by R S Penney
A scream echoed through her mind – or rather, it echoed through Raynar's mind as he shared the memory of it – a howl so fierce it made goosebumps break out on her skin. It had come from Keli; she knew that much because Raynar knew it.
The woman was using her powers to violate the mind of…someone. He couldn't say anything about the specifics, but the sheer force she applied against her victim would be audible to any telepath within a hundred kilometers.
Raynar stood.
He doubled over, covering his eyes with one hand. “No,” he whispered, sinking to his knees on the carpeted floor. “Keli, you idiot! You couldn't just give them the time they needed to trust us.”
His head was swimming, but he was dimly aware of crawling toward a wall where a blinking computer panel would allow him to contact the authorities. If Keli had killed someone…Well, there was little he could do in that case. But there was a good chance her victim was still alive.
“Come on…” Raynar muttered in a strained voice. “Keep it together. Just a little bit further.”
He emptied his stomach onto the carpet.
The Justice Keeper that Keli had assaulted. Raynar could feel his pain – his terror – like a hot knife in the belly. Agony washed over him with all the force of a typhoon. Such pain. How could the others not feel it?
The ferocity of it made him black out, his vision dimming, his body relaxing and surrendering to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness. When he woke, some time had passed, and there were security officers coming through his door.
The vision faded.
Melissa shut her eyes, hot tears rolling over her cheeks. “Oh god.” She covered her face with both hands. “Raynar, I'm so sorry. I know this sounds like cold comfort, but it wasn't your fault.”
He looked away with a tight frown, blinking at the wall. “I know it wasn't,” he said softly. “But if I'd managed to call someone, if I'd gotten to the panel in time…I wouldn't be standing here right now.”
Crossing her arms, Melissa shivered. “He wasn't involved,” she said, turning to the door. “He tried to call for help, but the pain of what Keli did to Agent Torvano was too much for him.”
Jena stood just inside the cell with hands in her pockets, her face as hard as stone. “Maybe,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Or maybe he simply invented some convincing imagery and shoved it into your mind.”
“That's not the point,” Melissa replied in a grating voice. “The burden of proof is on you to show he's guilty, not on him to show he's innocent.”
“I'm well aware of that.”
“Are you?” Melissa asked. “Because right now, the only thing you have on him is the fact that he knows someone who committed a crime. You haven't got a single shred of evidence to link him to the crime. This decision of yours is based on nothing but fear and prejudice. Hardly the behaviour of a Justice Keeper.”
Grinning like a fifteen-year-old on her first date, Jena laughed softly to herself. “Well put,” she said. “Okay, kid. You really believe him?”
“I do.”
Jena paced back and forth with hands shoved into her pockets. “That's part of the job, you know,” she muttered. “Making the hard choices and being able to live with yourself afterward.”
“I recognize the danger,” Melissa said, suddenly aware of the tension in her body. “But he didn't do it. Our first commitment has to be to justice.”
Jena stood with arms crossed, shaking her head in frustration. “You're not the first person to make that argument,” she said. “Your father told me the exact same thing just a few days ago.”
“He's a wise man.”
“And he taught you well.” With a groan, Jena turned her back and marched over to the cell door. She paused there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. “All right. I will order his release.”
The sigh of relief Melissa couldn't hold in was echoed by one from Raynar as he came up behind her. Somehow she knew she could trust this boy. Perhaps that was a trick of telepathy, but she didn't think so.
Jena tapped the intercom panel on the wall. “We're done here,” she muttered with more than a touch of exasperation in her voice. The door slid open a moment later, and she paused before leaving. “Coming, kid?”
Melissa pressed the heels of her hands to her eye-sockets. “I think I'll stay. I get the impression that Raynar could use a little company.”
Jena turned and shot a glance over her shoulder, a hard expression revealing what she thought of that plan. Her features softened a moment later. “Okay. I'll get the paperwork started; we'll have him out of here in an hour.”
When she was gone, Melissa turned her attention back to the young man who had just spent the last few days cooped up in here. Stuck in a cell with a man who could rip through her mind, and yet she wasn't nervous.
Somehow, she knew he wouldn't do that.
Raynar stood by the foot of his bed with a hand over his heart, frowning at the wall. “Your friend hates me,” he muttered, sitting down on the mattress. “I can feel it radiating from her like a storm.”
Melissa felt her mouth tighten with concern. She heaved out a frustrated sigh. “Do you really believe that?” she asked. “Because you told me you can't read the thoughts of Justice Keepers, which means you're guessing.”
“I do believe that.”
“Then maybe it's time to rethink your position.”
How exactly had this happened to her? After all the effort spent defending Raynar to Jena, she wound up having to defend Jena to Raynar. Stuck in the middle between two people who refused to see eye to eye.
This sounded more like her father's gig than anything a Justice Keeper might have to deal with. Then again, the few things Jack had told her over the years made it seem as though diplomacy was a big part of the job description.
Raynar sat with hands on his knees, frowning into his own lap. “There is so much you need to know,” he whispered. “The war you fight…You think you understand it, but you are like children fumbling in the dark.”
“Huh? What war?”
“They are coming.” A grimace twisted Raynar's pale face into something haggard, and he shook his head. “You cannot stop them any more than you can stop the slow advance of entropy.”
“Who?”
“I can't tell you.”
Melissa turned her back on him and paced across the room to relieve her irritation. “So you're just gonna be all cryptic?” she asked. “Tease me with some juicy gossip, then insist you can't say more? You'd fit right in at my school.”
“You misunderstand me,” he grumbled. “I can't tell you because there are no words to express what I've seen.” The sound of soft footsteps told her that he was approaching. “But maybe I can show you.”
When she turned, he was standing there with his head bowed, a small smile on his face. “I am willing to try if you are,” he added. “But I must warn you. The things I have seen…Once you know them, you will never be the same.”
She hesitated.
Did she want to know? Peeking behind the veil was almost always a bad idea, in her opinion; some illusions were worth holding on to. But then, she did want to become a Justice Keeper, and she was fairly certain people who clung to their illusions weren't cut out for that job. “Do it.”
He looked up at her with those large eyes, and she was pulled right in. The world faded away as she sank into one of Raynar's memories: the sight, the sound, the smell of it so real she could almost believe she was really there.
She was back inside his tiny cell with the door shut tight and no room to maneuver. A sense of claustrophobia overwhelmed her when she realized that she could stretch her arms and touch each wall.
The door swung open to reveal a man in black pants and a red coat with gold trim on the cuff of each sleeve. His thin face with high cheekbones and tilted eyes betrayed not a hint of emotion, and long black hair fell over his shoulders. Melissa had never seen this man in person, but she knew him from various newscasts.
Grecken Slade.
He looked Raynar up and down, then paused. “You say this one is weaker than the other?” he asked, turning to speak with someone out of sight. “Can we make use of him, or will I need to provide you with another specimen?”
Specimen.
Slade talked about Raynar like he was some kind of lab-rat. No wonder the guy was so slow to trust. In the back of her mind, in the part of herself that still remembered she was Melissa, a part of her felt sick to her stomach.
Slade turned his back on the cell, standing with arms folded as he talked to one of the guards. “We will need the best,” he said, “the woman looks quite promising, but this one…When you're done with the test, dispose of him.”
She felt Raynar's fury.
The man spoke about him as though he weren't even there, as though he were less than human. This, despite the fact that he knew on some level that he was more. Rage and disgust filled him until he thought he might burst.
So he lashed out.
His will came against the symbiont that Slade carried like water washing up against a wall of rock. But rage filled him with resolve he would not have thought possible. He gathered his will, and he pushed.
A crack formed in the wall, allowing light to spill through: the pulsing, flickering light of the other man's thoughts. They spilled through like grains of sand from a cracked hourglass. Melissa saw them all as Raynar remembered.
Images flashed in her mind faster than she could count them. The inside of a dark tunnel with walls made of flesh, the awe and reverence for an amorphous creature that she couldn't quite picture, a sphere that glowed when she held it in her hand: it was all right there in her mind.
Men in tattered clothes went running through the tall grass, scrambling toward the distant horizon under the light of a merciless sun. They were convicts, or had been before Slade released them. Why? She prodded the image, but it faded.
That was a powerful memory, a pivotal moment in Slade's life. She wouldn't have been able to perceive it in such vivid detail otherwise. The images began to flicker again. An old woman's face, a burning house, the light of a million stars as Slade saw them from orbit for the first time.
Images flickered.
Melissa pulled back, gasping and sobbing. “Oh god…” She looked up, blinking tears out of her eyes. “You saw that man's life…I don't understand; none of that made any sense.”
Raynar stood there with hands clasped behind his back, refusing to look at her. “It will in time,” he said, backing away from her. “When it does, you must tell your friends what you have learned.”
“Can't you tell them?”
“They will not believe me.”
Somehow, she knew it was true. Touching Raynar's mind was enough to convince her of his sincerity. He was wrong, of course – the others wouldn't disbelieve him simply because he was a telepath – but he was sincere. “You must tell them,” he went on. “It will take your mind some time to process what I have shown you, but when you do, you must tell them what you have seen.”
“I saw nothing but disjointed images.”
He laid a hand on her cheek, and Melissa sighed. For some reason she didn't want to think about, it felt…soothing. “The burden I have given you is terrible, the knowledge that you now carry…”
“What did you show me, Raynar?” she whispered. “I know you say you don't have the words, but try…What was that?”
“The end.”
The inside of Keli's cell was very much like the inside of any other: a wide room with a bed, a nightstand and a table. Soft light from the lamps bathed all four walls in a gentle amber glow.
The woman stood with her back turned, muttering to herself as she studied the wall on the far side of the room. “And so I live out my days in here,” Keli muttered. “One cell traded for another, is that it?”
“You have no cause to complain,” Anna said. “You betrayed our trust.”
Keli spun partway around, glancing over her shoulder. A snarl twisted her features into something feral. “Treat a woman like an animal,” she said. “And she will become the very thing you fear.”
Anna closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “What you did is called assault.” She brushed bangs off her forehead with the back of her hand. “And murder. You're going to stand trial even if we have to keep the collar on you the whole time.”
“Such passion for an evil man.”
A surge of heat in Anna's face made her feel as though her skin were on fire. “It's not your place to decide who lives and who dies,” she said, stepping away from the wall. “Rawlins would have answered for his crime.”
The other woman faced her, somehow managing to look demure in that simple gray dress. “You still don't understand,” she said, smiling down at the floor. “So long as I remain on this station, all of you are in danger. I had to leave to have any chance at a normal life.”
“What are you talking about?”
Keli's face twisted, a soft hiss escaping her. “Forget it,” she said. “It is of little consequence. Some tragedies cannot ever be avoided.”
Gritting her teeth, Anna let her head hang. “I am in no mood for your games,” she said, striding across the room. “You say this station's in danger? Well, you better get real chatty real quick if you want to have any hope at a lenient sentence.”
Keli looked up at her with those big, dark eyes, blinking in confusion. “You truly don't know what I'm talking about,” she muttered. “Yes, I can feel the confusion radiating off you even with your symbiont.”
“So make with the exposition.”
“Do you believe my people will just leave me here?” Keli asked with incredulity in her voice. “I am one of their most valued assets.”
“You're saying there are ships on the way?”
“Many.”
“How can you know that?”
Of all the responses Anna would have expected, laughter was not one of them. Keli backed away from her, nearly tripping when her ass hit the wall. “You foolish girl. Did you think I didn't read them while we were making our escape from Ganymede? Did you honestly believe I didn't know their intentions?”
“And you're telling us now?”
“Your problems are not my concern, two-soul,” Keli hissed. “My people will come, and they will go to great lengths to recover me. My only hope was to hide somewhere on this dismal little planet and pray they would conclude that one telepath isn't worth risking a war with Leyria. Now it is too late for that. Prepare yourself, Justice Keeper. The worst part of this ordeal is still ahead of you.”
Chapter 28
Splashing water over her face, Anna looked into the mirror. Tiny droplets glistened on her skin and slid over her cheek. Her hair was still a dark shade of brown with bangs clinging to her forehead.
Heaving out a shuddering breath, Anna hung her head. “I'm gonna lose it,” she whimpered. “If I could do it all over again, I'd leave that damn woman to rot in her cell.”
Jack stood just outside the bathroom with hands in his pockets, his turned to stare at the wall. “You don't mean that,” he muttered. “Whatever her crimes may be, she doesn't deserve to live as a lab rat.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Jack had dyed his hair back to something approximating its natural colour, and she really couldn't blame him for rushing to make the change. Gabi could say whatever she wanted, but blonde looked ridiculous on him.
For the last six hours, she had been stuck in these guest quarters, trying to take her mind off the impending catastrophe by reading or watching vids. It had done no good. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore the truth.
The Antaurans were coming to reclaim Keli and Raynar, which meant there would almost certainly be a violent altercation, possibly the first skirmish in a war. That was her fault, her doing. If she had just left well enough alone…
Anna closed her eyes, hanging her head in shame. She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “There will be bloodshed
before the end of the day, and all the history books will credit me for that.”
She pushed past Jack.
The living room was practically identical to those she had seen in every other set of quarters on this station. She wanted nothing more than to return to her cozy little apartment, but every licensed pilot had to remain on the station in the event that Keli's warning proved genuine.
The silhouette of Jack stood behind her, watching her cautiously. “You know that isn't true,” he insisted. “Anna, you were trying to prevent atrocities that any reasonable person would call war crimes. That's what Keepers do.”
“Yes, I know,” Anna said. “And you're right; I wouldn't do anything differently even if I could go back.”
“But?”
“I'm just frustrated.”
The door chime cut off any further conversation, and she was oh so grateful for the interruption. Analyzing her feelings wasn't exactly the best way to relieve the tension that had been building in her chest. “Come in.”
Double doors slid apart to reveal Jena standing in the hallway with fists clenched at her sides. “It's been confirmed,” she said, striding into the room. “Long range scouts have detected a small fleet of Antauran ships moving through Dead Space.”
“How long?”
“Three hours,” Jena answered. She stood there like a condemned prisoner, staring through the window into the great black nothing. “They will enter the Sol System in roughly three hours.”
“We need to mount a defense. What's our next move?”
“We've got three phoenix-class cruisers in the system,” Jena explained. “They've taken position to intercept the Antauran fleet at a point just beyond the range of Neptune's orbit. We're sending in shuttles and small fighters as support. Anna, I want you out there within half an hour.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Jena turned on her heel, sighing as she paced across the room. “You're going to be outnumbered and outgunned,” she said. “Unfortunately, they've got more firepower than you do, so you'll have to play it smart.”
Jack stood by the wall with a hand on his stomach, a painful expression on his face. “Well, that's grand,” he said. “You'd think we could have a little more protection than just three ships.”
