Tal nodded and stepped to the counter, scanning both warders out of long habit. If she was going to present her bare wrist to anyone, she wanted to be certain of their intentions. Satisfied, she rested her arm on the counter and watched as the shorter warder snapped a metal wristband around it. He touched it with a small device, causing the band to glow red. Tal felt the heat and then a slight tightness as the band molded itself to her wrist like a second skin. Beside her, Micah was being fitted with his wristband. As soon as they were done, they stepped back to make room for the rest.
When everyone was banded, Colonel Sedron led them along the counter to a door on the right, then into a corridor and another lift. They dropped down one level, passed through two more sets of doors, and found themselves in a long corridor that stretched off into the distance. One wall was solid; the other—which housed the cells—was transparent. The walls between cells were opaque.
“This is the Level Two detention unit,” Colonel Sedron said. “It currently houses one hundred and thirty-eight men and women, and is at approximately two-thirds capacity. Each cell holds two prisoners. Level Three also contains two-person cells, but the prisoners on Levels Four and Five are kept in isolation. Come, have a look inside.” He gestured toward the cell nearest them.
After some hesitation, Pendar stepped up. “Fahla,” he whispered. “It’s tiny!”
Silmartin and Nilo crowded around him, peering in as Tal said, “It’s not a suite at the local inn. It’s a prison cell.”
Pendar looked back at the cell, a scandalized guilt coloring his emotions. “So anyone can come along and look at them?”
“Yes,” Colonel Sedron said. “Total visual access is required. Most of the criminals in this facility are here precisely because they’re empathically abusive. They can’t be tracked by empathic senses alone, as in aboveground facilities. The warders check on them every tentick while they’re in lockup.”
Nilo and Silmartin were shocked as well. “How long are they in lockup?” Silmartin asked.
“Prisoners on Levels Two and Three are normally allowed to intermix between morn-three and eve-two. Those on Levels Four and Five are allowed out for two hanticks per day, on staggered schedules.”
“But it’s not even mid-four yet,” said Pendar. “Why are they locked up now?”
“Because I’m here,” Tal said.
Pendar looked back in. “It feels so wrong that anyone can just watch them like this. They don’t have any privacy at all. They can’t—oh.” He turned away abruptly, as did Silmartin and Nilo. All three were radiating embarrassment and guilt.
“What’s wrong?” asked Tal, who had a pretty good idea.
Pendar couldn’t even say it, but Silmartin mumbled, “One of them is, uh, using the toilet.”
“Like we aren’t even here,” Nilo added. “But they know we’re here, right? The walls are transparent both ways?”
“Yes,” said Colonel Sedron. “But they’re long accustomed to it.” The boys looked at each other in horror, which increased as the colonel added, “Privacy is something a prisoner leaves outside. They eat together, live together, and shower together, with warders watching. Using a toilet in front of others is not an issue after a while.”
The boys moved away from the cell as if it were poisonous.
“You’re done watching, then?” Micah asked.
“We weren’t watching!” Nilo said too loudly.
“You were until a few pipticks ago. Aren’t you glad you’re on this side of the door?”
Tal smothered a smile. “Thank you for taking so much time to explain, Colonel. However, I do need to get to my business.”
“Of course.” He tapped his earcuff as he led them down the corridor. “Drasseron, meet me at unit two-thirty-eight.”
They passed through another set of doors and into a second, identical corridor that was at right angles to the first. Halfway down, a warder was waiting for them by an empty cell.
“This is where we separate,” Tal told the boys when they arrived in front of the warder. “I have business here. You’ll wait in these two cells.” She had initially arranged for them to be kept separate, but such a punishment now seemed too harsh for Pendar and Silmartin.
“What?” Nilo’s voice cracked. “I’m not going in one of those!”
“Why can’t we wait on Level One?” Pendar asked in shock.
“Because Colonel Sedron doesn’t have spare warders to watch over you for the next half hantick, and you can’t wait alone.”
“What about Colonel Micah?” Nilo was desperate now. “He could watch us.”
Micah crossed his arms over his chest and looked thunderous. “That is not my duty.”
“Since the cells accommodate just two people, we’ll have to split you up,” Tal said. “Pendar, Silmartin, you’re in this one.”
The warder put his palm to the lock, sliding the door open. Both of the boys looked at her in disbelief.
“That was not a request,” she said.
“You’ll come back, right?” Pendar asked.
Tal nodded. “Yes. Now go.”
He gave her one last unhappy look before dropping his head and walking in, followed by Silmartin. The warder locked the door, then moved to the next cell and opened it.
Nilo took a step back. “I don’t want to! You can’t put me in there alone!”
Micah had lost all patience. “Remember, boy, the violent offenders are confined alone. And that’s exactly what you are, violent. A coward who thinks hurting others makes you big. You could very well end up here, so consider this a practice run. Now get in and see how big you feel.”
Tal made a motion to the warder, who took Nilo by the arm and marched him sobbing and squealing to the cell. With the door safely shut, she relaxed. “Fahla, he’s a trial.”
“Yes, and you gave him to me,” Micah said. “Thanks so much.”
“I didn’t give him to you; you took him. Don’t blame me.”
“Or me,” said Gehrain. “I gave you first choice.”
Micah grumbled as Tal turned to the colonel. “Is Donvall ready?”
“He’s been in a saferoom since your arrival.”
“Then let’s see what our informant has to say.”
CHAPTER 69
Smuggler’s revenge
Though Micah had wholeheartedly agreed with Tal’s idea for disciplining those boys—and had quite enjoyed playing his part in it—he was impatient to get to the real point of their trip.
The man waiting for them looked slightly more pleasant than his file image and a great deal more pleasant than the last time Micah had seen him. He well remembered the crooked nose and flat features, and thought with some satisfaction that Tal had probably made that nose a little more crooked herself.
“You’re Lancer Tal?” he asked incredulously as they walked in the small room.
She drew out the single empty chair on the other side of the small table—the only furniture in the room—and sat down. “Yes, I am.”
“Funny, I thought you were taller. Hey, wait a tick.” Donvall looked more closely at her, then sat back with a broad grin. “You were there! Different hair, different eyes, but I’d never forget that little slip who threw me into the air. You’ve got a punch like a dokker’s kick. I never saw it coming.”
“That was the point,” she said dryly.
Micah hid a smile at the “little slip” reference. If Tal hadn’t already decked him once, she’d have wanted to after that.
Donvall sobered. “It never occurred to me that the Lancer herself would grace us with her presence. We weren’t important enough.”
“You were recruiting high empaths. That made you important enough.”
“I knew it! Spawn of a fantenshekken!” He looked up at Micah and Gehrain, who were flanking the door. “Get rid of them. I’m not talking to anyone
but you.”
“They’re my personal guards,” Tal said without taking her eyes off him. “I trust them with my life. If that isn’t good enough for you, then this interview is already over.”
He glared at her, then at Micah, and finally sat back in his chair. “Fine. Let’s just get the ground rules established. I tell you what I know, and you transfer me out of this Fahla-forsaken place, agreed?”
“If your information leads us somewhere, yes. If it’s a waste of my time, then you’ll learn there are worse places than Level Three.”
He raised his hands. “No need for threats. I know what’s down there, and I have no intention of getting a personal look. My information is real.”
“If that’s true, I’ll authorize your transfer. If someone is betraying the trust of their office, I want them.” Tal’s back went stiff. “You must be joking. You’re trying to probe me? How badly do you want out of here?”
Now Micah wanted to deck him. He shifted his weight, drawing Donvall’s eye, and sent him a death glare.
Donvall quickly looked back at Tal. “Just checking to see if you’re telling the truth.”
“And what did you find?”
“Nothing. You’re like one of the walls in here.”
“Then you’ll have to take me at my word. Unlike most of your acquaintances, my word means something to me.”
He gazed at her in silence, then rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. “All right. Here’s the truth. You didn’t get everyone in your raid.”
“I was expecting you to tell me something I didn’t know.”
“Yes, but the one person you didn’t get was my newest member. Don’t you find it interesting that you got every high-level person but one? Why did he escape the net?”
When Tal didn’t answer, he added, “Would you also find it interesting that this individual is the same one who came up with the bright idea of recruiting high empaths?”
Now she leaned forward as well. “Yes, I would find that very interesting.”
He grinned. “I thought you might. His name is Telmurine Hallwell. He was recommended by my associate in the Anti-Corruption Task Force.”
“So you have someone inside the task force.”
“Of course. The moment it was created, I made it my business to buy someone inside it.”
Micah’s anger rose. Donvall spoke as if finding someone corrupt inside that task force was the easiest thing in the world. Sadly, it probably was.
“Who is it?” Tal asked.
“A merchant by the name of Falton Mor. Highly placed, very powerful. He made sure my name never came up in any investigations. So when he recommended Hallwell, I trusted him. And Hallwell had some good ideas. He helped us increase our profits. I wasn’t excited about his idea of recruiting high empaths, but he talked us into it. Very persuasive man, Hallwell. And he was right; they cleared our way through a lot of otherwise expensive hurdles. Our profits went up again.”
“But those same high empaths brought you to the attention of the task force, without Mor having to give them your name.”
“That’s what I think. I’ve been thinking a lot down here. And I think I was set up, very neatly. Hallwell came in, learned the operation, and then tipped off the task force. How did you know we were meeting in the warehouse then?”
“Anonymous tip,” Tal said.
“See, I shekking knew it. That was Hallwell. He was supposed to be at that meeting. I should have known something was wrong when he didn’t show up. He got you to pick up every one of my trusted people, and now he’s back in Whitemoon running my business.”
“How do you know he’s in Whitemoon?”
He looked at her as if she had just admitted to flunking out of fifth-level school. “I may be underground, but I still know what’s going on. That fantenshekken betrayed me. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have been caught, and even if we had been caught, we wouldn’t have ended up here. I want him in the Pit and me out of it.”
His voice had gotten much louder at the end, and he visibly calmed himself before continuing in a lower tone. “Hallwell had powerful friends. He liked to drink his profits, and when he drank, he liked to brag, and when he bragged, he always said the same thing. He said it wasn’t what you knew, but who you knew, and he knew the top people. He said even Mor bowed down to his friends, because they were the ones who made the rules and enforced them.”
“Meaning they’re on the Council,” Tal said.
He nodded. “That’s what I think. That’s why I didn’t want to talk to anyone but you. If they enforce the rules, that means they’re warrior caste. The only people I can talk to here are warrior caste. They’d pass my information up the ranks until it reached one of Hallwell’s friends, at which point the information would vanish, along with me. So for me, the only safe warrior is you. Unless you’re one of Hallwell’s friends, in which case I’m shekked.”
While Micah didn’t have Tal’s ability to empathically determine the man’s honesty, he didn’t think it was necessary. Donvall was driven by rage and fixated on his revenge.
“Is there anything else I should know?” Tal asked.
“Just that you might want to take a second look at what your task force has been doing.” He gave her an unpleasant smile. “Hallwell may have powerful friends, but they didn’t set him up in my business just so he could take all the profits. They’re investors. I’d be curious to know what else they’re investing in.”
“So would I. Anything else?”
“No. If I knew any more names, I’d give them to you. I want these people taken down.”
She nodded. “Well, this might be the only occasion when you and honorable warriors are on the same side. I’ll do my best to take them down, Donvall. You’ll know I succeeded when you get your transfer.”
“Then I wish you every good fortune,” he said.
CHAPTER 70
Small victories
Tal stalked through the corridors with Micah, Gehrain, and Colonel Sedron keeping a respectful distance. She had held her reaction in check until she was out of the saferoom and was now so furious that she could hardly see straight. That someone would pervert the Anti-Corruption Task Force into a vehicle for more efficient law breaking was a betrayal she took personally. The task force was supposed to prevent this kind of dokshin, not promote it! This was a slap in the face not only to her and every honorable warrior and merchant working on that task force, but also to the four Redmoon warriors whose deaths had inspired its creation. Someone was pissing on their memories.
They arrived at the cells where they had left the boys and waited for the warder. Tal was too angry to speak and impatient at the thought of dealing with these children any further. She had much bigger game to hunt.
“Why aren’t you authorized to unlock the cells?” Gehrain asked Colonel Sedron, filling in the uncomfortable silence.
“Because I’m the director, which makes me the most obvious target for a hostage crisis. But if I can’t unlock any cells or the exit doors between levels, then taking me hostage won’t get a prisoner anywhere. I can get in alone, but I can’t get out.”
“Unless they demand a trade,” Micah said.
“That won’t help either. The facility has a no-negotiation policy. I have no value as a hostage, and they know that.”
“What about the warders?”
“They have clearance for only one level. And the lift doors below Level One can only be unlocked by two palms simultaneously.”
The warder came through a door down the hall and quickly joined them, unlocking the cell for Pendar and Silmartin first. The boys stepped out, their moods quiet and subdued. A white-faced Nilo emerged a few pipticks later, walking directly to Tal and looking up at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything I’ve done. This place is horrible. No one should have to live in
a cell like that! I promise I’ll be better. Just…please take me home.”
Tal stared at him, trying to work past her anger and remember that this was an important moment in its own small way. She had set up their temporary incarceration hoping for just this response. But the best she could manage was a curt nod and a brusque, “That’s good enough. We’re leaving now.”
The warder accompanied them to the lift doors and palmed the lock on the left while Colonel Sedron palmed the right. They trooped inside and crowded together far too closely for Tal’s liking. All she wanted was to get back in the transport and away from everyone else. Fortunately, the boys were subdued as the group returned to the main administrative room, had their wristbands removed, and retraced their steps to the surface.
Their silence ended when the final set of doors opened. As soon as Nilo saw the sky, he whooped and scrambled up the steps, followed closely by Pendar and Silmartin. All three of them bounced off the final step as if they had just been reprieved from a lifetime sentence. Tal and the others climbed the stairs more sedately, but as the first cool breeze brushed Tal’s face, carrying the peppery scent of desert tinbrush, she understood how the boys felt. Nothing made one appreciate sunlight and fresh air quite like being without.
Colonel Sedron stopped near the transport and gave Tal a salute. “It has been an honor to have you at our facility. If there’s anything else I can do, please notify me.”
“I will, thank you. And I appreciate the time you’ve taken today, Colonel. Rest assured it was worthwhile.”
When she boarded the transport, Thornlan was waiting. The pilot saw her mood in an instant and said, “If you’d like to have a seat in your private cabin, I’ll help harness the boys.”
Gratefully, Tal retreated to her much-needed solitude. A few ticks later Thornlan notified her by com that they were ready for liftoff, and she watched the dry scrubland of Koneza fall away beneath them.
For half the flight home she stared out the window, seeing very little as her brain churned. Telmurine Hallwell and Falton Mor would be easy to pick up, and she would take great pleasure in breaking the Whitemoon smuggling ring a second and hopefully final time. But they weren’t the big game, and she was driving herself insane trying to guess who was. Which warrior on the Council was betraying every ideal of the Truth and the Path? Was it only one, or were there more? Did Prime Warrior Shantu have any clue? She pondered that thought for a while before deciding that he could not. For all his flaws, and he had quite a few, Shantu would never condone or tolerate such a violation of everything their caste stood for. He was a proud warrior, and whoever was doing this had far more greed than pride. But by the same token, she couldn’t bring him in on her investigation. Shantu didn’t have the finesse required to do this quietly; he would be more likely to go on a rampage after getting impatient with the pace of their progress. No, she needed someone who understood the value of restraint and dealmaking, someone willing to let the small prey lead her to the big predators. And that would be Colonel Razine. As head of the Alsean Investigative Force, she had the necessary resources at her fingertips, the ability to make discreet inquiries, and Tal’s trust. She had known Razine since they were in the same training unit.
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