Grignal recalled from the article that she would be around fifteen now. She looked anything but. Had he not known her age already he would have guessed her to be ten years old, perhaps eleven. She looked more like a malnourished child from the badlands than she did a young, high-society woman living in one of the planet’s most powerful cities.
Grignal shivered when, with a hiss, the cryosleeve’s blue glass hinged upward. Sidanne stirred.
“Can you hear me?” Grignal asked her after a time.
If she did, she showed no response.
“You’re safe. I’m here to help you.”
All she did was shiver.
“Hold on, I’ll get something to keep you warm.”
Grignal went to retrieve the tarp. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
One moment he was reaching for the tarp, and the next he was on the ground lying prone, staring at the bright horizon. His limbs were limp and numb, and they tingled. His nose tingled too. Even his tongue tingled. He rolled over, feeling a wetness against his cheek. Drool? Vomit?
He stared up at the sky and realized with shock that the sun had already risen. How long had he been unconscious? He’d been going for the tarp, which—turning his head—he realized was still there. Had he been attacked? Had someone drugged him and taken Sidanne?
Sidanne.
He rolled the other direction. The case was still there. He pushed himself onto his knees. He felt queasy, but the feeling passed quickly. He crawled to the case and found it empty.
Grignal realized at that moment what had happened. He hadn’t been drugged. He’d been knocked unconscious by a psi. During his indoctrination for the war, he’d been given techniques to fend off such attacks, but the armistice had come shortly after, so he’d never had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of a human psi attack.
Nearly all cities—especially a large city like Alé Surçois—required that someone like Sidanne be registered, but when the girl in question was the première’s daughter, there would be courtesies offered and favors called in.
“Sidanne?”
He searched, much more wary now. He kept his mind sharp, ready to tighten his focus should she attack again. The tower above was clear, so he slipped along the edge of the roof, studying the dizzying number of floors below. He found her on the northern face, two stories down, naked and frail as a newborn robin. She was huddling against the biting wind that Grignal barely felt. She must have been trying to gain entrance through a window after finding the access door locked.
“Up here, Sidanne,” Grignal said.
She looked up and screamed, tried to shimmy along the ledge outside the windows, but as stiff as she was the danger of falling was great.
“Please, no!” Grignal pulled back to keep his profile small, less threatening. “I’m here to help.”
She stared up. Grignal had never seen a child’s eyes open so wide. As gaunt as she was the expression was sickening. Grignal remained, sending her calming words, and the more he did so the more she edged away from the heights of panic.
Then her eyes rolled back in her head and her entire body jerked.
For a moment, the city tipped upside down. Grignal felt like he was going to slip over the side with Sidanne, and they would both fall to their deaths. But the feeling fled as quickly as it had come.
Grignal climbed over the side, dropped one floor, and used its ledge to slow his descent. He reached the second ledge just as Sidanne fell free. He caught her gently but firmly and laid her over his shoulder. She weighed nothing at all; it was unnatural.
The climb back to the top of the building was awkward, but he gained the roof after several aborted attempts. He laid the tarp on the ground and cradled Sidanne onto it, and, not knowing what else to do, held her body still until the convulsions had passed. When she woke a few moments later, Grignal wrapped the tarp around her for warmth and to give her some small amount of decency.
Sidanne cleared her throat several times before speaking. “Stay away from me.” Her voice was gravelly, raw.
In the distance, a horn sounded five times. A tram was leaving the terminal. Sidanne’s skin seemed to have regained a little bit of color, and her cheeks didn’t look quite so sunken now.
“I won’t come any closer, unless you try to jump again.” Grignal smiled, a gesture Sidanne didn’t return.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“A friend.”
Her look said she thought the notion dubious, but she said nothing. She did, however, take in the city around them, and the more she did so, the more relieved her expression became. “I’m still in Alé Surçois?”
Grignal failed to hide his surprise. “You knew where you were going?”
“I remember my father and mother arguing. Father wanted me to go to see a man, a specialist. Mother forbid him from sending me away.”
“What sort of specialist, Sidanne? Why did he want to send you away?”
“Because...” Sidanne looked utterly confused. “I was passing out, headaches and... My father... My mother, she...” Her expression turned to worry and then one of outright horror.
“It’s all right.” Grignal said. “Memories can be fuzzy after you wake up. It’ll pass in a few hours.”
She looked up at him, a desperate expression on her face. “I need to get back to my mother. I need to go home.”
The access door behind Sidanne creaked open. Remmiau stepped onto the roof. His eyes thinned as he alternated glances between Grignal and Sidanne. “What’s going on here, mate?”
Sidanne tried to get up, but her simultaneous attempt at keeping her decency and getting away from Remmiau caused her to tip over. Remmiau shot forward, wrapped one arm around her neck, and hauled her up to her feet.
“Stop it, Rem. We were talking.”
Remmiau stared at Grignal like he couldn’t believe his ears. “Talking?” He tightened his hold on her neck and with his free hand retrieved an ampoule from his coat. When he pinched it between thumb and forefinger, it emitted a tiny crunch. He then waved the activated anesthetic beneath her nostrils.
“Stop it!” Grignal wanted to intervene, but he was afraid he’d hurt Sidanne if he was too forceful.
“Like we don’t have enough trouble, you big bloody lizard.”
Sidanne’s eyes lost focus. Remmiau set her down roughly on the tarp and stared at Grignal. “It’s nearly noon. You been playing footsie this whole time?”
Grignal already felt like he was on shaky ground. Remmiau always seemed to do that to him. “She’s in trouble, Rem. We need to help her.”
“She’s in trouble?” He exhaled noisily. “We’re in trouble. The Men in Red came to the park a few hours ago. Took everyone.”
Grignal could only stare. “Everyone?”
“As far as I can tell.”
“Bayard?”
“Quick one, aren’t ya? Yes, Bayard, Ijia.”
Grignal felt his guts tighten. “Ijia?”
“Everyone. Which is why we need to get her somewhere safe. We need to make a deal with her good old dad and get the hell out of this city.”
“How did you get away?”
He grinned his pointed-tooth grin. “Don’t I always tell you I’m slippery as greased shit?”
Nothing was adding up. Grignal trusted Remmiau to a degree—he’d never caused him any direct harm—but if there was one person Grignal thought might sell the troupe out, it would be Remmiau. And with the way Remmiau had acted last night. He seemed too eager to get this deal done.
“Rem, we need to talk to her mother.”
“Why, to pick up some diapers? Nothing doing, big boy, we’re heading underside and setting up a talk with the première. Word is he’s willing to talk to get his precious daughter back.”
“No, her mother will help. She was trying to protect her from Jaubert.”
“What’s that mean to me? Nothing. Now get your leathery backside moving, we don’t have much time.” And with that Remmiau t
urned back to the girl and began tightening the tarp.
This smelled really funny, and Grignal couldn’t let Remmiau run the show. Not this time. Things were too important, especially when the entire troupe and a girl’s life were in the balance.
“Come on,” Remmiau snapped.
Grignal picked Remmiau up.
“Hey, get off!”
Stepped to the edge of the building.
“Grignal!”
And held Remmiau out over the edge.
“Stop!”
“Listen to me, Rem,” Grignal said calmly.
“Stop it!”
“I said, listen.”
Remmiau breathed in great gasps of air. He was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“We’ve never quite seen eye to eye, you and I. But I’ve put up with it, for the sake of keeping the peace. But this is different. This girl is caught up in something strange, and we’re going to try to get her out of it.”
Remmiau stared.
“You need to nod, Rem, so I know you understand.”
Remmiau nodded.
“Good. Now you and I are going to figure out a way to get to her mother. She’s going to help us get Sidanne and the troupe out of this. All right?”
“All ... right,” Remmiau croaked.
“One more thing—and this is where you need to listen real close.”
Remmiau nodded.
“You don’t have to nod, ’cause this is just the way it is. If I figure out that you’re lying, that you’ve made some kind of deal for your own benefit, I’m going to pop your head from your neck.”
Remmiau stared, fear plain in his eyes. There was indignation there, too. Grignal hoped it was sincere.
Grignal threw Remmiau to the roof. He collapsed immediately. “Now how can we get to Sidanne’s mother?”
* * *
They took Sidanne to a safe house Remmiau had set up before he’d come to find Grignal. She woke a few hours later while Remmiau was out digging for information. Remmiau turned up nothing, but Sidanne said she could get them inside their apartment, where her mother would surely be. Remmiau didn’t like it, but he couldn’t think of a better plan to get some help out of this mess. So with the last of their liquid credits, Remmiau bought a digital key that would allow them inside the première’s tower. It only granted janitorial access, but it was enough to get them to the penthouse floor. Sidanne said she would take care of the rest.
They met two guards at the entrance, but since Jaubert was attending a public function, they were unprepared for this kind of opposition. As agreed, Remmiau watched the front entrance while Sidanne and Grignal searched the penthouse for Ettienne. The air smelled humid, an uncommon luxury in any city.
They found Ettienne a few minutes later in a lush, sprawling room with a beautiful view of the entire city. Sidanne ran into her mother’s arms, while Ettienne stared at Grignal, her face a mixture of joy and confusion. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her green eyes shone in the dim ambient light. She was beautiful, and the resemblance to Sidanne was unmistakable: strong cheekbones, pointed chin, delicate ears.
She moved Sidanne to her side and pulled herself taller. “How?” was all she said.
“I don’t know how Sidanne came into our hands,” Grignal said. “I only know she needed help.”
She pulled Sidanne tight and kissed her daughter’s honey-brown hair. “Yes, she did need that, but she’s safe now.”
Grignal looked closely at Sidanne. She had hair. It looked just like it had in the article he’d found on the interlink. And her cheeks and arms. She didn’t seem gaunt at all.
Somehow... Somehow all this seemed right. It seemed like it had always been. Grignal knew something was wrong with that notion, but he couldn’t quite explain why.
Footsteps came from behind. Grignal turned to find five men in red helmets and body armor advancing into the room. They sited down assault rifles and fanned out as they reached the expanse of the room. Behind them walked Jaubert Rousseau holding a sleek chrome pistol in one hand and wearing a fitted, cream-colored suit. He scanned the room, passing over his wife and daughter as if they weren’t there. Remmiau was nowhere to be seen. Grignal had no idea how they had subdued him so quietly.
“Tell me what you’re doing here,” he ordered Grignal.
Grignal looked at Ettienne, wondering if she would help.
“Sidanne?” Jaubert scanned the room again and stepped forward slowly.
Sidanne was watching her father, but she seemed distant somehow.
“Jaubert, what are you on about?” Ettienne asked.
“Sidanne?” Jaubert repeated.
“Jaubert, stop it.” Ettienne’s voice was forceful.
“Tell me what you see.” Jaubert raised the pistol and pointed it at Grignal’s chest. “Now.”
Grignal had no idea what was happening. “I see your wife and daughter. There.” He pointed.
“Sidanne’s here?”
Grignal nodded.
“Sidanne, please don’t do this. It’s time to let her go.”
Grignal felt another stab of vertigo, just like on the rooftop when Sidanne had been ready to fall to her death, only this time it was much worse. He collapsed to the floor and vaguely sensed the same happening to Jaubert and the armored men.
The room spun. His life over the last several hours melted away. He couldn’t remember why he’d come to the tower. He couldn’t remember where he’d been before this very moment. He could barely remember coming to Alé Surçois at all.
Bit by bit, his memories slipped away. He remembered traveling through the desert to reach Alé Surçois, and then there was an emptiness. He remembered their last performance before trekking into the badlands, and then he didn’t. One by one, the members of the troupe began slipping from his grasp.
The boys who performed wonders on the plank. Gone.
No.
Le Chat and his poor excuse for a nurse. The seven taiko drummers. The three singers. Gone.
No!
Remmiau. Ijia. Bayard. All of them, gone.
NO!
Grignal fought to remember his training. He was supposed to sidestep the attack. Hide from it within his mind. Lure the psi in closer. He did, though it felt like it wasn’t working at all.
But then he felt her. Sidanne’s mind. Her mind was arcing through all of them—him, Jaubert, the men in uniform. She was changing their memories, rifling through them like one of Bayard’s interlink bots and replacing it with what she saw fit. The only conspicuous absence was Ettienne. Sidanne wasn’t connecting to her mind. In fact, Ettienne didn’t seem to be there at all except to the extent that Sidanne was placing memories of her in all their minds.
Grignal did the only thing he knew how to do—he bellowed and fought back. He charged. He clawed and growled. He beat against the mind that was toying with his own.
Grignal could feel her fall back. He knew she was weakened from the cryosleeve and no doubt from depriving herself of her body’s basic needs in deference to her delusions. Grignal realized a moment later that he could actually remember Bayard and the first time he’d met the troupe. The memory had returned.
He pushed harder, and Sidanne retreated. She couldn’t keep up the fight against all of them. She concentrated on Grignal instead. And it was all too quickly that she was turning the tide.
But she was desperate. She hadn’t been pushed like this in years, not since she’d started covering up her mother’s death.
The thought struck Grignal and Sidanne simultaneously.
Her mother had died.
No. She wasn’t dead.
She couldn’t be.
Grignal heard a wailing at the edges of consciousness. He knew it was coming from the physical world, but he was so tied up in the battle with Sidanne he had no idea who it might be coming from.
“She’s dead,” Grignal said to himself, sure of it now. It was the only explanation. Sidanne was clearly a powerful psi. She was creating her own
warped reality to keep her mother alive, for herself, for her father, and anyone else who got in her way.
Grignal coaxed Sidanne’s mind into remembering by merely suggesting it. And within a few moments, Sidanne, in all her efforts to avoid it, uncovered it for him.
Ettienne had died while walking Sidanne home from a cello recital. It had gone so well. Jaubert, as usual, had been unavailable, but her mother had been so proud. Sidanne had been too. They had decided to take a walk together and enjoy the night, but neither of them did so often, and they took a wrong turn. They didn’t notice the man standing in the dark, waiting. Ettienne had tried to protect Sidanne, but in doing so she had met with a glimmering blade. She died, right then, too quickly for any help to arrive.
Sidanne had buried the memory so deep that she was sure she’d never find it again. Her mother was alive. She had to be. Sidanne would make sure of it.
Grignal regained enough of himself to look about the room once more. The Sidanne that looked so much like a normal fifteen-year-old was gone. Ettienne was still there, but she was motionless, expressionless. The guards were still prone, but Jaubert was on his knees and his face was filled with a light melancholy smile. He was staring at Ettienne.
Sitting in a chair, emaciated, listless, was the real Sidanne.
She stared up at Grignal with sunken, watery eyes.
“Your father woke up from the dream, didn’t he? That’s why he contracted us to send you to Balgique-en-Leurre, to the temple.”
Sidanne nodded.
“He wants you to let go of your mother.”
She nodded again. “But I didn’t want to. I made him forget.”
“How long has it been?”
Sidanne looked so scared then, just like she had on that ledge high above the city. “I don’t remember.”
Grignal smiled. “That’s ok. The people in the temple can help you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because a friend of mine told me so. He’s the leader of my troupe.” He kneeled by the chair, careful not to touch her. “We can bring you to the temple. You can be free of the pain.”
In the Stars I'll Find You Page 13