Far Enough
Fletcher DeLancey
Heartsome Publishing
To those for whom a glimpse
was not enough.
* * *
Contents
Preface
Map
1. The summons
2. Pella-na-corsa
3. Summit view
4. Confession
5. Crossing the waterfall
6. Far enough
About the Author
Also by Fletcher DeLancey
Preface
After Uprising and before Alsea Rising, an event transpired which forever altered the relationships between Andira, Salomen, Ekatya, and Lhyn. Though it was referenced in Chapter 9 of Alsea Rising, the nature of that narrative did not allow for the full relating of this tale.
Far Enough begins five days after Salomen’s march through Blacksun, in the period when she was absent from the State House and could only wait for the politicians to finish what she had started. What Uprising did not show was how Lhyn and Rahel were called to account for their choice to hide the Bondlancer. That interview set off a chain reaction which eventually made history.
The history-making part of the story is told in Alsea Rising. These pages do not aspire to such lofty heights. Instead, they hold the small, quiet tale of a few days of peace, in which two hearts find new understanding.
For those who said, “I wish we could have seen how it happened,” this is my gift to you.
* * *
Fletcher DeLancey
November 2020
1
The summons
Lhyn Rivers settled her transport on the brick landing pad, powered off the engines, and closed her eyes as she listened to them spool down.
“Right,” she said aloud. “Time to pay the bill.”
As pep talks went, it was not one of her best. Several pipticks passed before she summoned the will to undo her harness and open the door, collapsing her cocoon of silence.
Blacksun Base was a busy place. Warriors of all ages strode along the paths between buildings, ignoring the rain that seemed as if it would never stop falling. Transports came and went at a steady clip. In the distance, she heard someone calling out commands immediately repeated by a chorus of voices—a group training in hand-to-hand combat techniques, or what Rahel would call “the dance of combat.”
Alseans did tend to have lyrical names for things.
They had no lyrical name for the summons she had received, however, nor the expression on Andira’s face when she said Just tell her the truth.
As if she had any choice, Lhyn thought as she put up her hood and set off toward the tallest building. Somewhere on its top floor was the office of Colonel Razine, high empath and head of the Alsean Investigative Force. There would be no hope of lying to her, even if she were inclined to try.
They had met once before, the night the Alseans fought their first ground pounder. When the battle ended and Lhyn shook with horror and guilt at what she had wrought, Razine stood up and chatted with the rest of the war council as if it were an academic meet-and-greet. How could anyone be that cool after battling aliens they hadn’t even known existed a day earlier?
Though bonded with a Fleet captain and well versed in the warrior way of thinking, Lhyn was still nervous around a woman like Razine.
Ekatya knew, of course. Salomen and Andira sensed it. Each had offered to accompany her, but she refused them all, not wanting to be escorted to her interview like a child giving a deposition. She had left her home planet at seventeen and forged her own path since; she had withstood torture and seen to it that those involved were imprisoned. She certainly did not need her hand held now. Besides, what could they do other than walk her to the door and sit in the waiting area? They wouldn’t be allowed in the interview itself.
Her bravado shrank a bit when she crossed the cavernous lobby of the admin building, gave her name to a hawk-nosed warrior behind the entry desk, and watched his expression fall from polite courtesy to what might be pity.
“Yes, I have you on the schedule.” He beckoned over a younger warrior whose unadorned uniform marked him as a trainee. “This is Dr. Lhyn Rivers,” he said, pronouncing her Common-language title as if it were part of her name. “Take her to the top. Colonel Razine’s office.”
The trainee saluted crisply, fist to chest and head lowered, then indicated the lift. “Please follow me.”
Lhyn found herself incapable of making light conversation with the young man, and he was clearly disinclined to offer any of his own. The silent lift ride deposited them into an oppressively quiet corridor, where even their steps were muffled by the handwoven rug padding the wood floor.
She followed her guide around several curves and past at least twenty doors, only two of which were open. One showed a desk strewn with books and other paraphernalia: an office whose occupant was visiting the toilet or shannel dispenser. The other was a conference room, its ornate wooden chairs sitting in empty anticipation around an oval table inlaid with a map of Blacksun Basin.
Lhyn itched to walk inside and have a good look. She’d bet twenty cinteks the ceiling was carved as well.
After a final turn, there were no more doors but for the double set at the end. The rug led straight to them, stopping just before the threshold.
The trainee opened one door and poked his head through. “Dr. Lhyn Rivers to see Colonel Razine?”
“Show her in.”
He stepped back and gestured her through. Gathering her courage, she entered a spacious antechamber—and stopped in surprise at the sight of Rahel Sayana watching her from a chair by the wall.
“Well met, Lhyn. Didn’t expect to see you here, but now that I think about it, I’m not surprised.”
Lhyn nodded at the aide behind the ornate desk, crossed the room, and folded herself into the chair beside Rahel. “Why not? I thought we’d be interviewed separately.”
“We would be, if this were a criminal investigation.” Rahel leaned over and lowered her voice. “But Razine already has the facts, doesn’t she? I think she’s more interested in the truth.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
She shook her head. “Truth involves emotions. We’ll have a harder time hiding those when we’re in there together.”
“But what is there to—”
“Colonel Razine is ready for you,” the aide interrupted. He did not move from his chair.
When Lhyn made to rise, Rahel stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
“For which one of us?” she inquired smoothly.
His eyes narrowed. “Both of you.”
“Very well.” She stood, pulling Lhyn up with her. “Then do your duty and announce us.”
A flash of disgust crossed the aide’s face before he carefully blanked all expression and walked to the inner door. Without looking at either of them, he opened it, gave their names, and stepped aside.
Rahel stopped in the open doorway and pitched her voice to carry. “I’m surprised Colonel Razine tolerates such discourtesy. Not only to a superior officer, but to a scholar guest.”
Shock erased his neutral expression. He glanced into the office, then down as he mumbled, “My apologies, First Guard.”
Rahel was not through. “Apology accepted, but I’m not the only one you offended.”
At last he met Lhyn’s eyes, face set in quiet resentment. “My apologies, Dr. Rivers.”
Lhyn studied him and reconsidered her stance on not wanting anyone to hold her hand. Had she been here alone, she would have let herself into the office and been none the wiser.
“What did you hope to gain by that?” she asked. “Obviously you could insult me and I wouldn’t know, but why would you think you could insult First Guard Sayan
a?”
A shadow blocked the light coming from the inner office. Colonel Razine stood in the doorway, watching them in silence.
Now visibly nervous, the aide cleared his throat and did not answer.
“I don’t have time for this,” Razine said. “Lead Guard, take a shannel break and reconsider the wisdom of bringing personal attitude to your professional duties.”
“Yes, Colonel.” He saluted her and practically ran from the room.
Lhyn marveled at his failed power play when Razine exuded power without even trying. She was shorter than both of them, yet stood as if she were the tallest person in the room. With brown hair clipped in a no-nonsense cut and a plain uniform doing no favors for her stout body, she looked drab compared to Rahel, whose dress uniform, braided auburn hair, and powerful physique were guaranteed to catch the eye. But even Rahel seemed intimidated by the woman now offering her palm.
“First Guard Sayana, well met.” She held her hand stiffly upright, a formal palm touch with none of the softness of slightly curved fingers that characterized a friendlier, more casual touch.
Rahel saluted before meeting it in kind, and when it was Lhyn’s turn, she made sure to keep her hand rigidly formal. Colonel Razine gave her a quick, sharp smile.
Approval, perhaps? Surprise that a Gaian would know the subtle protocols?
“Please, have a seat.” She walked back to her desk, a wave of her hand indicating the two high-backed chairs in front of it.
The desk was made of at least three different types of wood, carved and inlaid with the artistry typical of Alsean furniture. Behind it, a wall of glass offered a grand view of the base and the forest beyond, stretching away as far as she could see. Somewhere in the distance was the skyline of Blacksun, now invisible in the rain.
Razine sat in her own chair, ignoring the scenery behind her, and trained her gaze on them. “My aide’s behavior was inappropriate but understandable. You two have caused havoc in the warrior caste, tied up valuable resources in the AIF, and put Bondlancer Opah’s life in danger.”
“With respect, Colonel—” Rahel began.
“I did not invite you to speak.”
Lhyn watched Rahel stiffen and could not keep silent. “Then why are we here, if not to speak to you?” she asked. “Or are you just using a more overt power play than your aide?”
“I don’t play, Dr. Rivers.” Colonel Razine picked up a reader card. “Eight days ago, you took Bondlancer Opah off her land and away from the protection of her Guards. For the three days that she was missing, I was forced to divert forty-two highly trained AIF warriors from their assignments. While searching for you, they suspended their work on twelve ongoing cases, including one murder and a missing child.”
Lhyn felt the shock of that right down to her toes. “A missing child? Salomen told Andira she was with us! She was never in any danger. How could you leave a child—”
“She didn’t,” Rahel said quietly. “The AIF wouldn’t abandon the search for a child.”
“The AIF has never been called upon to find a missing Bondlancer,” Razine retorted. “Our priority was clear. And I find it interesting that you seem to have no concern about the murder that went unsolved in the meantime, or the grieving family waiting for answers. Is it only children who wake your sense of responsibility?”
“My responsibility was and still is the safety of Bondlancer Opah.”
The reader card clattered to the desk. Bracing her elbows on the armrests and her fingertips against each other, Razine examined them with the air of a disappointed instructor. “If I accept that, then I must question your motivation, Dr. Rivers. First Guard Sayana is qualified to protect our Bondlancer. You’re not. What was your purpose, then?”
Her purpose? Lhyn had never thought of it in those terms. She had responded to the need of a dear friend; what other purpose was there?
“I, um. Flew the transport,” she said, flustered. “Salomen needed a pilot.”
“For what, forty ticks of flight time? She could have hired someone and paid them to keep quiet. You were with her for three days and three nights. What did you do all that time if you were only needed for forty ticks?”
“I—” She stopped, remembering intimate conversations that she would never repeat here, nights in a shared bed that had transformed their relationship, and moments of joy that had no place in this office. “I was her friend.”
“Her friend,” Razine repeated. “Interesting. Guard Demerah believes you were her lover.”
“She was not her lover,” Rahel snapped. “I was there. I would have known. Since when does the AIF take the word of a murdering oathbreaker?”
Lhyn, who had seen the footage of Demerah throwing two deadly blades at Salomen, could find no words. The accusation didn’t bother her, but its source made her skin crawl.
“Even criminals can have useful information. Of course, we sift the data carefully to separate truth from fiction.” Colonel Razine inspected her with a gaze that drilled all the way through her head. “No, they didn’t join. I don’t believe they Shared, either. Ah, yes, that’s confirmed. But these are not the emotions of a mere friend.”
“They’re family,” Rahel said stoutly.
“They’re more than that.”
“Is there a purpose to this?” Lhyn was hot with embarrassment and a growing tendril of fear, though of what, she didn’t know.
“We’ve just completed the last top-priority clearance scan,” Razine said. “All of the Lancer’s and remaining Bondlancer’s Guards have been cleared to return to duty.”
Baffled by the change of subject, Lhyn was silent.
Rahel was not. “You didn’t scan me.”
“Not for that, no. Your loyalty to Bondlancer Opah was never in question. What is in question is your ability to consent.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms atop the desk. “Let me tell you what I see. I see a warrior beholden to our Bondlancer for both freedom and honor. When she asked for your service, you had no ability to refuse. To do so would have jeopardized your probation.”
“I would have agreed regardless.”
“I believe you. But what is the true source of that loyalty? No one knows for certain what she did to you in Pollonius. As for you,” she continued, addressing Lhyn over Rahel’s outraged attempt to interrupt, “you wouldn’t know if she compelled you. How much of this loyalty is yours, and how much is the product of empathic force?”
Rahel erupted from her chair, hands slamming onto the desk as she glared down at the seated colonel. “How dare you insult Salomen—”
“She has never forced me and she would never consider it!”
Their voices blended into a harmony of anger, but Razine simply smiled at them.
“Surely you see that you’re not helping her with this behavior?” she asked smoothly. “If your loyalties were rewritten, this is exactly what you would do.”
Stricken, Rahel dropped back down. “She didn’t.”
“How would you know that when even Bondlancer Opah doesn’t?”
They stared at her in shocked silence.
“You may be aware that she holds an open warrant for defensive empathic force. To qualify, she underwent a full examination of her actions in Pollonius and her intents for future use of her powers.”
“What does that mean, a full examination?” Salomen had never mentioned this.
“She consented to a deep empathic scan while being interviewed. I conducted it myself. Bondlancer Opah believes that she did not compel your loyalty, First Guard. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t do it unknowingly. She admitted that her actions in Pollonius were pure instinct.” She turned back to Lhyn. “And I have an independently verified statement from Guard Demerah that you’ve engaged in four-way Sharings with both the Lancer and Bondlancer on numerous occasions. You’re a Gaian, with no protections. You don’t know what those Sharings have done to your free will.”
“This isn’t about us inconveniencing the AIF,” Lhyn said in realization
. “Or about putting Salomen’s life in danger, because we didn’t. This is about her powers. You didn’t really abandon the search for a child, did you?”
Colonel Razine leaned back with a pleased expression. “Finding a missing child requires a different skill set than tracking an adult. No, we didn’t.”
“You want to deep scan us,” Rahel said flatly. “To prove Salomen’s innocence.”
“Innocence is not the correct word. There’s no doubt that she’s innocent of intent. But there isn’t an Alsean alive who could conduct a true empathic scan on her. Your choice to hide her gave me a means to confirm my initial conclusion.”
“Does Andira know about this?” Lhyn demanded.
“I suspect your real question is, why is she allowing it and why didn’t she tell you?”
Lhyn looked away, unable to hold that knowing gaze. Razine really did see right through her.
“The answer to the first is, she respects the law. She knows the difficulty Bondlancer Opah’s abilities pose to our existing processes. Our best efforts weren’t adequate to the task. This will prove, once and for all, whether we were right to approve that warrant. As for the second question, she couldn’t tell you because it would have tainted my results.”
“You’ve been scanning us since we came in.” Rahel’s tone was resigned. “You have a warrant with our names on it and didn’t tell us.”
Colonel Razine reached into a desk drawer, pulled out two forms, and slid them across the desk. “Circumstances required it.”
Lhyn fingered the thick paper. It wasn’t often used in Alsean record keeping, but certain legal documents were considered too important to keep solely in digital form. She had been through many such documents in her research and always admired the various scripts, so different from the blocky text used in official Protectorate records.
Far Enough Page 1
