by Unknown
Unfortunately, the U- proved to be even smaller than she'd thought, at least on the inside. When she commented on it, Panera told her that the craft was much less fuel-efficient than other spacecraft, and therefore a great deal of space had to be devoted to the fuel pods.
But her worst shock was yet to come. There were only two tiny cabins, each with narrow bunk-style beds, one atop the other along one wall. Since both crew members were male, she couldn't see how she was to be accommodated. Panera walked into the one cabin, then turned to her.
"Which bunk would you prefer?"
What she would have "preferred" was to leave right now. This was impossible! She'd have no privacy whatsoever. Was he doing this deliberately, hoping that she'd leave? She knew that there were nearly as many female pilots as male. Had he arranged for this crew to be male?
"Jalissa," he said, using her given name for the first time, "I know this isn't the luxury you're accustomed to, but let me remind you that it was your superiors who insisted that you come along on this mission. If they failed to explain the accommodations, the fault is theirs."
She bristled. "How could they have explained it, when none of us has ever been inside a U-?" "Good point," he said, nodding. "But it doesn't solve the problem. Do you want to leave?"
She wasn't sure if he sounded hopeful or not. Miklos Panera, like most Vantrans, was very good at concealing his thoughts. But there was no way she could walk away from this mission.
"I'll take the lower bunk," she told him, hoping that was the one he preferred.
A short time later, they were space-bound and the lunar base was a tiny dot, silhouetted against the large, bluish sphere of Vantra. More than once in the intervening moments, Jalissa had almost demanded to leave. She was at the complete mercy of the militaryand Special Agent Paneranow.
Furthermore, the Priesthood didn't want her to pursue this Warlock. It hadn't been issued as an order, but that was only because the Priesthood was accustomed to instant compliance with its decisions. The Coven was no democracy. But Jalissa had been away too long to accede so readily to veiled commands. So instead, she'd listened to her own counseland now here she was, forced to depend totally on a Vantran who undoubtedly wished to discredit her, and might even plan to murder her.
She explored the ship, and saw that it boasted few amenities. There was a tiny exercise room, an automated galley with one small table and a work area with a large comm unit. Panera hadn't said how long it would take them to reach the Outer Ring on this craft, but she knew it would be weeks on other spaceships.
She returned to the tiny galley and grimaced at the offerings. It seemed that no matter how many advances were made in space travel, no one had yet improved the food. And to make matters worse, the selections were entirely veg. The Vantrans didn't eat meat, though some of them did eat the delicious fish that populated their waters.
After collecting the best meal she could under the circumstances, Jalissa sat down at the table. A moment later, Panera walked in, and the already small space became even more crowded.
He selected a meal and took a seat opposite her. "You said at the briefing that you think this man should be returned to the Coven if he is a Warlockbut you haven't expressed an opinion as to whether or not the Coven still exists."
"I doubt it," she replied evenly, although she was very uncomfortable discussing the Coven with him. She was sure that Special Agent training, like her own, included teaching people to pick up on the smallest nuances of speech and body language.
"And despite what they sometimes say to offworlders, most of my people don't either." She was referring, of course, to the Tevingians, which, as far as he was concerned, were her people. "If the Coven does still exist, it's thanks to your people," he remarked neutrally.
"We've paid a heavy price for that," she stated coldly. "Even though it's unlikely that Tevingians were at fault." Tevingi had been forced to accept a huge permanent base for the Federation, where thousands of largely Vantran troops were quartered.
"It's a convenient basethen and now. I understand that it's about to be expanded."
"Not if my government has anything to say about it." Which they wouldn't, of course.
"Tevingi is a strange world," he went on in a musing tone. "Of all the worlds in the galaxy, it comes closest to Vantra in its traditions and historyand even its science. But its people are secretive."
"Tevingians have long memories," she replied. "And as long as that base is there, filled mostly with Vantrans, those memories will remain."
He nodded. "I've often thought that the mix of troops there should be changed."
"Then why hasn't it been?" she demanded.
He laughed. "If it were up to me, it would happenbut it isn't. I spent several months on Tevingi some years ago. I liked it, even thought I wasn't always welcomed. But the lack of sunlight bothered me."
"Yes. Most off-worlders feel that way." Tevingi had an almost perpetual cloud cover, and the effect was heightened still further by the narrow valleys and tall mountains that covered much of the planet.
For her, however, it had seemed a place filled with light, after years spent mostly underground on the Coven's adopted world.
"Do you ever return there?" he asked.
She was tempted to tell him that he was asking a question for which he must already have an answer. She knew perfectly well that her comings and goings were watched by the Special Agency, as were those of all Whisperers. But instead, she told him that she hadn't been back there for nearly two years. It was a long journey and she had so little time off.
"But you still have family and friends there?" he asked.
"Yes, of course."
"Good, because that's where we're going first."
"We are?" She was surprised, having assumed that they would go directly to the Outer Ring to begin their search.
"Since by most accounts this troublemaker appears to be Tevingian, the most prudent course is to try to find out if that's true. I have a holo drawing of him from a description given by a member of his audience on Darebi."
The description hadn't been given willingly, she thought angrily, certain that drugs must have been used on the unfortunate informant.
"I expect your full cooperation in this matter, Specialist Kendor." Stung by his sudden retreat into cold formality as much as by his words, Jalissa stared at him coldly. ''I resent your implication that I would do anything but cooperate to the fullest, Agent Pandera."
"I'm very familiar with your recordand cooperation with the Special Agency has not always been apparent."
That was certainly true. And in any event, arguing with him now served no purpose. "I've been no less cooperative than any of my colleagues," she replied with a smile.
Rather to her surprise, he laughed. "Well put. To state it plainly, you cooperate only when you have no choicewhich is the situation on this mission."
The smile remained on his lips as he spoke, but that did little to soften his words. Jalissa wanted to lash out at him with her powers. She had just begun to acquire those powers when she left the Coven to live on Tevingi, and in all the years since then, despite numerous aggravations, she'd never once thought of striking out at someone. In fact, as that incident years ago proved, she had very nearly forgotten about them.
But Miklos Panera was trying her patience as no one ever had before. His Vantran arrogance, combined with that undeniable physical attraction, were creating in her a volatile melange of emotions she knew she must control.
"I fully understand my . . . limitations on this mission, Agent Panera," she replied formally.
"Do you?" he asked, that smile still hovering about his finely sculpted mouth. "A glance at your record would suggest that you've never had occasion to know your limitations, Specialist Kendor.
"It is a remarkable record, by the way. For someone so young, you've achieved quite a lot."
"Thank you," she acknowledged in that same formal tone.
"But sooner or later, even the
best come up against something they can't handle."
"Has that happened to you?" she inquired archly.
His green eyes glittered with something that might have been amusementor might not have been. "Not yet," he replied.
"I'll expect you to use your contacts on Tevingi to see if we can find out anything about this man," he went on. "And to see if he could be part of a conspiracy."
"A conspiracy?" she echoed. "What are you talking about?"
"We have reason to believe that there could be a group on Tevingi that is hoping to form an alliance with some of the Outer Ring worlds and break away from the Federation."
"That's ridiculous! It seems to me that Vantran intelligence-gathering can't be as good as you claim if you believe that. My people are as much a part of the Federation as every other world is. "What's really bothering you, Panera, is that you haven't been able to infiltrate Tevingi as you have the other worldsdespite your huge base there."
"Believe it or not, I admire your people's fierce independence. But that's on a purely personal basis. On a professional level, I worry that the Tevingians could be planning to cause trouble for the Federation."
She stared at him in silence. It seemed to her, improbable as it was, that he spoke the truth about his admiration for the Tevingians. But that wouldn't stop him from causing serious problems for them. No group defended the Federation more fiercely than the Special Agency, which had been created to do just that.
"I also happen to think that my people made a mistake by punishing yours over the Coven episode," he added. "There was never any real proof that the Tevingians interfered, and punishment without a determination of guilt is counter to all that Vantrans stand for."
Once again, she was nearly certain that he spoke the truth, but she reminded herself that among his many talents was certainly the ability to lie convincingly.
"That's ancient history, Panera," she replied dismissively. "And not worthy of discussion at this point."
"Nevertheless, 'ancient history,' as you put it, colors the presentand the future as well." Then he paused and smiled again. His sudden shifts of mood were disorientingperhaps intentionally so.
"Since we're going to be spending a great deal of time together, do you think we could settle on given names?"
"Very wellMiklos." How she wished that his smile didn't have such a devastating effect on her. And she feared that he knew it too.
"Tell me about your family."
"They're landsmen," she replied. "They own seven thousand acres of prime farmland and several large mines in the Far West, where they mine gold and grow a variety of crops and raise livestock. My mother is also a leading breeder of Madri horses."
"Madris? They're beautiful animals. I've seen them a few times when I've been on Tevingi. It's a pity that your people won't allow them to be exported."
"They're sacred among my people. In our legends, they were the horses of the gods. To this day, they choose their riders, instead of the other way around."
Jalissa smiled at the memory of galloping across the meadows on her Madri, awaiting that moment when it would unfold its great wings and soar into the sky. She'd lived on Tevingi for only two years, but the memory of those times remained sharp and clear.
"Would a Vantran be acceptable to them?" he asked, breaking into her reverie.
"I'm not sure. Off-worlders have ridden them, but not often. I think that part of the reason is that the Madris can sense the fear off-worlders usually have of horses that can fly."
He nodded. "To most people, that would mean giving up too much control."
She was surprised at his perceptiveness, but said nothing. Instead, she remarked that they'd scarcely have time to ride in any event.
"We'll make timethat is, if you're willing to take me there. I'm a firm believer in mixing pleasure with business whenever possible. Our troublemaker will probably lie low for a while after the episode on Darebi, where he came quite close to being caught. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"One eachbut they're both off-world. My brother is on Stada, where he works in my uncle's business, and my sister is at the artists' colony on Celos."
"Then your parents should be happy to have you visit."
They would be, Jalissa knew. And even though they weren't her real parents, she felt as though they were. At times, she had trouble conjuring up an image of her true parents, with whom she'd spent little time in any event. Coven children were raised together, by those who had a particular affinity for working with them. Jalissa had been shocked to discover that on Tevingi, parents and children actually lived together.
The conversation continued in the same casual vein, but she knew what he was really doing: probing to see who she knew and how much information she could be expected to provide. He certainly knew that he'd get only minimal cooperation from the Tevingian government.
She wondered if it could possibly be true that there was a conspiracy to form an alliance with the Outer Ring worlds and leave the Federation. If so, her adopted family would certainly know about it. Her adopted father was a powerful man, and his older brother was one of the richest men in the galaxy.
Not that she'd ever tell Panera if such a conspiracy did exist. But she was troubled by the thought because she'd never before faced the question of her own loyalty to the Federation. It was simply a fact of life.
When she finally grew tired of answering his questions, she announced her intention of going to the comm room to study up on the Outer Ring worlds. There was definitely a limit to her ability to withstand the onslaught of Miklos Panera's powerful presence.
Miklos watched her leave, and then realized that her image still remained. What was that elusive quality about her that so attracted him? He'd never understood it. Like most Vantrans, his standards of beauty were based on his own race. But Jalissa Kendor, exotic with her black hair and pale skin and dark eyes, seemed to have created a different standard in his mind.
He thought back to that incident on Temok eight years ago, when he'd first laid eyes on Jalissa Kendor. She was a novice then, innocently caught up in a battle that shouldn't have happenedand wouldn't have happened if he'd gotten there sooner.
The moment he'd spotted her, he'd known who she must be. Reports had already reached them of a Tevingian novice who was showing great promise. The Special Agency kept close tabs on the Whisperers, and particularly on those who came from Tevingi.
He'd arrived by hovercraft, and was standing on a hilltop overlooking the wild, rugged terrain where two ancient enemies were battling over essentially worthless territory. They shouldn't have had lasers, but somehow they did. And Jalissa Kendor was lost in the no-man's-land that was about to become a killing field.
As he'd watched from his place of safety, she'd started back toward one enemy line. From his vantage point, he could see that within moments, she'd be in range of the weapons.
Recalling it now, he still wondered what had possessed him to take action. The loss of a particularly promising Whisperer was something the Special Agency would cheerespecially when no blame could accrue to the Agency for her death. He had only to let the inevitable happen.
But instead, he found himself scrambling down the steep hillside toward her. And when he saw that he couldn't possibly get to her before she wandered into the laser fire, he took out his stunner and fired. He could have called out to her, but he wasn't sure she'd hear him, and even if she did, she might run from him. No Whisperer ever trusted a Special Agentand with good reason.
As soon as she fell, he ran to herand then wasted precious moments as he knelt beside her. To this day, Miklos could not explain what he'd felt then. It was as though, for just a moment, the whole galaxy had ceased to exist. The closest he could come to describing the feeling was to say that it felt as though he'd suddenly come across some exotic creature long believed to be extinct. In those seconds, he felt a sense of wonder and awe that shivered through him and touched something deep inside that had never been touched before
.
Fortunately for them both, he'd come out of his trance or whatever the foolishness had been. He'd carried her back up to the hovercraft, then deposited her in a park hundreds of miles away, where he knew she'd be safe until she regained consciousness.
He'd wanted to keep her with him, but he'd regained his senses enough to know that that was impossible. Federation troops were on their way and he had to direct them, and besides, he knew that no mention of the incident could ever find its way back to headquarters.
Months had passed before Miklos could dismiss that incident from his mind. But he'd finally succeededuntil Paktos had raised the question of her murky origins. And ever since he had, Miklos had been trying to ignore the thought that was whispering through his mind. Could she be a Witch?
Like other Vantrans, Miklos was very uncomfortable with thoughts of the Coven. Defeating the Witches and Warlocks had been a necessity, and destroying them completely had been the only way to achieve victory. The Coven was small, and certainly many more of its members had died in the wars of that time than had perished when his people unleashed their powerful weapon and obliterated the world of the Coven. But he knew, as did all Vantrans, that they had destroyed a unique people: a super-human race whose magic was beyond their understanding.
But had they been destroyed? He'd seen the uneasiness on the faces of those at the briefing as they discussed the possibility that members of the Coven still existed. If their magic had been powerful enough to save them from the Vantrans' ultimate weapon . . .
No, he couldn't accept that. The Coven was gone. To suggest otherwise would force him to think the unthinkable about Jalissa Kendor and that strange moment on the battlefield.
Jalissa lay on the narrow bed, knowing that it was useless to try to sleep until he appeared. She had considered switching to one of the bunks in the crew's quarters, since the crew took turns sleeping, but to do so would be to admit to Miklos Panera that she found his presence disturbing.
