Empaths (Pyreans Book 1)
Page 16
“Corporal, do you not know that a ship’s captain routinely opens his ship to space?” Liam asked. “He does it to clear out dust and fine debris that are fire hazards. The process also rids the ship of vermin. Then again, a captain could be practicing vac suit drills in the event of decompression emergencies.”
Terrell felt the hard stares of his superiors, and, at that moment, he hated Captain Cinders with every fiber of his being.
“Thank you, Corporal, you’re dismissed,” Emerson said curtly.
“Please, sir —” Terrell began to plead.
“March, Corporal McKenzie,” Devon ordered harshly.
Terrell left the commandant’s office totally defeated, and anger simmered deep within him. Unfortunately, a coin-kitty or kat would need medical attention tonight when Terror finished with them, and another establishment would be placed off limits to him.
-13-
Honora Belle
After Harbour’s meeting with Captain Cinders aboard the JOS, she had spent hours in her cabin. She was dismayed that she had refused his request to take Aurelia off his hands. She tried to excuse her actions with the thought that the commandant’s announcement had negated that option. “Don’t start lying to yourself,” Harbour often remonstrated herself, as she sat in her favorite chair, one finger twisting a strand of hair. It was a habit of hers when deep in reflection.
For close to a century, a détente had existed among the various groups of Pyre. No one was happy with their lot in the arrangement, but, then again, a better alternative hadn’t been found. Now, one empath accused of murder was about to destroy the delicate balance of power, and she’d undermined the only man in Pyre who could facilitate that. Not that Jessie Cinders might intend to do that. He was just the sort of stubborn, fair-minded individual who wouldn’t back down from a fight.
“Time to pick a side,” Harbour muttered. The thought frightened her. Safety lay in staying out of the way of the internal squabbles of the families, the commandant, the Review Board, and the demands of the spacers. But, underlying all her concerns was the realization that, whether she liked it or not, Jessie Cinders was going to force everyone to declare their allegiances. And Harbour was the pragmatic sort. In her opinion, the more difficult a decision, the sooner it should be faced.
One day, having made up her mind to take action, Harbour sorted through the options she might have and the obstacles facing each one. When an outlandish idea occurred to her, she laughed out loud. “Why not?” she said, slapping the arms of her chair. She grabbed her comm unit and pulled up a list of ex-spacers who were residents of the Belle.
Two hours later, Harbour met in a conference room with a group of thirty-plus ex-spacers. In concert with the previous Harbour, the Belle had collected a pilot, although not qualified on a colony ship, a navigator, an assortment of engineers and techs qualified on environment and propulsion systems, and a bunch of crew, all vac suit qualified.
“I apologize for the conditions of our meeting room,” Harbour said, when she noted most of the people were dusting off chairs before sitting down. “Obviously, this room hasn’t been used in a long while, but that might change soon.”
The spacers, who had never been called to a meeting exclusive to their sort, went from curious to attentive.
“The residents of the Belle and I have appreciated what you’ve done and will do for this ship. Some of you are still serving out your sentences, and the rest of you have chosen to make this ship your home. Now, I have something important to ask of you. I need your experience as spacers. First, I want to know what conditions would hamper the movement of the Belle. Second, I want to know what materials and technical expertise we would need to prepare it for flight. And third, I want to know what additional people we would need to crew her.”
“Pardon me, ma’am, but are you nuts?” Pete Jennings asked.
Harbour took no umbrage at Pete’s manners. He was one of the empaths’ lifelong cases. Heavily burned in an accident aboard the YIPS, medical had done wonders repairing his body, but he was left scarred with attenuated mobility. A brilliant engineer, Pete chafed when dismissed from his job, and he spiraled into a hole of depression. Due to uncontrolled fits of anger, Pete landed repeatedly in confinement. At the last Review Board, Pete was warned that one more incident would see him incarcerated for life.
Dingles, on the other hand, had no such reason to accommodate a fellow spacer, injured or not, and he growled, “Hook on, spacer.”
“Aye, latched on,” Pete replied sullenly.
Harbour realized the dynamics taking place. Dingles was the senior spacer, and, without a captain in their midst, the others deferred to him. From Pete, Harbour sensed anger at the reprimand, but she picked up something else. It was faint but warm, where so much of Pete’s emotions typically were cold.
“You were saying, ma’am,” Dingles said.
“You’re familiar with Captain Cinders, even though most of you didn’t crew for him on any of his ships. Well, the captain has gone and done something either incredibly foolish or brave.”
“Knowing Captain Cinders, it’s probably both,” Danny Thompson called out, which started the spacers laughing.
Harbour could feel the renewed emotions circulating around the room. The men were galvanized by the nature of the meeting, spacers only, and the topics of conversation. Spacers, discussing the moving of a giant, colony ship and the actions of a popular captain, did wonders for their confidence and pride.
“Captain Cinders is sheltering the murderer who JOS security is seeking,” Harbour said, dropping the statement into the room like an asteroid striking the planet.
Most of the spacers were stunned, but Dingles asked the simple question, “Why?”
It was what Harbour was hoping to hear. She needed the spacers thinking and questioning.
“The girl who security is chasing is sixteen years old. She admitted to Captain Cinders that she killed Dimitri Belosov, but it was in self-defense. But, the telling point of her story is that she told Captain Cinders she did the deed with her mind. She’s an empath, and the governor is her father.”
Angry shouts directed at the governor and downsiders, in general, followed Harbour’s announcement. Dingles took a stance beside Harbour and shouted for order, and the spacers complied. Danny raised his hand, and Dingles acknowledged him.
“Word is that security has searched the Spryte twice and not found the girl,” Danny said.
“That’s what I hear, Danny,” Harbour replied. “I don’t know what Captain Cinders did with the girl, but I think it’s important that you know that I’ve heard all of this directly from him. He hoped to pass the girl to me, but it was too late. The commandant’s announcement and reward hit the public comm before we came to a decision.” Harbour was grateful that the spacers weren’t empaths. Surely, they would have detected her regret in telling the lie that she’d refused the captain’s request to take Aurelia aboard the Belle.
“How far do you intend to move the Belle, ma’am?” asked Bryan Forshaw, who was the next to be acknowledged. Bryan was a propulsion engineer who’d lost his right arm and leg. His prosthetics facilitated most of his everyday needs but not the delicate work required for sophisticated engine maintenance. He’d adopted two orphans, a brother and sister, from the JOS and was often heard to say that in another two years the teens would be tech spacers, qualified to work under an engineering officer. Then he would often add, “Give me five years with them, and I’ll make them junior engineers.”
“How far do I need to move the Belle to make a statement to the rest of Pyre and keep the ship out of the reach of JOS security?” Harbour replied.
The spacers shared grins. This was the sort of challenge they loved, and they started arguing the merits of their suggestions among themselves.
Dingles kept an eye on Harbour, and when she looked at him for assistance, he shouted “Hook on.”
“Aye, latched on,” came a unified shout.
“Before you
start figuring out the answers to my requests, I’ve got a few more to add,” Harbour said into the quiet. “Some of you have general spacer backgrounds handling supplies for your ships. I need to know what it would take to maintain our independence for up to a year. That means food, water, and sundry supplies. I need a list.”
“Ma’am, what’s the aim of all these preparations?” Dingles asked.
Harbour could see and sense the spacers’ anticipation ratchet up. “I think Captain Cinders has taken the first step in declaring war against the families by protecting Aurelia. I don’t know whether he’s thought it through to that point, but there’s going to be major repercussions from his actions, once they’re discovered. When that happens, people are going to have to choose a side.”
“What’s the expected outcome?” Pete asked.
Harbour hid her smile. Pete had raised a hand to be recognized by Dingles. It amazed her how quickly individuals fell back into their old habits, despite the horrific trauma they’d suffered. “My hope is that we can force a new agreement that gets Pyre a democratically elected government — no commandant, no governor, no family heads, and no Review Board. We return to a balanced, three-part system of elected representatives, judges, and a leader, but, before we get there, I expect a protracted fight.”
“A fight with what, ma’am? Shock sticks?” asked a tech incredulously.
“If you had a ship out by Pyre’s first or second moon, what would hurt you over time?”
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” the tech groaned. “Food, water, medical … the very things you asked us to consider supplying the Belle with for at least a year.”
“That’s absolutely right,” Harbour replied. “This could turn out to be a war of attrition. And, who do you think is best able to weather that type of conflict?”
An answer wasn’t necessary, and the spacers didn’t offer one. It was common knowledge that the downsiders held the upper hand. The domes sent their excess food topside to supplement what the JOS and the Belle could cultivate in their hydroponic gardens. In exchange, the JOS supplied the other parties with protein and hydroponic vegetables. In addition, the domes were the primary source of water, which they obtained from deep wells. The El car contained tanks below the cargo level, and every trip downside saw the car’s tanks filled and then emptied once aboard the JOS. In the past half year, the YIPS had produced copious quantities of hydrogen, but oxygen was in short supply. Until there was a plentiful supply of that gas from production, the stationers and spacers would have to depend on the downsiders for most of their water.
“There is the option to stay out of the fight,” Dingles said.
Harbour heard the spacer’s words, but she sensed his humor. Dingles was asking the question to satisfy those individuals who might be thinking the same thing, even though he didn’t believe it to be possible. “I’m afraid if we don’t take Captain Cinders’ side, the governor might become the defacto leader of Pyre — the domes, the stations, this ship, and every mining ship.
The spacers grumbled at the concept, and Dingles asked for more questions. When there were none, he turned to Harbour and said, “Ma’am, if you’ll excuse us, we have some thinking and then some work to do. You’ll be receiving your reports soon.”
Harbour nodded her appreciation and turned to leave, when she heard Dingles shout, “Captain on deck.”
The spacers jumped to attention, and Harbour turned to face them. They were grinning, and she was stunned.
“A ship in motion needs a captain, ma’am,” Dingles said, touching the brim of his cap in salute.
Harbour was without words, and she left the spacers to get to work. Once in the corridor, she muttered, “What have I gotten myself into?”
* * *
When Harbour had a moment to herself, she enjoyed a snack, while curled up in her chair. On her mind were the steps she initiated with the spacers. The one element that concerned her more than anything was her reading of Jessie Cinders. If she was wrong about how far he would go to protect Aurelia, then she would be making a great mistake to side with him.
It occurred to her that data was available to her that she hadn’t investigated, which might help her understand the man. Harbour moved to her desk monitor and linked her comm unit. She accessed the JOS personnel database. As the defacto leader of the Honora Belle, she had a captain-level clearance. And once this ship moves, I’ll actually be a captain. A captain without experience and training, Harbour thought. She wanted to laugh, but the idea scared her too much.
Harbour pulled up the contact list of her spacers and requested which ships they’d previously served on. Only three of them had crewed on any of Cinders’ ships. The captain had close to one-fifth of the mining fleet, but less than one-fifteenth of the spacers, who had suffered injury of one sort or the other, were his.
Not sure what that factoid told Harbour, she queried for a list of retired spacers, within the past ten years, who were in active employment on the JOS. She matched that list to the last ship each spacer served on. This time, Cinders’ people were more than 40 percent. So, captain, your people fare better in retirement and you have fewer injured than your contemporaries, Harbour thought.
Resorting to her previous query, Harbour pulled up the ledger on the Belle’s general fund. She eliminated every transaction but those of her anonymous donor and compared the dates of when the three spacers, who had served on Cinders’ ships, first came aboard the colony ship.
“Will you look at that?” Harbour whispered, staring at her monitor. The first deposit occurred four days after the arrival of the first spacer. The donation doubled when the second spacer came aboard; and it was now three times greater than originally with the addition of Dingles. Why, Captain Cinders, you’re crusty on the outside and soft on the inside, Harbour thought, smiling.
* * *
Harbour organized a second meeting. It was with her empaths. They crowded into the space reserved for empath training. Harbour took in the faces of the individuals, who were so precious to her. There was only one woman more than twenty years older than Harbour, but there were nine young trainees, who averaged twenty years younger than her.
There were older empaths, who couldn’t attend the meeting. One of the difficulties of aging sensitives was that at a certain point in their lives, they lost the ability to close their mental gates. Experience and capability grew with age, and then suddenly it was all useless, because of the loss of the control side.
Once laid wide open to the emotions of others, the older women felt constantly bombarded. They withdrew to quieter areas of the Belle and were visited only by other empaths, who could control the emotions they communicated.
The former Harbour had gone that way, while she was grooming her protégé, Celia O’Riley, who now stood in front of the assembled empaths.
“I’ve discovered the name of our anonymous donor. We’ve just adopted our third spacer from his ships and our donations have increased again. It’s Captain Cinders.”
“Do you realize, Harbour, that you’re broadcasting when you mention the captain?” Yasmin asked.
If Harbour had a sister, it would be Yasmin, despite the fact that they looked nothing alike. The two girls had come aboard the Belle for training within months of each other and had bonded. Yasmin, who displayed the features of her East Indian heritage, was nearly as powerful an empath as Harbour.
“Is it possible, Harbour, you’ve recently spent some personal time with the captain?” Nadine, the eldest sensitive, asked. She made it sound casual, but she had a twinkle in her eye.
Harbour, feeling her skin flush, clamped down on her mental gates.
When the empaths sensed Harbour’s broadcast shut off, they turned and smiled at one another.
“I think we can take that as a yes,” Yasmin said to the group, and the women chuckled and tittered.
“It looks as if we’ve made a mistake servicing the stationers and downsiders, when we should have been servicing the spacers,” Nad
ine said drily, and the group burst into laughter.
Harbour could understand the women’s desire to vicariously enjoy a personal connection with a normal. None of them, including Harbour, had ever had a successful one. Communication between partners was difficult enough, without one side worrying that the other might be manipulating their emotions, and the other side sensing emotions from their partner that were never meant to be shared.
“Enough about the captain and me,” Harbour said evenly. “Sooner than we might have wished, we’ve come to a critical crossroads. Captain Cinders has told me that the girl security is seeking is an empath, and she admits to killing Dimitri, whom she claims was abusing her. The weapon was her mind.”
Unlike the spacers, who tended to be a boisterous lot, the women in front of Harbour sat quietly, mulling over the news, and formulating their questions.
“How does Captain Cinders know this?” Nadine asked.
“The girl, Aurelia, snuck aboard the Spryte. Captain Cinders found her and hid her before security searched the ships on his terminal arm.
“Now, isn’t that interesting? A captain standing up for an empath, and Cinders at that,” Nadine commented.
“I’m curious, Harbour, how could a young downsider sneak aboard a mining ship?” Yasmin asked.
“According to Captain Cinders, Aurelia lulled the airlock duty crew member to sleep by hanging on a rail outside the ship.”
“That powerful,” a young empath was heard to utter.
“Captain Cinders hid her the first time, but do we know where Aurelia is now?” Nadine asked.
“Security ran a second search on the Spryte and didn’t find her. I surmise the captain has moved her somewhere else, but that’s conjecture on my part.”
“We don’t know where Aurelia is hiding, and we’ve no proof that she killed Dimitri in self-defense. It doesn’t sound as if there is any way we can help her,” Yasmin said.
“Phrased in that narrow manner, I would agree with you, Yasmin, but I think there’s a greater conflict looming. Aurelia is just the beginning.” Harbour laid out the details of Aurelia’s imprisonment with her family, the events leading up to Dimitri’s death, Aurelia’s escape to the JOS, and her contact with Captain Cinders.”