring his handsome features.

  "I'm glad you told me about your encounter with Black Wave, Chase. These are the things you have to tell me about. Otherwise, I can't help you." He bounced up and down on his toes, his smile returning as suddenly as it had disappeared.

  "As for noticing anything unusual, use your best judgment. I know you're at a handicap, what with the mind-wipe and having just arrived. All I ask is you keep your eyes and ears open. Anything you believe threatens Manitac or its security here on Dawn's Landing, tell me." He paused again. "In fact, you need to tell me before you tell anyone else—this includes the director. Understand?"

  The food in Tamarja's stomach flip-flopped so violently it was all she could do to nod and hope her face remained as bland and controlled as Daeven's.

  Her effort must have been good enough, because Yohzad gave her a half salute and headed for the door. As soon as it reformed behind him, Tamarja scrubbed her face. Manitac hears everything, sees everything. Yet Daeven hadn't told Yohzad about her ingesting Black Wave powder, about spending the night in a drug-induced haze. He'd protected her.

  Now Yohzad wanted her to become a snitch, reporting on her coworkers, on her friends if she made any besides Jita. Yohzad had given her this second chance, but was snitching a condition of that chance? Or was he as trapped as she was, a prisoner of a much larger system, trying to navigate the corridors as best he could? She'd like to think the latter.

  The next time he asks, I'll need to have something to give him. Something he doesn't know anything about.

  Her ear jack chimed. Startled, Tamarja automatically opened the channel. Ramsey.

  "You are to report for duty immediately. Some of the trade delegates have arrived early. We're unclear as to how many more may be following."

  Tamarja felt her body churning with energy. All her doubts and insecurities slipped away like rain off skin. "I'm ready. Heading to the shuttle right now."

  Ramsey shut down the channel without replying. Her troubles with Yohzad and Daeven would have to wait. She had a job to do. Gulping down the rest of her lunch, she grabbed her satchel, dissolved the door, and ran for the compressor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Welcome to Dawn's Landing. Let me show you to your seat."

  Tamarja smiled automatically, letting the hostess assigned to the director's shuttle do her job of seating the next batch of passengers and seeing to their comfort. Not for the first time, she wished Jita had been the assigned hostess. Not that Nagrit was anything but friendly, but Jita would have had the foresight to see to Tamarja's needs as well as those of the passengers.

  She desperately needed some comfort right now.

  The early arrival of the delegates had heartened Tamarja at first, the steady stream of arrivals and departures giving structure to her days. She had a job to do, and she took joy in her ability to do it well. As if to compensate for the missteps she'd made upon her arrival on Dawn's Landing, fate had given her this second chance to show she could obey orders and complete her mission without instigating disorder.

  Initially, Tamarja had remained on standby while the regular shuttle service handled the low-level delegates who had arrived early. Once the higher-level delegates began to arrive, she was dispatched to the port to greet them. Thankfully, Ramsey had assigned a hostess to the shuttle, so Tamarja's less-than-smooth social skills weren't required.

  Her days were long, but her nights were short. Ignoring her dream lover while working was easy, but she couldn't banish him once her eyes closed at night. She would dream of the ‘pet, blank-eyed, bruised, and bald, making love to her. Despite her disgust her self-control disappeared in her dreams, and she would respond to him with all the passion she had to give, frustrated that he continued to look at her with the emptiness of an automaton. She would wake panting, sweaty, and wanting more.

  Only when she flew could she forget her dreams.

  "They're all seated." Nagrit approached Tamarja, who still stood at the entrance.

  Tamarja pulled her tired thoughts back to the present. "Thanks. I'll have us back at Facility Prime in no time."

  Nagrit gave her a wan smile. It had been a long day for both of them. "No rush. If they're like the last batch, we'll have to pry them out of the seats before they'll disembark. Might as well let them play with the director's toys while we're ahead of schedule."

  Tamarja dissolved the doors to the cockpit and seated herself. "Traffic, this is DL Flight Eight. Waiting for clearance."

  Once cleared, Tamarja soared into the sky. Gently banking toward Facility Prime, she waited until the shuttle leveled before releasing the clamps that kept the passengers' seats in place. She felt the slight rumble of seats traveling along their tracks to reconfigure their locations. Fun indeed.

  "DL Flight Eight, this is Traffic."

  Odd. They weren't even halfway to Facility Prime.

  "This is DL Flight Eight."

  "There's a delay in clearance for DL Flight Six and Twelve. Stay on course until entering Facility Prime airspace, then establish a holding patte
rn until we can clear the roof."

  "Acknowledged. What seems to be the problem?"

  There was no return acknowledgement. It could be anything. Perhaps a passenger had gotten sick on the flight, or there could be a mechanical problem with one of the shuttles.

  An outer comm channel signaled her through the ear jack. Ramsey.

  "Chase, we have a problem."

  "I've heard. Something's caused a delay in clearance to the roof. I've been instructed to establish a holding pattern."

  "I'm countermanding that order. There's a security breach. Take the delegates somewhere else, anywhere not in Facility Prime airspace."

  Ramsey shut down the signal. Tamarja signaled Nagrit.

  "Yes, Captain?"

  Would she ever get used to being called that? "We have a delay of undetermined length. Sorry, but you're going to have to keep them entertained for a while longer. I'm going to head east toward the ocean. Keep the comm channel open so you can cue me where to fly."

  Nagrit's only response was a quiet groan.

  Daeven stood over the small woman wearing the muted reddish-brown colors of a delegate from one of the mid-core planets. Her boney features and rugged clothes fit the profile of someone who had grown up on a mountainous planet, with low oxygen and little technology. She lay sprawled on the rough, stained surface of Facility Prime's rooftop.

  Once Serriga had checked her for weapons and found none, Daeven hauled the woman to her feet, giving her a shake to provide a good show. Keeping his body between the delegate, Serriga, and the security cam, he slipped a small, flexible packet into the suspect's left pocket.

  The woman didn't even acknowledge him, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun slowly set, the corona just touching the top of the mountains. For a moment, Daeven wondered if she had regrets, but her features betrayed nothing.

  "Let's go!" Serriga signaled that safe passage had been established through the corridors of Facility Prime. Daeven pushed the woman forward, forcing her into the secure custody of another team of guards. She stumbled a bit but righted herself, her face never changing expression.

  Daeven's gut tightened. He would stay on the roof, securing the location until he received word the delegate had reached Security Central. This was going to be a very long night.

  Following the path she and Daeven had started during her private tour, Tamarja skirted around Facility Prime airspace. She had to struggle to keep the shuttle's pace slow and smooth while she monitored Nagrit's spiel on one comm channel and Traffic on the other. Even if Traffic approved her return, she wasn't going anywhere until she had cleared it with Ramsey. She also kept half an eye on the map delineating Dawn's Landing's boundaries. Last thing she needed was to activate her collar by crossing the border because some delegates requested a more adventurous sightseeing tour.

  "We've hit all the facilities east of Facility Prime. Still no clearance for return," Tamarja whispered into the comm. Nagrit continued to talk about the oceanic research station they hovered above.

  "Next, we're going to head to one of our more prosperous habitats."

  Floating away from the ocean, Tamarja checked the map again. Sixteen was closer, but that was one of the cookie-cutter habitats designed for employees with no family obligations. Twenty-Two was farther but had more activity. Hopefully with no drowning teenagers this time.

  "Heading for Twenty-Two." Nagrit chimed her ear jack to acknowledge.

  The canyon yawned open—a welcoming sight. With the shields up, the wind didn't shove the shuttle around, and Tamarja could actually take the time to appreciate the wildness of the place. She lowered the shuttle closer to the blue-green water, allowing the visitors to view the white rapids zigzagging between moss-covered ivory limestone jutting out from the tress displaying burnt-orange leaves, which lined the river.

  Rising to the canyon's rim, she headed for the swimming hole that had started her own adventure here. There were plenty of swimmers to give the delegates something to look at.

  "And this is where our own pilot, Captain Chase, assisted security in rescuing a young boy from trying to jump over the barrier from that rock ledge…"

  Tamarja heard increased chatter from the delegates and someone asking for more details about the rescue. It would be unlikely the delegates would forget that part of the tour before they landed.

  She floated the shuttle over the rim, intending to head for the Telori homestead. They didn't seem like the types who would mind one brief flyover.

  Before she could hit the accelerators, she saw it—a bright flash from higher up the mountain. She hesitated, and then it flashed again. Marking the coordinates, she double-checked them against her previous entry. Same coordinates—exactly the same.

  "Nagrit, could you please come into the cockpit?"

  Nagrit finished whatever she was saying and excused herself.

  Tamarja didn't even look over her shoulder as Nagrit entered, not wanting to rely solely on her maps to locate the source of the flash. "What's wrong? Please tell me we're heading back. I'm running out of adjectives."

  "Look at this area and tell me if you see anything."

  Nagrit adjusted her ear jack to stream the head-up display, waiting patiently, watching with tired eyes the region Tamarja had marked on her maps. Nothing happened. "What am I looking for?"

  Tamarja shook her head. "I thought I saw a flash of light. I'd seen it before, when I rescued the boy and I just saw it again."

  They waited a little bit longer. Still nothing. "I'm sorry," Nagrit apologized. "I really should return to the delegates. They're bored enough as it is but too polite to complain."

  Tamarja nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

  Nagrit squeezed Tamarja's shoulder before heading back. No sooner had the cockpit doors rematerialized than Ramsey commed her again.

  "You have clearance to return to Facility Prime, Flight Eight. I’ll alert Traffic myself.“

  "Acknowledged." Tamarja relayed the message to Nagrit before flying out of the canyon.

  By the time Tamarja lowered the shuttle on the roof, twilight had turned to night. The comforting sound of tethers connecting to the underside of the shuttle signaled the end of a very long but oddly satisfying day. Tamarja unfastened her restraints, waiting for a huge yawn to pass before she dissolved the cockpit door and joined Nagrit in bidding the delegates good night.

  Instead of Nagrit, Daeven and a contingent of security officers occupied the aisles, keeping the guests pinned to their seats.

  "Guests of AuRaKaz. We apologize for the delay." Daeven's voice boomed, radiating enough power to halt the speculative whisper among the guests. "If you will follow my colleagues, we'll see you settled in your quarters. Your luggage will be delivered to you shortly. In the meantime, the director extends her welcome and asks that you join her for dinner this evening."

  More excited whispering broke out as the delegates stood and collected their personal belongings.

  Still standing in the cockpit doorway, Tamarja could only see Daeven from behind. The shuttle had carried a full complement this trip, so there was little room to move as the delegates filed out, escorted by the officers. Nagrit attempted to direct the delegates as they disembarked, but their excited chatter drowned her out.

  As Nagrit assisted the last delegate onto the ramp, Tamarja blocked Daeven before he too could leave. "What happened? Why the delay?"

  Whatever gains she had made in establishing a more civil relationship during the Telori party died under his harsh stare. Despite the glare, the attraction was still there. She wanted to understand how she could anger him so much and still want to crush his lips with her own. Instead, she waited for a response.

  His mouth tightened, and he clasped his hands behind his back, never releasing their grip. It was as if his care for her several nights ago had never happened. Maybe trapping him on board the shuttle wasn't such a good idea.

  "I see your ability to attract trouble hasn't change
d," he growled.

  "Hey, this isn't my fault," she snapped back. "I don't even know what happened. That's why I want to talk to you. Why the delay? Was maintenance evac'd? Is Dace all right?"

  His eyes softened at her question. "He's fine, but I can't talk about it right now. Leave the roof, Tamarja. Go home. Rest. Forget this happened."

  Another guard boarded to call for Daeven's attention. Dismissing Tamarja, Daeven pushed past without giving her another glance. Tamarja waited a beat, anger building, before stomping down the ramp and kicking the controls that raised it. Ignoring the guard at the exit, she scanned the rooftop, looking for Dace.

  Floodlights flicked on, bathing the shuttle in harsh light. In the shadows, she saw several maintenance workers emerge from the hangar, their movements slow and tentative. She walked over, spotting Dace's bulky frame before she got close.

  "Do you know what happened?"

  "Not me." Dace rubbed grimy hands on his uniform, adding to the black splotches barely visible in the dark. "Just before the passengers disembarked from Flight Six, a team of security stormed the roof. They backed us into the hangar and tossed up a shield. Guess they were expecting a fight. Wouldn't even let us touch the shuttle before flying it back to port. I think they forgot about us because I had to break the shield to get us out. What have you heard?"

  Tamarja blinked. "Nothing. Traffic isn't talking, and Ramsey won't respond. How did you break a security shield?"

  Dace's teeth flared in his wide grin. "They're Manitac shields. A two-year-old could break through one of them."

  "A two-year-old with a hangar full of cutters, bracers, and a few jacks." Tamarja smiled back and leaned against the edge of a workstation.

  Now what? She was tired, but really not in the mood for her nightly visit from her dream ‘pet. She still had no answers. Did she need them? Did she really want to know what had happened here tonight?