Without a Front

by Fletcher DeLancey

  A lump appeared in her throat. That offering was for her. Micah had lit an entire bowl rack in thanks to Fahla for sending her tyree.

  She straightened her spine, brought her fist to her chest with a thump, and returned his salute. It was a breach of tradition that left Micah blinking, but she knew it was the right thing to do. She was not Lancer here; she and Micah were equal in the eyes of Fahla. And he was more deserving of her respect than anyone else on the planet, save one special person.

  Then she smiled, realizing that with the precedent he had set, her own hand was forced. She couldn’t just light a bowl or two now. If Micah had lit an entire rack in her name, then how could she, the actual recipient of Fahla’s gift, offer any less?

  It was a good thing she had planned a large offering.

  She walked to the bowl rack nearest the molwyn tree, slipped in her credit chip, and gave enough to unlock the whole rack. When it was completely alight, she moved on to the next. Several ticks later, five bowl racks ringing the center of the temple were burning so brightly that the molwyn tree glowed in the light of the flames.

  She stepped onto the wooden deck surrounding the tree and walked beneath the branches. At the very center of the temple, she laid her palm on the molwyn’s trunk and gazed up at the silvery undersides of the leaves. If she concentrated, she could actually feel the life pulsing beneath her hand.

  “I know I don’t come here often,” she said quietly. “And I’ve always thought you understood why. I see you more easily in what you created than I do in these temples, and the only place that feels right to me inside this dome is here. This tree carries your spark. It’s closer to you than anything else in this building.” She paused, looking at her hand in puzzlement. Was it her imagination, or was the bark under her palm growing warm? No, it had to be her own body heat. She looked up again.

  “I wish there was something I could say to convey how grateful I am. But I don’t think I need to. You must know. You’ve given me my dream, and though I admit to…well, to questioning your choice, I understand now why you made it. Salomen is unique in so many ways. She sees the world through different eyes, and I see differently through her. I always thought what I wanted most was someone to love me for who I really am, but I think…I think she loves me not just for that, but for who she knows I can be. And I want to be that person. I want to be her dream as well. So I guess I’m here not just to thank you, but to ask for your help. Please, help me get this right. I don’t know what I’m doing. I trained all my life to be a good Lancer, but there’s no training for this. I just…”

  She stopped as a vision of Salomen came to mind, her eyes crinkling as she laughed at something. Tal smiled at the image. “Yes. That’s what I want. I want to know that she’s happy because of me. She’s spent her whole life suppressing who she is. She deserves her own happiness. Help me give that to her, please.”

  She let her arm drop, absently rubbing her fingers on her palm, then frowned and opened her hand.

  The skin was red where it had touched the molwyn.

  Rational explanations flitted through her mind: allergy, microsplinters, even the possibility of poison. Any of those should have warned her off touching the tree again, but she couldn’t help herself. Her arms lifted almost of their own volition.

  The wood felt cool, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she stopped breathing altogether as warmth surged through her palms.

  “Holy shek,” she whispered. Pulling back was ineffective; her hands seemed fused to the wood. Strangely, she felt no fear and instead watched with fascination as the heat in her hands increased exponentially. They were burning now, so hot that she should have been on her knees from the agony, but there was no pain at all. The burning increased even more, and Tal’s jaw dropped as her hands began to glow red. It was as if they were on fire from the inside, lighting up her veins…and for just a piptick she could see her own bones.

  She blinked. It was all gone. The tree was cool; her hands looked like they did every day. She stepped back and held them in front of her eyes, checking for any sign of what had just happened. Other than a pronounced trembling, they were perfectly normal. Looking around, she saw that the flames in her bowls were burning well below the level of the rim. But that made no sense; they had been full when she lit them.

  For some time she stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened. That Fahla had given her a direct message, she had no doubt. But what did it mean? No matter how she examined it, she came no closer to a solution. The only thing she knew for sure was that it was about Salomen.

  She looked at the tree one last time before shaking her head and turning toward the exit. Micah was waiting.

  “About time,” he said as she walked up. “If I’d known you had that much to say to Fahla, I would have brought something to eat.”

  “Micah, how long have we been here?”

  He looked at her oddly. “Almost a hantick. Why?”

  She walked past him without answering. A hantick. She would have said it was perhaps a quarter of that.

  Micah caught up with her at the bottom of the steps, and they strode down the gravel path in silence. When it joined the larger path circling the temple, he asked, “Did something happen?”

  She nodded.

  “Did she…did she speak to you?”

  “No.”

  “Well then, what happened?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure. But…I think she gave me a sign.”

  “A sign! What was it?”

  They walked all the way back to the inner gate of the temple grounds before she answered him. “I don’t know how to interpret it,” she said slowly. “But my hands…they burned where they touched the molwyn tree. Except it didn’t burn; it was just hot. They were glowing, Micah. So hot that I could see right through to the bone. And then it stopped and the bark was cool again. I thought the whole thing had lasted maybe a few ticks, but when I looked at my oil bowls, they were burned down too far for it to have been that short a time. I have no idea what that was.”

  “Nor do I. But there is no doubt that she was telling you something.” His voice was hushed with awe.

  She stopped. “You believe me?”

  “Of course. Why would I not?”

  “Because I hardly believe it myself.”

  He smiled. “That’s because you’ve never believed in anything you couldn’t define. Fahla is beyond definition.”

  “Now that I believe.” She resumed their walk. “Has anything like that ever happened to you?”

  “Once, though my experience wasn’t quite so spectacular. I must say, Fahla certainly favors you. You walk in her temple once every few cycles and she gives you a sign. It must have been those five bowl racks—that was quite a sight.”

  “Can you tell me about your sign?” She felt his instant discomfort and added, “No, that’s personal. Forget I asked.”

  “No. I asked you; I cannot repay your confidence with silence.”

  “Micah—” She stopped when he held up a hand, and they walked several steps before he spoke again.

  “My experience happened many cycles ago,” he said quietly, “when I was a much younger man. I went to the Redmoon Temple for help during a particularly difficult time. I was having some personal issues and could see no way out without losing two of the most important people in my life. And while I stood there in front of my bowls, Fahla sent me a vision. She showed me that loss was unavoidable; that it was nothing I could control, but that through loss I could gain. It was many cycles before I truly understood that vision. Perhaps you will simply have to wait before her sign becomes clear to you.”

  “It seems to be a lesson she teaches often,” Tal said. “I lost the first woman I ever loved, but through that loss I gained so much more. My experience with Ekatya changed me in ways that left me open for Salomen. I think it had to happen t
hat way.”

  He nodded. “I’ve certainly railed at Fahla as much as the next Alsean, but beneath it I have always understood that her job is only to give us the tools we need. It’s our responsibility to pick up those tools and make something with them.”

  They had arrived at the enormous archway that marked the entrance to the temple grounds. A small transport waited to take them back to Whitemoon Base, where they would board her long-distance transport and leave the southern continent behind. Tal turned to look back one last time. Sonalia was well above the horizon now and nearly full, its light adding to the natural glow of the temple dome in a blaze of white that could be seen for tens of lengths.

  “Such a beautiful place,” she said. “I can think of only one thing that could add to this scene.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A red moon.”

  Micah nodded. “Perhaps we should return then, when the moon is red.”

  “Perhaps we should. And perhaps I’ll bring someone with me.” She turned away with regret. “Micah?”

  “Hm?”

  “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER 61

  Prisoner request

  Despite her best intentions, Tal didn’t go to Hol-Opah the next morning. Her presence in the State House had resulted in a veritable line of people seeking an audience with her, and since she had been so rarely available over the past three ninedays, she couldn’t justify leaving without giving them her time. Besides, she could often get a great deal done in a quick face-to-face meeting. Vidcom calls and messages could accomplish only so much; a personal encounter often took care of more business in less time.

  After meeting with twelve different Councilors and seven advisors, she sighed in relief to see Aldirk walking into her office. “That’s it, then? You’re the last one?”

  “As always.” Aldirk sat down, reader card in hand. “May I first extend my congratulations on an extremely effective speaking tour. Particularly your devastating use of a small child to trivialize the economist coalition.”

  He was radiating…mirth. Tal couldn’t recall the last time she had felt that from her always-serious chief counselor.

  “Most of the news outlets thought that was a gift from Fahla herself,” Aldirk continued. “The coverage was more than thorough—I doubt there’s an Alsean alive today who hasn’t heard about the economists who weren’t good enough.” He closed his eyes and laughed quietly. “Ah, that was the highlight of this cycle. Well done, Lancer Tal. Well done.”

  “Thank you.” Tal was still recovering from the sight of Aldirk laughing. “I wish it hadn’t been necessary, but the demonstrators in Blacksun and Redmoon convinced me that I had to hit back a little more firmly.”

  “Indeed you did.” Aldirk was all business again and began going down his list. It seemed to have no end, and Tal gave up on getting to Hol-Opah by evenmeal.

  Nearly a hantick passed before Aldirk announced that he had reached the final entry. “A prisoner in the Pit has requested an audience with you.”

  “And this is important because…?” Not a moon went by without a prisoner in the Pit asking for an audience. Incarceration there often meant the prisoner was beyond any option of release other than a state pardon, which only Tal could give. She hadn’t given many of them.

  “Because this particular prisoner was the ringleader in the Whitemoon smuggling case. He has informed the prison guards that we did not capture the most powerful person involved.”

  “And he’s willing to trade his information for a pardon? Absolutely not.”

  “He didn’t ask for a pardon, merely a transfer to an aboveground facility.” Aldirk paused. “He indicated that his information might lead us to a highly placed individual. Lancer Tal, if our investigation left the most responsible person free, we have an obligation to pursue this. Other high empaths may be at risk of recruitment.”

  Tal sighed. “Call Colonel Razine and have her send one of her investigators to speak with the prisoner. If his information plays out, I’ll authorize a transfer.”

  “If it were possible to delegate this, I would have already done so. The prisoner will speak with no one but you.”

  “Why?”

  Aldirk looked troubled. “He states that the responsible party is too powerful and will suppress his information if it’s given to anyone else.”

  The office was dead silent. At last Tal said, “He’s going to point to a Councilor. It would take that level of power to control an AIF investigation. Which means it’s almost certainly a warrior, since criminal investigations are our caste responsibility.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of as well.”

  “Spawn of a fantenshekken!” Tal stood abruptly, pushing back her chair. “This is the last thing we need! I’ve just spent three days rebuilding the people’s trust in this government; a corruption case reaching all the way to the Council will undermine everything. Dammit, why now?”

  “Better now than never,” Aldirk said. “If we have a corrupt Councilor, then he or she must be found and removed immediately.”

  “Is that prisoner in a protection cell?”

  Aldirk checked his notes. “Yes, he was placed there two days ago.”

  “Good. Make the preparations and inform Colonel Micah. Send me all the records on our informant. I’ll go to the Pit tomorrow after midmeal.”

  “May I assume that you will be staying in Blacksun tonight, then?”

  “You may not. If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving for Granelle.”

  “Lancer Tal, may I remind you that there have been demonstrations against you and one actual attack. Until we know for sure that your safety is not in jeopardy, it would be wiser for you to stay here.”

  “That wasn’t an attack. Really, an old woman trying to throw a picture frame at me? As for the demonstrations, one of them was right here. I’m probably safer in Granelle.”

  With a sigh that was clearly meant to be heard, Aldirk made a note on his reader card and slipped it in its case. “Very well. I’ll tell First Pilot Thornlan to prepare your long-distance transport tomorrow morning.”

  “Poor Thornlan.” Tal shook her head. “She just got home.”

  “So did you.”

  Not quite yet, she thought.

  CHAPTER 62

  Alliance honored

  “Aldirk isn’t happy,” Tal said as she made a tiny course adjustment. She and Micah were in her personal transport, less than five ticks away from Hol-Opah, and her yearning was growing stronger the closer she got.

  “What else is new?” Micah asked. “Let me guess. He’s not happy about you returning to ‘that useless little farm.’”

  Tal chuckled. “Well, he didn’t put it quite that way. This time. But he made it clear that he thinks I should stay in Blacksun.”

  “I must admit, I’d be a great deal more comfortable if you did. I can protect you far better at Blacksun Base. But it would be a strategic mistake to retreat.”

  “And it would send a very poor message. If I’m seen as afraid to go out among the people, it would bring everything I’ve been saying into question. Besides, I’m not in the habit of letting a tiny fraction of the population dictate my actions.”

  “You’re not in the habit of letting anyone dictate your actions.”

  “That’s not true.” She glanced at him. “I listen to you. On occasion.”

  He snorted. “‘On occasion’ being the operative phrase.”

  “Now, Micah, you know how much I value your professional advice.” She waited for him to take the bait.

  “Good. Then you will value the fact that I’ve doubled your guard.”

  “You what! You added ten Guards? Where in Fahla’s name will Salomen put them? Did you tell her? Damn, she’s going to be—”

  “—pleased that I’m taking proper precautions to keep you safe,” Micah f
inished. “I already called and informed her. The new Guards will fit in the current barracks with a little rearranging of cots. I sent them over along with the additional food and supplies this morning.”

  Tal deflated. “Oh. Then I’d better know the details. Who did you send?”

  By the time Micah had gone through his list of Guards and explained their duty rotation, Tal was landing the transport behind the house. They had a welcoming committee of three Guards and the entire Opah family, which put a permanent smile on Tal’s face. This was a new and very pleasant feeling.

  Salomen ran up to her as soon as she emerged from the transport. For a moment Tal thought she was going to give her a warmron in front of everyone, but she stopped short and held up her palm.

  Tal met it and interlaced their fingers. “It’s so good to see you. Sorry we arrived so late; there was a lot to attend to at the State House.”

  “I care only that you’re here now. Fahla, but I missed you. We have so much to talk about.” With an abrupt shift in her emotions, Salomen added, “We had an…event here while you were gone. Please don’t be upset when you hear about it. I didn’t want to tell you while you had so much else to think about.”

  “What happened?”

  “Later.” Salomen let go of her hand to reach for Micah.

  “Well met,” Micah said. “Did we make it in time for evenmeal?”

  Salomen smiled. “And this is your first thought after nearly four days away?”

  “True warriors think with their stomachs. Mine is rumbling.”

  “Then you’ll be happy to know we waited for you. Let’s feed the monsters in those bellies.”

  Tal and Micah turned to greet the rest of the family, touching palms with Shikal first, as was his due, then his sons. The welcome Tal felt from Salomen, Shikal, and Nikin brought back pleasant memories of coming home to her parents. Then she touched palms with Herot, and the sizzle of anger emanating from him drove out all prior warmth.