by R S Penney
“That's highly unlikely, sir.”
“I know that. But we're running low on options.”
Savouring the aroma of her coffee, Telixa contemplated the young Justice Keeper that she watched through a window in the observation room. He was asleep now, lying face-down on the floor of his cell. Almost innocent.
Telixa wasn't entirely sure what to make of him; she would have expected a caged animal that would exploit any weakness, take any opportunity to wound his captors, but the peacemaker who fed and tended to the wounds of men who had attacked him earlier that same day? That was something else entirely.
The observation room was empty except for herself and two guards in full tactical gear who stood on either side of the door. Both were stoic and still, as silent as the grave. You might have forgotten their presence if not for the occasional scuff of shoes on tiles as one or the other inevitably shifted positions. Try as they might, humans were not built to emulate the behaviour of robots.
A buzz from the intercom was followed by Lieutenant Sakae's voice through the speaker. “Here's here, Admiral.”
Blowing out a breath, Telixa closed her eyes and scratched her forehead with the knuckle of one fist. “Send him in,” she replied. This was not a meeting that she had been looking forward to.
She turned around in time to see the door slide open for a tall, lean man who wore unrelieved black from head to toe. Shoes, pants, high-collared shirt: all dark as midnight. Raven hair in a long ponytail was pulled back from a tanned face with hollow cheeks and tilted eyes. “Admiral,” he said in a tone of clipped formality.
Telixa reclined with hands folded over her stomach, her lazy smile disabusing the man of any notion that she found him intimidating. “Grecken Slade,” she said. “Former head of the Justice Keepers, and now – inexplicably – an ally of my government.”
“At your service, Admiral,” Slade cooed. “If I recall correctly, you mentioned your desire to study someone who has Bonded a symbiont in our last correspondence.”
“If you've come to facilitate that request, you're too late.”
He stepped forward, clasping his hands together behind himself and keeping his face as smooth as arctic ice. “So I'm told,” he purred. “Imagine my surprise when, after going to great lengths to provide you with a test subject, I discover that you already have a Justice Keeper in captivity.”
Rising gracefully from her chair, Telixa moved forward at a measured pace. “Now, now, Grecken,” she teased. “There's no need to feel spurned. I'm more than happy to have two of them.”
Having a second Keeper at her disposal would certainly make things easier. So far, she had been forced to exercise care when sending her people in to test the young man in that cell. How many enemies could he handle at once? Five? Ten? Telixa burned to know the answer, but if she pushed the Keeper too hard, he might die in the process.
A second Keeper would remove the need to proceed with caution. If one died, she would still have the other. Of course, she would have to keep them separated. Together, they posed too much of a risk. If they were to work in concert-
A new thought flashed through her mind like lightning across the summer sky. A good officer paid attention to detail, especially to language. People often revealed more than they intended. “Wait,” she said. “You didn't call him a Justice Keeper.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She paced a circle around Slade with one hand clasping her chin, tapping her lips with her index finger. “The test subject you brought,” she began. “You referred to him as 'someone who had Bonded a symbiont,' not as a Justice Keeper.”
“How very observant of you,” Slade murmured. “You are correct. The subject that I brought is not a Justice Keeper.”
“So, he has no allegiance to the one that we captured?”
“None whatsoever.”
Stopping between Slade and the window, Telixa rounded on him and let a sly smile reveal her satisfaction. “Excellent,” she said. “It will be much easier to gather useful data if I can pit them against each other.”
With cruel, quiet laughter, Slade shook his head. “That might be unwise,” he said. “Justice Keepers are notoriously reluctant to engage in violence. My subordinate, on the other hand, was trained to kill on command.”
“Our friend down there may surprise you,” Telixa countered. “He has been most effective against my people.”
Intrigued by the comment, Slade took a few cautious steps forward, bracing his hands on the console beneath the window. He leaned forward to peer through the glass. Suddenly, the man stiffened.
Slade's head whipped around with teeth bared, cheeks flushed to a deep red. “Kill him.” It was not a suggestion or a warning. No, it was a bloody command, and for some reason, the man expected to be obeyed.
“Why?”
Slade faced her with renewed calm, the colour fading from his cheeks. Just like that, he was a still pond in winter once again. “That is no ordinary Justice Keeper that you hold,” he said. “That man is exceedingly dangerous.”
Telixa seated herself on one of the unused chairs, folding her hands and giving him the cool stare of a captain addressing a subordinate. “Well, you'll have to forgive me, but I am unwilling to squander an opportunity to learn simply to assuage your fears. We may never get another chance to study a Justice Keeper.”
“I have given you another subject.”
“Yes,” Telixa agreed. “And the fact that you are so willing to part with this subject and so eager to be rid of our guest down there tells me that the Justice Keeper has much more to offer in terms of usable intelligence.”
In two quick strides, Slade was towering over her. She almost tumbled backward out of her chair, but Telixa had endured her share of life-threatening situations. She would not be bullied on her own ship. “This isn't a request,” Slade insisted. His tone promised pain if she refused to comply. “You will kill the Justice Keeper immediately.”
Telixa didn't have to look to know what happened next. The slight thump of boots on floor tiles told her that her guards had leaped into action. Two red dots on Slade's shirt indicated their willingness to protect their CO at any cost.
Half a second later, she heard the low whir of the door sliding open, and she knew there would be three more armoured officers standing in the entryway. She had insisted on drills to prepare for this very moment, instilled within her crew the very same instincts that had allowed her to rise through the ranks. She knew how they would respond. True, the bullets would be flying right over her head, but Telixa had enough confidence in her officers' marksmanship.
Setting elbows on her thighs, Telixa laced her fingers and rested her chin on top of them. Her smile belonged on a five-year-old who had just convinced Mommy to let her have that extra piece of candy. “Are we forgetting our surroundings?” she asked. “This is my ship, Grecken; you don't give orders here.”
“Then I will kill the Justice Keeper myself.”
Telixa felt her eyes widen, then shook her head slowly. “You can try,” she said. “If you are willing to fight the hundred security officers that stand in your way. That glass is bullet-proof, by the way. I sincerely doubt that even you would be able to break through the window. But by all means, try. It would provide a wonderful opportunity to gauge the limits of a Justice Keeper's abilities, wouldn't you agree?”
Slade looked down at the glowing red dots on his chest, then up at the guards in the doorway. His eyes narrowed for just a moment before he relaxed. “Very well. But I will not forget this.”
“Escort Mr. Slade back to his shuttle,” Telixa commanded her officers. “And see to it that he departs without any further…complications.”
“Yes, ma'am. And the…prisoner that he delivered?”
“Put him in a cell for now,” Telixa said offhandedly. “I'm sure we can come up with some way to make use of him.”
He dreamed of Anna, of an open window through which sunlight flowed along with the sound of birds chirping, o
f silver rays falling upon her as she lay snuggled under the covers. She turned her face toward him; her eyes opened. “Morning.”
The image was stomped out long before he was ready to let go, suffocated by the first drips of consciousness seeping into his mind. He struggled to hold on, but bit by bit, he became aware of his surroundings.
Jack was stretched out on his stomach with his face buried in folded arms, groaning in displeasure. “Not yet,” he whimpered. “Reality, you are such an asshole.”
The door to his cell slid open; he didn't bother looking, but his mind was filled with the image of two armoured guards marching in and taking position on either side of the entrance. No, he wouldn't react. He was just going to lie here and pretend to be asleep. It was one more act of defiance.
The pair of guards was followed by a short woman who wore her brown hair in a bob. Jack recognized her as the ship captain who had greeted him in the shuttle bay. Well then…It seemed he was making enough of a fuss to merit attention from the higher-ups. Squeaky wheels and all that.
He looked up and did nothing to stifle the yawn that made his jaw ache. Then he smacked his lips a few times. “Morning…” Getting to his feet took longer than it should have, but he was in no hurry.
The captain nodded.
With some furtive glances at their commanding officer, the pair of guards backed out of the room, but for some reason the door didn't close. They reappeared thirty seconds later each man carrying a plastic chair.
They set the chairs down against the wall, about five feet away from the door, and then ducked into the hallway again. One man gave Jack a threatening glare before he left. Well, screw that guy! Jack Hunter was perfectly sociable when you didn't cage him or try to shoot him.
He took a step toward the chairs, but the two guards came back once again. This time, one was carrying a small table and the other a tray that supported a teapot and two cups. They set that up and then departed, the door sliding shut behind them. All the while, the ship's captain just stood there, watching him like a hawk.
Clapping his hands noisily, Jack smiled and shook his head. “Impressive,” he said. “You've done a superb job of demonstrating your authority by forcing your subordinates to perform menial labour. If I were a nineteenth-century British lord, I would be fawning right now.”
The woman inclined her head as she studied him, arching one dark eyebrow. She said nothing, gave no indication that she understood him, but when the silence started to feel uncomfortably awkward, she gestured to the table.
Jack nodded.
He shuffled over and chose a seat with its back to the door, setting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers. Let her take note of that. He wasn't at all worried about the prospect of her goons coming in and surprising them.
The captain slid into the chair across from him, a slight frown on her face as she watched him from the corner of her eye. “Have some tea,” she said, though her drawling speech patterns smushed the words together. “Yes…I know some Leyrian.”
Jack felt his eyebrows rise, then shook his head. “So, you've understood me all this time,” he barked. “And instead of trying to open up a dialogue, you thought it best to lock me away in here.”
“A dialogue?”
“We could have worked this out peacefully.”
The woman turned her glare upon him, and for an instant, her brown eyes flashed with rage. “You seek an accord with my people.” Damnation! Did she have to slur every word? “And yet you fire on our ships.”
“I'm pretty sure you fired first.”
Instead of answering, the woman lifted the teapot and filled a cup with piping-hot liquid that left a tangy scent in the air. Jack's stomach rumbled. He was suddenly aware of having given away his dinner yesterday. “Take,” she said, offering him the cup.
With his elbows on the table, Jack covered his mouth with both hands. He shut his eyes and breathed in slowly. “Given the circumstances, I'm sure you can understand why I don't want to drink that.”
The captain looked puzzled, deep wrinkles lining her brow as she tried to sort out the meaning of his words. She seemed to get the gist, however, because she cradled the cup in both hands and took a sip.
“Not poisoned,” Jack said. “Got it.”
“You refuse to eat?”
He leaned back with hands folded behind his head and showed her the cheekiest grin he could manage. “I wouldn't say that,” Jack replied. “I just thought that Novol and Edan could use a hot meal. How are they?”
“It will not work.”
“What won't?”
Hiding her face behind the large cup, the captain slurped as she drank the tea. “You try to win the loyalty of my men,” she said. “They are trained. They will not betray their own people.”
Jack felt a lump of ice in his belly. This was like having five hundred bucks on the line and realizing that you were playing against a pool shark. His kindness toward Edan and Novol wasn't just a political ploy. He had felt responsible for them after tossing them around the room. But he would be lying if he said that he didn't hope a gesture of good faith might earn him some friends among the guards.
“Well then, why don't you and I get to know one another?” Jack suggested. “It's pretty clear that you're trying to determine the limits of my abilities. If an exchange of information will help…”
Jack stood up, placed a hand over his heart and bowed low with a flourish. “I am Jack Hunter,” he said. “Special Agent with the Justice Keepers, Denabrian Division. And it's lovely to meet you.”
She looked up at him through slitted eyes, no doubt pondering whether she wanted to accept his offer. “Telixa Ethran,” she said. “Third-tier Admiral of the Ragnosian Fleet.”
“An admiral! Impressive!”
“Your skills are also impressive.”
Jack sat down again, folding his hands in his lap, his head drooping as he tried to work up the nerve to ask a very difficult question. “So, now that we've got that out of the way, why are you trying to figure out how to kill Justice Keepers?”
When he looked up, Telixa Ethran was staring at him as if he had just asked why sunlight was warm. “Would you not do the same?” she inquired. “Would you not try to determine the weaknesses of your enemy?”
“Do we have to be enemies?”
“Now that the large SlipGates are open, your people have the ability to invade our space. It is no secret that the Leyrians disapprove of our ways. You will attempt to impose your values on us.”
Jack's grin was so fierce it made his jaw hurt. Try as he might, he just couldn't stop himself from laughing at her concerns. “Funny thing about that. I'm actually not Leyrian. In fact, I'm from Earth.”
“The lost homeworld of humanity.”
“Yes.”
A brief silence passed while Telixa waited for him to explain the relevance of that little tidbit. He let it stretch out a bit longer than he should have. Summer urged him to press on, but he wanted to give Telixa some time to consider the implications.
“If anyone has cause to fear Leyrian imperialism, it's my people,” Jack said. “We have no starships, no advanced weaponry, nothing to repel an invasion fleet that sets its sights on our little world.
“There are people on Earth who are terrified that, any day now, Leyrian ships will appear in our skies and start dropping troops onto our soil. But after five years, it never happened. Not once. Instead, they offered us assistance. Medicines to cure some of our worst diseases, methods of producing food in abundance. And they gave it freely, with no terms or conditions.”
Jack sat forward, held Telixa's gaze for a very long moment and then let his brow furrow. “If the Leyrians were the sort of people who imposed their values on others,” he began, “don't you think they would have done it to us?”
He could see it in her face; his arguments were having an effect. Maybe there was a chance that he could get out of this without more violence. Telixa blinked and then came back to herself. “I see
why Slade fears you.”
“Slade? What does he have to do with this?”
“Your skills in combat are impressive,” she went on, ignoring Jack's question. “But it is your mind that makes you dangerous.”
“Listen to me,” Jack pleaded. “Whatever Slade told you, he's lying. That's what he does. There's no reason why we have to-”
She cut him off by rising from her chair, directing a frown his way and then pacing to the door. To his surprise, the damn thing opened without Telixa having to do anything. Maybe someone was watching from the observation room.
Telixa paused in the doorway, turned her head and fixed narrowed eyes upon him. “You will be happy,” she said. “You will not be alone anymore.” Before Jack could ask what she meant, she was gone.
The door remained open, however. Just long enough for two guards to usher a man who walked with his head hanging into the cell. This guy was tall and slim with dark skin and buzzed hair. Something about him seemed familiar.
When he looked up, Jack recognized him. Those handsome features belonged to a man that he thought he would never see again. “Arin?” he stammered. “How the hell did they get their hands on you?”
Chapter 22
The door slid shut, leaving Jack alone with a man who, less than one year ago, had tried to kill him. Just when he thought his day couldn't get any worse. Arin seemed a bit out of it – like he wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up in this cell – but his eyes burned with hate when they settled on Jack. How exactly did the Ragnosians get their hands on one of Slade's lackeys?
Gaping at the other man, Jack forced his eyes shut and shook his head. “Okay, let's focus on solutions,” he said. “You're stuck in here; I'm stuck in here. If we work together, I'm sure we can find a-”
“You!”
Arin's face was flushed, his mouth twisted into a sneer of contempt. The confusion he had displayed mere moments ago vanished as if anger alone had snapped him back to full lucidity. “I had given up hope,” he spat. “But it seems the Inzari have offered me this one small mercy. At least I'll have the pleasure of thrashing you!”
