by Pam Uphoff
"No, we rather think it's yours. Isn't it?"
"It comes firs w'me, but yah seem to be putting some odd umphasis on t'term. I tink I am missing yah meaning altogethah." She was keeping it together pretty well. Obviously trained.
"Oh come now, with genetic engineering like yours, you think you can fool us?" Florian kept his voice soft and gentle.
Never frowned and thought that one over, and finally shrugged.
"What world would you go to, to get to the One World?"
Never frowned at him again. "I don't understand. What do you mean by t'One World?"
Even sprawled on the floor she's thinking about the questions. Can she also lie?
"The One World is a world that has also discovered trans-dimensional travel. They Worship the One and the elite of their world are called One. Is that your world?"
"Oh, dem. Da empire uh t'one. Dat was ina book." She was swaying slightly; the drug was about to knock her out, physically, even though she was fighting the mental effects.
"But you know them?"
"Nope. I jus read about dem ina hisry book. Tought dey went away?"
"Has your world been discovered by people traveling through gates?"
"Yes."
"Are the people who came through the gate wizards."
She scrunched up her nose in bewilderment and shook her head.
"I'd like to meet these wizards. Where can I find them?"
"Waiting for us. Dydit's going to be pissed." Her eyes rolled up as the lids closed and she collapsed completely.
Florian ripped the patch off her shoulder, just under the collar of the orange bodysuit. "We'd better let her sleep it off. We've got plenty of time, now. Has her locker been checked? Run a search on those three names. Has the other woman been captured?"
Greeson stalked into the room and stared down at the woman. "We'll have a detailed genetic analysis by morning. But the fast scan found eighty completely artificial genes, and numerous unknown alleles of other genes. She must be one of the elite, to not have been conditioned to suicide."
"Have we captured other female agents?" Florian asked. He got a keen look from the older agent and a miniscule nod.
"Only two out of the seventeen we are sure of. But they were not taken alive, so we don't know about the conditioning." The Special Agent smiled nastily at the unconscious woman. "By morning we'll have more information on her friends. Then we can narrow down the questions."
Florian snuck a look at his watch. It was already morning, by some definitions. He made a mental note to take a wake up pill with his breakfast. "I think she's a criminal, on the run from them. Meeting us was probably a shock. Maybe we can persuade her that it was a bit of good fortune, instead."
Greeson narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't let your imagination run away with you. That's just one possibility, out of dozens."
***
:: You sound drunk. Be careful, and don't answer out loud. ::
Question bit her lip nervously. Was it possible to control a powerful witch with drugs? Of course Never had been trolling for information, not trying to escape. "I'll start worrying in the morning." She glanced up at the dark sky. "In a couple of hours."
She backtracked from the labor building to the gate.
Security was tighter, but that made it easier for her. Fewer people to dodge around on the sidewalk. The guards outside the windowed control room checked a woman's ID, then held the door open for her. Question hustled through on her heels, and nipped up the stairs. Up there it was crowded with people in uniforms.
"We can't just arbitrarily swap gate times around. If the gate anchors aren't turned on it increases the amount of time it takes to sync, and under the circumstances we can't charge the companies for that extra time. And if the Anchor is in a building, the chances of a halt or collision is too damned high."
The head uniformed guy was scowling. "I don't really care what you do, so long as you do not open any gates to these twenty-five worlds."
"Do you have any idea of what a missed gate connection can do to the image of Earthers on a Labor World? Or worse, a mining world. Once we look like we're vulnerable, like we can't call in the troops, they'll be all over our people."
Question eased around to where she could see the list. Nothing with a "Dallas" on it. Good.
"I doubt the disruption will last more than a day or two. And I thought these places opened up and turned on their gates plenty early?"
"They do, but not generally more than a few hours early. The exploration companies are better about that. We might manage to move a few of them up as much as twelve hours."
Question dodged hastily as the woman poked the list hanging on the wall.
"I'll try to leap frog Half Dome, General Star, Danube and Dallas ahead. If I can reach them and they can get their stuff ready. Then maybe, if you lot are competent, we'll only be a few hours late for most of the rest of the worlds." She shook her head as she started highlighting the companies on the proscribed list. "Late. Every single one of these."
The people running the gate interrupted her to line out a world and check on the next. One with highlighter through it.
"Skip that one. Do this colony world."
"What about the convoy waiting to go through?" A man looked back and forth between the woman and the uniformed men.
Question left them to it, and nipped down the stairs and out the door. Brilliant lights kept the street as brightly lit as day. People in white jackets were sending people in green and yellow jackets off to the side and waving forward another set in red and black stripes. A line of gyps and tankers were leaving the gate. The tankers had ladders on the back and she climbed up on one as it slowed. She listened mentally. All the drivers were thinking about was going home. Which sounded like a good place to start.
They drove through a gate with a guard, but the returning vehicles barely got a glance. Looking behind, she could see the driver behind her with something like an ID card in hand, getting it close to a box on a pole. Then they pulled under short roofs, probably sunshades rather than rain shelters. They pumped fuel into their vehicles, not the big tanks on back, but their own fuel tanks. Then they drove off, parked between painted lines, and walked off into various buildings. Question followed one driver at random. Keys turned in here, living quarters, there. The building was a like a huge city mansion, with hundreds of bedrooms. More like an army base, actually. Question poked her head in the kitchen and mess halls, entertainment rooms. Right.
She walked back to the bedrooms and closed her eyes, to concentrate. She needed a woman, sleeping. She found one, deepened her sleep. Triggered the electronic lock with a light touch and walked in. She eyed the skinny waif, and backed out of her room and tried another. The next one was a touch too large, but not enough that anyone was going to notice. It wasn't like the driver's clothes were tight fitting, anyway. A bit of extra bagginess was no problem. She experimented with the woman's ID until she could get it to trigger correctly.
Then, plan ahead. A backpack. Tools, nice. An electronic reader, and a bunch of book chips? She snickered at the titles. Never mind. She walked down, and used her stolen ID to get a large dinner. Then she walked across to the parking lot. Some gyps pulled in and parked. She focused on the last driver, sank deeply enough into her mind to stand in for the man who took the keys, accepted them, and sent her off thinking she was done for the day.
Question trotted back to the gyp and sat in the driver's seat. She'd seen Roxy and the other drivers do this. How hard could it be?
***
When Never woke, the first thing she thought was that she'd lost track of her books. The second, that she was alone. Or could their machines be watching her? She stirred and brought a hand up to the pillow. Rubbed it slightly to fix the charm to the material. An illusion of her, just as she was. Then she warped light and rolled off onto the floor as quickly as possible, so the transition was as brief as possible. Hmm, she was still in her orange one-piece, barefoot, and now with a f
ancy bracelet, metal with a green light. Too tight to remove. She could deform the metal parts of it, but perhaps not yet.
:: Question? ::
:: About time! Are you all right? ::
:: Yes. That drug they gave me put me to sleep eventually. Are you still free? ::
:: Yep. I have checked the gate schedule. Dallas Twelve fifty-three has been moved up half a day. They will be going in four hours. I have a gyp, and I'm scouting. Is there any way you can get out? ::
:: I'll work on that. ::
She was stiff and sore and her mouth tasted horrible. The door was locked, something electronic that Question could get through in a moment. The clear substance looked something like glass, but was more organic, somehow. Feeling carefully, she saw where the bolts entered it, from floor and ceiling. She nudged the material mentally, but it resisted her. The bolts themselves were something odd . . . all carbon, almost like a diamond, but in long strings so small it hurt to try and look at them. She couldn't seem to get them to do anything. All right. She wasn't going to escape until someone came and opened this door. She maneuvered herself back into her illusion, and ended it. Time to let them know she'd woken up.
She stretched, sat up and blinked around the room. The jail cell. She used the toilet, washed hands and face and rinsed out her mouth. Obviously the people weren't in too big of a hurry to question her again.
She sat cross-legged on the floor and closed her eyes. She could feel the Sun and Moon. Sunrise. There were more people to the right . . . The pattern of people led her to believe she was in the same long plain building. One level below ground. Two men were approaching her. The door of her cell slid open as they reached it.
"Good morning, Princess. Let's go have another chat." The man who had done the talking yesterday entered, with another.
She opened her eyes and started to stand. They grabbed her by the arms and lifted her. Trying to intimidate? Poor sods didn't realize that touching her made energy drains much easier. Speaking of which, she soaked up power from the Earth with her bare feet, and made no attempt to look for her shoes as she was manhandled out of the cell and down a corridor. Another glass door, locked, with a guard on the other side. A buzz sounded and the door slid open just long enough to march her through. The next door had lots of people coming and going through it. A brief wait, for an ID check, then she was allowed to pass. They took an elevator up two floors. Their minds were alert, concentrated on her, and watching all around for danger. Did they expect a rescue attempt?
She was marched into what must be a conference room. Now all of her stuff was laid out on the long table. And the books were there. Five other people, standing around, not sitting in the chairs pushed under the table. Conversing low voiced. She flicked her fingers to augment her hearing.
"Is it time to get rough?" The speaker looked to an older man.
"Oh, maybe just verbally, to see how she responds. She's very unwary, to be a trained agent. She may be a quick civilian pickup. We want her controllers." The old man was studying her impersonally. No squeamishness there, just calculation.
"Maybe we can bribe her with some breakfast." Young man, nervous. Worried that his already upset stomach might not be up to what was coming.
Never eyed her books. She'd like to take them with her.
One of the women turned and thumped the stack.
"I don't understand why she wants these. What use could they be to the One World? They're more like what a very well educated Native might want, to research us."
Very perceptive lady.
The older man shook his head. "Look at the genetic engineering. Don't fool yourself. She's a Oner, whatever her job."
The woman moved off, and the old man approached Never. "Very interesting isotope ratios in that diamond. Never, from Ash. It doesn't seem to match any known source. Now why might that be?"
"Because my world is such a recent discovery that our mines aren't known t'you. They belong t'us, not t'you."
"If true, they'll belong to us soon enough."
Never nodded. "Yes, I've heard that you are a world of thieves. That you claim rights above all others. That is not legal behavior, on my world, in my kingdom."
"A kingdom with fair laws? Isn't that an oxymoron?"
"No, t'king and all citizens are equally restricted by the law. If they kill someone they are tried. If they are convicted they are stripped of titles and sent t'prison."
That brought snickers of disbelief.
They are too corrupt themselves to believe in honesty.
One woman shrugged. "You said yesterday you knew a Nelson Manrique. Are you talking about a geologist? Dr. Nelson Manrique of Exstar Exploration?"
"Exstar Exploration? I don't know what that is."
"Yeah, I'll bet. We'll track him down, even if he's out on one of their mining worlds. We had an auction less than a year ago, lots of new worlds, but I don't believe any of them had natives. So if you're trying a scam it won't work." She paused and watched Never. "Are you claiming to be a Native of a new world?"
"I was born on the world that Nelson Manrique is exploring now."
"Is it a colony of One World?" The old man moved closer.
"No."
"And these two Wizards. From Scoone and Verona, you say. Are those places through a gate, like the one you took to get here?"
"No. Those are other countries on my world."
The door buzzed, two men in uniform entered.
Never observed the instant polarization of the Earthers. Whoever these people were, they did not like the military. A different level of government? Or are my captors not governmental at all?
"You are government?" she asked.
Heads jerked around indignantly, as if surprised she could speak without prompting.
"We're all government here." One of the uniforms answered. Dark hair, grey eyes, average looking. She tried, and to her surprise, failed to read him. His thoughts were a faint buzzing, incoherent beneath direct sensory input processing. "The Army serves the World Council through our Commander-in-Chief, the President of Earth." He lifted a shoulder to indicate the people around the room. "They serve the Gate Authority, that controls everything around here. But the Authority also answers to the World Council."
Nice. A local authority responsible to the parliament, an Army commanded by their equivalent of the king. Oh yes. They might all be government, but they were not pulling in harness. Maybe she could get some honest answers.
"She's under our authority."
"For now. We're just here to observe." The other soldier's eyes swung back to her. "We have so little information on the One World."
"I tried t'tell them yesterday that I did not know anything about t'One World. I'm afraid I will be unable t'assist you."
Her questioner from yesterday stepped up and slapped her. She blinked away tears from the impact, and reached into his mind and started making suggestions while weakening his resistance. He walked to the table and picked up her books. "These books are important to you, aren't they?" His people frowned, this wasn't how they expected the man to act. He handed her the stack of books. "You were willing to trade a very large diamond for them. Are you willing to trade information?"
She suggested he step back, cross his arms and wait, as if for an answer. She wiggled the fingers of her left hand to throw an illusion of herself stepping forward, while she warped light and stepped back. Not smoothly enough.
They jumped for her.
And collided through the illusion, as she ducked away and sidestepped smartly. A few more illusions, and a few chairs pulled out from the table, to trip people. The hard-to-read soldier backed up and flattened against the door. One man bumped, then grabbed her. She tossed a stun spell and dropped him. Jumped over him as the others closed in.
Burning pain in her wrist. Her grasp on the light warp wavered. She held it, tears running down her face. Clutched the books. She ducked between people trying to fence her in physically. The light on the bracelet was red.
She reached into the metal parts and they flowed, lengthened. She slipped the bracelet off, dropped it in a man's pocket. Hissed a bit at the painful burn on her wrist. Time to stop being "nice." These people need a lesson in magic.
She climbed invisibly up onto the table, tossed an illusion of her own features onto one woman, stunned the first two men to grab her. When the poor woman went down under a mile of men, Never jumped down and felt the back wall. Paint, plaster and paper over an inch of gypsum, compressed. Ribs of metal, far enough apart for her to slip between. No problem. She laid an illusion across the wall as she molded it around her, and backed through a thin space, another gypsum board at her back. It yielded to her, and she healed the first gypsum sheet as she kept backing through the other.
In the new room, three people were staring at the gypsum in dismay.
At least they didn't see me. Never walked to the door and turned the knob. Not locked. She opened it and walked out.
Now she just needed out. Never wound between people, looking for stairs, and turned toward natural looking light. She was at the building entrance, on a balcony, plenty of stairs, but also plenty of scuttling guards. No loud alarm, but obviously they were controlling the entrance. She walked down a hallway paralleling the front of the building, tried a knob. The door wouldn't budge for her. Two women walked out of the next room, she sprinted to grab and squeeze through the closing door. Behind her, she heard alarms, and doors slamming closed. She was in a small office, no windows, an open door on the other side. It led to a bigger office. Nobody home. She stepped around a desk and touched the wall. Gypsum sheet over the concrete of the outer wall. "No. Problem." She put the books down with a frown. A quick hunt of the office turned up a flimsy sack with holes for holding. It would have to do. She slid the books in, then turned to deal with the wall.
She called up the feeling of the slash spell and ran her finger around a square, pulled the gypsum off the wall. Cast an illusion through the wall, and tried to hold it as she cut the square deeper. The concrete square fell outward. She cursed, trying to catch it with a levitation spell, and her illusion quivered. She reinforced the illusion, grabbed her books and climbed through, feet first, to dangle at the stretch of her arms. Hold the light warp. Hold the illusion. Mold cement for a toe hold. She sighed as the strain eased on her arms. She was only one floor up, but people were running toward the concrete chunk. She molded hand and toe holds as quickly as she could, healing them behind her, as she crabbed sideways away from the guards below. The bag of books swung and thumped against her right arm, the holes in the sack stretching, but holding. She got clear of the guards and dropped to the manicured lawn. She trotted away, as more vehicles pulled up, soldiers leaping out. She was beyond most of them and dodged the few between herself and the sidewalk.