by Jay Aspen
The blast of the handgun is deafening so close to my ear. I turn my head in the empty space of aftershock, trying to make sense of fragmented images and sounds. Vander is gasping for breath, struggling to stay on his feet, gripping the edge of the recon’s door.
She’d shot him at point blank range.
Talaya pauses only to whisper, her lips close to his. ‘Too late, you little fool. I already killed five idiots on the way here. And as for you,’ She gives one final jab to my neck. ‘Looks like he just saved your life, darling. I need my last bullet for the pilot.’ She gives me a violent shove and slams the door. The recon takes off, heading out towards the spaceport.
I struggle to my knees, my breath coming in short desperate gasps. Vander lies beside me, blood pooling round him onto the smooth white street. Suddenly Saroyan’s hand is on my arm.
‘Hannik! Don’t move. Try to stay calm. Janna’s already on her way into the apartment with a med kit for Severin.’
She kneels beside Vander.
‘Yes, Vander. I know who you are and your thoughts are correct. You are dying. If you have anything you want to say, you should say it now.’
Vander’s eyes slowly focus on her face. ‘A truthseer. I was always afraid I’d be confronted by one of your kind before I got out of the smuggling racket. Is Tala all right?’
‘So far. No guarantees about the rest of her journey.’
He seems to relax. ‘She was the only woman who thought I was wonderful whatever I did...’
His voice fades away into a long silence. I look up and see tears streaming down Saroyan’s face.
‘What happened?’
The truthseer closes Vander’s lifeless eyes.
‘He was the unhappiest person I’ve ever sensed. It was almost too much to stay with him till the end.’
‘No he wasn’t! He was always so confident and successful and...’
Maybe I’m suddenly picking up a few threads of what Saroyan had been experiencing with him but I find I understand almost before she speaks.
‘It was all an act, Hannik. He’d learned that if people think you’re successful and happy and attentive, they’ll want a piece of your life. So he put all his efforts into creating that illusion. But underneath, all he wanted was to find someone who would give him the kind of unconditional love he never had from his mother.’
‘But Tala didn’t love him! She was just using him, the same way she used Deron.’
‘It’s easy to take advantage of someone’s weakness, whether it comes from a fear or an attachment. Like the dark-news pushers you told me about...’
She suddenly stares into my eyes. ‘Hannik, you look awful.’
‘I feel fairly awful. Like a sort of wrung-out wet rag. Nothing left to keep going with.’
Saroyan pulls me to my feet. ‘Come on, let’s get you back. Looks like the reinforcements have arrived now it’s all over.’
There are sirens and emergency teams and far too many people running around for me to cope with, the way I feel right now. To my relief, Alis drops the wasp onto the street in front of me and pushes open the hood.
‘Get in. Janna will bring Severin back in the recon.’
‘Is he all right?’ I let Saroyan push me into the cramped co-pilot’s seat. Alis lifts the wasp above the low-level buildings and cruises between the white towers towards her apartment.
‘He will be.’ She slows a little, careful to keep well below the speed limit as there had been no time to get a flight clearance over the city before we left. ‘Hope it’ll teach him to check a room properly next time.’
The curt answer doesn’t disguise her anxiety.
‘How did Janna know to come for Severin?’
Alis gives a disdainful sniff. ‘I got a dart into Deron as soon as he was out in the street below me. I clipped the wasp cable round his ankles, gave him the antidote and dangled him over the cliff edge while I asked him a few questions. Right next to where Saroyan was standing by the Oceanside wall. She got the story pretty quickly while Deron was whining for a reprieve. Then I called Janna.’
‘You didn’t...?’
Alis lets out a frustrated sigh. ‘Much as I would have liked to drop the wretched weasel into the sea, I do try to follow the law. Apart from the odd bit of cliff-dangling which probably isn’t within the permitted section of the interrogation manual. He’s been sent off with the other six we managed to round up. But he looked far too smug and confident for my liking. He’s got some kind of backup plan, I’m sure of it.’
She glides neatly through the open Delta gate into the hangar and parks. Then with a sigh of resignation she starts up again and sticks the wasp to the back wall to make room for Janna to bring the recon inside as well.
We’ve just reached the living room downstairs when there’s a scraping noise from above.
Alis glances at the ceiling and winces.
‘Hmph. Sounds like Janna’s arrived.’
A message comes through on her holo. She stares at it for a moment before letting out a grunt of impatience.
‘Now I wish I had dropped the little weasel off the cliff! Alexin intercepted a message from Weasel’s fond mother just before her private space-pod took off. Gushing apologies for deceiving him, telling him how courageous he’s been, believing he was risking his life trying to stop the conspiracy when in fact she’d tricked him into being part of it.’
‘You mean she’s taken all the blame on herself and then escaped?’ The injustice of it all breaks through the miasma of my spaghetti-brain that won’t go away.
‘Along with Talaya’s parents. And Talaya herself. Seems the police chose to let her escape in return for not killing the air-taxi pilot.’
‘Much as I’m glad he’s alive, doesn’t that encourage other hostage-takers?’
Alis stares at her message screen. ‘It might, unless they happen to be heading for Arcturus like this lot are. Only place that would grant them landing access.’
‘I don’t know much about Arcturus, apart from it being the capital of an empire that’s so distant it doesn’t have much influence on us.’
‘Suffice it to say it’s the most repressive, racist regime this side of the galaxy. Anyone who is not a direct descendent of the original colonists from Earth is treated no better than a slave. A life-sentence in a Pangaean rehab-jail would be a better deal.’
‘So why...’
‘Maybe they still have ideas about coming back for another try at their original plan. It’s very unlikely they’ll find a way to get free of their future slavery in the asteroid mines, but I suppose we’ll have to stay alert in case they do.’ Alis glances once more at the ceiling. ‘I’d better get back up there. Janna and Saroyan might need some help getting Severin down the stairs.’
20
I sit beside Severin, holding his hand. He’s propped up with cushions on the hover-couch in his room, the thick black band of a surgeon clamp wrapped around the upper part of his chest. He opens one exhausted eye and manages a weak grin.
‘Guess I wasn’t quite as lucky as you were when Gram shot you. Janna says I’ll be in this damn gadget of hers for three more days at least.’
‘Two broken ribs and a punctured lung. You’re lucky to be alive.’ Janna gives his remark about her innovative device a disapproving frown. ‘Not to mention the lump on your head where you hit the wall. Now try to sleep it off. Hannik needs to go through the results of her psych-tests.’ She tries to steer me away but Severin grabs my wrist, wincing at the pain of the sudden movement.
‘It’s not going to be all good, Hannik. Come and talk to me about it afterwards if you want to.’
‘How do you know?’
But Janna pulls me away, walking me through to the main room where Alis and Saroyan are waiting with Doctor Webern, the elderly psych-specialist. I sit down heavily on the hover-seat, suddenly wishing I didn’t have to hear whatever is about to be revealed. The three hours of his rigorous tests this morning have left me with too much uncertainty.<
br />
Webern looks up from his holo-notes and peers over his old-fashioned spectacles.
‘Well, young lady, you have been most fortunate to have the backing of both a Webdancer and a truthseer for your tests.’ He smiles benevolently at Janna and Saroyan. ‘Most unusual and providing a fascinating amount of extra detail...’
I catch Saroyan’s sympathetic smile and curb my urge to tell the eminent specialist to stop waffling and get on with it.
‘Hmm, well...’ Webern peers again at his notes. ‘It is likely that most of the neural damage occurred during the first few hours of the... ah... initial ayan poisoning episode. But there is evidence that this has been somewhat exacerbated by the prolonged period of strenuous activity together with... ah, shall we say, stressful circumstances involving stimulation of the adrenal cortex––’
‘Is that specialist terminology for getting shot, beaten up, watching my friends get killed and eaten by sharks––’
‘Shh!’ hisses Alis. ‘You’ll have to put up with specialist-speak if you want your results.’
I relapse into resigned silence.
‘Ah, now where was I?’ Webern frowns at his notes again, then takes a deep breath and lays them aside. ‘To put it a little more succinctly, you have burned through a few more synapses than is good for you. There is evidence that your nascent truthseer ability has been over-extended by the ayan overload and is only likely to function again with further applications of the drug. Which I hasten to add, is most inadvisable. As well as illegal at the present time.’ He glances at Alis for confirmation. She nods, but doesn’t elaborate. Webern avoids my gaze as he continues.
‘The relapses into ayan-effect are quite common with this sort of thing and will dissipate over time. But your tests reveal gaps in your lieth concentration that will never quite heal. I believe you have noticed this phenomenon yourself over the last few days. It will continue to happen. Probably not very often, but when it does, it will put your life in danger.’
My mouth is dry with nervous tension, making it difficult to get the words out.
‘So what does that mean?’
I knew all along really. Severin knew...
Janna breaks the silence, shaping words around my mounting fears.
‘It means you won’t be able to travel alone in the wilderness the way Webdancers can. Without backup, one lapse of focus could be your last––’
I don’t wait for the rest, fleeing out of the door and into Severin’s room. He seems to have been anticipating this and is still awake, moving awkwardly further along the hover couch to make a bit more space for me. I fling myself onto the soft blue cushions, barely remembering in time to be careful about hugging someone with broken ribs.
He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his head against my hair, his voice soft and close to my ear.
‘Tell me exactly what they said.’
‘You knew! You knew all along what they’d say!’
‘Hannik, of course I didn’t know the details. But I’ve been noticing the sudden gaps in your focus. One minute you’d be so sharp, so brilliant, and then you’d be lost. Sometimes just for a few seconds, and then you’d be back and it made no difference. And other times...’ He pulls me closer, failing to stifle a faint gasp of pain from the sharp jab of the fracture as he reaches for my hand. ‘So tell me what they did say.’
‘I can’t join the Webdancers. I’d probably get myself killed the first time I went out solo ranging. And I’ll never forget the way I failed you back at Vander’s apartment. I missed several chances to get control of Talaya. You could have died while I stood there being as much use as a bowl of spaghetti.’
He kisses my tear-stained cheek. ‘Utterly entrancing spaghetti though.’
I try to laugh but can’t quite manage it.
‘I have no idea what to do now. Joining the Order was the only thing I’ve ever dreamed of.’
‘Hannik, I’m going to be selfish and say I’m glad. For myself. Because if you disappear into the wilderness I’ll never get to see you except every few years if I’m lucky. And now, maybe I might.’ He hesitates. ‘If you want to, that is.’
I look up at him through the tears. ‘Why would you want to spend time with a failure like me?’
‘That’s Vander-style thinking. Saroyan told me about him while we were waiting for Doc What’s-his-name to prepare his tests. But you’re nothing like Vander. You don’t need to put on the success act to make someone love you.’ He looks away awkwardly. ‘I mean...’
Janna walks in and leans against the doorway, arms folded across her chest.
‘Now you’ve had a good cry about the bad news, are you ready to hear the rest of it?’
‘Janna, it can only get worse.’ I don’t feel ready for any more disasters.
‘Only if you let it get worse. Yes, you’ve missed out on being a medium-skilled truthseer, which you probably could have trained for if you hadn’t overdone it with the ayan. And as a Webdancer you can’t go solo in Eden or far west Karesh. Or Bergen. But you happen to be what in the old days was called a polymath. Someone with a broad range of skills. Your gestalt enables you to synthesize your resonance attunement with your understanding of tec, and that’s rare. With the kind of coaching I can give you, plus some intensive tec study, you’ll be only the second person to fully combine the two disciplines.’
‘So who was the first?’
‘Me.’ Janna allows herself a triumphant smile. ‘I followed up my university studies and research by going back to Rhangaran to field-test my team’s prototypes on Webdancer patrols in the wilderness and the ocean around the islands. It’s about time someone came along who could put those twin skills to work in other ways.’
‘How can I train as a Webdancer if I can’t go solo?’
‘You’ll explore wild areas with a small group of us as backup in case your focus flips out at the wrong moment. Your incredible potential to develop a new skill-synthesis means you’re well worth the extra time-investment. And you’ve already proved you have the determination to see it through.’ Janna catches the pained look Severin is valiantly trying to hide. ‘I’ll go back to the others. Let you two talk about it a bit more.’
There’s a long silence after she goes out. Finally Severin manages to find words.
‘It’s a second chance, Hannik. A good one. I shouldn’t have said what I did. If I’d known...’
I sit with my head in my hands for a few moments.
‘I need to sleep on this. There has to be a way...’
.
.
Epilogue
.
.
Oceanside plaza has never been so busy, yet the scene is nothing like the usual parade of smartly dressed citizens intent on leisure or shopping. Not a silk robe or bulging swag-bag in sight. Everyone here has exchanged elegance for old clothes as they work in teams, passing bundles of crushed merchandise and broken display cabinets hand to hand to be dumped in the giant haul-bags waiting for collection.
Ravan is doing his best to direct operations but from time to time he just stops and stares as if he can’t quite believe what is happening, his round face creased in a kind of benign perplexity.
‘Ravan? You all right?’ I struggle out of the shop clutching the display cabinet of liqueur bottles that had been my first project of the two days I’d worked for him in the emporium. Somehow it has survived intact.
‘What should I do with these?’
‘Oh. Over there.’ He points to a large table being set up in the middle of the square. ‘There’s quite a lot of undamaged food after all, so I thought we’d collect it and make a nice picnic for everyone when we’re halfway through.’ He gazes around the milling scene of activity again. ‘Who would have thought so many people would just arrive and offer to help?’ He gives an emotional sniffle. ‘It is very moving.’
‘Well, we’ve quite a bit more moving to do if we want to finish, so get busy directing operations again!’ Alis heaves a pile
of cheeses onto the end of the table before disappearing back into the wrecked emporium.
‘She has been most kind,’ mumbles Ravan, his gaze drifting from her retreating back to the large framed photograph of Vander he has set up outside the shop, already generously surrounded by tokens of flowers and messages. ‘To find such a nice picture of him...’
Not for the first time, I glance at the photo and the growing display of lavish offerings surrounding it.
If only you knew how kind.
But I will never, ever tell him it’s a frame from one of Alis’ surveillance cameras on the wasp. Or that she had delivered it with such a heavily-edited description of how Vander had died while courageously saving my life.
‘No-one is going to get hurt by a rosy version of that story,’ she’d said earlier this morning as she deleted certain parts of her records. ‘And it’ll make Ravan a much happier man if he has something positive to remember his nephew by.’
Watching the admiring glances being directed at the image of the handsome celebrity, I can’t help wishing Vander could have had a preview of all this while he was still alive.
He’s a hero. Everyone loves him. And this is probably the sort of story he’d have woven for himself if he’d had the chance.
‘He was from your combat class wasn’t he?’ Alexin is standing behind me, leaning on the length of broken shelving he has just dragged outside. It’s going to take me a while to get used to this new version of father. A key intelligence researcher whose cover as a middle-grade government bureaucrat I’m supposed to maintain at all costs. I wonder how much he has already found out about Vander.
Then I decide I’ll let him volunteer the information if he wants to. I’ve already rehearsed Alis’ version of cover story.
‘Yes. A pity he walked into such a dangerous situation.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Spoken by someone who seems to be making a habit of it.’
