by R S Penney
Parel hissed as he tried to regain control of his body. Sweat rolled over his face in waves. “I won't let you do this…” he squeaked. “You're not going to use me to escape-”
Keli seized his head in both hands.
The memories she forced into his mind were brutal: images of the times she had been strapped to a table and used for perverse experiments. Then there was the lust the guards had felt whenever they looked at her.
Parel dropped to his knees, lacing fingers over the top of his head. “No, no…” he whispered, trembling as though the air had suddenly become deathly cold. “Please don't let them. Don't let them!”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him up to his feet. Maneuvering him toward the control console took some effort – some part of him was still fighting – but she slammed his palm down on the panel and watched the biometric scanner read his handprint.
Windows popped up, demanding that he input his access code. She didn't know it, but Parel was weak. His Nassai would be off balance after the torrent of painful emotion. She dug through his thoughts.
Symbols appeared in her mind's eye: Leyrian characters in smooth, flowing script. Instinct made her reach for the console, but she snapped her hand back at the last second. The biometric scanners would still be active.
Guiding Parel's hand, she input the code.
Keli shoved him to the floor, and he landed hard on his ass, covering his face with both hands as he sobbed. “Please…” the man begged, rolling onto his side. “You can't do this! You can't do this!”
She turned to the console.
A map of Earth appeared on the screen with tiny red dots representing the location of other SlipGates. There were hundreds on every continent, possibly thousands. Every major city would have at least one.
Glancing over her shoulder, Keli squinted at the fallen man. “I must ask for your forgiveness,” she said with a curt nod. “But I'm afraid you have information I'll need in order to use this device.”
She dug through his thoughts again, disjointed images flashing in her mind's eye. What little he knew of Earth's cities was laid bare before her. She saw glittering buildings under a blue sky with puffy clouds, streets filled to bursting with people. She would need a populous destination.
An idea popped into her mind.
Using Parel's knowledge of this device, she specified her destination and ordered the console to delete any record of this last trip. She didn't want anyone following her. With any luck, she would lose herself in a crowd of millions.
Keli made her way toward the Gate.
The large metal triangle stood tall and silent, the sinuous grooves along its surface beginning to glow. A moment later, they were blazing with vibrant white light.
Keli put her back to the Gate.
Some ten paces away, Parel was pushing himself up on extended arms, grunting as he struggled to regain control of himself. Her view of him was blocked by a shimmering curtain that looked very much like heat rising from a road in summer.
Then she was yanked away, leaving the station behind.
Chapter 19
When Jena stepped into Larani Tal's office, she found the lights dimmed. Somehow, she had the distinct impression that something had gone very wrong. The e-mail that had summoned her here was as vague as a politician's promise, but Larani was not the kind of woman to indulge in such word games without good reason.
The new head of the Justice Keepers sat in a big comfy chair with a tablet held up in front of her face. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly. “I did not want to discuss this over e-mail, but we have a problem.”
“So I gathered.”
Larani stood up with a grunt, scrubbing a hand over her face to brush dark hair out of her eyes. “Keli Armana has escaped,” she said, turning around. “Somehow, she was able to overpower the Keeper I assigned to guard her.”
Crossing her arms with a heavy sigh, Jena leaned against the wall. “Well, isn't that just lovely?” she asked, shaking her head. “How long ago? Was anyone hurt, and do we have any idea where she went?”
“Half an hour ago,” Larani answered. “So far as we can tell, Parel is fine. A little shaken, but he should be all right with a few days' rest. We have no idea where she went, but I want your team investigating.”
“My team?”
“Right now, you're the only people I trust,” Larani whispered. “I've ordered the Gate Room to be sealed off. No one has been in there.”
“Afraid someone might tamper with the evidence?”
“Very.”
It took some effort to keep her face smooth, but Jena pulled it off. She had nothing but sympathy for her new commanding officer. Just last week, Larani Tal had believed that the Justice Keepers were the most ethical organization in the whole damn universe. Then everything had fallen apart; first Slade, and now this.
When she tried to remember what it was like to realize that the people you worked for were not saints, Jena came up empty. The truth was she had never really trusted the people she worked for.
Puckering her lips, Jena blew out a deep breath. “Let me ask you something,” she said, starting across the room. “Have you questioned the other telepath to determine if he knew anything about this?”
Larani pressed the heels of her hands to her eye-sockets. “Raynar is in his quarters at the moment,” she answered in a rasping voice. “I doubled the guard on him and sealed the door to prevent him from leaving.”
“Well that's something.”
“Get your people on it,” Larani said. “I want a report within the hour.”
The Gate Room was pretty much just a large box of four gray walls with a metal triangle smack dab in the middle. Tall and sleek, the SlipGate shimmered in the harsh fluorescent light. Anna had grown accustomed to seeing such devices – they were a part of everyday life on her world – but now, when she looked at the damn thing, she could not help but remember Slade's narrow escape.
A large blue window filled the screen of the control console with Leyrian text in bright white characters. The list of recent departures was incomplete. According to the security cameras, Keli had dragged Parel Torvano into this room at 8:22 PM EST, but there was no record of her departure.
Closing her eyes, Anna shook her head. “Our girl is clever,” she said, backing away from the console. “Seems she deleted any record of her trip through the gate.”
Jack was at her side with his arms folded, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and his dark brown jacket. “She had access to Parel's memories,” he said with a shrug. “That probably gave her all kinds of ideas.”
Tapping her lips with one finger, Anna narrowed her eyes. “Maybe,” she muttered under her breath. “But there might be a way to track her. If I can just call up the logs of the other Gates in the system…”
She slid her fingers across the console, moving the list of departures aside so she could access the desktop. A series of icons popped up, and she chose the one that looked like a multi-tool.
The comm-window listed all the other Gates in transport range, a total of over two thousand spread across the Earth's surface. With a few quick taps, she requested a list of all Gate activity between 8:23 and 8:25 EST. Sure enough, there were dozens of results.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked.
Anna leaned over with her elbow set atop the console, covering her face with one hand. “SlipGates use a simple peer-to-peer connection,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “If one connects to another, both are listed as busy to the rest of the network.”
“So you're trying to find all the Gates that were busy when Keli escaped.”
“Yes.”
“Would that leave you with hundreds of results?”
“Yes, but we can narrow it down further.” She spread her hands over the console, enlarging a dark blue window with a blinking white cursor. The virtual keyboard popped up, and she began to type in source code. “If a man travels from Toronto to Tokyo, both Gates will be listed as busy for the exac
t same amount of time. I'm writing a program that will compare timestamps on this list of travelogues. When it finds a matched set, it will remove both of those Gates from the list of potential destinations. Hopefully, there will only be one odd man out.”
“Because the matching record was the one Keli deleted.”
“Yes.”
Coding the algorithm took the better part of ten minutes; she had to write an entire subroutine to deal with differences in time zones, and then she wanted to check over her variables to make sure the program was reading information from the right files. Just one missing piece of punctuation, and the damn thing would fail to compile.
When she was finished, she ran the program and watched as the list of active Gates shrank and shrank until only one remained. Gate 2-367-515, currently located in Rio De Janeiro. “Well, at least it's someplace warm.”
Anna called her supervisor.
A window appeared, displaying Jena behind her desk with a haggard expression. “Report,” the other woman said. “And for the love of all that's good and decent, tell me you have something.”
Anna grinned, bowing her head to the other woman. “I think we've found her,” she said with a nod. “I'm requesting permission to lead a search team to Rio De Janeiro. We should also liaise with the local police department.”
“Negative on the search team.”
“Ma'am?”
Jena's face crumpled. “You're dealing with a powerful telepath, Anna.” She leaned back and slid her chair away from the desk. “A big operation with dozens of officers will draw attention. People will be thinking about it, and Keli will sense it.”
With a heavy sigh, Jena stood and the camera was fixed on the buckle of her belt for a brief moment before reorienting itself. “We're keeping this low-pro,” she went on. “You and Jack alone for the time being.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“In the meantime, I'll have Harry make nice with the locals.”
Keli hadn't even seen much of her own planet; so to find herself alone on a foreign world was more than a little overwhelming. Overwhelming and exhilarating. This city – this glorious city filled with light and sound and thought and emotion – was unlike any other place she had ever visited. She had learned from scanning the minds of the people she passed that she was in a place called Ipanema.
The streets were narrow with traffic flowing in one direction between buildings packed so close together it felt as though she was walking through a canyon with high cliff walls. There were trees along the sidewalks and bright, colourful signs everywhere she looked. With so many lights, she couldn't even make out the stars in the night sky.
Keli walked with one hand pressed to her stomach, turning her head to take in the sights. My goodness, she thought, eyebrows rising. How do these people not go mad from all the stimuli?
Two men with deep copper skin came walking up the sidewalk toward her. One paused for a moment to smile at her, and she could sense his lust. It wasn't the same as what she had felt from the guards back on Ganymede. There was no desire to hurt or dominate her, only an appreciation of her beauty. Still, his attention was unappealing.
Keli shut her eyes. Just ignore it, she thought, shaking her head. If you make a point of frightening every man who notices you, you will very quickly draw the attention of the Justice Keepers.
She needed transportation.
The vehicles on the road to her left had all come to a stop when the traffic signal changed from green to red. She counted nearly two dozen of them, all with engines that rumbled like a growling beast.
Keli crossed her arms, pausing for a moment to lean against the trunk of a tree. How to procure one…she wondered. That will not be easy without access to the local currency.
A young woman in a white skirt and a pink sleeveless top stood on the sidewalk with a vacant expression. Even from this distance, Keli could sense that she was deep in thought. Touching her mind required very little effort.
Most people would not question it if you only read their surface thoughts. They might feel a strange sense of being watched, but unless they suspected the presence of a telepath, most people would brush it off as paranoia. It was simple enough to insert the image of a car into the woman's thoughts.
Images flashed in Keli's mind, and she began to understand. The yellow vehicles with symbols on their sides: they existed to provide transit to people who could not afford one of their own. Now she just had to acquire currency…or a workable substitute.
She also needed a place to go. This impromptu escape had left her with very little opportunity to plan; for the most part, she was making it up as she went along. How to fit in here? She would need strong allies, and the authorities would be all too willing to hand her over to the Leyrians.
That meant she would have to seek aid from private citizens. Most businessmen would appreciate the services of a telepath, and the same was true for most politicians. And most criminals for that matter. It occurred to her that if she was going to avoid the authorities, she might have to engage in some extralegal behaviour.
Now all she had to do was find somebody with enough money and resources to secure her protection and convince him or her to do so in exchange for an edge over his or her enemies. Keli touched the young woman's mind, searching for knowledge of where the elites in this city spent their off hours.
Images flashed before her eyes: the interiors of fancy clubs and restaurants. Most were just imaginings – the young woman had never been to some of these places – but a few key addresses popped into her mind. A cigar club near the south beach: that would be a good place to start.
She hailed a taxi.
The yellow cab slowed to a stop near the curb, allowing her a glimpse through the passenger-side window. An older man with a thick gray beard on his jawline leaned over to stare at her. “Where you going, lady?”
She understood his intent if not the precise meaning of his words. Learning a new language was fairly simple when you could skim the thoughts of the people who spoke it. This one also found her attractive.
Peering through the window, Keli smiled for him. “Not far,” she said, batting her eyes. “A cigar club on Prudente de Morais. If you could bring me there, I would be very, very appreciative.”
“Get in.”
She opened the door and slipped into the back seat, grunting at the scent of sweat mingling with perfume. The driver must have had many passengers today. Pulling the door shut, she settled in for a ride.
Her would-be chauffeur tried to make awkward conversation, but she ignored him for the most part, content to remain silent. The more she spoke, the more he was likely to think that something was amiss. Her mouth wasn't used to forming these words. Besides, she had to concoct a strategy for what to do when he asked for money.
Her foot came down on a piece of garbage.
Keli pressed her lips together, shaking her head in revulsion. This car is filthy, she thought, leaning over to pick it up. Honestly, man, do you just never bother to clean up back here?
In her hand, she held a tiny slip of paper with Earth script printed on it. She could not make sense of the text, but it was clearly a list of something. Perhaps a bill of sale from one of the boutiques that lined the sidewalk.
“You from out of town?” the driver asked.
Do not give him an answer, Keli told herself. His job is to drive you, not to indulge in conversation. Men such as this should learn their place.
Some time later, they came to a small white building nestled between two apartment complexes that were much taller. There was nothing striking about this place, no flashing lights or long lines of people waiting to get inside. The only thing that told her she was in the right place was a small sign above the door that she couldn't read.
This club had gained a reputation for exclusivity among the denizens of Ipanema. The woman she had probed had a brother who desperately wanted to gain membership. Supposedly one had to pay quite a bit of money to do so.
Kel
i got out of the car.
The driver twisted around in his seat. “Hey!” he bellowed with more volume than she would have preferred. “You need to pay me. Who do you think you are?”
She handed him the slip of paper.
Focusing her thoughts on him, she used a soft touch to subtly alter his perceptions. If she was careful, he wouldn't even notice the change; he would simply believe that she had given him one hundred American dollars.
The old man glanced at the piece of paper in his hand, then looked up to blink at her. “What are you stupid or something?” he spat. “You think you can just give me a receipt and walk away?”
His mind was resisting her touch. That could happen sometimes when someone had a particularly strong emotional investment in the subject at hand. Clearly this man cared a great deal about getting paid. “Take the money,” she urged.
“It isn't money.”
“I don't want to hurt you.”
“You don't want to hurt me?” He doubled over in the driver's seat, reaching out to open a small compartment in the dashboard. In the blink of an eye, he pulled out what appeared to be a communications device. “We'll just call the cops and see which one of us ends up getting hurt.”
Keli shut her eyes.
The time for subtlety had passed; using all of her strength, she attacked his mind with overwhelming force, slicing right through his defenses. Discovering his worst fears was easy once she had him at her mercy. She wove an illusion that would break his will and leave him crying like a baby.
A scorpion appeared on his dashboard: a monstrous creature as big as a dog with two large pincers that snapped and clacked. The stinging tail swung about, lunging for him again and again.
Screaming at the top of his lungs, the driver raised both hands up to shield himself. He sank deeper into the seat, trying to avoid the stinger. “Please, God! Please, God, help me! Help me!”
