Shield of Drani (World of Drani Book 1)

by Melonie Purcell

  Taymar’s first jump took her to the mind of a person in Ranealla’s group. Taymar jerked her telepathy back, but not before she felt a brush of curiosity from the other telepath. But she didn’t follow Taymar’s thoughts this time, which gave her hope. Her second try landed her in the thoughts of a woman repairing one of the generators in the stream. The woman didn’t have the connections Taymar needed, but her partner did.

  As Taymar hopped from mind to mind, the atrium faded further into the distance until it was finally replaced by the machines in the engine room. One of the tiny people wearing the dress that covered his feet scurried out the door, and the man whose mind Taymar was borrowing watched the little creature’s exit in confusion. Shaking his head, he eventually turned back to the panels in front of him, ran his callused finger along a slide bar display, and then turned to watch the rows of brakeal. Taymar quietly encouraged him to keep watching the dense crystal and gently teked the surface.

  The crystal cylinders were about three fingers thick and a little longer than an average person’s hand. Brakeal was actually mined as a powder and formed into cylinders that, when charged, gave off an explosion of energy and created the jump fields that allowed a ship to tunnel. Most brakeal was basically allowed to form into rough crystals and then shaped afterward. It was risky to use because if the field it created was warped, the ship might not launch through the jump field correctly, which meant it might not come out. But Arlele-formed brakeal was different. It was teked into a meticulously designed crystal that created a perfect jump sphere every time, and, since the bonds would break in a controlled order, the powdery byproduct could still be used to power the daily operations of the ship.

  This particular row of brakeal cylinders was a mixed batch. Some had been worked on by an Arlele, but most were the raw, chaotic type, which meant the fuel source wouldn’t live as long. While that was bad for the captain, it was great for Taymar. The more natural the brakeal, the lower its ability to self-correct.

  Taymar was just beginning to bump the crystalline bonds toward a reaction when Ranealla’s thought form broke through Taymar’s focus.

  Chapter 16 – Brakeal

  Nevvis watched Taymar and the too-perfect telepath disappear around the corner. She probably would have been less dangerous locked in the cabin, but only marginally so. Not without additional securities put in place. At least with Ranealla there, Taymar would be entertained, providing the meeting didn’t last overlong.

  “Well, now. There’s something I didn’t bloody well expect to see.”

  “I have to admit to being a little bit surprised myself. But that’s Arleles for you.” Nevvis turned to the captain and motioned toward the door. “I assume you wish to continue our conversation from earlier?”

  Sean nodded and swiped open the door. “I would, but we need to discuss the attack.”

  Nevvis followed him in and resumed his seat across the desk. They had already covered roles of Dran and Arleles in Drani society. The questions pouring out of Sean’s mind had been difficult to categorize without making him aware of just how open his mind was. Although he had done a fair job of shielding for a non-telepath, his efforts were essentially useless in the face of Nevvis’s telepathy. But since he seemed particularly concerned about not having his “mind read,” as he phrased it, Nevvis had tread carefully, which made the conversation painfully slow.

  This time, Sean didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Someone leaked the location of your intel to the Shreet,” he said as he took his seat across from Nevvis. “Your side or my side, I don’t bloody know, but somehow the Shreet found out, and if that ship really did have the layout of that damned base or information on the flux, it’s a loss that could have shifted this whole ruddy war.”

  “They were there. My source wouldn’t have gotten that wrong.”

  “Well, it’s pretty damned convenient that they were never verified, wouldn’t you say?”

  Nevvis cocked his head. Sean’s intent was clear enough even without the telepathic input. “Captain Sean. What reason could I possibly have to lie about that?”

  “That promised intel sure got you buddied up to the Alliance in a raging hurry, now didn’t it?”

  “No. Having brakeal got us buddied up to whomever we decided to buddy up with,” Nevvis replied, deciding to dispense with the pleasantries himself. “The Shreet raided us because we turned them away. The same way we have turned the Alliance away repeatedly. We could just have easily opted to join the Shreet instead of you. It would have been easier, and many people in our government were pushing in that direction. When it became clear we were going to be forced into this war, we decided to back the Alliance. I daresay that decision may have turned this war more than a set of schematics.”

  Nevvis rested his arm on Sean’s desk and looked straight into the man’s green eyes. “As you know, Drani is the only source of brakeal in this part of the galaxy. You either get it from us or go a very long distance out of the way to get your own, and what you get isn’t anywhere near the quality we can provide. We own this war, Captain. And we have decided the Alliance should win it.”

  The litany of venom spewing from Sean’s mind was almost comical, but his visible calm was equally impressive. As the captain returned Nevvis’s stare and calmed his mind, he marked himself as a non-telepath worth keeping an eye on. When he finally spoke, his mind was completely focused once again. “Your government. You have a council that rules the entire planet, do you? A council of Dran?”

  Nevvis nodded. “A council of thirteen people who remain anonymous. The tanku is the voice of the council. Nothing more. Each region has a series of lower councils that are responsible for local ordinances. They ultimately report to Sinku, or Leading Council.”

  “And according to Taymar, you are on this Sinku?”

  “Captain, you cannot lie to a telepath. Taymar didn’t tell you I was on…just call it Leading Council. That’s the Universal for it.”

  “She suggested it. Strongly.”

  They were at a precipice in their relationship, and Nevvis knew that he could turn it to his advantage or doom it right now. He drew a deep breath and focused on Sean’s mind. Telling him the truth was one thing, but leaving the memory there unaltered for others to see was something else entirely. “I am a member of the Leading Council.” As he spoke, Nevvis manipulated the thoughts in Sean’s head to turn his confession back into the suspicion that was already there. “That information needs to be forgotten. Remember, when you are around telepaths, your mind leaks.” The suggestion that he forget the details combined with Nevvis’s efforts meant that by tomorrow even Sean wouldn’t be sure what was real and what wasn’t.

  “Fair enough.”

  The man’s mind shifted back to understanding the symbiosis of the Arlele/Dran society that was so foreign to him. In the interest of time, Nevvis decided to take charge, even if it meant pushing the captain too far. “Captain, if I may. As you have seen, Arleles are violent, unpredictable people with a tremendously dangerous ability. Not all are as capable as Taymar. Her dual abilities make her especially challenging, but they are all deadly. Left ungoverned, they would destroy themselves. We, the Dran, are the only reason the Arleles have survived as a species. And the Dran are the reason we have the scientific advances that have protected our planet up to now.”

  Nevvis sat back and forced his body to relax. True to his expectation, Sean mirrored his action. “Dran have a shakiu. It’s an organ in our brains that gives us a psychic connection to the Arleles through their psy-receptor, which is located in their brain. When a Dran taps the shaki, the Arlele’s psy-receptor, it causes a physical reaction in the Arlele ranging from a tingle to death. We call that tagging. That ability, combined with the armband technology, keeps the Arleles from killing us. And themselves.”

  “And, I daresay, it keeps them answering to you as well. It sounds like slavery all shined up and ready for guests, now doesn’t it?”

  A little sifting throug
h Sean’s thoughts helped clarify the man’s concerns. Nevvis smiled. “Arleles live their own lives. They find jobs and mates and earn credit and spend credit just like the Dran. Just like you. They are not forced to do anything for anyone. They are just prevented from doing damage.”

  “Well then, I s’pose Dran have a ki too, do they?”

  Nevvis smiled. “No. The Dran are the kis. Each Arlele has to claim a ki. That is the Dran responsible for keeping the Arlele out of trouble, for paying their bills if it comes to that, and establishing their social privilege level. The ki is most often a family member, but it can be an assigned position.”

  Sean sat silently digesting the information and pairing it with what Taymar had shared. After a short pause, he nodded. “What is this sakuritu Taymar is so afraid of? Some sort of jail, is it?”

  “Does the Alliance have jails?”

  Sean nodded. “Prisons, yes.”

  “Drani doesn’t. Our tolerance for socially destructive behavior is extremely low. If a crime is committed by an Arlele, they have three levels of interventions before they are termed.”

  “Termed?”

  “Killed. Our first option is holding. This is a punishment intended to be aversive enough to discourage a repeat experience. Our second level is now called reteaching, which is an effort to teach the Arlele how to control their behavior rather than allowing it to control them. An Arlele only gets three tries at reteaching. If the intervention doesn’t work, they are sent to sakuritu. In sakuritu, they have three months to learn control. If they do not complete sakuritu, they are termed.”

  “And what about the Dran? What’d be happening to a Dran that becomes destructive, as you put it?”

  “They are banded and sent to try their odds outside the walls. There is no tolerance for a Dran who chooses not to follow the rules. They are not Arleles. They have no excuses.”

  That shut the captain’s line of questioning down completely. He sat again in silence, trying to make Nevvis’s new perspective fit. Nevvis left him to it. What he had just heard was in direct odds with his belief system. That took some time to process. He took the moment to check on Taymar. He reached out with his thoughts to where she should be, but met only a whisper of her mental energy. Taymar’s signature was on the thoughts of the atrium, but only as an afterthought. A memory. Nevvis dug in a little harder and finally made a full connection, but she still seemed too distracted for his comfort.”

  “Are you still with me?” Sean was saying.

  Nevvis shook off the sensation and brought his attention back to the office. A quick search of the captain’s thoughts got him caught up to the part of the conversation he had missed. “Sorry, checking on Taymar. I supposed it is equally as likely that someone in my government who knew about the intel is a Shreet sympathizer as it is that the traitor is on the Alliance side. You said you already knew about the station plans from Ranealla?”

  “Yes. But someone gave the information to Ranealla. It could have gone sideways long before she got to the ship. I’d say we’ll be needing to keep our secrets a bit closer to the chest as we move forward. Is she okay?”

  “Taymar? Yes. No. I would feel better if I were near her. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss with me?”

  “You’ll get no argument from me there. But we need to decide on a new course. Those schematics were the key to our plan.”

  “This will still work.” Nevvis worked his shoulders loose as he shifted in his chair. “Taymar is now the key to our plan. We just need to get her on that ship. The schematics would have helped to be sure, but she can still complete the mission. Remember, she can read minds, as you put it. And then she can use that knowledge to manipulate physical matter. Think about that kind of power.”

  “Seems to me that kind of knowledge would make her a might too dangerous when this is all over. You’ll not be taking her back to Drani.”

  Nevvis met those green eyes again and sighed. He wasn’t going to verbalize what they both already knew. Going back to Drani was a death sentence for Taymar. “I need to go see what she is up to.”

  Sean stood. “Good enough. I am going to keep looking for our leak. I’ll leave the details of preparing your weapon to you.”

  “Well put,” Nevvis said as he stood and offered his hand to Sean in the way the Alliance people always did. He never understood these handshaking customs, but he knew they were important. Sean returned the gesture and returned to his seat as Nevvis headed toward the deck shuttle. Fortunately, there were already several people on the shuttle, and Nevvis took the opportunity to pick through their thoughts on the short ride to the Atrium. By the time the doors opened to let him off, his mind was full of meaningless details about the ship’s inhabitants instead of the dire nature of his role here on the Regal.

  One of the small beings that chattered constantly and scurried about the ship in long robes stepped off the shuttle with him and bustled up to the massive doors that marked the entrance to the Atrium. A tiny hand with only three fingers appeared from beneath the robe and swiped the door. It had barely cracked open when the creature disappeared inside. Nevvis had to run the last couple of steps to keep the door from closing on his tunic. He turned to give the dysfunctional door a once-over, and when he turned back, Ranealla’s brilliant smile greeted him. Gods, she was beautiful. He really wanted her to not be a spy.

  ###

  Ranealla’s mental cry had sounded an awful lot like a warning, but that didn’t make any sense. Without another thought, Taymar yanked her mind free of the man’s in the power-bay and centered herself back among the ferns.

  A cursory glance through Ranealla’s thoughts explained the problem. Nevvis was in the atrium, and although Ranealla was trying to hide her intentions, she was excited to see him. It hadn’t been a warning after all, just her mental exuberance.

  Looking at him from her viewpoint, Taymar couldn’t blame her. He stood near the door, commanding the room with his confident smile and penetrating amber eyes. His tawny hair was tousled enough to look casual, but never unkempt, and everything about him exuded control. Nevvis had never had a shortage of loyal followers, some lusting for him, others for his power, but all of them ready to do his bidding without questions. It seemed Ranealla was more than willing to become another admirer. And, from what she could tell, Nevvis was happy to have her.

  Although the thoughts he left unshielded relayed his enthusiasm for Ranealla’s interest, he was also marginally annoyed at the delay. He was here for a reason. No doubt, her mental journey had caught his attention. But he couldn’t know the full extent of her meddling, or he wouldn’t still be chatting with Ranealla. He wanted to catch her mind-hopping? Let him. It took little effort to reconnect with the technician working on the water-cleaning machine. He was right where she had left him, still thinking about playing some game in a rec-room when his shift ended. Taymar began sorting through those thoughts with enough determination and intensity that she didn’t hear or feel Nevvis until he touched her shoulder. When she jumped, it wasn’t an act. With any luck, he would be fooled.

  “What are you doing, Tay?” he asked as he loomed over her.

  She was still sitting on the little mats, and she would have had to all but lie down to see him. Instead, she shrugged his hand off her shoulder, sent out her irritation, closed her eyes, and prepared to make another mental jump. “I was finding out what tunneling really is and about the rec center. Apparently there is one inside the ship.”

  “You need to stay out of people’s minds.”

  Taymar looked up at him and frowned. “Did you really just say that? You?”

  “Come on,” he said, offering her his hand.

  She ignored it and hopped up. “They play games and practice shooting in the rec center also.”

  Nevvis studied her with more intensity than she would have liked before finally turning and stepping back onto the path.

  With considerable effort, Taymar shoved down her anxiety and tried to slow her thumping hea
rt as she followed him out onto the path. Nevvis turned and gave her the invasive stare he was so good at, but she just brushed it off. At least, she pretended to. Unfortunately, her nervousness was getting in the way. So to cover it up, she tried to distract him with conversation as she brushed past him and headed toward the huge doors. “Where is Ranealla?” she asked, not really caring in the least.

  “She had to go back to work. Look, we’re tunneling again.” He pointed at a portal in the ceiling, or a vid-screen designed to look like one.

  Why he had relayed that bit of information was anybody’s guess. Maybe he was just trying to bother her. It worked. The fact that they were tunneling could only mean her plan had failed, or else it was very, very late getting started.

  So intense was the panic that swept over her, Nevvis stopped dead on the path and stared. Taymar knew she had to do something, or all would be lost for sure, so before she even thought about what she was saying, Taymar blurted out, “Can we go see the navigation deck?”

  Even as the words came out of her mouth, she couldn’t believe she was saying them. Navigation was the last place she needed to be if she had any chance at all of getting off the ship. But, it was too late. The words were out.

  Unfortunately, Nevvis chose that time to do what he rarely did—grant her request. “Sure. The captain invited us. That was before the attack, but I’m sure the invitation still holds. I want to see the nav-deck myself.” He still eyed her suspiciously, but at least he started walking again. “Incidentally, Earthers—actually, most other people—have at least two names.” He swiped the door and they both rushed out through the tiny crack afforded them. “The captain’s name is Sean McCauffer. His title replaces his first name, so you should call him Captain McCauffer, not Captain Sean.”

  “Hmm,” was all the response she gave him, but Taymar did make a mental note and silently wondered how many times she had flubbed on Daryus.