Dirty Mirror

by R S Penney

  He pressed his palm to the scanner and let it take a reading. After that, he typed in his code. Please, please work… If it didn't, then he'd gone to a lot of trouble – including forging Larani's credentials – for nothing.

  The doors slid apart.

  The cell was dark with only moonlight coming in through the window. Ben was suddenly apprehensive about the prospect of being in a confined space with a person who could snap his neck within seconds. True, the collar prevented her from using any of her fancier powers, but she was still deadly.

  “Lights!” he ordered.

  The cell lit up, revealing a small table with chairs, a nightstand and a bed along the wall to his left. Isara was under the covers, clearly unhappy to have been disturbed from what looked like a peaceful slumber.

  She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest, her head hanging as she tried to wake up. The woman's shoulders were bare. Bleakness take her, was she naked under there? “I normally enjoy company,” she said in a voice remarkably similar to Jena's. The only real difference was the accent. “But perhaps you could come back at a more civilized hour.”

  She looked up at him.

  Ben stepped forward.

  He pressed his lips into a thin line and held the woman's gaze without flinching. “I want to ask you some questions,” he said, surprised by the firmness in his voice. “And I figure now is as good a time as any.”

  Isara's mouth stretched into a yawn, and she shook her head like a dog trying to get water out of its fur. “Oh, very well,” she muttered under her breath. “I suppose I could do with a little more entertainment.”

  She got out of bed and let the covers fall off her body, padding across the room with no concern at all for her lack of clothing.

  Ben looked at the wall.

  It was a good wall, sturdy and well constructed. It wasn't as though he was bothered by the female form, but this woman was a near-perfect copy of Jena Morane. It felt like he was peeping on his friend and disrespecting her memory at the same time.

  Of course, Isara noticed his embarrassment and froze in the act of putting on her pants. “Are we having difficulties, Tanaben?” she asked. “Maybe we should conduct the interview like this?”

  Ben scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Just put your damn clothes on,” he said, moving deeper into the room. “The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you can go back to sleep.”

  Isara was doubled over in a pair of track pants, pulling a t-shirt over her body. Her head popped through the neck-hole, her short hair a mess. “Yes, I would prefer to remain undisturbed.”

  “Well, then-”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Isara studied Keli for a long moment. “I see you plan to violate the privacy of my thoughts,” she said. “You're welcome to try.”

  Bleakness take that woman! She knows!

  Gliding forward with her arms swinging, Keli smiled down at herself. “So, you've heard of me,” she said. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised that one of Slade's minions is so well informed, but how-”

  “I slaughtered half that ship to free you,” Isara said. “All so that you could make trouble for me. It's rare for something to upset one of the Inzari, but you've developed a talent for causing trouble. Watching you flee across that beach…quite satisfying.”

  “You!” Keli shouted.

  “You know her?” Ben spluttered.

  His companion stepped forward with her fists clenched, her teeth bared like some she-wolf who wanted to rip into the throat of an unsuspecting sheep. “Your doppelganger put me on that ship.”

  Isara covered her lips with three fingers, her eyes slowly widening. “And I freed you,” she said. “Fitting, no?”

  “We don't have time for this,” Ben growled.

  “No, indeed!” Isara exclaimed. “You're much too busy violating my rights. Well, let's be on with it then!”

  Ben felt his face heat up, sweat beading on his forehead. “Bleakness take subtlety,” he growled at Keli. “Do whatever you have to do. Rip through her defenses. Leave her a vegetable if you have to.”

  Tanaben gave his permission – and Keli had to admit that she had no love for the woman who had gleefully watched while one of the Overseers tried to kill her – but she hesitated just the same. Oh, she was willing to do whatever was necessary to survive, but she took no joy in inflicting pain. The men in that base had made her do it to Raynar over and over. She had no love for the boy, but that didn't mean she wanted to harm him.

  And now he's dead…

  Isara just stood there with her back to the window, half-dressed and smiling like a teenage girl who had caught her best friend in the closet with a boy. “Well, Keli?” she mocked. “Will you take your revenge?”

  Keli focused.

  She had grown so used to blocking out her telepathic awareness; the new sensations were overwhelming at first. When she threw all of her strength against the other woman's defenses, the symbiont reacted.

  It wasn't the focused, deliberate resistance that she had encountered when disabling that poor young Keeper on Station Twelve. A Nassai's mind was orderly, disciplined. This was pure rage, feral thrashing. The effect was the same however, she had to work to get through the cloud of fog that obscured Isara's thoughts.

  Isara crossed her arms, smiling down at herself. She shook her head slowly. “Is that really the best you can do, Keli?” she said. “Perhaps Slade was wrong to feel intimidated by your abilities.”

  “Don't listen to her,” Tanaben murmured.

  Keli tuned him out; the man's encouragement was worse than useless, and she did not need the distraction. Every time she pressed her attack, the Nassai – or whatever it was – resisted with violent emotions that turned her stomach.

  Keli pushed.

  The symbiont resisted, but she was able to punch a hole in the wall of fog, a crack through which light spilled forth. Memories flooded her mind before she could make any sense of them, and then the light was gone.

  Keli fell hard on her ass, raising a hand to her temple instinctively. A groan that she couldn't hold back sounded strained even to her own ears. “She's strong…That symbiont she carries won't let me through.”

  To her surprise, Isara sank to her knees on the floor and reached out to grab Keli's face with both hands. The woman stared into her eyes as if she thought she might find gold within them. “If you want to know about me,” Isara said. “All you have to do is ask. I'm an open book.”

  “Why did the Overseers clone Jena?” Tanaben demanded.

  “Ask Hunter,” Isara said. “I've already answered this.”

  “You will tell me-”

  The cell door's opened, and Keli sensed a new presence in the room. A presence that she could identify without having to look. Larani Tal had come down here to see what they were up to.

  And she wasn't happy.

  “You know,” Larani said, “when someone presents orders from me that look a little suspect, they usually call me to confirm.”

  Ben shivered.

  “I think we should talk, Mr. Loranai.”

  Chapter 23

  “I wish I had an answer for you, Larani.”

  The head of the Justice Keepers stood behind the desk in her office, her face a thundercloud that threatened to spit lightning. It was all Ben could do not to groan. This was the woman who had given him a chance after he'd been convicted of a crime. And he had let her down.

  Ben sat in a chair with his hands on his thighs, trying his best to collect himself. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “But we need to know what Isara knows, and I don't see any way to get her to tell us willingly.”

  Backing away from the desk, Larani scowled and shook her head. “Isara may be a criminal, maybe even a monster,” she said in a voice like ice. “But she's still human, and forcibly scanning a prisoner is a gross violation of their rights.”

  “Oh, come on, Larani!”

  “You're on thin ice as it is, Mr. Lorenai.”

  Before he realize
d what he was doing, Ben stood up and leaned forward with his hands on the desk. He stared the woman down as best he could. “You can't be serious,” he said. “That woman gave up her rights a long time ago.”

  He didn't want to say it, but Larani understood. The only way to deal with Isara – the only way to be sure – was a bullet to the head.

  For a brief few seconds, there was silence while Larani stared blankly ahead with a face made out of granite. “Council may agree with you,” she said. “They do not seem to care what I do with her, but I am still a Justice Keeper and bound by a code of ethics!”

  “I can't believe I'm hearing this!”

  Ben turned away from the desk, marching toward the door with his fists clenched. It was all he could do not to scream! Keepers and their codes of honour! Even Jena, the most reasonable of them, still got prickly on certain issues. It was why he'd never wanted a symbiont. Too much rigid thinking.

  “What do you expect, Tanaben?”

  He looked up to find Keli standing next to the door, yawning and then covering her mouth with one hand. “She's a two-soul,” Keli went on. “If I thought Keepers were able to do what was necessary, I wouldn't have fled Station Twelve.”

  “Ah yes,” Larani said. “Ms. Armana.”

  The head of the Keepers stepped out from behind her desk, sighing with frustration as she made her way across the room. “The x-factor in this equation,” she said. “I would think you would understand by now that rules here are a little different from what you're accustomed to?”

  “And what, pray tell, am I accustomed to?”

  Ben could only see the back of Larani's head, but he knew that withering glare of hers all too well. It had been directed at him more than once. “Telepaths are afforded a great deal of latitude on Antaur,” Larani said. “Isn't that so?”

  “Maybe it is,” Keli answered. “But I didn't spend most of my life on Antaur. The rules to which I am accustomed say that I will perform feats of telepathy when instructed to do so, or my captors will shock me again.”

  “You won't perform them at all here,” Larani rasped. “Not without the expressed consent of anyone involved.”

  The smile on Keli's face was positively wolfish. She wasn't afraid, not even a little bit. “And how do you propose to enforce that particular restriction?” she asked. “Even if you monitored me, would your people even know if I misused my talent?”

  “You certainly did so tonight.”

  Ben squeezed his eyes shut, a growl rumbling in his throat. “Enough!” he shouted, striding forward until he was right beside Larani. “This gets us nowhere. We still have to decide how to handle Isara.”

  At his side, Larani stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her head bowed as she fought off a grimace. “Jack has already gotten quite a bit of valuable intelligence from her,” she said. “I have faith in my people.”

  Doubling over with arms crossed, Keli shook her head. “Of course you do!” she said through a fit of laughter. “Leyria's terrifying interrogation techniques. Why, if she doesn't talk, you might send her to bed without her supper.”

  “That's it. You're both dismissed.”

  Keli snorted as she turned quickly and made her way to the door with a spring in her step. “Mark my words, Larani,” she said on her way out. “One day, these principles you cling to so rigidly are going to be the end of you.”

  Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, Ben sighed as he reluctantly followed the telepath. “I'm sorry,” he said softly. “For what it's worth, Larani, I never wanted to let you down.”

  “Mr. Loranai.”

  He turned around.

  Larani's brows were drawn together as she shook her head. “Your services are no longer needed,” she said. “Your access codes have been disabled, and I must ask you to stay out of restricted zones of this building.”

  “I understand.”

  Once again, he'd broken the system and paid the price for it. He had come to like having Larani's respect; now, that was gone. This was his life, the life of a man who just couldn't do what was expected of him. Maybe Darrel had been right to end it.

  Stirring her drink with a straw – it was a habit her mother had never been able to squelch – Anna watched the ice cubes swirl around in a mixture of vodka and orange juice. Not much vodka; Seth wouldn't appreciate it if she got drunk. She had never really been the sort of woman who regretted her inability to imbibe. The experience of sharing her life with a Nassai was more than worth it, and…Well, she kind of liked being a bad-ass.

  But these last few months had seen more than a few nights where Anna had wished that she could drown her problems in alcohol. Jena was dead; her friendship with Jack was in ruins; she had broken not one but two men's hearts. And now, on top of everything else, Isara was perverting the memory of everything Jena stood for.

  Shelves on the wall behind the bar counter were lit up to display liquor bottles, but the bottles were empty and just for show. This place was automated with drinks prepared out of sight.

  All around her, she sensed people – some congregating at the small, square-shaped tables on this side of the room, others moving about on the dance floor. The music was fast and upbeat, and she might have considered joining those people if she didn't feel like pulling a pillow over her head and hiding from the world.

  Anna bit her lip, strands of blue hair falling over her cheeks. She grimaced and shook her head. “You're the life of the party, Lenai,” she muttered. “Keep this up, and a funeral might just break out in here.”

  The silhouette of a tall and well-muscled man came up behind her, pausing just a few feet away. By the way he was looking at her, she could tell that he was working up the nerve to say something. “So-”

  Tilting her head back, Anna rolled her eyes. “Whatever it is you're about to say,” she began. “I'm not the one you want to try that line on.”

  She swiveled around on the bar stool.

  The man who stood before her was quite handsome, with dark skin and a jaw that could have been chiseled from granite. His short hair was trimmed close, and he looked gorgeous in a gray, high-collared shirt.

  He lifted a glass of something that looked like whiskey to his lips, took a sip and then cleared his throat. “I see,” he replied. “Then I suppose the best thing I can do is just leave you be.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I'm not disappointed.”

  Tilting her head back to stare at him, Anna felt her eyebrows climb slowly upward. “Oh no?” she asked. “That's a little rude, don't you think?”

  “Disappointment implies that you failed to live up to my expectations,” the man explained. “I expected to learn that you were unhappy. I could tell that much from fifty paces away. I guess I'm just the sort of man who feels compelled to do something when he sees someone suffering.”

  Without another word, he turned to go and lifted his glass to his lips. Maybe it was months on Earth that made her do it – fending off the constant unwanted advances of men who thought they could persuade her with a little more persistence – but she blurted out a response before she knew what she was saying. “That's it?”

  Her would-be suitor stopped in his tracks, but he didn't turn back to her. “You made it clear you aren't looking for company,” he said. “I'm not inclined to push.”

  Once again, she was blushing, and this time, it felt like the sun had come out of the sky to take up residence on the tip of her nose. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm just used to men who have trouble with the word no.”

  This time, he did turn around, and he stood there with his mouth open, blinking as if he'd never seen a woman before. “Where do you find these men?” he asked. “Don't the authorities do something if they harass you in that way?”

  “It doesn't work that way on Earth.”

  “You're Terran?” he asked. “You sound like you're from Iyra Province.”

  The man had a good ear.

  Anna stood up with a sigh, crossin
g her arms and frowning down at herself. “I grew up in Iyra Province,” she explained. “But I spent a few months working on Earth, and the culture is very different there.”

  The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sounds like one very harrowing experience,” he said, nodding to her. “I've read the odd news story about the differences between our culture and Earth's, but…”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Well, I'd love to…” The man stiffened and then turned his face away from her. “Never mind. Have a nice evening.”

  Anna grinned, a touch of heat in her face. She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “You can stay if you want,” she said. “I'll tell you all about Earth and its insane politics.”

  “I'd like that.”

  “My name is Anna,” she offered.

  “Devin.”

  A little while later, she was sitting at one of the square tables with her elbows on its surface, her chin resting on the knuckles of both fists. “It gets worse,” she said, eyebrows rising. “Then they tell me my judgment is impaired by volatile female hormones because I don't want to shoot a kid while he's under the influence of Overseer technology.”

  Devin lifted the glass to his lips, closed his eyes and drank the last of the whiskey in one big gulp. “You're kidding me,” he said after a moment. “And they were eager to kill this kid because-”

  “Because he was black.”

  “Like me?”

  “What you need to understand,” she began, “is that things are very different on Earth. People like you are trying to end the oppression inflicted on them by people like me.”

  “That's…absurd.”

  It was, but Anna had come to realize that many people looked at Earth's particular forms of bigotry through a very Leyrian-centric lens. The concept of race didn't exist on her world in the same way it did on Earth, which wasn't to say that Leyrian history wasn't littered with its own forms of bigotry.