by K Bledsoe
“The princess is the one with the reward anyway. Okay, let’s contact this person, um…” she scanned the reader again. “Beltan. Set up a meeting.”
“Ok… done,” Allison piped up from behind her screen.
“What?”
“I had a message written and ready to go, so I sent it out like you said.”
“Did it occur to you that maybe we should read it first?” asked Lenore.
“Well, here it is, but I just copied the basics from all your previous first contact messages and wrote a similar one with the new information. Easy enough.”
“And how did you get all my previous contact messages? From my protected files?”
Allison shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard. I used my hacker program number five and simply…” She trailed off when she saw their faces. “Sorry, I only wanted to help.”
Lenore rubbed her forehead. “It’s a good thing your intentions are honorable. Well, mostly anyway. First of all, don’t do it again and second, you can apologize by writing a hacker-proof security wall for my files.”
“No such thing as ‘hacker-proof,’ Mom. But I can get close.” Allison grinned as she grabbed her stuff and disappeared down the stairs to her cabin.
“How many eleven-year-olds get that excited about being allowed to write a program that will take up most of a week?” asked Diarmin.
“The same number as can take down a drug lord and his entire operation with a computer virus.” She crossed her arms, not quite willing to let the subject go.
“Hey,” Diarmin held his hands up. “You know how good our kids are at figuring out ways of keeping things from us, finding a way around the rules.”
Her mind flashed on how Quinn’s new disguise had deceived her so well. She pressed her lips tightly against a retort.
“Well, you taught them,” she snapped irritably.
Diarmin shook his head. “Not that. I only taught the basics like any public school. When they developed their own interests, they learned those skills on their own.” He waved his hand in the direction of Allison’s terminal. “How many people, of any age, are as much of a genius at programming as she is already?”
“None.” Lenore shook her head. “I only worry what will happen when she realizes that fact.”
“Sell her services to the highest bidder? Come on, we raised her better than that.” He pulled her into his arms.
Lenore leaned into him. “But what if she doesn’t have a choice? What if something happens to us despite our careful selection of jobs? And then there’s the reason we disappeared in the first place.”
“Reason?”
“Okay, several reasons. Which reminds me, is the ship’s identity scrambler turned on?”
“Of course. And Alli added two new ones.”
“Good.” Lenore pulled away. “Wait, why did she write new ones?” Her eyes narrowed. “The attack?”
“That, and the other thing I think you know.” Diarmin tried to pull her back into an embrace, but she shook him off and took two steps back.
“How did you …. oh, never mind.” She put her fingers to her temples. “Damn that boy. He is so sneaky. Did you know that he was in the room when the shooter attacked?”
“He is worried about you. And don’t change the subject. This is the third time this year you have let slip your connection to the Xa’ti’al. It’s like you want them to find you.”
“It’s the quickest way to cut through the crap and get idiots to butt out.”
“You always say that.”
“It’s true. You’ve seen the reactions. You had a similar one when we first met as I recall.” She grinned at Diarmin.
“Flirting won’t distract me either. If you keep this up, the kids will find out that the Xa’ti’al never voluntarily let anyone leave the order, and that they will stop at nothing to get you back into their ranks. Or punish you for deserting.”
“Well, they haven’t caught us yet, and I don’t intend for them to.” She twisted her hair back into a knot. “I was the best they had, and I know their limitations. Besides, with your inventions,” she leaned in to give a peck on the cheek, “I know we can get out of anything they plan. Enough of this gloomy talk. Let’s find something for dinner and talk about this job that will pay for the new gravitational plates or even something other than your cooking.”
“Hey, I’m better than you. It’s one of the reasons you married me.”
“Can’t deny that.”
Chapter Seven
The Roberto del Esponja yacht was docked at a platform in the largest city on the planet. The contact was unable to meet in a small out-of-the-way town like Lenore usually preferred. But this ship identification was one of Allison’s new ones (where she got them, Lenore had no idea) so she felt as safe as possible in a major port.
As usual, Lenore had put a lot of thought into this meeting, thoroughly reading all the information Allison could find on the planet and the contact. Strangely, not much could be found about him, not even a last name, though the normal amount of data existed about the planet. She sat in the lounge with Diarmin, reader pads spread across the dining table.
“Language will most likely not be an issue,” she said.
“How can you be sure? The planet has a native language, the population mostly Earth-Hindi descent,” he answered, tapping on the relevant pad.
“It says that children are taught Standard in the schools. Since Lavan’s last message was in Standard, we know he’s educated.”
“Wait. Lavan? I thought his name was Beltan?” said Diarmin.
“That’s the name he used, but since there was nothing in the database about any Beltan, Allison used his picture from the last message to cross reference and find his real identity. This.” She held out a printed sheet of paper with a picture. “It was hard to find, but you know Alli, very in-depth searches. His name is Lavan and we can see he is young boy, about sixteen or seventeen. But since the reward is substantial, he must have access to a great deal of money, and thus is not a person to inadvertently insult or cross. The big question is if I should take anyone with me.”
“Well, even though the native people have mid-brown coloration nearest to Allison, she is the least comfortable with people and would not enjoy leaving her beloved computers,” said Diarmin.
“You’re nearly as bad with your ‘beloved’ machines to play with.”
Diarmin grinned. “And I don’t enjoy crowds. So that leaves Quinn. His ability to blend in and adapt to any situation would be very helpful.”
“But he is still young and inexperienced.” Lenore grimaced. “Not to mention his tendency lately to do his own thing regardless of the possibility of danger.” She shoved the pads around, not really reading them but pondering the possibilities. Diarmin cleared his throat, and she knew she wouldn’t really like what he was going to say.
“If this contact is about Quinn’s age, then a local boy about the same age might put him more at ease. Quinn could easily disguise—”
Lenore waved her hand to cut him off. “Lavan also could be either extremely intimidated or enamored of a mature woman, especially if I presented myself as an important figure. I think the Baroness persona would do fine.” She began gathering up the pads.
“And Quinn? You know he has been asking to go with you to learn negotiating skills.”
“I don’t want to put him in danger. Stop,” she said as Diarmin opened his mouth to argue further. “I’ll give it serious thought.”
***
That night, the night before the meeting, Diarmin turned to her in bed before they fell asleep.
“Look, if this is going to be the family business, we need to let all the family learn all parts of it. I don’t like the idea of Quinn or Allison in a dangerous situation either, but how are they to judge what is safe and what isn’t unless we give them a chance to learn? And to be honest, this seems like a standard missing person case with the victim most likely dead long ago. Minimum danger.”
&nb
sp; “The school was supposed to be minimum danger for Quinn, but he was there when the shooter showed up.” She rolled away from Diarmin, not liking the idea at all. He rolled with her, snuggling his front along her back, draping an arm around her waist. He laid a chin on her shoulder to speak softly in her ear.
“You’d better start teaching him where you can keep an eye on him. He’s bound to start trying more stuff on his own if you don’t. Look how good he plants monitors and takes photos. He learned most of his skills by only observing you. Not to mention his uncanny ability at disguises.”
The tension melted out of Lenore, and she rolled over to face Diarmin.
“How did you get to be so wise?” Her left hand cupped his face while the right one caressed the tight curls on his head.
“Tinkering with machines all day gives a person time to think,” he replied. He buried his face in her hair. “And I know how boys think.” He pressed soft, full lips on her shoulder.
“Hm, yes. I know what you are thinking.” She reached lower. “I can feel it, too.” Diarmin didn’t answer except to cover her mouth with his, move his hands down her back and gently pull her against his body. Lenore responded with heightened excitement as she always did before missions.
Chapter Eight
Lavan fiddled nervously with his drinking glass trying not to look as out of place as he felt. He hardly ever left the palace, and, in fact, this was the only restaurant he knew of close enough to walk to. He tried not to stare at the other customers and wondered for the tenth time if he was doing the right thing. Nobody knew where he was or that he was meeting with strangers who might or might not find the missing princess. Would they be friendly? Rude? Dangerous? Would they even take him seriously? Was this a bad idea?
Lavan had arrived early and had been waiting for what he felt was suspiciously long, even though no one appeared to be paying any attention to him. He was dressed in clothes he had borrowed from the stable boy weeks ago in hopes of being able to meet someone who would take the job.
The place was growing crowded with adult clientele. The sun had set hours ago, and families were probably at home preparing for sleep. Some people at the tables were obvious romantic liaisons and other tables held groups of drinking friends or perhaps colleagues. Lavan felt singled out being a lone diner and hoped his contact would show soon.
A tall, elegant woman wearing a flowing, colorful dress entered the restaurant followed by a servant boy. The clothing and her pale coloring marked her as an offworlder, but visitors from other planets were common enough in this city due to the large spaceport. Lavan noticed the woman drew several glances, but only of appreciation of her exotic beauty, not for suspicion.
The servant boy looked like a native of the planet so was probably a local, hired as a guide. But as the lady’s eyes met Lavan’s, he knew this was who he was waiting for. The lady looked at her servant and nodded. A thin, tall man pushed in front of the maître de to greet the duo. Lavan knew the man as the owner of the restaurant but the boy, not the woman, spoke with him, heads bowed in deep discussion. After only a moment or two, they shook hands. The owner bowed to the lady and led them both to a door beyond the kitchen.
Several minutes passed and Lavan thought perhaps he had misconstrued the situation, that they weren’t the ones he was supposed to meet. He resumed his watch on the door. The sudden sound of a throat clearing immediately to his left made his heart jump.
“The Baroness Delilah requests your company in the private salon, sirrah Beltan.” The offworlder’s servant boy bowed respectfully.
Startled at the appearance of the boy, Lavan momentarily forgot his false persona.
“Um, I need to pay…”
“Already taken care of, sirrah. This way, please.” The boy’s hand indicated the direction.
Lavan stood and made his way toward the back. He supposed he should be annoyed at their presumption like the prince would have been, but instead he felt a sense of relief. These people seemed quite competent. He needed them to be if they were going to find the princess missing for eighteen years.
As he entered the room, he noticed the lady was seated behind an empty table in a cushioned chair. She indicated a similar chair across the table, so Lavan sat in it. To his surprise, the servant boy pulled up one of three other hard-backed, cushionless chairs to sit at the table as well.
“I hope you aren’t offended by my preference for privacy,” she said. “I am Delilah, and this is my assistant, Hewel.”
“Pleased to meet you, Baroness.”
She laughed softly. “I am not a Baroness. When it is assumed one is rich and holds a position of power, people strive harder to please.”
Lavan nodded, knowing that truth, having grown up in a palace.
“So, tell me, young sirrah, how may we help you?”
“It is very simple. I wish you to find the girl who went missing eighteen years ago.”
“I have read the reports you sent. I also have read the original reports when she disappeared, as well as those of the various officials who looked for her in the past.”
She paused, perhaps to see his reaction to the oblique admission that she had illegally obtained those documents. When Lavan merely nodded, she continued.
“What I need to know now is anything unofficial that you can tell me. Any information that you can give that might help after so long.”
“What sort of information do you mean?”
The boy spoke for the first time. “Like why someone who wasn’t even born when the girl disappeared wants to find her now.”
Lavan jerked in his seat, not just because he had dismissed the boy as irrelevant, but he was also taken aback by the question. He felt his cheeks grow hot as he looked away. He had a story worked out that wouldn’t reveal who he was, but he hadn’t expected confrontation right away.
“How much do you know about our planetary politics?”
“I am familiar with how your system works but tell me your view.”
He took a big breath and rapidly delivered his rehearsed speech. “The democratic council has the powers of the people but the king, or queen when we have had one, has always had an important part. His opinion carries a lot of weight, and people tend to follow what he prefers. But the current king has become ill and, in truth, has not been a powerful force in the last years. Fortunately, the way the system was designed allows the king to be overruled or relegated to simply a figurehead when he is not an ideal ruler. The current king is much beloved by the people because he was a brilliant and capable man until his personal tragedies. You see, the missing girl was his daughter, and he never recovered from her disappearance. I think if his daughter could be found, the king would regain his health and be more like his old self again.”
“That makes sense,” said Delilah. “But I also know that most of the general populace have no knowledge of the king’s weakness because the rest of the planetary leaders hide the fact. How is it that you know of this?”
“I…I work in the palace, so I see the king in his private time.”
They both nodded, and Lavan relaxed since they appeared to accept this explanation. Until Hewel spoke again.
“But how does the current prince feel about finding his long-lost sister?”
This time Lavan felt he covered his response better, but he could feel his cheeks warm again as he answered. “I did this on my own. The prince does not know about reopening the investigation.”
“Why not?” asked the boy again.
Delilah narrowed her eyes at Hewel, obviously annoyed with her assistant for speaking out of order. But he ignored her, keeping his eyes locked on Lavan’s face.
“I, um, feel he would not appreciate a rival.”
“How—” was all Hewel got out before Delilah cut him off rather forcefully.
“What my assistant is trying to ascertain is if the position held by a king is just a figurehead, why would it matter to the prince to have a rival?”
“All siblings have ri
valries, don’t they?”
“Do they?” she retorted.
Silence descended on the small group. Delilah tapped her fingers on the table and Hewel simply stared. Lavan knew they didn’t quite believe him, but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to go further. He was in enough danger as it was. Finally, the woman broke the silence.
“All of this is very interesting, but you haven’t told me anything that I simply couldn’t find out listening to local gossip or news feeds.”
Hewel reached into a vest pocket and pulled out a paper, laying it open on the table between them.
Lavan saw a picture of the prince and himself standing behind the king at the opening of a new upper-level academy in the city.
All his ideas and attempts at intrigue came crashing down. I should have known it wouldn’t be like stories and entertainment shows. Not knowing where to start, Lavan tried to calm his racing thoughts.
“If I am going to help at all, I need to know things that aren’t public knowledge, things that can’t be told to just anyone, and maybe even things that seem obvious to you but might be meaningless to others. For example,” Delilah pointed at his right hand. “What is the significance of that tattoo on your wrist?”
Lavan simply stared, thoughts still jumbled, not sure how to respond. She gave him a gentle smile, most likely trying to put him at ease.
“Other people I have met in this city have tattoos, but yours has such exquisite detail. And there is a similar one on the hand of the prince. And, though it isn’t easily seen, there is an intricate tattoo on the king as well, but of a different pattern. So, I am assuming you are closer to the prince and king than you let on.”
Lavan’s shoulders slumped and he looked down. He could no longer stay anonymous, but she didn’t seem to be anxious to turn him in for blasphemy or reward. The fact of her skills only proved to him that if anyone could help him, she could. So, he would tell her everything.
