“Do you? Remember, that is? Specifically, anything to do with the admiral and Captain Sebastian?”
He thought for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. “Yes. There’s a chink in the Tin Soldier’s armor.” He looked up at her. “It’s Sebastian.”
“You made a vague comment at the time about a heat coming from him and that it wasn’t anger.”
“Extraordinary. A ’cybe infatuated with a human. Sellarmaris Biocybernetics would not be happy with that.”
Something in Serafino’s tone unsettled Eden. “I’m not looking to compile evidence for a Section Forty-Six. I need to know if what he feels for Tasha is genuine or something PsyServ could have planted to throw off any telepath reading him.”
He nodded. Eden waited, but he said nothing.
“I know you have real reasons to distrust him, because of your sister,” Eden continued when he didn’t answer. “I’m not saying that’s not important. It is. But first we really need to know whose side he’s on.”
“I’m working on that, but I can’t get a reading on him right now. Not at this distance, not with that damned thing pounding in my head.”
Eden felt immediately guilty for pressing the issue. “Then forget it for the time being. There’s some swelling around the implant, but that will subside.” She checked the readouts on the diag bed. “You’re healing nicely. I’d say another five, six hours and you won’t even know I’ve been poking around in there. In the meantime, Captain Sebastian needs to talk to you as soon as possible. Do you feel up to it?”
Her question elicited an immediate devilish grin. “Well, I don’t know, Doc.” He made a grab for her hand. “Why don’t you feel—”
She slipped from his grasp and groaned loudly. “I’ll get the captain,” she told him as she exited.
She reached Tasha in her office. Not knowing who might be in there but assuming the worst, she went through their agreed-upon routine: “I’d like to see you now for those final tests I mentioned earlier.”
“Of course,” came Tasha’s voice over the comm. “I’ll be there in five.”
Jace Serafino watched Eden thread her way through bustling med-techs as she headed for her office. It was a rather pleasant view, the soft curve of her hips apparent even under the shapeless lab coat. Compassion, competence, and a very womanly body, well-padded in all the right places. That was Eden Fynn. She fascinated him. She tempted him.
And she also made it clear that she was off limits. She could flirt, she could smile, and then she could go right back to being the chief medical officer, leaving him hanging on a proverbial limb.
He was definitely not used to that. It was he, Jace Serafino, who would decide upon whom he would bestow his charms. And it was he, Jace Serafino, who would decide when to withdraw them as well and move on to the next interesting little flower.
But Eden was more than an interesting little flower. She was a whole garden of endless delights. He felt as if he were locked outside the gate, unable to gain access but drawn by the sweetness of her scent.
It all came together in the few minutes after he woke up—all the memories of touching her, kissing her in their telepathic meetings. All the memories of speaking to her, flirting with her in sick bay. He put together the warmth with the woman, finally.
And she wasn’t to be had. Not by him. He felt that very clearly. He was mystified how she could enjoy his company so much and yet be so willing to let him go.
He knew he was charming. He knew he was good-looking. Scores of women had told him so.
And she was still willing to let him go.
He’d have to correct that notion very shortly. Just as he’d have to monitor the situation between the Tin Soldier and Sass. So Kel-Paten had finally learned the meaning of love. Interesting. Perhaps it was time, then, to teach the ’cybe the meaning of loss.
A flash of movement in the corner of his hospital room caught his eye. He turned, tensing slightly, on the alert. But nothing was there. At least, nothing he could see. But yet…
He reached out telepathically, ignoring the twinges of pain, the sense of disorientation. Something was definitely there. And it was laughing at him.
A noise. He looked around quickly. Nothing. Yet he could feel it, feel the presence…
A large black furzel jumped on his bed, landing gracefully at his feet.
“Murrupf!” said Reilly.
“Murrupf yourself,” Jace said, badly imitating the furzel’s noise. He reached for its soft head, but the yellow eyes narrowed.
Okay, Jace said. What’s the deal here?
The answer, as expected, came more in feelings and images than in words. It took a moment for Jace to place them in an order that made sense: Eden. Warmth. Love. Protect.
You’re the doctor’s furzel?
Again, images and feelings: Eden. Love. Food! Eden. Protect.
I won’t hurt Dr. Eden.
Jace saw his own image, slightly skewed, from the furzel’s point of view: Mistrust. Not know. Strong feelings to Eden. Danger! No bring danger to Eden. Love. Protect. Food!
I promise. I won’t hurt Dr. Eden. She’s my friend too.
Reilly cocked his head. Maybe. Not know. Sense danger. Protect Eden. Love. Go Blink now.
With a flick of his tail he was gone, dissolving into thin air.
That startled Jace for a moment, then he grinned. No mere alley furzel, that one. A high-level furzel, with telepathic and teleportation talents. He wondered if the lovely doctor knew what she had. Or had the animal—sensing her latent abilities—sought her out?
He tried scanning for the furzel again and flinched when something distant yet uneasy brushed across his senses. Carefully, he reached for it, probing, but his head pounded. The damned implant had him worried, making him a bit cautious.
And the furzel too. Sense danger, the furzel told him.
Something was on or near this ship. He couldn’t tell. It might be more than just the headache stopping him. He could faintly feel what might be the jagged outlines of a psychic block.
But who or what on this ship could do that? It wasn’t another Nasyry. He’d know a Nasyry mind signature immediately. No, this had something else, something familiar yet…
No. Yes. He thought he almost saw it clearly now. Sophisticated yet obscure…
Damn. It almost felt like PsyServ. Like the Faction.
SICK BAY, DR. MONTERRO’S OFFICE
Sass leaned back in Cal Monterro’s office chair. Serafino lounged in a smaller chair across from her. Eden, on his left, perched on the desk’s edge, where she had a clear view, over Serafino’s dark head, of anyone coming down sick bay’s inner corridor.
They were the only three in Cal’s office. Cal was poised outside Eden’s office to alert them to any “incoming,” which included at this point any Triad officer other than medical staff. Sass and Eden figured the ruse about the medical tests would last about forty-five minutes at most before someone—most likely Kel-Paten—would come hunting.
“Okay, Serafino, we don’t have much time,” Sass said. “To date you’ve only been able to give us bits and pieces about a threat you call the Faction. I need answers and I need them without the usual lubashit.”
Serafino unlaced his fingers and gestured casually at her. “Why do you think I came looking for you, for the Vax, in the first place?”
“I have several theories, but I’d rather hear your version,” Sass replied.
“You’re U-Cee and a student of Gund’jalar’s,” Serafino said, naming the Rebashee mystic and mercenary. Gund’jalar was well known—like most of his people—for his dislike of the Triad, even though almost sixty-five years had passed since the Triad had forcibly annexed the Rebashee’s Danvaral sector. “Everything I’ve been able to uncover about the Faction is closely tied in with PsyServ and key people in the Triad.”
“PsyServ?” Eden straightened abruptly.
“They don’t want to control just telepaths. They want to control everyone. Whoever they can’t
, they kill. Kel-Sennarin isn’t their only double-agent. Kel-Adro was too. But he’s dead. Now.”
“Unfortunate shuttle accident.” Sass remembered the reports just before the peace talks.
“Timely shuttle accident,” Serafino corrected. “He wasn’t cooperating.”
“And what does PsyServ get out of this?” Sass asked.
“My guess is control of every branch of government, every branch of business that relies on its services. Law enforcement, the courts, financial institutions, the medical community. PsyServ evaluators determine the guilty and the innocent, the honest and the fraudulent, based on their telepathic probes.”
“Which they already do,” Eden put in.
“But you see, now the Faction decides ahead of time who’s guilty and who’s innocent based on what suits its needs. And that may have nothing to do with the truth. They’ll control businesses, even Fleet, the same way. Evaluators loyal to the Faction will decide where to invest and who gets to helm a huntership.” He nodded to Sass. “You didn’t undergo a PsyServ evaluation before you were assigned here, did you?”
“The U-Cees fought that. We don’t use TelTal the way the Triad uses PsyServ. So it’s not part of the APIP program.”
“It will be in two months.” Jace’s tone was ominous. “Think of the uproar when it’s revealed that the Vaxxar’s captain has past associations with Dag Zanorian and, more so, Gund’jalar. I’m guessing the Faction already knows or suspects—”
“It’s not in my records,” Sass cut in, her stomach tense, her breathing constricted as if a black-gloved hand already closed around her throat. If the Faction revealed that information, it could split the Alliance wide apart. And the U-Cees would look like the guilty party for having her in their ranks. That could even spark another war. Gods. “I’ve seen my APIP records and Kel-Paten’s personal file on me. They have my connection with Kesh Valirr and my official stint with UCID. But the time I spent on Lethant is still recorded as official leave and sabbatical, showing me on Varlow and Trillas. And there’s nothing on Gund’jalar.”
Serafino nodded thoughtfully. “If you weren’t a student of his, I wouldn’t be here now. That’s how widespread the Faction is. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”
“So you did come looking for us?” Eden asked.
“I knew from my sources that the Vax was in the quadrant, knew the Alliance would send Kel-Paten on my trail. I needed to contact you,” Serafino said to Sass, “in a way that the Faction wouldn’t deem suspicious—even though at the time, with the implant functioning, I wasn’t sure why I had to. Find Lady Sass kept echoing in my mind for the past few weeks as the headaches got worse. I guess, subliminally, I thought your UCID connections could do something with this.” He tapped his head. “But finding this beautiful Zingaran doctor,” and he reached for Eden’s hand, “was an incredible surprise. And delight.” He brushed a kiss across Eden’s fingers.
“Serafino.” Sass had to bring his attention back to the problem. “The doc tells me you’re a high-level telepath. Is that correct?”
“Except when the damned implant kicks in, yes.”
“And part Nasyry?”
“Courtesy of my father.”
“Any other talents? Healing? Piloting?” She suspected the latter, given his ability to evade Kel-Paten all these years. Nasyry pilots had the ability to read jumpspace fixes without using gate beacons.
“Nas garra,” he corrected her. “Pilot guide. Unofficial, of course. I left Ysanti before I could be ranked by my people. Bianca wasn’t happy there.”
“And that’s how PsyServ managed to put that implant in your head.”
Some of the haughty confidence left Serafino’s features. “You know about my sister.”
Sass nodded.
“That was their method to guarantee my cooperation. One I intend to fully thank the Tin Soldier for. But not,” and he held up one hand as if anticipating Sass’s reaction to the bitterness in his words, “until all else is settled. I guess I should be grateful they didn’t kill Bianca or my nephew and settled for this instead.”
“And PsyServ wanted you to…”
“Infiltrate the Triad Ministry of Intelligence by accepting their commissions, including this latest one to track down some possible arms running to the Illithians. This isn’t my first mission with the MI. PsyServ—the Faction—wants to know everything the MI knows. Only they don’t pay with credits, they pay with pain.”
“They want to know more than what MI knows,” Eden put in. “That implant has a recording function. It’s giving them your entire life.”
Serafino paled. “It’s what?”
“I’m beginning to believe that’s why they wanted Kel-Paten to bring you back in—alive,” Eden said. “They want that recording in your head of everything you’re heard, seen, and thought. This may well go beyond your infiltrating MI.”
Serafino sat quietly, one hand fisted against his mouth. Eden’s revelation clearly disturbed him. “Bastards,” he said after a moment. He rapped his knuckles on the armrest, eyes unfocused. Finally, he nodded. “There’s another element to the Faction. Something more than just PsyServ, but I don’t know quite what or who. But that must be what they’re really after. What I know. Who I can expose.”
“We need those names,” Sass said.
“Names I don’t have—yet—other than those I told you about, like Kel-Sennarin. Just images. Some odd snatches of conversation. I must be closer to the truth than I realize. I just wish I knew what I saw or overheard that’s so critical.”
“Eden, give him a datalyzer, let him record all he knows. Then get it to me. I’ll append it to my file on the implant.”
Serafino was still deep in thought. He shifted in his chair, bringing his hands together. “They did the same thing to me that they did to the Tin Soldier. I feel stupid for not realizing that sooner. You know when he spikes in, there’s a two-way data transfer. He might be looking for a particular report. But from what I’ve heard, PsyServ can just as easily poke around in his programs and alter them as needed.”
“That’s not reassuring news,” Eden said, her lips tight.
Serafino glanced at her and Eden’s head tilted slightly, as if she was listening. But Serafino hadn’t said anything…Not that I can hear, Sass realized. But Eden could.
“Love letters? The Tin Soldier wrote you love letters?” Serafino stared at Sass. Damn! She felt her cheeks burn, and she knew exactly what Serafino had learned from Eden’s thoughts.
“Log entries,” she corrected tersely. “And how did we suddenly get on this subject?” She slanted a narrow-eyed glance at Eden.
“I…we have been concerned about the possibility that the admiral’s emotions might be part of a program.” Eden splayed one hand toward Sass in a somewhat apologetic gesture. “What Jace—Captain Serafino—said just now made me realize that was a possibility we couldn’t afford to discount. And he—” She shot a hard look at Serafino. “You should ask first, you know, before you go traipsing around in my thoughts!”
Something between a sigh and a chuckle escaped Serafino’s lips. “Sorry, sweetling. But there was this sudden sense of worry emanating from you.” He turned back to Sass. “So the Tin Soldier is trying to seduce you through love letters?”
Sass glared at him. Serafino held up both hands quickly, in mock defense. His charming, devil-may-care attitude was back, covering what troubled him, she guessed. It troubled her too. Serafino knew who she was, what she’d done. How much did the Faction know?
“I’ve seen that right hook of yours, Lady Sass. I surrender!”
“They were logs, Serafino.” It wasn’t just that she’d read Kel-Paten’s logs—almost all of them now. It was that Serafino knew and thought it comical. She could tell by the tone of his voice, the squinty narrowing of his eyes, the twitch of his mouth. She felt embarrassed, not so much for herself but for Branden Kel-Paten, and he wasn’t even here. “I wasn’t supposed to find them, let alone read them. But th
ey came along in the downloads I filched trying to find data on that damned device in your head.”
“That’s why I asked you earlier about what happened in the ready room,” Eden said. “It’s critical to know which side Kel-Paten is on.”
“More so because you know who I am,” Sass put in quietly. “If the Faction pulled that from your mind, they may have told the admiral.”
Serafino’s mouth tightened into a thin line, then he shook his head. “I haven’t checked in with PsyServ in almost three months. I wasn’t thinking of contacting you back then, anyway. And nothing I can sense from the Tin Soldier tells me he knows who you are. At least, not consciously. He’s very attracted to you and very protective.”
Eden let out a soft sigh. “I agree. My readings say he’s not a threat—not to you,” she added with a nod to Sass.
For some reason she didn’t want to explore, that information made Sass feel better.
“But keep in mind,” Serafino put in, “the Tin Soldier’s complicated, a product of PsyServ’s and Sellarmaris’s best. Which means we can’t rule out that the Faction could control him. I wasn’t fully myself in the interview. Give me another shot at him.”
“The shuttle trip to Panperra will be your next chance,” Sass said. “Having Kel-Paten against us will be a definite problem. Having him on our side could be a tremendous plus.” Having him also in love with her…was the most frightening thing of all.
Because the woman he thought he loved didn’t exist. And the one that did was someone he hated.
And who would be the one to be hurt when he found out?
She shoved the question away, feeling stupid and uncharacteristically sentimental. “We confirmed with Panperra’s outer guidance beacon about twenty minutes ago. I’ve requisitioned a shuttle for three hours from now, if the doc says you’re up to it.” At Eden’s affirmative, Sass continued, “We’re going to have to do some fancy dancing on station. I alerted two of Gund’jalar’s people, who will help. I need you back on the Vax, Serafino, but without Kel-Farquin or Kel-Paten knowing about it. For all intents and purposes, it’s going to look like you’re on a long trip to their prison on Riln Marin.”
Games of Command Page 16
