“Thank you.” Gehrain nodded courteously and started down the ramp.
Aldirk watched with a vague sense of disappointment, feeling as if something were missing. He had half-expected the Head Guardian to make a snarky comment before leaving. Colonel Micah would have, and Aldirk had come to expect it after all these cycles. But Gehrain was so earnest—and so damned young. For a moment, Aldirk found himself wishing for a little of Colonel Micah’s sarcasm and gamesmanship.
Just for a moment.
As soon as the door closed behind Aldirk and Gehrain, Tal looked back at Razine. “Thank you for diverting Aldirk away from Darzen. I trust his discretion, but there are some things he doesn’t need to know.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Does that mean Parser was spying on her even back then?” Salomen asked.
“No,” Razine answered, and Tal breathed a sigh of relief. “But once he did begin collecting information, he sent an agent to that village to see what he could learn. When he discovered you had courted someone there, he made it his business to learn everything he could about Darzen. And then he used her.”
Tal rested her forehead on her hand. “Great Mother. I think I need a shower.”
“You might be interested to learn that Darzen changed her mind.”
Her head snapped up. “She did?”
“She sent a letter to that dummy philanthropic organization, saying that after your speaking tour, she had redone her calculations and come to a different conclusion. She wanted to retract the report, or at least take her name off it. Parser made sure she was informed that any attempt to discredit the report she’d been paid to produce would result in the end of her career.”
“She changed her mind,” Tal repeated in amazement. “I wonder if that was why she came to my speech in Whitemoon. I thought she was there to make her case in a more public forum, but…maybe it was just the opposite.” But then that little girl had offered such a perfect opportunity, and Tal had mercilessly gutted Darzen’s credibility in front of a worldwide audience. Her stomach twisted at the thought.
“She could have called you,” Salomen reminded her. “She’s had every opportunity to tell you she supports your policies now.”
“But Parser frightened her off. Goddess above, how many victims does he have? And the only reason he was able to use her was because of her association with me.” After all this time, Tal finally had the answer regarding Darzen’s motivation, but it didn’t make her feel better.
She watched Razine take another sip of water, her hands still slightly shaky. It had clearly been a long and arduous session.
“Colonel, I know you could use a rest, so I won’t keep you much longer,” she said. “There’s just one more thing I wanted to know.”
“I can guess what you’re going to ask, and the answer is yes. It was personal.”
Salomen looked back at Tal with a furrowed brow. “What was personal?”
“Parser’s plan. When the colonel said he would have gotten his desired outcome whether I cooperated or not, she wasn’t telling all of it. I asked her to keep that part private.”
“It’s true that his main objective was a Lancer under his thumb,” Razine said. “But he certainly had a preference as to which Lancer it would be. He wanted Lancer Tal in his power.”
“But why her in particular?”
“Was it really because of the Redmoon disaster?” Tal asked.
“That’s where it began. Ironically, it was because Parser assumed you knew more than you did. When you singled him out in front of the entire Council and ordered him to control the corruption in his caste, he thought you were sending him a message. He already had half a dozen enterprises going by then, though none of them had anything to do with providing materials for the fusion facility. So he assumed that you were warning him of his ruin unless he acted against his own caste.”
“He thought it was political blackmail?” Great Mother, had all of this started because she’d been angry during a Council session?
“Well, it was,” Razine pointed out. “You threatened him with legislation against the merchant caste if they didn’t come up with a plan on their own. But he thought it was personal blackmail.”
“He weighed your grain by his own half bin,” Salomen said.
Both Tal and Razine looked at her. “I haven’t heard that one,” said Tal.
“You’re not a producer. It refers to someone who puts a false bottom and a weight in a bin, then sells it as a full bin of grain. Anyone who cheats that way will assume others are cheating, too. Parser doesn’t deal fairly, so he assumed you weren’t either.”
“Then he realized that you didn’t know about his activities,” Razine said. “And for reasons I still don’t fully understand, that made him dislike you even more. He hated your ethics and the fact that you would judge his lack of them so harshly.”
“So instead of cleaning up his own code of honor, he decided to bring mine down to his level.”
“And provide long-term security to his network at the same time. Which of course had grown tremendously due to the very task force you ordered him to help create.”
“Fahla, what a mess. And I was oblivious. The only reason I found any of this out was because Parser finally made an enemy who was willing to talk.”
“Because he lost his entire business to him. It was Parser’s idea to infiltrate Donvall’s smuggling ring with a man of his own and plant the idea of recruiting high empaths. He knew that would bring you running.”
“And he was right. I took out the entire ring, except for his man, and left him free to take over the business!” Tal slapped the table. “I feel like a shekking tile. Parser played me wherever he wanted.”
“I’m afraid he played you even more than you know. He wanted you to find out. He made sure Donvall heard about his business being taken over, knowing he’d be angry enough to tip someone off. Parser knew that if you learned that the Anti-Corruption Task Force was in fact corrupt, you’d take it personally and hunt it down to the source. That whole scene in the Blacksun Base detention unit—he planned all of that out. His strategy was to get himself detained, then freed with a public apology from you. After that, he’d have you where he wanted you. Remember the security vid of your interview with him? He’s already shown that to former Ambassador Frank, to prove that he controlled you.”
Tal remembered the horrible feeling of watching every possible door slam shut while she’d spoken with Parser in his cell. It felt a bit like that even now.
“And yet Parser is the one who warned us about Ambassador Frank,” she said. “He told the High Council that it took a merchant to know a merchant, and that Frank didn’t give a dokker’s ass about Alsean interests because he was here to control the import and export markets.”
“Which was perfectly true,” Razine said. “Parser just didn’t mention the part where he’d already made agreements with Frank. Then he made sure the ambassador was kicked off the planet before he could make agreements with any other Alseans.”
“So even Ambassador Frank ended up shekked by Parser.” Was there anyone on or off this planet who hadn’t been outsmarted by that little fantenshekken?
Salomen slid her hand over Tal’s. “Parser is in prison now. His plan failed. And Shantu will fail as well. It’s over, Andira.”
“I wish I had your confidence. It’s not over until Shantu shares Parser’s cell and I have the assured loyalty of my caste. Right now I’m too jumpy to assume anything. And I still have a nagging feeling that Shantu has more in his pocket than I can see.”
“Perhaps you’ll see it better when you’re not so tired.”
Tal sighed. “Perhaps.” She looked up at Razine, whose exhaustion was all too evident. “Perhaps we all need to take a break and look at this again when we’re fresh. Colonel, I know you were up late l
ast night and early this morning. Take the rest of the day off.”
“Lancer Tal, this is hardly the time—”
“This is precisely the time when I need you at your best,” Tal interrupted. “Leave it to the politicians now, and get some rest. That’s an order.”
Razine gave her a tiny smile. “I suppose I could use a nap.”
“You and me both. Thank you, Colonel. You’ve been invaluable these last few days.”
“It’s my duty and my honor.” Razine signed off, leaving the room in silence.
“Will the Lancer obey her own order?” Salomen asked.
“I’m not sure I can. I’m too wound and too worried.”
“Then come to our quarters and let me try to relax you.”
“Tyrina, I don’t think—”
“That’s not what I meant. There are other ways to relax, you know. Or is that something I need to teach you?”
Tal pretended to consider it. “I’m willing to learn.”
“Good.” Salomen rose, tugging Tal up with her. “Because I’m an excellent instructor.”
Tal followed her out, thinking about instructors, which made her think about Micah, which wasn’t the best of ideas at the moment. Her worry for him, always active in the background, quickly came to the front and expanded until it overwhelmed everything else. It was horribly unfair that he should be gone just when she needed him so much.
“By the way, we still need to send Aldirk in to Share with Colonel Micah,” said Salomen.
The very thought of it lifted some of the clouds in Tal’s head. “It might be worth suggesting, just to see the look on his face,” she said as they stepped off the ramp.
“Whose face, Aldirk’s or Colonel Micah’s?”
Tal reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Thank you.”
Salomen glanced over and smiled, her understanding clear to Tal’s senses. Hand in hand, they walked across the landing pad, while behind them the two Guards at the base of the ramp fastened their coats against the late morning breeze.
CHAPTER 48:
Stuck in the web
Parser woke with a gasp and instinctively slammed his eyes shut again. He was afraid of…of what? Something. Something had terrified him, but he couldn’t quite remember.
Was it here, in this room?
His breathing was too rapid, too loud. If something was in this room, it knew he was awake. He would fool it by pretending to be asleep.
But slowing his breath just made him desperate for more air, and he ended up gasping loudly, filling his lungs in relief, terrified at the same time that he had given himself away.
His eyes flew open.
He was on a bed, in a small room full of equipment. It was brightly lit—no dark corners for something to hide in. Whatever was after him, it wasn’t here.
Relieved, he tried to sit up but found himself immobile. What? No! If he couldn’t move, he couldn’t get away! They had left him here to die!
He jerked his arms, kicked out with his legs, thrashed as hard as he could. Nothing worked. His wrists and ankles were locked in straps, held against the rails at the sides of the bed, and a broad strap across his chest pressed him down.
He screamed, then coughed. His throat hurt, as if he had already screamed too many times. What had they done to him? Who were they? Why couldn’t he remember?
The door opened, and he went stiff in terror.
“For Fahla’s sake, shut up!” A big man moved into his line of sight and checked the straps around his wrists. “I had to listen to you scream all morning. Don’t start again now.”
Parser licked dry lips. “You…you have to let me go. I can pay. I’ll make it worth your while.”
The man laughed. “You couldn’t pay a dokker to kick right now.”
“But if you let me go—”
“After what I heard this morning, there aren’t enough cinteks on Alsea to make me let you go.” The man leaned over, shoving his face much too close. “You were going to kill a little boy. You called him a tile. A game piece to be played. Where I come from, we have names for people like you.” He smiled suddenly. “And where you’re going, they have other names.”
Where was he going? He couldn’t remember that, either.
Wait. There was something about being underground…
The Pit! They were going to put him in the Pit!
“No,” he whispered. He couldn’t go there. That wasn’t part of the plan.
The man turned to check his ankle straps. “Sometimes I think five levels aren’t enough.” With a snort of disgust, he walked out and slammed the door behind him.
Parser’s heart hammered in his ears. Not the Pit. He would die there. He wasn’t meant to live in a place like that. He was meant for bigger things, greater things. Shantu would…
Would what?
He combed through his brain, trying to remember. Slowly, it came back to him. Shantu had said he had a foolproof plan. Parser hadn’t wanted to know about it then, but he did now. His life depended on Shantu’s plan.
Would he murder Lancer Tal?
It seemed like the sort of unimaginative, blunt-weapon idea Shantu would go with. Just remove the competition and dodge the shrapnel afterward.
But he didn’t see how that could work. Shantu might have gotten away with assassination before, but he was a fugitive now. He would be the first one suspected. It had to be something else.
Think, he told himself. If you were Shantu, what would you do?
CHAPTER 49:
Dream job
Vellmar thought the scene looked eerily familiar as Colonel Micah’s stretcher was brought into the transport. But this time there was no blood, no oxygenator, and no pressure sack, and Lancer Tal appeared rested and in control as she spoke to the healer.
The Guards had spent the remainder of yesterday continuing the Sharing rotation, and Vellmar had taken part twice more before giving up and returning to base early in the evening. She had slept for eight straight hanticks, making up for the night before, and by the looks of her warriors, they had all done the same.
This time she was sitting in the front row, having no need for a quiet space to prepare for a mission. She was also feeling a great deal more confident about her role and less inclined to remove herself from the group. Over the past three days, these warriors had become her Guards, her unit, and she knew she had already earned their respect. It was a tricky thing to come into an established unit and replace a well-liked commanding officer, but their mission had given her the opportunity to pack three moons’ worth of proving herself into a single day. Thank the Goddess she hadn’t blown it.
She hoped she had earned the Lancer’s respect as well. Most of the time she felt positive about it, but Lancer Tal had a front like a stone wall, and her face didn’t give much away either. Except when she looked at Colonel Micah or Raiz Opah. Especially Raiz Opah—anyone with eyes could see how the Lancer felt about her.
A large body loomed in her peripheral vision, and Senshalon sat next to her.
“Every time I see him, I expect him to open his eyes,” he said, looking for the straps to his harness.
“I know. Me too.” Vellmar watched him struggling and finally knocked his hands away. “How do you function without normal-sized people to help you with things like this?” She located his strap ends and handed them to him.
“That’s why Fahla made small people like you.” He flashed her a smile as he attached the harness.
“I am not small.” Vellmar towered above every other Guard except Gehrain and Senshalon, and her height was something she had always been a tiny bit vain about.
“You are compared to me.”
There wasn’t much she could say to that, so she contented herself with popping open one of his harness buck
les.
“Why, you—”
“You’re not about to say anything you might regret, I hope.”
He glared at her, but the expression soon gave way to an open grin. “No, Lead Guard.”
“Good.” She smiled and looked past him at the healer, who was taking his own seat as near to the colonel as he could get. The Lancer vanished into the fore corridor, no doubt to spend the flight in her private cabin with Raiz Opah. The engines spun up to full strength, and she felt the slight jar of the transport lifting off.
“It’s good to see her back to normal,” Senshalon said in an undertone. “The colonel’s injury hit her hard.”
“I think it hit everyone hard.”
“Oh, it did. But you didn’t see her in that basement. Dewar said she looked absolutely lost. And when I saw her a few ticks later, she still seemed like someone had kicked all the fight out of her. I’ve never seen her like that before, and I never want to again.”
“You really respect her, don’t you?” she asked curiously.
“Of course! Don’t you?”
“Are you joking? I would have given up my salary for the opportunity to work with her. For that matter, I’d have paid to do it. It’s just that…” She paused, trying to think of a way to put it. “I’ve never been in a unit before where the directing officer was so…familiar with her warriors. She doesn’t keep the kind of distance I would have expected.”
“Maybe not with you. She treats us like professionals, but she’s usually pretty reserved. I think that’s how she is with most people, though, not just us. But she’s been different lately. We think it’s Raiz Opah.”
“Different how?”
“A little more open. And she laughs more…and she even took the time to help Varsi over her newbie nerves.”
As a newbie herself, Vellmar pricked up her ears at that. “What did she do with Varsi?”
“Took her aside and told her that she valued her opinions. Varsi was walking a body length off the ground.”
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 38
