The grin froze on his face when he realized that hands were grabbing him and propelling him toward the front of the gathering where Grandfather was sitting. Oh Life, he’s not going to make a bigger fuss about this, is he? He was. The old, old man, the ancient patriarch of the Farsvar family, waited for him with a disturbing twinkle in his eye. He seemed more alive and more animated than Tad had seen him in years. Even the half-G he was sitting in instead of his usual free fall did not seem to be troubling him. The whole family and a great many relations from the sept had all met for a grand celebration in one of the finest eating establishments in Panmunaptra. It was located on a terrace overlooking one of the four grand parks in the asteroid. Trees and flowering plants were all around and a waterfall splashed down nearby. Swarms of waiters bustled about, providing an endless stream of food and drink. A live group of players provided the music. Normally, they never would have been able to afford anything like this, but the world had changed for the Farsvars.
And a lot of people seemed to think he was the one who had changed it.
“Well, Grandson,” said Grandfather in a surprisingly strong voice, “I always thought you would make good, but I wasn’t expecting you to make quite this good, quite this soon!” Everyone around laughed and Tad bobbed his head like an idiot.
“I was just lucky enough to be the one on watch, Grandfather.”
“Of course you were! And if someone else had been on watch we’d be having this celebration for him—so don’t let this go to your head, boy!” More laughter and Tad joined in. “But you were the one on watch and so this celebration is for you. And for the whole family.” Grandfather paused and swept his gaze over the assembled crowd. “We are beginning a new era of hope and prosperity for the Farsvars. Our debts have been paid off and our ship is being refitted and enlarged. The family will go on! Let us all give thanks—and celebrate!” Everyone cheered and Tad was mercifully released from the Old Man’s attention. He went back to his table and sat down. There was a glass of wine waiting and he took a gulp.
“I’m proud of you, Son,” said his mother from across the table. “Your father would have been proud, too.”
“Thanks, Mother. That means a lot.” His glanced strayed to one of the restaurant’s busboys who was clearing a nearby table. Without the arrival of the Newcomers, that might have been him in a few years. Stripped of ship and status, relegated to a petty indenture with no future and little hope. But that wasn’t going to happen now.
“Sasha was asking about you earlier, Tad. She’s right over there, why don’t you go and say hello?” He looked to where his mother was pointing and saw the young woman looking back at him. She was a second cousin and very marriageable. His mother had been trying to play matchmaker for him ever since he had passed his tests. “Go on,” she urged.
Well, why not? He got up and awkwardly made his way over to her. “Hi, Sasha.”
“Hello, Tad. I was wondering if I was ever going to get a chance to talk to the great hero.” He looked closely, but he could not detect any mockery in her smile. It was a nice smile. She was quite pretty, although for some reason the thought struck him that she would look even prettier with a long white braid of hair hanging down from one side of her head. Stop that, you idiot! Regina’s twice your age and it would never work. Anyway, you saw her kiss Mr. Crawford! But Sasha did have a very elaborate wreath of flowers sitting on her brow with trailing ribbons and her nose was very small and cute, indeed. And she smelled nice, too.
“Everyone’s been keeping me pretty busy…”
“Yes, and I’m sure they’ll continue if we stay here. Would you like to walk with me?”
“Uh, sure.” She took his arm possessively and led him to one of the stairs going down from the terrace. The stair was close enough to one of the waterfalls that conversation was impossible until they reached the bottom and moved off among the gardens. It seemed very natural and comfortable having Sasha on his arm. The park was entering its evening cycle and the overhead lights were dimming. Hundreds of smaller lights sparkled on the terraces or along the paths. It was nearly as beautiful as the girl next to him.
“I was hoping that you would come see me after your tests, Tad. I was disappointed when you didn’t.”
“Well, our ship was leaving right away,” he stammered. “I didn’t have the chance. We had debts to pay and we had to go.”
“A likely excuse. But those debts are all paid now, aren’t they? Now you can pay your debt to me.” Tad twitched in surprise when he realized where Sasha was leading him. A line of high hedges sectioned off a part of the gardens. Inside, the hedges created a maze with many small, enclosed spaces. Each space could be ‘closed’ by a colored rope that would fasten across the entrance. A few of the spaces were already closed in that fashion, but most were still open. Sasha took him to an entrance. “I passed all of my tests while you were away, too, Tad,” she whispered.
He gawked back at her. Was she really suggesting…? Yes, she was! Well, why not? They were both adults now and this was a normal part of the process. It wouldn’t commit him to anything…
“Come on, Hero,” she pulled him through and fastened the rope behind. Once they were inside the enclosure she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. It was a long and very intimate kiss. At first he didn’t know what to do, but after a moment it seemed entirely natural. After quite a while, Sasha pulled away, smiling beautifully. She unzipped the front of her blouse and shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She did not have a fraction of Regina’s endowment, but the sight still set Tad’s head reeling.
She reached out to undo his own shirt when she suddenly jumped back and yelped. “Ow!”
“Sasha! What’s wrong?”
She looked confused and her hand went to the back of her neck. “It felt like something stung me.”
“Are you sure? They don’t allow stinging insects in the—Ow!” Something nipped at his own neck and his hand automatically slapped at it.
“Tad, what… what’s happening?” Sasha was swaying and before Tad could even move, her eyes rolled back up in her head and she collapsed to the thick grass. He tried to reach for her, but his arms were like lead. Blackness was creeping in from the sides of his vision and suddenly the grass was rushing up to meet him.
* * * * *
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Brannon!”
“It is for the greater good, Andra,” said Brannon Gillard as he laid the boy out flat on the grass.
“Maybe so, but we’ve broken more laws than I can count, and if we get caught we’ll be de-frocked and locked away forever.”
“No one saw us, and we’re doing no permanent harm.”
“You hope no one saw us,” said Andra Roualet, eyeing the surrounding hedges. “Seyotah warriors might be closing in on us right now. As for doing no harm, well, I don’t think this boy is going to be real happy when he wakes up, considering how you interrupted him.”
“Neither he nor the girl will remember anything, Andra. They can take up where they left off. And if you are so opposed to this, why did you let me talk you into it?”
Andra Roualet frowned. “I suppose it was because I think you might be right. And we need to know.”
“Yes, we do. Hand me the interface, please.” Roulet opened the equipment bag and passed over what he had asked for: a medium-sized control box with two thick cables protruding. Each cable split into a cluster of several dozen smaller ones, each ending in an adhesive patch. He began attaching the leads from one cluster to the skull of the boy, his long-practiced hands locating each one precisely. “With the rope across the entrance, no one will bother us here, and considering the circumstances, I doubt anyone will come looking for these two for hours. We’ll be done and gone by then.” He finished attaching the last lead and then looked to Roualet. “I’m going to need your help here, Andra.”
The priestess knelt next to him and started attaching the l
eads from the other cable to his own skull. He wasn’t wearing a breathing helmet and he had already shaved his hair. To a casual observer he might have passed for a Seyotah. He had never worn his hair long like a warrior, so shaving was no great sacrifice, but he knew he would pay for going without the helmet over the next few days. The lack of chlorine in the air and the very high carbon dioxide level here would set up a chemical imbalance which would result in cramps and nausea, but not for at least another five or six hours. More than enough time to finish. He’d been tempted to bring a breathing mask, but the seals were never perfect, and considering recent events, leaving a trail of chlorine would attract far too much attention. Roualet finished her task and Brannon switched on the interface to calibration mode.
“This equipment isn’t really designed for this you know,” warned Roualet.
“Yes, but it will serve.”
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Not on an adult, no. But I’ve sat in on a few psychiatric sessions. I should be able to get what I’m looking for. And it does no harm, Andra.”
“No, but it is an intrusion. I feel very… awkward participating in this, Brannon.”
“No more awkward than I do, believe me. But we have to, Andra, far too much is at stake.” The priestess was silent and Brannon continued to work on calibrating the interface, but her words nagged at him. This was an intrusion and a serious breach of his priestly oaths. He had no legal authority to do what he was doing, and his moral authority would surely be questioned by many others. But he did not stop or hesitate. This had to be done.
The lights on the controls all turned green for the boy’s output; now to calibrate his own. The sensors attached to their skulls could detect the electrical processes in their respective brains and the equipment in the box could interpret the readings and turn them into something understandable. With two people hooked up at once, communication of a sort was possible. It wasn’t telepathy, not really, but a technological approximation of it. Brannon made use of similar equipment in the birthing crèche. A newborn child or a toddler in trouble could not communicate clearly; could not tell an adult what was wrong or where it hurt. Using an interface, Brannon could look into the child’s mind and find out. It was an invaluable tool during those critical early years. Psychiatrists could do the same for troubled adult minds. And on some occasions, the authorities could use the process to discover criminal action, although a person who was actively trying to resist would rarely reveal much. There were laws against the indiscriminate use of the technique—laws that Brannon was breaking.
The last light turned green and he looked at Roualet. “Okay, I’m ready.” He sat down next to the boy and composed himself. Finding the information he wanted was not going to be easy. If he simply wandered around inside the boy’s head uninvited, it could take days—or forever—to turn up what he was looking for. No, he needed further assistance, but fortunately it was available. Roualet had taken out an aerosol dispenser and set it on the grass between him and the boy. The drug it would give off would put both of them into what amounted to a focused trance. In that state, the level of communication would be greatly enhanced. Brannon could very nearly relive the days in the boy’s life that he was interested in.
He nodded to her and she opened the dispenser. He flipped the switch on the interface to put it in active mode. A faint white mist rose from the container and he breathed it in. It had no odor he could detect. Roualet had promised that it would work equally well on Clorindans and Seyotahs; he hoped she was right. But it was surely doing something, he was feeling very light-headed and there seemed to be another sleepy voice echoing in his ears. He could dimly see Roualet in her breathing helmet dragging the girl a little farther away from the mist. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his mission.
“Brannon, Brannon, snap out of it.” Someone was whispering in his ear and shaking him. It was hard to concentrate, but the voice and the shaking was persistent, and he forced open his eyes and looked around. Everything was as he last remembered it, except that Roualet was right beside him. “Are you all right? We need to get out of here! Someone’s looking for this pair!”
“What?”
“A group of youngsters went by a few minutes ago, calling for these two. I think they were just trying to harass them a little, but they almost came in here. I bluffed them away, but they might be back. We need to go!”
“How… how long was I…?”
“Almost three hours. Did you get what you need?”
“I-I’m not sure…”
“Well whatever you got will have to do. Come on!” Brannon shook his head, trying to clear it and saw that Roualet had already removed all the electrodes and packed the equipment away. The boy was still sleeping peacefully. “Here, help me move the girl.”
He was still woozy, but he assisted Roualet as best he could. They moved the young woman over so she was halfway on top of the boy. They draped his arms around her. The priestess bent down and used a hypo-spray on both of them. “There, they’ll wake up in a few minutes. Let’s go.” She took his arm and guided him out of the enclosure. They looked both ways but saw no one, then ducked under the rope without unfastening it. Arm-in-arm they left the gardens, trying to look completely nonchalant. Fortunately, it was quite dark and not many people were around. They found an elevator and headed back to the docking bays.
On the trip, Brannon tried to make sense of what he had learned. There were a flood of Tadsen Farsvar’s recent memories floating around in his head and grabbing them and putting them into order was not easy. A number seemed particularly intense and surfaced again and again: the image of the girl reaching out for him, the duel in which Keelan Caspari lost his life, a scene on a ship’s bridge which appeared to be the battle where Herren’s other son died, the image of the Newcomers’ fleet growing larger through a shuttle’s viewport. One of the Newcomer women, the odd one with the long white hair, appeared frequently. Bit by bit he sorted them out. He knew that the boy would have strange dreams and the flashes of memories not his own for a few weeks, but nothing more.
They arrived back at Edathil’s Gift and Brannon retrieved his helmet and then collapsed in the infirmary. Roualet hovered around for a while, running tests on him and then set herself in a chair opposite him. “Well?” she demanded.
“It worked. At least I certainly have a lot of the boy’s memories here. I’m trying to make sense of them. Whether there will be anything of use…let me think for a while.”
So she did. Brannon sat and thought for several hours, slowly arranging things in his head. This was a lot different from working with infants! One thing that did become apparent fairly quickly, though, was that this Tadsen Farsvar was a good lad. His hopes for the trade with the Newcomers wasn’t based on greed, but on desperation for his impoverished family. And he’d been thoroughly horrified by the slaughter of the Clorindan warriors, in spite of his family’s good reason to dislike them. The duel had left him shaken and sick at heart. But did he have any knowledge of the Newcomers’ intentions? Try as he might, Brannon could not find anything beyond their stated desire for trade. The boy’s conversations with the woman named Regina were very strong in his memories, but the woman revealed little except her body to Tadsen. Still, she had provided more information than any of the others. Brannon forced the memories into order. When had he first met her? Ah, the meeting aboard the huge, white vessel. Yes, now it was coming to the surface. A great meeting room, the leader of the Newcomers, translation problems. He and his uncle trying to communicate. And then… and then… what was this? The leader becoming very angry, shouting, but not at Tadsen or his uncle, at someone talking through a communicator. Confusion in the room. Many people talking. The Regina woman trying to take Tadsen away and then…
A woman in chains!
A prisoner is brought into the room. Many angry words between her and the leader. And then, Brannon almost howled in frustration, Tadsen was taken from the room and the woman is n
ot seen again.
“Brannon? Are you all right?” He started and saw Roualet staring at him.
“Yes,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, I think I’ve stumbled on something.”
“Information? The Newcomers’ intentions?”
“No, not exactly. But the boy saw something on the Newcomers’ flagship. A prisoner, a woman in restraints. The leader was very angry with her.”
“Really? Well that’s interesting, but I don’t see how it helps us.”
“Not directly, no. But it proves that there is some sort of dissension in the Newcomers’ ranks. If we could somehow talk to this woman, she might have reasons to cooperate with us.”
Roualet snorted. “And just how are we going to get the Newcomers to let us talk to her?”
“I don’t know, but we have to try.”
“What do you mean we?”
“The Newcomers have agreed to receive embassies from all the clans out at their fleet. I can go to represent the Clorindans. But I will need transport. You are headed out there yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yes, in a few weeks, but…”
“Please Andra! You can’t quit on this now!” The woman stared at him for many long seconds before answering.
“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this!”
Chapter Fifteen
“Dame Regina, I know this will be difficult for you, but I desperately need your help.”
Regina Nassau stared across the large polished desktop at Rikard Shiffeld and tried to keep the annoyance she was feeling off her face and out of her voice. She glanced at where her second-in-command, Doctor Kurt Ramsey, was sitting and then back at Shiffeld. “I’m a terraformer, Sir Rikard, not a diplomat.”
“You underrate yourself,” said Shiffeld with a grin Regina was coming to dislike. “The communications we’ve had from the Seyotahs has been uniformly complimentary on your performance during the embassy to Panmunaptra. They were very impressed with you and so am I. And yes, I realize that your primary task is terraforming, but we are all being asked to do double and sometimes triple duty. I know that you would prefer to accompany the terraforming ship to the fourth planet, but we need you here to handle all of the incoming delegations from the local clans. I’m sure you can see how important it is that we establish good relations with the locals, Regina.”
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