The Alliance

by David Andrews

  “I’m afraid,” she said. “The change is too big and it frightens me.”

  Among Jack’s family, she felt safe, understanding instinctively their warmth and concern for her well-being. Soon she would enter a world where too much of its ugliness was on show, revealed by her ability to pierce the polite shield of speech and see the thoughts lurking behind. She was thankful Jack was taking the long way home, eschewing the mountains for coast hopping around scenic headlands and deep bays. It was breathtaking, soothing, and it allowed her to gather the reserves of courage she needed. Her only problem was the thirty hours between her and her last sleep. Dusk was a memory and Jack would have to break the rules about night flying near the portal.

  “We need to talk.” Jack cleared the last headland and set the autopilot for the Treaty Port. “This is what I know of Internal Security’s plans.” Jack took the shortcut of sharing mind to mind, holding nothing back, so Rachael experienced the Alliance’s command of Limbo and its power.

  “This is how Peter wants it handled.” He continued and explained each step of the plan. “It will give Internal Security pause and buy us time.”

  Rachael nodded her understanding. It was brilliant, a perfect example of a Alliance coup, utilizing internal schisms to achieve much.

  “You ready?”

  She could feel Jack’s love and nodded again. The flyer soared upwards and gained speed.

  * * * *

  Jenni watched Rachael descend the steps at the rear of the flyer. The radio message had given her time to be waiting and her fear made it imperative. Internal Security had put two and two together about its supply of the camera images and the failure of the satellite equipment. She’d endured a twenty-minute grilling in the secure cabinet before destroying every vestige of evidence, hologram discs and courier receipts included. Internal Security would deal with the records off-planet. Her job now was to find out what her boss knew.

  Rachael looked tired. The details of the rescue and her part in it were common knowledge, word of mouth supplementing the radio broadcasts from the island, and a crowd had gathered to welcome the flyer. A pause at the top of the step, as if bracing herself, and then Rachael came down, head up and smiling, acknowledging the cheers with a wave of her hand. The President followed her and they stood together for a moment before separating. Rachael walked toward the embassy group and the President headed toward his quarters in the inn.

  “Good evening, Rachael.” Jenni stepped forward. “These are the most urgent messages needing your attention.” She extended the sheaf of flimsies. “They all relate to the satellites.”

  “Reply, saying access is denied. Maintenance is now a local responsibility and all departments should be advised accordingly.” Rachael’s response was short. She’d been embarrassed and was angry, Jenni guessed.

  “Should I include the reasons given?” The opportunity to learn more was too tempting.

  “Treaty violation. The use of non-treaty surveillance equipment. The President advises further violations will endanger the Treaty and force him to revoke all trading licenses.” Rachael had obviously endured a torrid period of her own.

  “You need rest.” Jenni wanted to wrap Rachael in her arms and support her physically. She looked like nervous energy alone held her upright. “I’ll deal with this. A shower and eight hours sleep will make you feel better.”

  Rachael looked at her sharply, as if considering her motives, and then nodded. “Thank you, I do need rest.” She turned and gave the other members of the welcoming party the same considering look before turning and leading the way toward the compound.

  Jenni followed, hovering close in case Rachael needed physical support.

  An hour later, with Rachael showered and sleeping, the messages sent and acknowledged, Jenni sat in her room, considering her options.

  The shutdown of the satellite cameras had stirred the pot and the President’s response, relayed through Rachael, would send everyone scuttling for their hidey-holes. He not only knew about the cameras, he had the technology to disable them and the self-destruct circuits. Coming immediately after their use to monitor the gathering at the beach pavilion, there could be no doubt the Alliance had penetrated the Internal Security operation. All that remained now was the decision of who to sacrifice.

  A prima facie case existed that the Alliance had used their undetectable portals to spy, either on her, or at some point along the Internal Security line of command. The Head of Internal Security must now do everything possible to hide their existence, even if it meant closing the file completely. Any suspicion he’d been attempting to gain their use exclusively for Internal Security would be his death knell. For the moment, his sole purpose would be survival.

  That left her exposed. What could she do to escape the fall-out of this disastrously compromised mission?

  Rachael would be her touchstone. If Internal Security’s role in her appointment came out, they’d replace her and suspicion would fall on Jenni. It depended on the portals. Without them, it was a simple case of the Head of Internal Security over-reaching himself in an excess of zeal. The comms people here had detected the shutdown from the power drop and it technically feasible for the locals to do the same. It could pass examination. Rachael’s debriefing from Thanatos had revealed indications of mental instability, visions and the like. It could discredit her version of the departure of the Pontiff and hide the portals from the main councils of the Federation.

  Jenny crossed her fingers.

  Casting her adrift was the best outcome. All her missions for Internal Security had been clandestine. There was no official record of her existence beyond her surface role as a Personal Assistant. Her record was good, provided she could explain the apparent madness of accepting a position with Rachael, a brand new ambassador with few prospects for advancement.

  Jenni smiled. She knew exactly she’d achieve it.

  * * * *

  Jack dealt with the administrative details of the day, attended meetings and listened to the usual run of problems. He was tired, but once he felt Rachael drift into restful sleep, he felt better.

  “Hi.” Jean-Paul stepped out of Limbo, fortunately into an empty office.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “Peter’s sending me off again. Said I was getting underfoot too much. I’ve come to say goodbye.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s roped you in at last. You always said the Federation was an irrelevance.” Jack was surprised. Jean-Paul’s independence was deep rooted.

  “They still are.” Jean-Paul smiled. “Peter needed something to push against.” He was the only one who accepted completely Peter’s creation of this world and all it consequences. “I came across some odd things in my travels. I needed to discuss them with Peter. They turn some of his theories on their head.”

  Jack, the pragmatist, shook his head. The creation of the world was irrelevant. He existed. It existed. He was content to leave speculation to Peter and Jean-Paul.

  “Don’t do that.” Jean-Paul entered his mind. “It affects Rachael.”

  “How?”

  “When Feodar swapped with Gabrielle, Peter thought his life expectancy would drop to normal, just as Peter’s and Gabrielle’s were extended, by the differing time streams. It didn’t happen, for he lived some seven hundred years after the swap, and one theory connects it to his telepathy. Some of the Elite still retained vestiges of it for several generations so he had some communication with them. As the bloodlines weakened, it did too and the natural life span of the Pontiffs shortened. D’feodar is less than a hundred years old.”

  Jack nodded. His pre-mission briefing had covered the succession of Pontiff’s and their degenerating telepathic ability. He hadn’t noticed the correlation to their longevity before.

  “My wanderings brought me into contact with other groups who claimed telepathic powers, mostly charlatans, but there were some genuine cases. None at our level, but all possessed latent abilities and each fed on the others to increase them.
I had to be very careful with them.” Jean-Paul smiled. “Some had made it a religion and resented intruders.” Religious groups were always dangerous. Dogma replaced logic and they resented anything challenging it. “I noted the interesting correlation, with the more adept living longer, but discounted it for other factors until I came across the Viridians.

  “Their sector was never explored. The scout ship assigned to it was one of the early casualties. They are a race of functioning telepaths where social progression is determined by tests of their powers. The population is divided geographically into four main areas and the southern Tetrarch is approaching our level and is three thousand years old.”

  “They haven’t discovered Limbo.” Jack made the obvious deduction. In three thousand years they’d have swarmed through the known universe

  “No, but some space pirates blundered into their way and they’re investigating the technology. Peter wants me to keep an eye on them.”

  “How…,” Jack stopped, remembering Peter’s words about Feodar being a better example. If telepathy linked to life expectancy, Rachael could expect to match Gabrielle.

  “Now you understand.” Jean-Paul’s grin looked incandescent. “I can leave with a clear conscience. Name the first boy after me.” He disappeared.

  “Mister President?” his next appointment asked.

  “Yes. Come in and take a seat.” Jack beamed at the man. “How can I help you?”

  * * * *

  Rachael woke refreshed. Her return to the Treaty Port and Federation compound had the quality of a nightmare. It felt great to wake and feel alone, her mind not bombarded by other’s thoughts.

  “Good morning,” Jack greeted her.

  “Where are you?”

  “In my office. I fell asleep here last night.” She heard his chuckle in her mind. “Word had passed around about your exploits on the island and everyone wanted to congratulate you. I said you weren’t available until you’d rested, so they came to me instead. If we held an election tomorrow, I think you’d win in a land slide.”

  “What’s the pay like? I might think about it.” She felt great.

  “Lousy and the hours are endless.”

  “You’re just saying that to put me off.” She laughed aloud He felt close.

  A gentle tapping on the door warned her. “Yes?” She spoke aloud, the word sounding hollow in her ears.

  “May I come in?” Jenni asked.

  “Bye, Love. Catch you later.” Jack left.

  “Yes.” She was glad he’d gone; handling thoughts and words at the same time was beyond her.

  “Are you ready of breakfast?” Jenni only half entered the room, pausing half in and half out the door.

  “What time is it?” Rachael faced the wrong way to see her bedside clock.

  “Just a little before eight.” God, she’s beautiful…, Jenni’s thoughts ran on to imagine things Rachael found startling, proving how much words slowed communication by compressing a seduction and orgasm into the half second it took her to reply.

  “You go ahead and save a seat for me in the canteen.” The tenor of Jenni’s imaginings made Rachael reluctant to lower the bedclothes.

  “Right.” Jenni paused a half-second and Rachael’s hands tightened on the sheet, jerking it a little higher to hide her nipple in a convulsive response to the direction of Jenni’s musing. “Are you sure, you shouldn’t rest a little longer?”

  “No.” It was hard to separate Jenni’s imagination from her intentions, but the detailed pictures running through her mind involved both of them in this bed. “You go ahead. I’ll join you as soon as I’ve dressed.”

  Jenni closed the door and disappeared, but Rachael felt her retreating thoughts. She closed her mind with an effort of will, blanking Jenni out.

  Jack had named Jenni an agent of Internal Security and he wouldn’t be guessing. It raised an interesting question. Were thoughts like words? Did they come and fade, the same as sounds, or did they leave a trace extending backwards into memories? Had Jack, or one of the others, caught Jenni’s thoughts as they happened, or followed them back into her mind and scanned her memories?

  She felt surprised to find she’d dressed unconsciously in the midst of this and stood at her door.

  Breakfast. She still needed to eat.

  Jenni was watching the door into the canteen and Rachael felt her recognition and saw her raised arm. She responded with a casual wave and headed direct to the bain-marie. The chef saw her coming and she felt the warmth of his regard. He was proud of his Feodar’s World heritage and of her.

  The mind filter was working, general impressions flowed through, but unless she focused on the individual, specific thoughts didn’t. The consensus of the room was admiration for the way she was handling the situation, particularly her calmness in taking a ten-hour break for sleep. No one realized how exhausted she’d been by the rescue and its aftermath. One thread was apparent. They were all concerned for their future and equally divided between those who saw it exclusively within the Federation or here on this planet. The longer the individual had been here, the more he, or she, considered it their home. Many wanted to move out of the compound, now that Jack was modernizing the local environment. No one feared this world’s inhabitants now that the Pontiff disappeared.

  Jack had made a great start.

  She thanked the chef and took her plate, the food tastefully arranged and served direct from the stove—a rare privilege.

  On the way to her table, she paused with the administrative head of the compound. “Please advise all off-duty personnel I would like to say a few words in here after breakfast.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Would nine-thirty be a good time?” Caught with his mouth full, he nodded, and she continued her way to the chair Jenni had reserved.

  “Good morning,” Jenni had remembered her instructions and they sat at a different table, so introductions took precedence to eating for the first few minutes. It wasn’t until the first one rose to leave that Rachael remembered. “I’m going to say a few words at nine-thirty. I’d be grateful if you were here.”

  Nods all around responded and Jenni had a question in her eyes. “I’ll explain when everyone can hear,” Rachael said. “It’s merely to keep everyone up to date with what’s happened.”

  The administrative head left the room and a PA announcement followed, causing heads to turn to Rachael. She smiled encouragingly and continued eating.

  By nine-thirty, everyone had finished eating and the canteen, the largest area in the compound, was full. Rachael rose from her chair, kicked off her shoes, and Jenni helped her climb onto their table so everyone could see her. Having enquired and been assured that everyone could hear, she was ready to progress the plan formed on the flight back to the Treaty Port.

  “I returned to Feodar’s World hoping for a quiet time, in which I could feel my way into a new role. It hasn’t happened.” The titter of laughter came as she expected. “From the information available to me, it seems, Internal Security, whom we all love and respect,” she milked more laughter from them. “Have exceeded their brief and undertaken an external operation for an undisclosed purpose and been caught red-handed.” She shook her head theatrically. “The President, who is aware of far more of the internal workings of the Federation than is entirely comfortable for me, has irrefutable evidence of this, and I will pass it on to the appropriate authorities later today when their courier arrives. He has asked me to assure all of you he does not intend to break ties with the Federation. However, in the unlikely event that he did, he has promised that any of you who wish to stay will be welcomed with full citizenship.” A delighted buzz answered the statement and Rachael gave them time to think about it.

  “Like the President, I do not anticipate things going that far.” She smiled at them. “If it did, my career in the diplomatic service would be the shortest on record.” More laughter and a ripple of quips. “Please continue your duties on the assumption I will advise you of any changes as soon as I learn the
m.” The applause was genuine as she stepped down and sat to put on her shoes.

  She felt Jenni’s fear before she looked up and was careful to make her smile warm and friendly. “I think we’ll slip out and give them the freedom to discuss this.”

  Jenni nodded and they left the canteen.

  “I’m going to see the President.” Rachael needed Jack. This mind to mind contact had its limitations. “He promised me proof of Internal Security’s meddling. I want you to prepare a timeline of events since we received the request for access. Leave my activities blank until I get back with the proof, but include the comms report about the base load changes.”

  Jenni nodded, but the curve of Rachael’s lower lip captured her mind. Her imagination leaped forward to the sensation of capturing it between her teeth and Rachael had to block out her thoughts in self-protection.

  “She’s doing it deliberately.” Jack was there. “It’s part of her survival strategy. A believable explanation why she chose to risk her career with a new ambassador. She’s convincing herself so she can convince others it was simple lust.”

  Rachael remembered her suspicions the morning after the pavilion dinner and had difficulty hiding her thoughts. She felt grateful when Jenni turned away and left so she could go her own way to the side exit she’d used before.

  “I’m coming to see you,” she sent, demanding Jack’s attention. Jenni’s thoughts had triggered her own needs.

  “I know.” She felt his smile.

  “It may be wise to ensure privacy before I reach you.” She made it a deliberate communication. “I have a sudden insatiable curiosity about the effect of telepathy on certain interpersonal activities.” She experienced his picture of what she had in mind and was satisfied she’d communicated well. It was exciting enough to make walking normally difficult and she felt glad the canteen was well behind her.

  Her progress to the inn became a parade. It began with broad smiles surrounding her as shouts of recognition turned heads and grew to be a moving crowd with her in the center, a pathway opening before her and closing behind. The innkeeper greeted her at his door and Jack waited at the head of the stairs leading to his rooms.