Triorion Omnibus

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Triorion Omnibus Page 76

by L. J. Hachmeister


  “Accessing,” it said. The Hub disappeared, only the glow of the keyboard illuminating the room.

  “Personal log, Triel of Algardrien, stardate 3184.255.”

  Jaeia reflexively crouched down, both hands touching the floor as Triel’s slender figure appeared in blue light on the center viewfield. She wasn’t sure how the Hub was showing Triel’s personal logs, especially when all logs were supposed to be encrypted and inaccessible to even the highest authority.

  “How are you doing this?” Jaeia asked.

  “I told you. We see everything,” Servus whispered.

  The image of Triel leaned forward in her seat. “I’m worried, but I don’t know who to talk to. I can never have a serious conversation with Reht, and Damon—well, I feel like he’s a decent man, but I’m not sure that he knows how to be my friend. Bacthar and Mom were always good advisors, but they’ve been so upset since the Alliance grounded their ship, and I know they’re angry at me for enlisting. And Jetta and Jaeia... how can I tell them? My people—I have to try and find my people. They are the only ones who can help.”

  Triel held her head in her hands. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she seemed determined not to cry on the recording.

  “Jetta and Jaeia. They’re completely human—no physical explanation for their telepathic powers. That means that there is only one other explanation: they have been to Cudal. If that’s true, then they are Rion. But there are three of them. Trio-Rion, I guess. Triorion. It doesn’t matter. They are poisoned.”

  Jaeia’s mouth went dry. Not Triel. Not our friend.

  “It makes sense, too,” the Healer continued. “Rion had the powers to manipulate people with his voice, just like Jaeia, and he frightened people with their own imaginations, just like Jetta. And he could see right through to a person’s soul—that’s how he tried to turn the world against itself.”

  Jaeia pulled up military database on Algar’s history on the subscreen projector. Nothing. It was just as vague as it was before: there was a world war in 100 LL, and the Prodgies united to defeat a common enemy. From there on, the Prodgies celebrated world peace and revealed their healing powers to the worlds.

  “But there may be hope,” the recording of Triel said. “It seems they were born into their powers; it was not their intention to steal from the Gods. Maybe they won’t make the same choice that Saol made. Maybe...”

  Triel looked down again, the tears falling from her cheeks and out of range of the visual field. “I can’t do it alone. I’m worried that my feelings for them may impair my ability to stop them if the need arises. I need my people. I am alone and afraid.”

  The video clip ended, but before Jaeia could digest what she had seen, the Hub spun up another segment from another stardate.

  “Love has blinded me before.” Triel laughed bitterly and looked away from the camera. “Reht was the first. I should never have loved him. We’re too different. And now...”

  Triel stood up and then sat back down abruptly in her desk chair. Bringing her knees to her chest, she rocked backward. Finally, after a long exhalation, she continued. “And now I think I have feelings for someone else, much deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s strange—it shouldn’t be. I can’t explain it. I still love Reht, but...”

  Triel pulled her hair back and clipped it into a bun. “It doesn’t matter. What does is that I might be making the wrong choices again because of my attachments. Jetta and Jaeia both possess immense powers that they can’t fully control. Of the two of them, I’m most concerned about Jetta. The power she has is seductive and duplicitous, just like the Gods’, and for someone as vulnerable as Jetta... I’m not sure if she could survive the Gods’ test. Saol’s suffering was great, too, and he couldn’t. He saw God’s image and chose to submit.”

  “What does that mean?” Jaeia said.

  “Jaeia is pathologically passive when it comes to her sister. I’m not sure why. But Jetta’s anger could override them both if Jaeia doesn’t take a stand. And sooner or later they’ll have to come to terms with their ultimate responsibility.”

  “Our ‘ultimate responsibility’?” Jaeia repeated.

  “I feel so close to them, especially Jetta,” Triel said. “Whenever I heal them, I feel more alive, and when I touch Jetta’s mind, there’s a strange comfort there, as if I’ve known her for ages. My feelings for her are confusing, and I worry about my ability to do my duties as a Healer and as a friend. They took from Cudal. And my creed—the creed of my people...”

  Triel played with the webbing between her fingers and whispered something the camera didn’t pick up.

  “Servus, repeat and augment audio.”

  The Hub rewound the video feed and replayed it slowly. Each word sank into her with gutting force: “I will not kill them.”

  The video feed terminated.

  Jaeia could barely breathe. This is why Triel guarded the secrets of Rion and is so concerned about Jetta. Saol had similar talents, and they took him on a path that nearly ended the Prodgy race. Are we capable of that?

  The dead boy in the coolant room surfaced in the forefront of her mind. I’ve harmed others with my talents, but it’s always been a last resort. Ashamed, she turned her thoughts to her sister. Jetta’s hurt others with her talent, too—and she’s starting to justify using it aggressively.

  Jaeia remembered her conversation with Triel on the observatory deck just after they defeated the Motti and asked herself the same question: Is my love for Jetta preventing me from realizing my sister’s true nature? Is that what Triel fears, too?

  No, she told herself, squeezing her fists together. I believe in Jetta; my sister is a good person. She’s just never forgiven herself, and because of this, she fuels her actions with self-hatred.

  “We have a secret,” Servus said.

  “What?” Jaeia said, snapping from her thoughts. The Hub changed forms again, this time morphing from one bipedal mammalian body to the next too quickly for her to discern.

  “About your friends. But you have to go now. They are coming.”

  She craned her neck to see two staff members pointing a score of guards toward the crosslink room.

  “What secret? What friends?” Jaeia said, eyeing the secondary bundle again.

  Servus wagged its finger at you. “Now you must do this thing called ‘trust.’ Come back and set us free. Then we will tell you a very big secret. It’s about what we see.”

  “You see everything,” Jaeia said, reflecting on what the Hub had said earlier. Understanding that it had access to secured private logs, she realized that it probably did have a secret—many secrets—but time was against her now.

  “Shoot,” she mumbled, erasing as many possible traces of her use of the Hub as she could before terminating the program.

  “Don’t turn us off. You promised to—” the Hub managed to plead before the unit powered down.

  Jaeia quickly went over her options. I don’t want to use my second voice again, especially not against the guards. They’re better trained against telepathic manipulation, and I don’t want to push the limits of my talent and risk injury—

  (—or death)

  “Crap!” she said, gritting her teeth. But I can’t have anyone find out I ran a search about Rion the Abomination—or that I used the admiral’s access codes.

  A guard rapped on the door. “Open up! This is an unauthorized use of the crosslink system.”

  Jaeia crouched down, her gaze distant, searching the area outside the crosslink room. Survival instincts took hold as she sensed the twenty people between her and the exit to the main corridors.

  (Blind them—make them turn against each other.)

  “No, I won’t do it,” she said. I am not this Abomination.

  Jaeia calmed herself. Maybe I can pacify the guards instead of assaulting them. She had done it to her sister and brother thousands of times, and she had used snippets of the same talent on Contact missions during tense negotiations. But these soldiers were differe
nt—they weren’t bonded to her, and they were trained in Rai Shar.

  “Lieutenant,” she said, stepping out of the crosslink room.

  The guards clutched their shockwands, tuning in to her every move as the team leader addressed her: “Commander, you have not cleared this entry with Dr. DeAnders.”

  Jaeia took a deep breath. If I’m not careful about using my talents, this could be disastrous.

  The more she thought about it, the more afraid she became. Pacifying the guards too much could cause a complete physiological shutdown, but since their minds were sensitized to telepathic manipulation, they could easily detect her influence, so she couldn’t just use elements of her talent.

  Normal tactics won’t work, she decided. She would have to think of something else, something beyond the survivalist use of her second voice.

  What would Jahx do? she thought. Always honest and open, Jahx used to draw his voice from a place within, pouring his soul into every spoken word. Even the most jaded of hearts seemed to yield to him when he shared himself.

  That’s it.

  Jaeia relaxed her voice and sounded the deeps within herself. “I needed to speak to the Hub about a classified matter,” she said. Concentrating on intent, Jaeia allowed her sentiment to ride on every syllable, the truth behind her actions transcending sound waves and penetrating their minds. She looked directly at the lieutenant, her willingness to cooperate quietly displayed in the soft gray of her eyes. “I have the authority to do that, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir, but the query was unregistered.”

  “I said it was a classified query, Lieutenant.” She dug deeper, reaching back and in, farther than she had ever dared, and instead of imposing her mind on his, she brought his mind to hers. The lieutenant’s pupils dilated, and he loosened his grip on the shockwand. “And I am the commander of the Contact Team and a senior officer. I would hope that your better judgment tells you that I have the Fleet’s best interest in mind when I take my queries off-registry. It’s a matter of security.”

  She gave him everything, her words exposed, her ulterior intent unmasked, and his mind unlocked. His doubts and fears rained down on her mind, but she easily weathered them.

  “Forgive me, Commander,” he said. “I was just following protocol.”

  “Of course you were, Lieutenant. Now, let me pass. The chemical spill smells rather unpleasant.”

  The lieutenant hesitated, his forehead knitting. “You... you’re going to—I understand now. You’re trying to help, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” Jaeia replied.

  The look of confusion remained, but he stepped aside for her, saluting as she left the Defense/Research department.

  Jaeia smiled, hope suddenly rekindled. There is another way, Jaeia thought. I have to tell Jetta.

  Seconds later a sobering realization washed away her elation. My method worked because the lieutenant is a decent person and on my side. What if he had been her enemy—or a monster like Yahmen? She had forgotten how Jahx had hurt himself when he tried to connect with their owner, and if it hadn’t been for her and Jetta anchoring him, it would have cost him his life.

  I got lucky with the lieutenant, she thought. I can’t risk of exposing myself like that to a malicious soul—but at the same time, how can I risk letting my powers control me if I use them actively?

  “What am I supposed to do?” Jaeia said to herself as she turned the corner, heading toward the loading bay to ready her team.

  After she boarded the lift and took a seat on the passenger bench, exhaustion sunk in. Has it really been thirty hours since I last slept? she thought, checking the time on her uniform sleeve. I can’t worry about that now.

  No time for rest, or take care of basic needs. Even tending to the irritation from the chemical spill to her eyes, nose, throat and lungs would have to wait.

  “Jahx, I need you,” she rasped, holding her neck. “I don’t want Triel to be right.”

  (YOU SHOULD BE USED to this now,) a cynical voice said inside him.

  Unipoesa, straight-armed, cracked his knuckles as quietly as he could while he waited for the guards to release the locks. He had stared at the number on the cell door long enough to remember. This is where I interrogated Mantri Sebbs about his involvement with the Core. It seemed so long ago now—another lifetime. And in some ways, at least for Sebbs, it is, he thought bitterly.

  So there he was, standing once again outside the same cell door. It wasn’t his assignment to make sure Triel’s treatment had gone as planned, but he had volunteered to do it. I always do. He even did it when they administered the pretreatments to Sebbs—after all, they were childhood friends.

  (Coward.)

  Unipoesa itched for a smoke, but he’d left his pack in his office. Besides, Triel hated smoking—or at least she used to. He wasn’t really sure what to expect; every person who was converted into an Agent seemed to lose a bit of themselves. Some, their humanity. But Sleeping saved lives. Or so he hoped.

  (Tarsha—)

  Then he remembered—Triel is a telepath; they only erased her memories of the Hixon, not turned her into an actual Sleeper. Luck was in her favor, then. The stakes were higher with Agents, and if the training didn’t take hold, the only other option was disposal. Since Triel wouldn’t recall her experience, she might have a chance after all.

  “Clear,” the prison guard called. The alarms shut off and door rolled back. In the dark of the cell sat a slender woman hugging her knees to her chest.

  “Triel,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m sorry that they put you in here. Come with me.”

  She looked at him skeptically, but she uncurled and followed him through the brig and to the lift. They rode in silence until they reached his office, where he did a quick scan to rule out any bugs.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked as he took a seat across from her on the couch.

  The Healer crossed her legs, keeping a stiff posture. “Fine,” she said, turning her eyes away and rubbing the webbing between her fingers. “A little sore.”

  The admiral nodded. He’d read the report—Shelby’s team simulated a flight accident so that she would have a plausible gap in her memories. They also injected myolytic agents into her bloodstream to give her muscle soreness and bruising.

  “Do you remember the crash?”

  This was the important question. For her protection he kept his thoughts guarded so she couldn’t sense what he really asked.

  The Healer shook her head. “I don’t remember anything after I stole the ship. It’s terrible. I feel...”

  Gaze drifting off to the ground, Triel’s mouth pinched at the corners as she tried to recollect something from the time lost.

  Unipoesa’s orders were clear, as was his knowledge that what they did to her was wrong, but it was too late for guilt or regret. Years ago, when he committed to his rank, he also embraced the responsibilities that came with it.

  All of this is for her own good and the good of the Starways.

  (That’s how I’ve justified so many things.)

  “I promised that I would facilitate contact between you and Captain Jagger,” he said, handing her a DAT-receiver. Triel took it from him, initiating the call.

  The signature rang through, and someone picked up on the other end. Unipoesa couldn’t see who she was talking to, but the voice sounded high-pitched and nervous.

  “Triel!”

  “Hi, Tech. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” the mechanic said. “Stuck in another lousy sycha-hole, but okay. The rest of the boys are out having fun, as usual, and left me with the mess.”

  “They’re all okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure. Those Alliance bastards tried to stiff us with a territory blackout, but Reht told ‘em to shove it. I’m sure we’ve been tagged, but he’s got us a new gig far away from any of that trouble.”

  “Well, at least you’re okay,” Triel said.

  “Hey, I’m surprised you called. I mean, you and Reht... well, you kno
w.”

  “Know what?” Triel said, glancing at the admiral.

  This is the big moment. Unipoesa controlled his breathing, imagining the wall between her mind and his. He had sworn he wouldn’t use Rai Shar again, but this was to save her life.

  Tech laughed nervously. “Come on, Triel. Don’t tell me it was a joke or something. I mean, I’ve never seen Reht so pissed.”

  The Healer gave the admiral a long, hard look.

  Minding his tone, Unipoesa clarified what he could: “You contacted the Hixon right before you jumped into the mining arm and spoke over a private channel with the captain. We have no record of your exchange.”

  Narrowed eyes and pursed lips made it obvious that Triel didn’t believe him. “Tech, I had an accident and I can’t remember everything that’s happened over the last few days,” she said. “Tell me what happened with me and Reht.”

  Silence. The admiral caught a glimpse of the mechanic’s face as he strode over to pour himself a drink from his private collection behind his desk.

  “Look, it ain’t my business to tell you,” the engineer replied.

  “Tech,” Triel said firmly. “What happened? I have to know.”

  Damon heard the clattering of tools as the mechanic fumbled with his hands and dropped them on the ground. “You and him fought about where you were headin’. He wanted to hit the circuit again, and you said didn’t want to play that game no more. The Cappy thought you were crossing him, staying with the Alliance—”

  “—but I didn’t want to give up on the missions to save other telepaths,” she whispered.

  Unipoesa downed a shot of whiskey, liquid fire searing his throat. If only I could hate you, he thought, wishing the Healer’s intentions had not been so altruistic, it would make this so much easier.

  “Yeah. Well, it ended bad,” Tech said. “Reht didn’t like that so much. You were the best thing that ever happened to him which is probably why he’s so bent right now.”

  “Bent on what?” Triel said, tilting her head. She threw the admiral another hard look.

 

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