Evading The Tempest (Tempest tales Book 1)

by Sandra Elsa

  "I've got this," I grumped, pointing at the door.

  He smiled and left. "Back in five."

  I succeeded in taking care of business and hopping on my good foot out the door before he returned. Incredible how getting myself out of the bathroom improved my mood. I wasn't totally dependent.

  "Doctor said to stay off it for two weeks," he said and picked me up.

  He carried me to the living room and synched his handheld to the monitor taking up one wall. "Anything you want to watch?"

  I stared at him blankly for a moment before it sank in that he was asking about entertainment. "Let's find a news feed. I'd love to know what your father's up to."

  "No. I meant entertainment. I'm going to go find us some food and I don't need you all worked up when I come back."

  "I rarely do entertainment. Wouldn't have a clue what's available."

  "You can't have worked all the time."

  "Went hunting. Did a lot of exercise. But mostly, I worked."

  "Dates?"

  "I have better ways to waste my time."

  "So Sergeant Wallin was special then."

  "He was a good friend. I didn't want to hurt him by saying I didn't want to go out. It's doubtful it would have gone anywhere. I'd have figured out which buttons to push to make him go away sooner or later. Or he'd have gotten over it when I wouldn't sleep with him."

  "How can you know where a relationship will end up before you even start it?"

  "My mother was a hooker, impregnated against her will while using birth-control that was supposed to be fail-safe. I don't sleep around."

  "I didn't necessarily mean that you might have ended up in bed. What if he stuck with you through all your attempts to make him go away? What if he asked you to marry him?"

  "I'm not the kind of person someone imagines spending their life with. Wally would have been game, but I'd have driven him off in the end. That's just me. It's why I have no problem getting married to irritate your father. I don't ever see myself married because I fall madly in love with someone and actually want him to be part of my life."

  He shrugged and passed me his handheld. "You do know how to turn on the entertainment features right?" His voice was joking.

  "Yes." My answer was curt. I'd found it on mine. His was different but I didn't need him leaning over me showing me how to do something like I was a child.

  It took me five minutes to figure it out once he was gone. Then I browsed through the entertainment offerings and finally ended up on a NewsNet. President Drover was featured in a blurb. Something about a conference to discuss the problem of overpopulation in several of the domes, and the air quality in some of the manufacturing domes. Both items were constant issues. This conference started four days from now. A perfect opportunity.

  The news feed went on to talk about drug trafficking in the Founding Two Hundred. I listened with interest as they spoke of drugs found in District Three. The news moved on to crime in District Two-thousand-forty-two. Someplace across the Atlantic, and I lost interest. I picked up Harrison’s handheld and started searching the net for mentions of either of our names. I found it a bit disturbing that there wasn't more out there. Every mention of my name had something to do with my business as an investigator. There was mention of the grisly find in Eleven and two older cases. And of course there was a little blurb about the Girlo incident. That had happened five years ago. You'd think it would fade away. More disturbing than my own lack of mention was Harrison's. I didn't even find the missing notice that had been posted a week and a half ago. If they were no longer concerned about him being missing, either I was being set up or...there was no or. If he wasn't missing, they knew where he was.

  I took the back doors into the watch's system and rooted through it, looking for any mention of myself or Harrison. Could he possibly be that good an actor? There was a watch posted on my office and my residence consisting of District Eight and District Two troopers. To all appearances, HQ had backed off completely. If the whole thing had been a setup, what was the point? Could they have known about me before this whole charade began? Did their plans require a null and I fit neatly into them. Maybe not neatly, but had they figured out how to push my buttons?

  Out of curiosity I searched for the facts behind the news story on drugs while I was already in HQs system. Thirteen pounds of krennet and five pounds of jin had been found at a crime scene. The owners of the house had been under investigation for other crimes. The drugs were found along with two nearly dead males. I scanned through the rest of the report. Sure enough, there was the Ludovissy’s address. Great…the trifecta. Unregistered siphons, President’s relatives as victims and illegal drugs. This kept getting better and better. No wonder she killed herself.

  I started pondering the source of the drugs. I’d run into more than a few dealers over the years. Just about anything was legal in District Eleven. District Three was another story. Jin was mild. A recreational drug heavily used by rebellious teens. Krennet was another thing entirely. Even in District Eleven its use was frowned upon. It was highly addictive and made productive people into slugs who did little more than look for their next rock. Five pounds of it was probably worth close to five-hundred-thousand dollars. Not a great amount on the grand scheme but certainly enough I suspect HQ had things to do besides track me down.

  Probably a tossup. After all, Johnny Girlo was one of the biggest distributors inside and outside of District Eleven and my name had been connected to his in the past. Wouldn’t surprise me to find out I was wanted on trumped up drug charges. To their credit there weren’t any warrants out for my arrest. If I wanted to keep it that way maybe I needed to track down the source of the drugs.

  Had the siphons belonged to the president or did they belong to an enemy? If they belonged to the president, could he possibly be responsible for the drugs?

  Much as I disliked the man on general principal I didn’t think he fit the druglord mold. Which took me back to the conclusion that somebody else was after the president’s family. My first thought was another Sevener, but how could they be certain not to fall victim themselves? Maybe the drugs were the key…a non-magical was safe from the siphons…but it all stank of District Seven. Maybe a druglord in cahoots with a Sevener. And here’s me tangled in the middle…

  My mind wandered back to Harrison.

  Nobody could have planned for me to break my leg, giving him the chance to get closer to me than a week as a client would have permitted. I was a null; had they developed ways to use magic against me? No. The suppression unit had been working the president wouldn't even have been able to affect the rocks under my feet. Wouldn't somebody somewhere know if mages had gotten around either the immense generator or the natural protection of a null? It would certainly explain all the coincidence of my involvement. But Jerry had nearly been killed. He couldn't have been part of the plot. Were they ready to sacrifice one of their own?

  If even half the suspicions growing in my mind were fact, I probably shouldn't be using his handheld to perform my searches

  I looked around the room, four doors opened off of it. Three were closed. Through the open one I could see an oven and a refrigerator. I chanced that the one next to it would be the dining room since no table was visible. The bathroom was down a short hall. I decided the remaining doors had to be bedrooms. Had he put my belongings in one of them? If so which one?

  I sent the spell tracking the handheld's personal ident and location, bouncing around multiple districts then deleted the history. I held my leg off the ground and hopped a couple steps then paused to catch my balance. Three more hops brought me to the nearest wall and I leaned against it, panting, pain shooting up my leg from the jarring of hopping. I lowered myself to the floor and crawled to the nearest door, dragging the cast behind me.

  Rising to my knees, I twisted the knob and flung the door open. My olive green tote lay in a corner of the room and I crawled through the door toward it. The front door opened as I pulled my handheld out of
the bag, along with my nine. I removed the magazine and examined the bullets. They hadn't been tampered with.

  "Frankie?"

  I remained silent a moment. Let him sweat.

  "Francesca?" Footsteps crossed the room. He must have noticed the open door. He stood framed in the doorway staring at me as I slid the magazine back in the nine. "Why didn't you answer? God I imagined all kinds of things having happened to you between the door and here. How did you get here?"

  "How do you think I got here?" Sarcasm overwhelmed the question.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing."

  "Didn't like my handheld?" He nodded at mine sitting beside me, having taken second place to the nine-mil.

  "I have some personal business to take care of."

  "Is that safe?"

  "It is for me."

  He switched tracks. "You hungry?"

  My stomach rumbled as he held up a pizza. "Some. Would you mind just leaving me a couple slices in here?"

  "What's wrong? Don’t tell me nothing. It's rather obvious something's bothering you, and I get the feeling it's me."

  "Please don't try to analyze me every time my mood changes. I need my space. You've been up my ass far too long now. If you don't want to leave the pizza that's fine I'm sure I can have something delivered." I kept my voice cold and distant. He could take his friendship and shove it. They'd managed to distance me from the people I knew and trusted. Even without breaking my ankle the results of meeting the president had been a foregone conclusion. Either he'd know I was a null and force my registration, Or he'd have evidence of illegal activity, in the form of my suppression pendants I used as props, and I’d either be on the run or in jail. My way had just worked out so much better for their plans. How could I be so stupid?

  Chapter 18

  Harrison turned around and left the room, returning moments later with a plate holding four slices of pizza. "I don't know what happened while I was out, but if you need your space, you have it. Just remember I paid you for a week of your time."

  I contained the urge to snarl and thanked him for the pizza. "While I'm laid up, I'll tell you what you need to know to survive outside Seven. But I'll give you your money back. I've reconsidered marrying you, even as a jest. And I've reconsidered planning any long distance trips. Once I can get around, I have friends I can go to."

  "Friends that the watch doesn't know about?"

  "I have friends all over the place and I've only once been a major point of interest in a crime so they don't have a long dossier on me.

  "Will you go to Hermly's for a new ident or try to fit back in your old life, as if my father would leave you alone?"

  "I wouldn't go to Herm. I'm afraid I may have compromised him. But there are plenty of people who will give me a new ident." He didn't need to know I possessed a half dozen identities and a blank ident kit.

  "Compromised…you mean me. Frankie you trusted me when I left, what could possibly have changed?"

  "Maybe my pain meds are wearing off enough that I can think straight. I don't trust people quickly or easily. I have close friends, people I've known for a dozen years that know less about me than you do. Something is not right with this picture and until I figure out what it is…" What? What did I expect of him? I needed him, unless I wanted to call a nurse. I couldn't be certain he was in league with his father. His emotions had been raw and open when he broke into my house. That was what had attracted me to his plight. Could they have known I was the champion of lost puppies?

  He waited patiently for me to continue.

  "The difference between us is, you chose to give up your way of life. I found myself thrust on another path by the actions of two men and I can't quite figure out if they were working together or if things happened the way they did without a plan. There is far too much coincidence involved in putting you in my life. So just keep your distance while I work some things out in my own mind."

  He bit down on his lower lip. "I'm sorry you don't trust me."

  "I don't trust anyone. The fact that I did is what set off my alarms. That, and the fact that you keep digging into me, then charmingly apologize for the question and I tell you anyway. Worming your way into my life. Offering yourself up as a rock when I need somebody."

  "And that's bad?"

  "Yes."

  "Only because you never needed anyone before. I worm my way into your life because I've never been on my own. Not completely. Sure, I lived alone, but I always had family telling me what to do, where to go, what to study, what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I'm astounded by someone who is self-reliant. I want to know everything about you because I'm interested in you. If that makes me untrustworthy, I’ll stop. Please believe me when I say I'm not working with my father." He squirmed uncomfortably under my glare.

  "I can't believe something without proof."

  "How much proof do you need? He's hunting for us--"

  "Is he? Show me where? His phone calls are just a game. The missing notice that I found while I was trying to figure out who you were isn't out there anymore. Local watch are assigned to my home and my office. HQ has no interest in us at all. To me, that says he's got what he wants. What does he need a null for? And how long have you been aware of me?"

  He shook his head and stared at me, finally shrugging his shoulders and turning around.

  As he left, I said, "And if all those things were to change overnight, it would only confirm my suspicions."

  He turned around in the doorway. "All I can say is, I'm innocent. I know that won't make you trust me. But if he's using me, it's not with my knowledge and he never mentioned needing a null for any of his schemes to come together. If he had, I’d have thought he'd lost his mind because there hasn't been a registered null since it became evident that District Seven was intended as a prison for mages. There is no way to keep what you can't see. And in the early days, anybody who could, left Seven."

  He closed the door behind himself and I picked up my handheld. Time for some direct searches about nulls. There were a surprising number of articles, but many of them were repetitious and there was not much actual information. I'd never dared to look before. I was so compromised right now I didn't really care if anybody noticed me searching. One of the articles bore out Harrison's claim. Within five years of rounding up all known mages and forcing them to register, any and every null disappeared from the District. So they couldn't tag me. That much seemed true.

  Another article spoke about how the children of a null would also be a null, plus a child would inherit any magical traits of the other parent. In other words Mother was a null who could see magic. I'm a null who can see magic and turn off other peoples' magic. Wonder what else dear old dad could do? I might have untapped strengths even I didn't know about. And if I were to have a child with…say, a mage who has the power to make it rain and turn himself into a puddle, my child would have my abilities plus his. The mage breeding program began to take on more ominous aspects. Reading that article it became apparent they were hoping to find a null. Somebody they could eventually breed up to super mage.

  Yet another article discussed the theory of how a person whom no magic could affect, could in fact contain very powerful magic of their own. I noted with interest that this article was written by Harold Jallahan, head of R&D at MNU.

  After I soaked up everything I could find about nulls, I began searching for information on mages who could control the weather. They were nearly as rare as nulls although the records went back far beyond domes. Beyond the time of no magic. Back to Merlin himself. The trait was not genetically passed on; it appeared to crop up arbitrarily. There were rumors that a weather mage had in fact been responsible for reducing the world to domes. However that was disputed in many places with evidence of mankind's poor stewardship of the land. The pollution that had made growing crops nearly impossible had built for many long years before the weather had changed so drastically.

  I read on into the night and somewhere alo
ng the way I began to realize that no matter whose plan it was, if I could help rebuild the world outside the domes, it would be something worth doing. Once we got a start to it, we could worry about who would rule it.

  Still awake when the sun peeped through the bedroom window, I looked up abruptly when a knock sounded on my door. "Come in."

  Harrison opened the door and stood in it for a moment. I wondered if he was expecting to get hit with something before I realized his eyes searched the bed, finally latching onto me, still on the floor where he'd left me last night. "Didn't you sleep?"

  "Slept most of the day."

  "I was up watering the garden when I noticed you left your pain medication on the roof. Thought you might need it."

  "Pretty early to be watering the garden."

  "The plants get the most benefit from it if you water late at night or early morning before the heat evaporates it. Besides I didn't sleep at all last night."

  "I suppose you're going to blame me for that."

  "Of course." He walked through the door and came over to sit on the bed, his knees beside my shoulder. "I'm sorry you don't trust me. I wish there was something I could do to change that, but I realize there probably isn't. I'd still like to try starting a new colony outside the domes. I swear Father never mentioned a need for a null in any of his plans. I'll swear on anything you want me to."

  "I believe you." I scrolled back through the articles I’d read to the one about the genetic peculiarities of nulls. "This is why he wanted us together. He wants his own little army of weather wizards. And I'm willing to believe you were as much a pawn as I. If you weren't, you're a far better actor than anybody in Forty-five. I'm sorry about last night. Coming off the pain meds was like waking up and realizing I'd been caged while I slept. Just so long as you know, that," I pointed to my handheld where he still perused the article I’d given him, "is not going to happen."