Rainscape

by Jaye Roycraft

  “Then it’s true.”

  The eyebrows lifted. “Yeah. Kewero was the richest, but it’s almost played out now. Dheru, for all its size, doesn’t yield much. And Sawel, well, Sawel is mostly for show. It’s too bad.”

  “But the Synergy survey that was done prior to renewal of the contract was a positive survey, wasn’t it?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Sure. It always is. Synergy surveys are a joke. See, the Syn has a big investment in this colony. They want to get everything out of the mines they can. So their surveys always show more potential than there actually is. If not Mother, some other company will bid for it. Mining companies know about the Syn surveys and that they’re taking a huge risk when they put in a bid. But sometimes the lode is there, and the risk pays off big.”

  “But this time Mother Lode signed off on the Synergy survey. Why would they do that if they know for sure the survey’s not accurate?”

  Kindyll shook his head, and blond strands of hair curved into his eyes. He brushed them back. “That I don’t know. A dispute over the survey would have pretty much guaranteed that Mother would not be awarded renewal of the contract.”

  “Wouldn’t that be preferable to renewing the contract knowing the mines will play out before the end of the contracted period?”

  He shrugged. “You would think so, and I would think so, but then, we’re honest people. Can’t say the same for the Company. Who knows? Maybe someone on the Mother survey team made a legitimate mistake. Even with all their technology, no one shrouds their secrets better than the ancient earth.”

  “What if the sign-off to the Syn survey was intentional, not a mistake?”

  “Well, then, the mines play out, and Mother loses money. Even without profits, they have to pay rights to the Synergy.”

  “Unless they can find a way to break the contract legally.”

  Kindyll tried to digest that. “I suppose. I don’t know much about the contracts.”

  “What if it could be proved that the sign-off was a fraud?”

  “You mean done on purpose and not a mistake?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, that would be pretty difficult, I think. All the Company surveyors are off-worlders. Normally, that is. Dais was on the survey team this last time. But he’s dead, so he . . .” Kindyll stopped. He wasn’t an investigator, but Dina could tell by his broken-off sentence that he understood the import of his words.

  She finished the thought for him. “So he can’t tell anyone that the Mother Lode survey was a fraud. How did he get on the survey team?”

  “One of the off-worlders got sick, and they needed a replacement. Dais had a lot of experience, like I said, and had even done some surveying on past jobs.”

  “There was nothing in his file about his being on the survey team, and nothing in any of the interviews.”

  Kindyll shrugged again, a small lift of his lean frame. “I told you. The Company is a closemouthed lot.”

  “Thank you, Kindyll. You’ve been more help than you can imagine.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am. I don’t know what I would have done if Rayn hadn’t taken me in. With everything that had happened, the job had soured for me. Even without the murders, it was nothing but politics. You could never trust anyone. The port was closed, but even if it had been open I don’t have any family to return to on Glacia. I would have probably just spent my contract bonus foolishly, feeling sorry for myself, if not for Rayn. I would do anything for him.”

  Dina felt a wave of affection for the man with the young face and the old eyes. “Kindyll, I never had a brother, but if I did, I’d want him to be you.” She reached over and gave him a quick hug. Unprofessional, she knew, but she was doing a lot of unprofessional things these days.

  She sent him to get Raethe, who returned and folded his long body into the seat next to Dina. He was tall, about Jon’s height, and with Jon’s coloring, but there the resemblance ended. Jon was like a well-cared-for hunting dog, while Raethe was like a lean, hungry wolf, all wariness, sinew, and muscle. Dina still didn’t feel comfortable with Raethe, in spite of Rayn’s faith in the man.

  “Why was your guild membership revoked?” she began.

  He looked away, then back at her, and gave a slight shrug of one shoulder. “One of the bosses caught me bad-mouthing Mother one night in the Furnace.”

  “What were you saying?”

  “I don’t remember all of it. I’d been drinking, but they claimed I was talking about yield, or the lack of it, I should say. Discussing yield is a big no-no.”

  “Who were you with in the Furnace at the time?”

  “Quite a few of the rats were there. I don’t remember who exactly.”

  “Was Kilist Marhjon there?”

  Rae hesitated, cocked his head, then lifted his brows a little in resignation. He looked her right in the eye. “I have a feeling, Miss, that you’re asking me questions you already have the answers to.”

  She ignored his remark. “Marhjon testified against you at your hearing, didn’t he?”

  “Kil was my friend. He testified because they put pressure on him. He didn’t want to lose his job. He had a family. I didn’t kill him, or any of the others.” Raethe’s voice raised slightly with the denial but was still under control.

  She redirected her questioning. “Do you remember seeing a knife at Sanctuary, a small, black pearl inlaid pocketknife?”

  “I remember seeing it and wondering whose it was. It didn’t look familiar.” His voice dropped again.

  “Do you know where it came from?”

  “No.”

  “Did you touch it?”

  He nodded. “To pick it up and look at it.”

  Dina drew a long breath and turned away. She had been probing Raethe as best she could while questioning him. She had detected no guilt, fear, or discomfort, but a strength and sadness so profound that it touched her deeply. When she turned back to Raethe, it was with new eyes.

  “Forgive me, Raethe. These were questions I had to ask.”

  “I understand. I’ve been through grilling a lot worse, believe me.”

  “I need your help, if you’re willing to give it.”

  The shaggy mane merely rose and fell.

  Dina continued questioning him, and he confirmed what Kindyll had told her about the mines playing out and how the surveys were done. She thanked him when she was finished, but didn’t hug him the way she had Kindyll. One doesn’t hug a wolf.

  After Sirkhek and Avarti left, Dina sat alone in the Oasis. It was still early in the afternoon, the hottest part of the day, but Dina had to see Rayn.

  Rayn, where are you?

  At a friends’ quarters in the city. He gave her the coordinates, and she was there ten minutes later.

  As he let her into the small room, her eyes met his, and her heart skipped a beat.

  Come to me.

  Half out of her jacket, she tugged at the remaining sleeve and threw the jacket to the floor. His power flowed over her like a midnight desert zephyr, dark and cold. Half a step later she was in his arms, trembling, her own wound tightly around his neck, as if he were a haven, not the storm itself. He kissed her, longer and harder than before, not a teasing kiss, but one that conveyed his need for her, until she moaned into his mouth. He released her slowly, but his power retracted in a heartbeat, and when she looked into the amber eyes, she thought she saw pain. The stillness she felt in the room felt unnatural.

  “What is it?” she asked quietly.

  “Nothing.” He turned away and sat down, then leaned forward and rubbed his temples with the heels of his palms.

  From the moment she had first probed his mind, she had suspected he lived with a kind of hurt she didn’t understand. She wondered if it was something he would ever willingly share with her. She k
new it wouldn’t do any good to press him, so she sat on the floor next to his chair and waited. Finally, he spoke, but it was only of the day’s events, not what she really wanted to hear.

  “Yes, Dyll and Rae were very helpful,” she replied to his inquiry. “I’m convinced that someone, or perhaps more than one person, at Mother Lode is responsible for the killings. It’s going to be difficult to find out who, though, and even more difficult to prove.”

  “So am I a marked man, or did your partner believe me?”

  “I don’t think he’s decided yet. Rayn . . .” She didn’t know what to say.

  He didn’t respond, but sat with his head tilted to one side and supported by his right hand. Dina looked up and studied his face, thinking that if she had a thousand years, she would never tire of gazing at the features. His hair was still tied back with loose strands falling forward from either side of the widow’s peak, and he hadn’t shaved. His appearance had a dark look which seemed to match his mood. Only a moment ago, fast in his arms, she had been as close to him as a lover. Now she felt far away from him.

  “Rayn. Tell me more about your life on B’harata,” she asked, not really expecting him to answer.

  As usual, he surprised her. “I was a misfit growing up. I wasn’t aggressive, and I didn’t practice the arts, so to speak. I much preferred to sit and watch the colors of the rain. I’m sure my father and my brothers were disappointed in me, thinking I was weak, but my mother understood. She knew I was strong, and she knew where my strengths lay. She was my defender. Anyway, I had but one friend, Tiryl. We were inseparable for a long time.”

  “What happened?”

  The wistful look on Rayn’s face hardened. “Tiryl made new friends as he got older. I wasn’t part of their group. To prove himself to his new friends, he set me up and tried to do what he could to harm me, in the usual B’haratan way. By using his mind to overpower mine. One of my older brothers, Flyr, was with me, discovered what was happening, and saved my life. Tiryl died, and his friends exacted their revenge by destroying Flyr instead of me.”

  “I’m sorry.” She knew “sorry” wasn’t in the B’haratan vocabulary, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “After that I vowed I’d never be betrayed like that again. With my father’s help, I started developing my talents. I spent every waking moment practicing and honing my skills. My father was pleased, but I think it made my mother sad, in spite of the fact I was now able to defend myself. One night I overheard my mother praying. She said, ‘My Raynga, don’t let him be deliberately cruel. This boy I love so well, don’t change him that much.’ No matter how long I live, I’ll always remember her words.”

  Dina didn’t know what to say or do. Her experience with men in this type of situation was almost nonexistent. She wasn’t sure what she would do to console a Glacian male in these circumstances, much less a male of a completely different culture. She untangled herself from the floor and moved to the back of his chair, then put her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against the side of his head. She closed her eyes and could detect the faint scent of mountain mint in his smooth hair. He brought his hands up to hold her forearms, and they stayed like that, neither of them speaking, for a long while.

  At last Rayn gently removed her arms from around his neck and rose. He ran two glasses of iced mocava, carried one back to her, then walked over to the small window and stood looking out.

  Dina knew she should be asking Rayn more about Gyn, but all she could think about was how much she wanted him. She set the glass down without taking a sip.

  “Rayn.”

  “Um.”

  Dina sensed she was in trouble. Rayn still seemed distracted, hardly aware of her presence. She proceeded anyway. “I want an answer to my question.”

  “What question?”

  Gods! Alee was right, she thought. For someone with his powers, he could be awfully dense. How could he possibly be unaware of her desire for him? No, he couldn’t be unaware. She took a deep breath. “What question? The question I know I haven’t been able to hide from your probes, Mr. All-knowing, since the day I met you. Can you make love to me?”

  He turned and looked at her, his face hard to read, then took a long swallow of mocava before replying. “I warned you might be disappointed by the answer. Are you prepared to face that?”

  Why was he playing games? She couldn’t imagine being disappointed by him. “I hardly think that will be the case,” she retorted, unable to keep the dryness from her voice.

  “What makes you think you know anything about the subject, much less how I make love?”

  The question stung more than the sharpness in his voice. “You’re right. I don’t have a lot of experience with men. But I know how I feel, how you make me feel, when I’m close to you.”

  He set his drink down on a nearby table. “Tell me about your first lover,” he said, almost casually.

  Had her declaration completely gone over his head? “You’re changing the subject. I want to be with you. I want to take the plunge.” Why was he being so obstinate?

  He blinked. “What?”

  “I told you I’d let you know when I’m ready. Well, I’m letting you know.”

  “You’re not ready.”

  The dispassionate reply angered her. “You seemed to think so two nights ago in the Furnace.”

  “I was playing with you. Tonight there are no games.”

  “No games? Then don’t talk in riddles.” But his words did more than frustrate her. They hurt, too. She knew their two encounters in the club had involved a healthy dose of flirting on both sides, but she also had thought there was more between them than that. She wished fervently that she’d had more close relationships with men. Did he really feel she wasn’t ready for him, or did he have no desire for her? She didn’t understand her own feelings much of the time, and she certainly didn’t understand how men felt. Then again, she thought, all the experience in the universe would never prepare her for dealing with one stubborn B’haratan.

  He turned away from her and paused, his head bent, one hand absently rubbing the stubble on his chin. He walked in a slow circle until he was once again facing her.

  “Look at me and tell me what you see,” came his soft request, stripped of any nuance of command or compelling power.

  “Why? I thought you said no games.”

  “It’s not a game,” he said patiently. “Just look at me and tell me exactly what you see.”

  She stared at him. Without the long hair framing his face, she concentrated more on his features. The lines were perfect. From the high cheekbones and strong jaw to the straight nose and full mouth, it was as if an artist had worked to find just the right balance of beauty and masculinity, sensitivity and strength. The golden eyes not even the most talented artist could have rendered. They were a gift from the gods.

  Even so, her frustration colored her response. “I see a man who’s too good-looking for his own good, with hair the color of mud after a rainstorm, eyes like dirty snow, and a body that won’t . . .”

  The rest of her description was cut off by his laugh. “That’ll do.”

  “So? What was the point of that?”

  His face fell back into its somber cast. “You didn’t say ‘I see a dens who’s too good looking for his own good.’ Why not?”

  She shrugged. “You can’t tell a dens by their appearance. They look like any other human.”

  “But you know I’m a dens.”

  Dina didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what he was getting at. What did this have to do with her wanting him?

  “You forget,” he continued. “You told me not long ago that you don’t ever forget what I am, but you do. I’m different from human males. My physiology is different from yours.”

  “You make love to Alessane.” It was almost an acc
usation.

  He closed his eyes, but hesitated only briefly in answering. “She’s not a telepath.”

  Dina didn’t know why those words should hurt so much. She had known from day one that Alessane had been his lover. “So?”

  “Your being a telepath complicates things. And there was no bond with Alee.”

  She shook her head. “I still don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “I’m simply saying you’re not ready. Trust me on this.”

  “Then teach me. Show me, talk to me,” she pleaded.

  “First tell me about your first lover.”

  Gods! He was stubborn. She could either storm out or talk about what he wanted to talk about. She chose the latter, but it was a difficult subject for Dina to discuss. She was silent for a moment, letting the memories surface, trying to fish out the right images and words. “It was eight years ago. I was in school. I didn’t have many friends, and no boyfriends.”

  At that, Rayn raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, plenty of men expressed interest in me, but it wasn’t really me they wanted. They wanted a pretty face or a nice body to show off to others, or just to make love to. Back then I didn’t know if my telepathic ability was a curse or a blessing. Most times it felt like a curse. It seemed like every time I probed someone, all I picked up was selfishness or dishonesty. So I rejected all the offers that came my way.”

  She drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Then Daar came into my life. He was a guest speaker in one of my classes. The day he gave his lecture, he never took his eyes off me. After the class he asked to have lunch with me. He was older than the others, and I thought he was different. He seemed genuinely interested in me.”

  “What happened?” Rayn asked softly.

  “We were lovers for several months. I adored him. I thought he cared about me, too. He told me he did. He was so attentive to my needs. No one else had ever been. I was ecstatic. I had finally found someone who cared for me. And then . . .” She stopped, not wanting to continue. Dina looked at Rayn again and wanted to curse him for demanding she talk about this.