“What?” Jetta whispered.
Dinjin shook his head. “Must be part of their programming. You didn’t know, did you?”
Jetta said nothing.
“The USC fought to protect the telepaths after the Dissembler Scare really took flight. We tried to stop the registrations and the arrests.”
Jetta shook her head in disbelief. Why do I feel guilty?
“I didn’t know that,” she said quietly. “I just thought the USC was a crappy government that tried to regulate commerce and law in the Homeworlds.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Dinjin said. “But that was in the beginning. When the Dominion began its hatemongering against the telepaths and gaining power, the USC banded together and formed a unified military to stand up to the Sovereign’s army. We were the last resistance against the Dominion Core.”
“You fought to protect the telepaths,” Jetta whispered, then stiffened. “But I was enrolled in the Core, and that makes me your enemy.”
Dinjin got up, stretched his back, and moved over to the corpse of the fat human. He stood over it as if he was trying to plan a way to move the body, but Jetta could tell he was stalling.
“That does bring up an interesting point,” Dinjin said, turning toward her. Jetta heard the shift in the tone of his voice. “Did you fight on behalf of the Core?”
Jetta was about to reply “no” when she suddenly found herself unsure.
“Well then,” Dinjin grunted as he tried to drag the corpse by its arm. “Seems you don’t know quite what side you’re on, do you?”
To her surprise, Jetta felt a pang of shame, followed by a rush of anger. “Look, I’m tired of being screwed with. I just want to go find my brother, and if you have information that could help me, then I want it. I don’t care about anything else.”
Exhausted, Dinjin gave up and sat down on the belly of the fat man, pushing out the remaining air in his lungs and belly with a loud hiss. The sudden tanginess in the air made Jetta’s nose wrinkle.
“Kiddo, none of us here are out to get you. Not all the world is bad, you know.”
Jetta felt the fear in the shallows of his mind and sighed. “Yes, it is.”
JAEIA COULDN’T BELIEVE how much lab equipment the Exiles had stolen from the Narki city. Filling the entire lower level cavern, computer housing rose to the rocky ceiling in competition with stalagmites, leaving barely enough space to move about. Most of it she didn’t recognize, but some of it she figured out from the design, specifically the power source for Crissn’s machinery.
“It’s a ‘string puller,’ isn’t it?” Jaeia asked, pressing a cloth against Senka’s wound. The Vreaper woman moaned softly, squirming on the rock slab serving as an exam table. Crissn, kneeling by Senka’s side, analyzed her with a bioscanner, worry etching lines across his forehead. “Those can generate years’ worth of power on a liter of concentrated hydrocell fuel. They collect energy by disrupting the vibrations of nicentint strings, right?”
“Y-yes, theoretically. Nobody really knows why it works so well, though.” Crissn pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and gave a nervous laugh. “I’m impressed. D-did you read my thoughts?”
“No, I already knew that,” Jaeia said, trying not to take offense. In any case, Senka needed help. Though the wound only oozed now, the burns around it worried her.
“I understand the burn marks, but I don’t understand why her blood vessels are changing color,” Jaeia said, taking a seat next to Senka on the rock slab while she held pressure to her wound.
“The Northies seem to have found plasma weapons that also discharge toxins, just in case the blast doesn’t do the trick.”
“Will she be all right?” Jaeia asked.
Crissn removed his glasses and sat back on his heels. He placed a hand on Senka’s shoulder and hung his head. “Probably not. I don’t know. The plague makes it hard to predict. Besides, I’m not much for Vreaper anatomy and physiology.”
“You seem to know enough. What did you do before you were sent here?” Jaeia asked.
Crissn’s eyes shifted nervously as he removed a roll of bandages from his medical kit. “Well, uh, I was a scientist of sorts. Did a lot of work with medical equipment for the different Houses before me and Rawyll, uh... left Oriya.”
“Houses?”
“You know, warrior families? Tribes? Rawyll clearly didn’t give you his lecture about the ‘great warrior culture’ of the Oriya,” Crissn said, waving his hands. “Well, I wasn’t a warrior, obviously,” he snorted, “so I became something like an indentured servant to one of the Houses, just so I could stay out of the shows.”
“Shows?”
“Like the fighting rings on Old Earth—I’m sure you’ve heard of those. I’d be the bait.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of those,” Jaeia said, thinking back to conversations she had overhead on Fiorah. The Underground Block was the premiere venue where abducted Sentients were sold and traded for bouts in the rings. She always thought it was strange how it was mostly humans that were auctioned off and returned to their home planet to die for spectacle.
“So, I worked for Rawyll’s House patching up all the warriors after their ‘mighty battles’ and all that gorsh-shit. That’s why I can furgu my way through this stuff,” Crissn said. Jaeia didn’t know his native language, but she got the idea.
“What can I do to help her?” Jaeia asked as Senka moaned again.
Crissn finished bandaging her abdomen, but the wrappings were already soaked through. He shook his head and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “You’re not as bug-headed as your sister, are you?”
“No. She’ll even say I’m ‘the good twin.’”
“Well, in that case, just stay and watch her for a while. If she stops breathing, give her this,” Crissn said, handing her a hypodermic injector, “and if her color gets worse, give her this.” He handed her another. “You know how to work them?”
Jaeia turned the hypodermics over in her hand, identifying the different buttons and medication settings. It was older technology, but she understood it from one of her many gleanings years ago. “Yes—but where are you going?”
“To go check with the Grand Oblin.”
“Where did he go, anyway?” Jaeia asked.
Crissn fumbled with his spectacles and looked away. “He, um, went to the lower levels to see if we have any antibiotics in storage.”
From the way he avoided her eyes and staked down his thoughts, Jaeia could tell he was lying. Seeing no easy way around Crissn’s mental barricade, she strained to hear the familiar frequency of the Grand Oblin’s mind.
“I hear him, but he seems really far away, and there’s a lot of interference.”
Crissn forced a laugh. “I wouldn’t know how you telepaths work your magic. You stay here, okay? I’ll be back in a moment.”
Muttering to himself, Crissn headed for a tunnel at the far end of the cavern where the Grand Oblin had gone earlier. Jaeia followed Crissn’s thoughts as he descended deep into the mountain, but they soon grew as distant and muddled as the Oblin’s.
What is that? Jaeia thought, encountering a cloud of white noise. Goosebumps popped up all over her arms and legs. Why does that remind me of the Dominion Core?
Senka’s body shook, and Jaeia snapped to attention. She opted for the injector filled with white medicine and depressed the plunger into Senka’s neck.
Senka’s eyes shot open, and she sat straight up. Jaeia held her by the shoulders as Senka pawed at her face
“I can’t see—I can’t see!” she cried.
“It’s okay, I’m here, it’s Jaeia,” she said, extending herself into Senka’s mind. She tried to steady the Vreaper’s thoughts with her own, but Senka’s mental pattern didn’t match anything she recognized.
“My God, am I blind?” she wept, touching her eyes.
“No, it’s just the medication I gave you. You were having a seizure—I had to.”
Senka nodded and shivered. “What happened?
My stomach hurts.”
“You were shot by a Northie. Crissn bandaged your stomach and is going to go find some antibiotics.”
Tears rolled down Senka’s cheek, and Jaeia sensed the dread in the officer’s thoughts. “He went down to the lower levels?”
“Yes, he did.”
“No...” Senka whispered.
“What’s wrong?” Jaeia asked, gently touching the Vreaper’s arm.
“I just hate those antibiotics,” Senka said, keeping hold of Jaeia’s hand. “They make me feel... funny.”
Jaeia squeezed her hand. “You know I’m telepathic, right?”
Senka chuckled, closed her eyes and rested her other hand protectively across her stomach.
“It is not my place to tell you what goes on down there. You should ask the Grand Oblin if you really want to know, okay?”
Jaeia nodded but peered more deeply into her thoughts. Senka believes she’s right by not talking about whatever is bothering her so badly. It’s worth investigating, but I won’t find answers through her.
“Is it hot in here?” Sweat stained Senka’s neckline and dripped down her forehead.
“No, it’s your fever,” Jaeia said. “Do you want me to get you some water from the meeting place?”
“No, no—stay with me, please,” Senka said, tightening her grip on her hand. “You feel good to hold onto.”
Jaeia gripped her more tightly. “Nobody’s ever said anything like that to me before.”
“Really?” Senka said. She paused to cough up a gout of blood. “God, my ribs ache.”
“Most people we meet are afraid of us,” Jaeia said.
“Why?” Senka asked. “I thought you hid your telepathy.”
Jaeia shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, we always have. I guess they can just tell we’re different.”
“Well, truthfully, you and your sister are a bit intimidating.”
“I know Jetta seems unfriendly, but she’s affectionate in her own way. Sometimes she just cares too much... and things get out of hand.”
Senka tried to laugh but ended up wincing.
Jaeia scooted closer to her. “You’re not like the other Exiles.”
Senka smiled but did not open her eyes. “The Grand Oblin and I are the only ones who like kids.”
“Do you have kids?”
“I did,” Senka whispered, gingerly drawing up her knees, “before the wars started.”
Blood leaked through the bandage again. Jaeia added another stack of gauze pads to Senka’s stomach, but the Vreaper woman took over applying pressure. “What about you? What happened to your parents? Were they smart like you?”
Jaeia shook her head. “Don’t know. Rawyll was right to call us launnies—we are street rats. Our Pao—or uncle, in Common—took us in, but it didn’t work out very well. Fiorah’s no place for kids.”
“You grew up on Fiorah?” Senka exclaimed. The movement made her grimace, and she lay back down. “I thought that place sold off children—in pieces. Hard to believe you lasted there.”
“Then maybe you’ll understand why we ended up with the Dominion. At the time, it seemed like a good choice.”
“How did you survive?” Senka whispered, shivering and shaking. Jaeia wanted to get another hypodermic or at least call for Crissn, but Senka’s grip was too strong.
“Well,” Jaeia began, unsure. A part of her wanted to tell Senka everything. It would infuriate her sister, but it was such a relief to talk to someone who seemed to care. “If my brother and sister and I didn’t have our talents, we would have been killed or sold off in the Underground. Our owner only kept us around because we were useful.”
“What do your talents allow you to do? It didn’t seem like Jetta really wanted to share, before.”
That was the dangerous question—the one Jetta forbade her ever to answer. If anybody knew the full extent of what they could do, it would mean their death.
“Well, I can say we learn very quickly. When somebody is explaining something, it’s not their words that reach us, but their thought patterns,” she said, pointing to her head, even though Senka couldn’t see it. “It was one of the ways we stayed alive on the mining ships—we could fix anything else another worker could fix.”
“You’re a sponge, is what you’re telling me,” Senka said, laughing wanly.
“Well, Jetta does always tell me I have a lot of holes in my head,” Jaeia giggled.
“But you can do more, can’t you?” Senka said.
Jaeia bit her lip. Why am I so trusting? “Yes, we can.”
“Is that what the Core used you for?”
Jaeia squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled so deeply she thought her lungs would burst. “I don’t really know.”
For a moment she watched Senka breathe and listened to the thread of her psionic projections. Feeling the cold emptiness of death edging its way around Senka’s mind, Jaeia panicked. She’s dying—I have to act now.
“I’m going to go get Crissn,” Jaeia said, trying to stand, but Senka held fast.
“No, it’s okay,” Senka whispered, coughing fitfully. Fresh blood dribbled down the side of her face. Jaeia looked down at the new bandage on Senka’s stomach and saw that it had saturated. “I don’t want any more... antibiotics.”
“Senka, no, please—”
“Promise me something, okay?” Senka asked, eyes barely open. The whites were bloodshot, and her pupils dilated.
Jaeia cringed, feeling the edge of an impending sorrow. “Okay, Senka.”
“Promise me you’ll really give the others a chance. All of us here—we’ve hit on hard times. We’ve done things we regret. But that doesn’t make us bad people. I have faith in them, just as I have faith in you, Jaeia.”
“Why do you have faith in me?” Jaeia asked, voice about to crumble.
“Because it doesn’t... doesn’t take a telepath...” Senka said, her head rolling to one side, “to know you are... good.”
Senka’s hand went slack, and Jaeia carefully placed Senka’s arm across her body. On Fiorah dead bodies littered the alleyways and the dumpsters—even the hallways of their old apartment—but she had never actually seen someone die. Senka’s psionic presence, which had been steady and distinctive, faded into nothing. Jaeia tried to hold onto her thought patterns, but they slipped away like water through her fingers.
“Hey—what happened?” Crissn shouted, tripping over a bundle of wires as he emerged from the lower level tunnel.
Jaeia just shook her head and sat back on her heels. When she looked up, the Grand Oblin stood next to Crissn, whispering in his ear. Crissn held a container filled with a black, viscous fluid.
“Jaeia, come with me,” the Grand Oblin urged, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Crissn needs to attend to Senka now.”
“But Senka said she didn’t want any more antibiotics,” Jaeia said, holding onto the Grand Oblin’s fingers. She tried to give him her memory of their conversation, but the old man was either unreceptive or unable to read her projection.
“No, no, no—we need Senka—we can’t go through this again, Grand,” Crissn said, clutching the container to his chest.
“Isn’t she dead?” Jaeia asked.
Crissn and the Grand Oblin exchanged glances before the old man opted to speak. “Not with our resources, she’s not.”
Jaeia pressed her hand to her face. In his nervousness, Crissn leaked information, and for the first time, she could hear pieces of his thoughts clearly, as if he screamed them at her. What she heard choked the air right out of her.
Jaeia hunched over. “What are you hiding here?”
Crissn turned away, his hands knotting in his hair.
The Grand Oblin raised his arms and closed his eyes. “Jaeia, let us go find your sister. I will tell you what you need to know.”
A sharp, acidic feeling unsettled her stomach as the Oblin led her away. She wasn’t sure how Crissn was going to resuscitate Senka’s lifeless body, especially given her previous injuries, but she h
ad felt the nature of his thoughts and knew his confidence.
Jaeia braced the side of the tunnel wall as they ascended to the main cavern. “Do you know what my greatest fear is?”
The Grand Oblin didn’t look at her.
“That Jetta will be right about you. About all of you.”
“Jaeia, you must trust my judgment,” the Grand Oblin replied softly.
Jaeia didn’t respond. She didn’t think she had to, really. If the Grand Oblin was a telepath, he would sense her apprehension, her faith teetering on the edge of despair.
I am alone, she realized. I can’t tell Jetta any of my concerns about the Exiles, or she’ll justify the use of her talents. And then I’ll—
She stopped mid-step, grinding her fingernails into the rock wall. –I’ll lose my sister.
“Jaeia,” the Grand Oblin said, “not every Sentient means you harm.”
Jaeia thought of her aunt and uncle, imagining them back in the apartment, their expressions both worried and welcoming as they greeted her at the kitchen table. The windows, not yet boarded up, cast sunlight on the table full of food. Her brother and sister, thin but happy, drank pigeon’s milk and laughed at some inside joke.
A smile, tinged with sadness, touched her lips. “I know.”
AS SOON AS HER SISTER walked into the main cavern, Jetta reared her head. Jaeia’s swirling thoughts confirmed her doubts, and she sprang into action, sprinting toward the lower level tunnels.
“What are you doing?” Dinjin called after her.
The Grand Oblin tried to place his walking stick between her and her sister, but Jetta dodged, grabbing Jaeia by the arm and pulling her back down the tunnel.
Jaeia dug her heels into the ground, but Jetta dragged her along.
“Stop!”
“We are going down there,” Jetta said through gritted teeth, tightening her grip on her sister’s arm.
Jaeia brought her elbow down on her wrist, breaking Jetta’s hold. “Why does it always end up like this with you?”
You know we need to go down there, Jetta said silently.
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