by Jaleta Clegg
"I'm afraid to find out who I am." His eyes opened. His fingers were limp in mine. "I think I may have done something terrible."
I couldn't meet his gaze. I looked away, at the viewscreen. It would be so much easier for me if I couldn't remember what I'd done. Therapy hadn't helped me forget, it had helped me deal with the guilt. Most of the time.
I tried to pull my hands free. I wanted to retreat again, inside myself where no one knew what pain I faced. Mart shifted his grip, holding my hands up to his face. He breathed across my palms, a warm stirring of air. I looked back at him. He studied my hands, cradling them in his longer hands. He folded them gently together. His gaze raised to mine.
His look was full of sympathy, of complete understanding. "I feel your pain. Old pain, new pain, let it go, Dace." He spoke my name for the first time.
It opened a door between us. Golden warmth spread between our hands. I felt a connection to Mart like none I'd ever experienced.
I knew I couldn't leave him. I had to find out who he was. I had to find a way to protect him. We were linked. I would die of curiosity if I never found out why.
Chapter 6
Footsteps pattered across stone tiles. The young woman scurried under the spreading shade of the tree to the room on the far side of the mansion. Her hair resembled the puff of a dandelion, in color as much as texture. Jewelry in the shape of tiny winged creatures danced and fluttered above her silvery mane. She stopped two steps from the door. She brushed her white robe straight and slowed her breathing before she entered the room.
"What is it, Ti'uro? Your haste disturbs my meditations." The ancient woman sat on a rug at the far side of the room. Incense smoke drifted in lazy spirals around her tightly braided silver hair.
The younger woman bowed, her fluff of hair waving with the movement. "I felt your summons, Myriassima."
Myriassima snapped her eyes open. She waved away the cloud of incense. "I did not summon you."
Ti'uro knelt on the stone flooring. "I felt an urgency with the summons. It tasted of your zhria."
"I was dreaming, seeking a vision of Jericho. I saw nothing. But we are heart-kin. Perhaps you felt my need to see."
Ti'uro frowned. "Perhaps."
The com unit chimed. Both women glanced towards it. Ti'uro rose to her feet to cross the room and answer. "Yes?" She listened, her head cocked. "Thank you." She disconnected the line before turning to face Myriassima. "Your package has been delivered. They do not know whether the contact has been successful or not."
Myriassima smiled and closed her eyes. "The pieces are in play. It is up to fre'zhria whether we succeed or not. You must learn patience, Ti'uro."
Ti'uro bowed, shuffling backwards from the room. She left Myriassima to her meditations. Fre'zhria might rule their hearts and lives, but sometimes it needed a hand. She fetched a wrap on her way from the mansion.
The night air of Shamustel was chilly, a light breeze teased her hair as she hurried to the transit station. She boarded the train then relaxed on the seat, watching lights flash past. She pulled a winged creature from her hair, twisting the delicate gold strand around her fingers. The jewelry fluttered and danced above her palm. A chance encounter took on new meaning when viewed through the power of her zhria. Myriassima was not the only one with the gift of farseeing.
Ti'uro leaned back against the seat, her gaze lingering on the faces of her fellow travelers. This late at night, they were few. Not few enough. Ti'uro adjusted her wrap to cover her distinctive hair.
She watched the flutter of pale blue wings. She'd made only two in the last year. One that was more than it seemed and the other a lure, bait for a trap. She bit her lip and wrapped her hand around the jewelry, hiding it from sight. The actions were necessary, for the good of the Hrissia'noru. Myriassima had seen it in her visions.
She emerged from the transit station, climbing the stairs to the street. She paused at the entrance to watch a ship lift from the port. She'd wanted that life, once, but her zhria had called her to Myriassima's side. She'd certified as a pilot before she'd left. Sometimes the siren call still touched her. But not tonight.
She strolled through the downtown district. Lights twinkled in the planters of flowers and shrubs that decorated the wide walkways. She enjoyed her forays to the city, but tonight, a sense of urgency pushed her to hurry. But hurrying brought attention of the wrong kind. She nodded to a police officer standing on the corner, keeping an eye on the pedestrians. He returned the nod, his gaze moving to a knot of laughing teens behind her.
Ti'uro stopped across the street from the Patrol building. It was quiet, this late in the evening. She shivered, pulling her wrap closer. Her chill was internal, a premonition of trouble. She hurried across the street and up the stairs to the entrance. She laid her hand on the door handle. Currents of possibilities collided and interwove. Her actions would decide the course of events.
She tightened her grip and pulled the door open. She'd already decided, when she gave her necklaces to a woman touched by fate.
She crossed the lobby to the guard standing near the reception desk. He nodded in recognition. She collected a packet from the reception desk, tucking it beneath her wrap.
Lowell's packet would contain instructions. Ti'uro hoped it would also contain a miracle. Dace was going to need one.
Chapter 7
I felt the connection any time I was near Mart, an emotional pull tugging us together. It wasn't demanding, but it was different from anything I'd ever felt before. It kept me off balance. I couldn't retreat into the shell I usually hid in. Mart pulled me out, without even realizing what he was doing.
He remembered nothing beyond his name and how to play comets. I saw glimpses in his eyes of something else. I could almost see the knowledge locked in his head. I lost my concentration at cards when Mart played. The constant tug between us drove me crazy. I got so jumpy Ghost wouldn't come near me. She deserted me for Mart.
I finally hid in my cabin, claiming I had a headache. It didn't fool Jasyn. She gave me fifteen minutes before she came in, without knocking.
I was lying on my bunk, staring at the ceiling. If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could feel Mart in my head.
"What is going on this time, Dace?" Jasyn pushed my feet out of the way and sat on the end of my bunk. She had her nail file with her. I swear she never put it down except when she was navigating. Her nails were perfect, probably because she was constantly buffing them. "I'm not leaving until you tell me."
I didn't know myself what was going on.
She heaved a martyred sigh and quit sharpening her nails. "You are absolutely impossible, Dace," she said, but nicely. "Just tell me, please."
"I don't know how."
"That's Mart's line."
"No, his line is I can't remember. Something happened between us, Jasyn. I don't know what, but now, every time I'm in the same room with him, it's like I can feel whatever he's feeling."
She frowned. "He's an empath? But that doesn't make sense. You shouldn't be feeling anything." She knew how I scored on the psychic rating scales. I was a zero.
"I can't leave him behind now, even if I wanted to."
"Someone sent him, someone who knew you'd be on Verrus."
"Dozens of people knew we'd be there, that's what happens when you have a regular route."
"This whole situation doesn't make any sense. Why the butterfly necklace?"
"To catch my attention? I don't know, Jasyn. The answers we need are in Mart's head."
"This doesn't feel like something Lowell would set up."
"He wouldn't have to be so elaborate. All he has to do is enforce his paper that says I work for him."
"Or send Tayvis," Jasyn said with a sly grin.
"Lowell already tried that. Tayvis wouldn't do it again."
She buffed her nails. It was her way of concentrating, her signal she was thinking.
I punched my pillow into shape behind me. No, this didn't feel like something Lowell would se
t up. Besides, he'd promised after Xqtl that he would never set me up again. At least not without my permission.
"What do we really know about the woman who gave us the necklaces?" Jasyn examined her nails.
"I talked with her for only a few minutes, Jasyn. So much has happened since then, I really don't remember much about her, except she was small and fluttery and reminded me of her necklaces."
"Are you sure the one Mart gave you was the same?"
"Positive."
"So what are we going to do on Landruss?"
"Keep Mart hidden and start digging up whatever we can find."
"Lady Rina has contacts there. I can ask the Family."
"And owe them. I'd rather not. We still owe them for what happened on Xqtl." I'd never gotten the full accounting of damages and casualties for the Family ships that had answered Jasyn's request for help.
"They still owe us." Jasyn started on her other hand. "They've taken over quite a bit of Targon's and Blackthorne's trade routes. The legitimate ones. Thanks to you, they were just waiting for someone to move in."
"Don't remind me." I'd taken out the entire top levels of both crime syndicates. If you listened to the rumors, I'd done it all by myself with only a handlight and a stunner.
"What do we know? Jericho and the silver lady. That's not much information."
"I'll keep trying with Mart." I rubbed my hands, still feeling the tingle. "It's all in his head, if we can find a way to access it. We may have to go to Lowell about this."
"Let's wait and see how many people shoot at us on Landruss."
"Hopefully, none."
"Judging by past experience," Jasyn said, "We're about due for another round of running and shooting and hiding. And don't you dare start apologizing or feeling guilty about it. I haven't been bored since I met you. The experience of a lifetime. Maybe we should sell tour packages."
"You're as bad as Jerimon."
I was interrupted by the reentry alarm. I got off my bunk.
Clark beat me to the cockpit by only seconds, mostly because he'd been sitting at the table trying to teach Mart how to play Yulan Crystals. I was hopeless at the game. Clark hadn't given up hope of playing a real four person game. He and Jasyn and Jerimon were avid players. Mart seemed as clueless about it as I was.
Clark took copilot, I sat in my chair and hit the button that told the ship we were in the cockpit. The alarm quit beeping. Jasyn slid into the navigators seat right behind me.
Things were very busy for a few minutes as we made the transition back to normal space and engaged the sublight engines. We'd come out right where we were supposed to. I slowed the ship, matching the vector and speed Landruss control sent us.
"Where's Jerimon?" I asked when Clark swiveled around to run the scans.
We were on a convoluted course to the planet, dictated by the high traffic in the system.
"Sleeping," Jasyn said.
"Hiding out so we don't make him actually earn his pay," Clark said. "He's being an idiot about Mart. Watch out for the freighter, it's drifting a bit."
I twitched the thrusters. The freighter corrected course and we were clear again.
"Is he still muttering about turning Mart in?" Jasyn said.
"Did I miss the argument about it?" I asked. "Give me a scan portside. I'm picking up something."
"You missed a lot the last two days," Jasyn said. "He's just sore about losing at Comets. Even when we didn't cheat, Mart skunked him."
"Private yacht," Clark said.
"Control is yelling at them," Jasyn said. She monitored communications on her headset. "They want us to stay in our path."
I slowed the ship, letting the yacht pass us.
"So you admit you were cheating?" Jerimon said. He took the scan station from Clark.
"I never cheat at cards," I said.
"Nobody likes a liar, Dace." Jerimon sounded smug.
"Nobody likes a sore loser, either," Clark said.
"You never caught us so it's not cheating," Jasyn added.
"Why do I get the feeling no one likes me anymore?" Jerimon complained. "You've got a Patrol cruiser moving up behind us."
"They aren't after us, Dace," Jasyn teased. "You can quit muttering."
"I'm not muttering, I'm thinking up insults to use next time I get mad at Jerimon."
"Are you planning on using them soon?" Clark adjusted the power settings. "The stabilizer is still flaking out. Adjust it three points up."
I spun the dial. The ship shifted direction marginally.
"Is that Landruss?" Mart asked behind us.
The planet grew steadily in the viewscreen, a swirling ball of white and blue and green. The browns were sparse. Landruss was well settled. The weather was controlled, the land kept green and lush.
"Take a seat," Jasyn told him. "We're landing soon."
Mart didn't hear her. I stole a glance over my shoulder. He was staring at the planet, his eyes lost and distant. He shook his head.
"It isn't right." He turned and went back into the lounge.
"Have you ever considered he's just crazy, Dace?" Jerimon asked in a very quiet voice. "Maybe the people chasing him were just trying to put him back in a hospital."
"Have you ever considered shutting your mouth?" I shot back. "They weren't using tranquilizer darts or stunners. They wanted him dead."
"Then you ought to go to the Patrol about it," Jerimon said firmly.
"I only work for Lowell on paper," I said. "Unlike you."
"Are you ever going to let that go? I apologized for it. I'm sorry."
"I will when you stop acting like an idiot and telling me to run to the authorities. Give me another port scan. That stupid freighter is drifting again."
"No fighting," Jasyn said. "You both promised. And if you do something stupid, brother, I'll deal with you."
"I was planning on contacting Lowell about Mart anyway," I said.
"When?" he demanded.
"Shut up, Jerimon," Clark said. "We've got a rise in the engine temperature."
I glanced at his side of the controls. "Probably the cam shaft slipping, nothing to worry about yet."
We hit the atmosphere. The ship fishtailed before I got the stabilizer to quit acting up. I was ready to just take a wrench to it and beat it to scrap then replace the entire assemblage.
We got the ship into its berth and shut down the engines.
"I'll take port authority," Jasyn volunteered. "And I'll contact Lady Rina's people."
"I'm coming with you," Clark said. "Jerimon?"
"I'll just stay here and pout," Jerimon said.
"Stay away from the Patrol," I warned him. "I'll take care of that."
"I'll get the cargo delivered," Jerimon said. He waited until Clark was looking the other way before sticking his tongue out at me.
I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him.
"Cut it out, children," Clark said. "Or I'll make both of you scrub the ship."
"Come on," Jasyn said to Jerimon. "I've got the contact information for the cargo."
Clark waited until Jerimon was out of earshot before asking, "Do you still want me to get Mart registered as the engineer? Fake papers will cost us. Landruss isn't a cheap place to pick them up, but they'll be very good."
"It will help avoid questions. I'll see if he knows any engineering."
"Call if you need any parts picked up," Clark stood and stretched. "You ready, Jasyn?"
She called back an affirmative. The three of them left the ship. It was winter on Landruss, the air was chilly. There wasn't any snow, which I considered a good thing.
I ran diagnostic checks on the engine. I was waiting for the results when Mart came into the cockpit.
"This isn't the right place." He frowned at the landing field on the viewscreen.
"This is Landruss. Where is the right place?"
"I don't know. I just know this isn't it."
"The retreat of the silver lady?" I asked. The readings were what I expect
ed. An hour with a few tools and it would be good again. The stabilizer was another story.
Mart was silent, staring at the viewscreen. He had a faraway look in his eyes. My eyes were drawn to his hands. They hung loose at his sides. He slowly clenched them into fists. On impulse I reached out, taking them in my own hands, wrapping my fingers around his fists. There was a sharp tingle of almost pain that faded immediately. The tugging warmth between us was severed.
Mart looked down at me, at my hands on his fists. He jerked them away. "Don't touch me." His voice was hard, strange. His eyes were brown pebbles.
I pulled my hands back, making fists of my own. My sense of danger warned me away from him.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Mart." The sharpness melted. He blinked bewildered eyes. "What did I do?" he asked, his voice tight and tormented. He turned away, his shoulders shaking. "What have I done? I can feel blood on my hands." He held them away from him, palm up on either side. He tilted his head back, moaning.
I was at a loss. I had no idea what to do.
"Jericho?" I asked in a whisper.
"Blood on the stones," he said, his voice strangled by emotion. "They want me. I did it."
"Did what?"
"Betrayed them. The children died because of me." He pulled his arms in and covered his face with his hands. He slowly fell to his knees, sobbing into his hands.
"Mart." I reached one hand to his shoulder and touched him gingerly. I didn't know what his reaction would be. I was ready to fight him if I had to.
He melted to the floor, bending forward until his forehead touched the fibermat flooring. He sobbed uncontrollably. I stood behind him, my hand still stretched out.
"Mart?" I touched his shoulder.
He jumped, sitting up, startled and wide eyed. Tears streaked his face. He looked over his shoulder at me. Whatever he had just remembered faded from his mind. His eyes took on the lost look. He lifted his hands, looking at them.
"There was something, something about my hands. It's gone now." He dropped his hands, limp in his lap. "I'm tired." He got up without looking at me and locked himself in the end cabin.
