by R S Penney
“Perhaps she improvised.”
“She almost certainly did.”
“How so?”
A growl rumbled in the kid's throat as he went to his bed. He sat down on the mattress, collecting himself. “The thing you need to understand about Keli,” he said in a soft, barely-audible voice. “She's essentially a caged animal. The people who ran that space station stripped her of every dignity.”
Raynar turned his head to stare at Harry, his face flushed to a deep scarlet. “When you're treated like that for years on end, you start to look for any crack. Any possible way to escape your confinement.”
“So she took the first opportunity that presented itself.”
“Wouldn't you?”
The thought of it made bile churn in Harry's gut. He could only imagine what that poor woman had endured, and he strongly suspected that he didn't want to know if his musings on the subject were in any way accurate. If what Raynar said was true, then Keli was running on pure instinct.
That made her even more dangerous. A woman with a plan would be careful, would go to great lengths to avoid drawing any undue attention. But a woman who felt like she was being hunted…If what Raynar said was true, then Keli would almost certainly be willing to burn through anyone who got in her way.
“Do you know where she went?” Harry asked. They already knew her destination, but it might be useful to see if he could catch Raynar in a lie. If the boy tried to send him on a false trail, it would give Harry some clue as to what he was thinking.
“I do not.”
“She never told you?”
Grinding his teeth audibly, Raynar shook his head. “How many times do I have to repeat myself?” he asked, standing up. “We seldom spoke to each other. On the day your people came to liberate us, Keli turned to me and sent a message. 'Use your abilities to incapacitate the guards.' That is the most we ever communicated.”
Harry stood.
Clasping hands together behind his back, he shut his eyes as he took a deep breath. “I knew this wasn't going to be easy.” He spun on his heel, turning his back on the young man, and went to the door.
“Listen, kid, if you're telling the truth, then we'll try to set this right.” Hardened instincts from years questioning dirt bags took over. “But if you're lying…”
“I'm not.”
Raynar stood there with his hands folded over his middle, head bowed as he spoke. “I had nothing to do with Keli's escape,” he said. “Where I come from telepaths are feared. Respected but feared.”
“This has nothing to do with who you are?”
“Doesn't it?”
The kid crossed his arms and grimaced, shaking his head ever so slowly. “Would you have put me in this cell if not for the fact that you fear me?” He came forward at a slow, steady pace. “Would you?”
Harry wasn't sure how to answer, the lack of a ready response was troubling in its own right. He was no stranger to prejudice. He still remembered the court case where he had lost full custody of his children.
There had been a moment when the judge glanced back and forth between him and Della, and…Well, perhaps it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he knew what the man was thinking. “Wealthy white woman or middle-class black man: who would make the better parent?”
Ultimately, he suspected that Della's lengthy record of misdemeanours was the only reason he still had partial custody. He knocked on the door, waiting for a guard to let him out. This conversation had not been as productive as he would have hoped, and he had no desire to continue. Besides, sometimes you had to let the perp stew.
I'm doing it again, he noted, thinking of him as a perp. Christ, what if the poor kid is innocent? After Keli's escape, taking some precautions with Raynar was only prudent, but he was starting to wonder if fear of mind readers might have played a part in those decisions. They weren't his decisions, but if they were wrong, he was still obligated to oppose them. A frustrating day all around.
And he suspected it was only going to get worse.
The bus terminal's concourse was a huge room with glossy floor tiles and white pillars that rose to a ceiling where fluorescent lights flickered. Rows of seats along all four walls remained unoccupied.
Three SlipGates stood side by side behind a glass wall with a kiosk where guards would inspect a traveler's passport and customs information before allowing her into the terminal. It was an inefficient system. Anna couldn't figure out why the people of this world insisted on restricting each other to their own little nations.
A man in a blue uniform paced a line in front of the guards' kiosk, muttering under his breath as he paused to study the floor under his feet. Something was very wrong here. This place should have been bustling.
Anna stood with fists on her hips.
Chewing her lip, she turned her head to inspect her surroundings. She closed her eyes. “Only one guard,” she said, starting forward. “Which begs the question 'just what happened to the others?'”
Jack was at her side, scrubbing a hand over his face and raking fingers through his thick, dark hair. “Yeah, having the same thought,” he muttered. “For that matter, where are all the people?”
They had been forced to come here in a shuttle; attempts to connect to the Rio De Janeiro SlipGates had been fruitless. Requesting landing space at the airport had been a hassle big enough to turn her hair gray. Anna didn't speak Portuguese, and the locals kept transferring her call from one person to another, several of whom did not speak anything but Portuguese.
Despite the fact that airline travel had tapered off to almost nothing with the advent of SlipGate technology, airports were still touchy about allowing unscheduled flights to touch down. Bleakness take this whole damn planet anyway! Right then, she was ready to spit bullets.
The guard was a short and stocky man with a thick gray mustache and deep creases in his forehead. “Quem é você?” he barked in Portuguese. “O terminal de ônibus está fechado. Saia Agora!”
“Voca fala Inglês?”
The guard heaved out a deep sigh, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Yes, I do,” he answered with a thick accent. “Now, what are you doing here? The bus terminal is closed.”
A few taps at her multi-tool caused it to generate a hologram of the Justice Keeper emblem. A silver star on a field of blue rippled into existence, and through it, she could see the man's startled reaction. “We're Justice Keepers,” she said softly. “We want you to tell us what happened here.”
“It's uh…I don't understand it.”
Anna crossed her arms, bowing her head to the man. “Just start at the beginning,” she said, marching past him toward the glass wall. “Why are the SlipGates inactive, and what caused the damage here?”
In her mind's eye, she saw the man's silhouette reach up and remove its cap. “I was on my break,” he explained. “I come back, and my partners, they lie on the floor, crying like little girls.” Anna chose to ignore his sexist comment. Right now, she needed reliable information more than she needed an argument.
The guard pressed a hand to his stomach, glancing toward Jack who stood silently beside him. “I shut down the Gates,” he said. “I call the cops. They come, and they make everybody go home.”
“What caused this?”
“Come on,” he said. “I show you.”
He shuffled over to the kiosk with hands in his pockets, shaking his head in disgust. “Is on security camera,” he said. “I don't understand. Strange woman…She come through the Gate and everything go wrong.”
He got the door open by fumbling with his keys, grumbling curses the whole time, then stepped inside. It was becoming more and more likely that Keli was the one behind this insanity. Anna felt a mix of excitement and dread at that. She loved it when one of her theories turned out to be correct, but if the telepath had caused this much trouble just getting through the Gate, the Companion alone knew what else she would do.
The kiosk was a cramped space with two comput
er monitors and a single keyboard. A sliding window that faced the SlipGates would allow incoming travelers to present their ID. All in all, there was barely enough room for her and Jack to stand side by side.
The guard pulled up the security footage.
Black-and-white footage of the three SlipGates filled the monitor with a time stamp in the upper righthand corner. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a bubble appeared in front of the leftmost Gate.
It remained stationary for a moment before popping to reveal Keli Armana looking around like a hunted animal. She took a few cautious steps forward before one very large guard approached her.
The man turned slightly, gesturing to the kiosk.
Keli tried to move past him.
The guard stepped in front of her, leaning in to yell something in her face. Clearly this had an effect because Keli backed away. She raised one hand with her palm out, a look of grim determination on her face.
Suddenly, the guard was brushing himself vigorously, dancing about as though he thought he was covered with insects. The man fell to his knees, screaming. Keli walked past him, out of the frame. That was the end of the footage.
“Wonderful. So, she's here, and she's already started bludgeoning people with her abilities. I give it three hours before this city goes insane.”
Jack watched the footage with his lips pressed together, his face a mask of stone. “I don't know,” he muttered under his breath. “If I were her, I'd play it smart and try to keep a low profile.”
Anna's multi-tool beeped.
Answering the call, she watched as Harry Carlson's face filled her screen. “Hey, I just got a call from a Detective Borges with the Rio police,” he said. “You might want to speak with him.”
“What's his number?”
“I have him on the other line. Hold on.” The screen went dark for a moment before displaying the image of a heavyset man in his early forties who wore his salt-and-pepper hair combed back.
Detective Borges closed his eyes and nodded to her. “Agent Lenai,” he began in a harsh, gravelly voice. “I'm told you will be the one leading the search for the woman who disrupted the bus station.”
“I am.”
The leaning forward in his chair and peered intently into the camera. “About an hour ago, we got a very odd call from a taxi driver who describes something similar to what happened at the bus station.”
Anna looked at Jack, her eyebrows slowly rising. “You were saying?” she teased. When she turned her attention back to the screen, she saw that Borges was maneuvering another man in front of the camera.
This one was an older fellow with a gray beard that stretched from ear to ear. “She made me see a big scorpion…” he stammered. “She tried to give me a receipt instead of paying her fair, and when I insisted…”
Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Anna shook her head. “Lovely,” she whispered. “Where did you take this woman? Was anybody else with her?”
The man shook his head, dropping into the chair behind Detective Borges's desk. “No, no one else,” he insisted. “It was a cigar club down by the beach. I've heard rumors about that place.”
“Give me the address.”
It occurred to her that her growing sense of frustration was directly tied to her guilt. Anna had been the one to insist that they raid that station on Ganymede. She was the one responsible for anything Keli Armana did in this city.
That was going to gnaw at her for quite some time, but she couldn't afford to let it distract her. The faster they recovered their missing telepath, the smaller the chance that she would do any serious damage. I should have left her to rot in that cell, a small voice whispered in her mind. That, of course, was utter foolishness. Two wrongs didn't make a right, as Jack was fond of saying. She had a duty to respect and protect the rights of each and every human in this galaxy, Leyrian or not. Still, a part of her couldn't help but think that Keli's captors might have had good reason for locking her up.
The big red door swung open, allowing two men in black SWAT gear to step into the cigar club. Once they moved aside, Anna could see a large foyer with bright red walls and stairs that led up to the second level.
Jack was the next one through the door, lifting his forearm to display a hologram of his badge. “Justice Keepers!” he shouted for anybody who might be listening. “We've got a warrant to search this property.”
Anna frowned down at herself, the light breeze teasing her hair. Let's get this over with, she thought, starting up the front steps. Knowing Keli, she'll probably send an army of drunken cigar smokers to attack us.
Once inside, she was able to get a better look at the place. Whoever operated this establishment obviously had a taste for what Earthers called “the finer things in life.” She saw gold trim along the baseboards and ornate wooden tables supporting lamps that gave off a soft, warm light.
A husky man in a black suit with pinstripes came down the steps at a quick pace. This one had a handsome face and spiky black hair. “I can't let you come in here,” he insisted. “You have to leave.”
He stepped in front of Anna, trying to loom over her with his arms folded. It might have been intimidating had she not faced down Death Spheres, Battle Drones and people with deadly nanotechnology.
Pressing her lips together, Anna looked up to meet his gaze. “You do realize who you're talking to,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Take a good look around you; how do you think this conflict will end?”
The man turned his face away from her. “I still can't let you in here,” he whispered, backing up. “Mr. Almeida will not tolerate any disruption to his business. If I let you in-”
“You might just avoid an Obstruction of Justice charge,” Jack chimed in. His blue eyes blazed as he studied the other man. “Limited time offer, bro. My suggestion is cash in while the opportunity is hot.”
The bouncer hesitated, then stepped aside.
Well, of course he stepped aside. One thing she'd noticed since taking up residence on this planet, the people here were far more likely to comply with a man's advice than they were with hers. It was infuriating! Back home, she had never had a problem making men respect her authority, but here…
“Where's the telepath?”
“The what?”
“I don't have time to play games.” Anna pushed past him, making her way to the stairs. “A woman with the ability to read minds came in here. Where is she?”
In her mind's eye, she saw the bouncer. He stood with his back turned, facing Jack and the pair of tactical officers. She wanted to believe that he considered them to be the greater threat based on numbers alone, but somehow…
The man's shoulders slumped, and he hung his head. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” He groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “There was never any mindreader here.”
“Search the place,” Anna ordered.
Jack took one of the tactical officers to explore the first floor, while she went up the stairs with the other. If memory served, his name was Marco Rodriguez. She didn't know what she would find, but if Keli had come here, she must have had a good reason.
At the top of the stairs, a hallway led to the back of the building. This one had plush red carpet and dark wainscot along the crimson walls. Two doors on her left led to rooms with big leather chairs.
A third door in the wall to her right led to an office with a ruined desk. She had the distinct impression this was where Mr. Almeida oversaw the little details of his business. Something caught her eye.
A briefcase had fallen to the floor in front of the desk. Whatever had transpired here, it must have been violent. After what she had seen at the bus station, this had Keli written all over it.
Anna strode into the room, using her spatial awareness to watch every direction at the same time. Rodriguez took his position by the door, guarding her back. Excellent. His presence would prevent the bouncer from trying anything. Not that she was worried, but she didn't want to put up with the nuisance.
Anna dropped to one knee.
She opened the briefcase to reveal several bags of fine white powder. A narcotic? After accepting this position, she had been required to attend a seminar where she learned the most commonly used illicit drugs on this planet. This was probably cocaine.
A frown tightened her mouth as she shook her head. “Something isn't right here.” She pressed a fist to her forehead, brushing bangs aside. “Who goes to all the trouble to buy drugs and then leaves them discarded on the floor?”
“I can think of two answers,” Marco replied.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna nodded her agreement. “So can I,” she said, getting to her feet. “Someone who is careless or someone who has just come into possession of something far more valuable.”
She turned.
The young officer stood by the door with a hand resting on the grip of his pistol. An instinctive pose. Men and women like him tended to radiate alertness. “Follow me,” she said. “We're going to have to arrest everyone in this place.”
Chapter 21
The pain in Keli's head slowly receded, consciousness seeping in like rain through a leaky roof. As always, the presence of other minds was the first thing she noticed. And they were hostile.
Keli was curled up on her side on a hard concrete floor, shivering at the chill it left in her skin. What is this place? She rolled onto her back, then sat up with some effort. How did I come here?
There was something on her neck.
Pawing at herself with her fingers, she felt a metal collar around her throat. Terror flared up in her chest. She had seen such a device before; she had worn such a device before. This was not good.
She was in what seemed to be an office with cinder-block walls and one window that looked out on some kind of machine shop. There was a desk to her left with papers scattered over its surface, and the air was thick with the smell of grease.
Keli shut her eyes tight, trembling as she sucked in a deep breath. She touched her fingertips to her forehead and tried to massage away the pain. I need to get out of here. If I can just slip away before they notice…
