by Jo Zebedee
Rjala had even gone so far as to describe Kare as “an inconvenience” in a cold voice that had made Sonly shudder: every great family who hoped to challenge for the empire, should the Empress die, would think so too. As for the Empress…. The last time the Empress had known where her children were, she’d attacked the base so many times, she’d almost brought the Banned to their knees.
She closed her eyes, remembering the terror of the base evacuations of her youth, the alarms blaring as her mother ran to the port, Sonly's hand clasped in hers, Lichio carried in her arms. How they’d been bundled onto transporters and made to wait, lights dimmed, never sure if they’d be forced into space, or if the Banned fighters would fight the attack off.
Please let it not come to that again. She hugged her legs to her chest. Because, one way or another, Kare was staying with the Banned– Michael had said that he was better with them than his mother, and as head of the board his decision was binding. At least here, the damage could be limited. An heir floating around the Outer Zone systems, waiting to be picked up, would be worse. And then Michael had spent yesterday making notes on how to use Kare’s presence to align the Tortdeniel family with the Banned. He’d even talked about letting her come to the meeting with their ambassador, giving her the additional experience she needed to run for election to the board.
The door to the base opened and Lichio emerged, taking off his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder. He walked over, limber and graceful like a cat, spread his jacket out, and dropped easily onto it.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “You’re not working?”
“I’m taking ten minutes off to see you. Did you see Rjala?”
“Ten minutes; I’m honoured. Yes, I’ve just left her.”
“And…?” She knew, of course– she’d put through the requisition for his lieutenant’s insignia– but he deserved his moment of attention. He had little enough, following Eevan who’d made captain by the time he was eighteen and major at twenty-six. The Banned brought people on early, of course: school lessons were interspersed with the playing of war games and training for base evacuations. The knowledge of their rebel status was a source of pride, many joining the army on the day of their thirteenth birthday. But Eevan had come through quicker than most, leaving Lichio looking second-best, even though his own career was hardly lacking.
He smiled, his eyes shining. “I’m getting my first field post and a promotion. It’s a small campaign, but even so…” He sobered a little. “Although I’ll have to tell our dear brother he’ll need to get another mentor to do his dirty work for him.”
She found herself smiling, despite herself. Putting Lichio onto watching Kare had been a typical Eevan move– dirty, but at a distance, so his hands were clean.
“That’s brilliant, Lich,” she said. A group of kids wearing identical baseball hats walked past them and down the jungle path. Their teacher yelled for them to stay on the path. Jungle skills, she guessed, or just a bug hunt. “What about Angela– won’t she miss you?”
His face screwed up. “It’s possibly not bad timing on that front, either.” He paused. “There was the small matter of her finding out about Gina...”
She swatted a hornet away, its red stripes a warning of danger, and it droned off, towards the denser jungle. “You never learn.”
Lichio propped himself on one arm. “They’ll get over it. I’m surprised at the promotion; I’m not sure what I did to deserve it– ”
“You probably didn’t do anything.” She laughed. That was another reason he hadn’t matched Eevan’s progress; he understood the army wasn’t all there was to life. “They can’t put you in the field as less than an officer, given your heritage. You’d have been chucked in as a private otherwise.”
“Urgh, don’t.”
“So where is the posting?”
“Ah, that’s the only downside. It’s on Corun, in the Tauric system, the back end of nowhere….”
“Stop it,” she said. “It can’t be that bad.” But the Tauric system had never been fully invested in, leaving planets not fully terraformed, or habitable but without access to the technology the better populated systems had. Any post there would be hard-earned field duty stripes.
“Trust me, it is.”
She pulled a strand of creeper-flower, tight in to the grass, so that it unravelled and ripped. If Lichio was going off-base, she wouldn’t get a chance to pick his brains again and it would be useful knowing more about Kare, given the politics building around him.
“Lichio,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual. “What’s our new arrival like?”
He wasn’t fooled, but then Lichio never was, and he sent her a sly smile. “Why?”
She should have known he’d make her say what she wanted, so she couldn’t deny it. “Just… it would be good to know what way he thinks. If he’s going to stay with the Banned, we need to understand him.”
Lichio tutted. “Bad, Sonly– he’s a person, not a toy.” He grinned. “But, yeah, okay. He’s a bit of an asshole, if you have to know. Got caught using his powers on the training ground. But I’ve met worse.”
To hell with it. Lichio could dance around hinted questions all day. She faced him: better just to ask openly. “Is he Emperor material?”
“Hard to know. He hasn't been here long. He fled his previous planet, leaving a hell of a mess and half the security in the middle-zone looking for him. I doubt if anyone would look like a future Emperor given all that.”
“You don’t go for a few weeks, do you?” she asked.
He glanced at her, a slight smile on his face. He knew what she was up to. “No. Why?”
“It would be good to know more,” she said. Everyone else on the board had access to the information she needed– how was she supposed to run a campaign, being the only candidate who didn’t have it? “Please, Lich. You know how much I want to get in.” She paused, priming him for the killer blow. “And if I do, think how much it will annoy Eevan.”
“Playing dirty, eh?” He grinned, though. “You got me. What do you want to know?”
“Everything. His powers, what he can do, what he thinks about things, what he wants from us– ”
“The colour of his underwear?” Lichio raised his eyebrows at her. She blushed, cursing herself for it, and he laughed. “Black.”
“What?”
He grinned. “His underwear: it’s black.”
“You looked!”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course I didn’t look– what do you take me for? I have some standards. The guy turned up without a change of clothes…”
“Of course, it’s all army requisitions.” It was hard to imagine the heir to the empire turning up as so many did at the Banned, owning nothing to his name. “Clever Lichio.”
He got up and lifted his jacket. “I better go, then, start my mission.” He wiggled his fingers as if he was a magician. “See if he’s actually managed to complete training for today. In fact, there’s your first bit of intel.” He smirked. “Whatever powers he might have, he’s a truly crap soldier.”
She got up too, brushing herself off. It was getting hotter. She glanced at the practice ground, remembering her own basic in the blistering heat, and it was hard not to feel sorry for the recruits.
“Be careful,” said Lichio, his voice low and serious. “When I’m away– Eevan is still here; watch yourself.”
She drew her shoulders back, acting braver than she felt. “I can deal with Eevan, you know that. He might think he’s Dad’s equal and should lead the group; I don’t. I need to get back to work, Lich.”
“That’s two of us.” He grinned. “Agent one, at your service.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Dismissed!” said Stitt.
Kare sat on the grass, the sunshine pounding on his back, and drank some water. He passed the bottle to Silom, who took a long drink and passed it back for Kare to tip the remainder over his head. It ran through
his crew cut and down his face and gave some relief, but he knew from experience it would be temporary.
“I’m knackered,” said Silom.
Kare looked up at the sky; it was getting late and the heat should fall soon. It still astonished him, how quickly it changed from day to night here. “At least you haven’t had extra duties. I never knew I could be so tired and still move.” Not just move– run, take obstacle courses, do weaponry drills.
“Spare me– you brought it on yourself.”
Kare looked over and saw Captain Stitt watching him. “More of Stitt’s shit coming up,” he said, and stood before she had the pleasure of summoning him. At least it was the last day of his two weeks. “Save me some food.”
He started to pick up the equipment the squad had left out. He wasn’t aching the way he had every other day. Perhaps he was getting used to the work.
“Varnon,” said Stitt.
“Ma’am.” He straightened.
“Put your backpack on,” she said. He did and it settled across his shoulders, comfortable for now. She nodded at the trail round the base. “Twice.”
He opened his mouth, wanting to protest. Twice was a six mile run, and he’d been on the training ground since early morning. Stitt stared at him, and he knew she was waiting for him to admit he was too tired.
“Yes, ma'am.”
He set off, knowing the rest of the recruits were watching him, and ducked under a branch to join the trail, his boots hitting the ground, steady and sure. He hated this, absolutely hated it. The jungle was dense around him, the path beaten though it, and there were occasional flashes of bold reds and yellows as he disturbed the ever-present parakeets. They squawked as he passed, warning each other. He kept going and only realised he’d reached the practice ground when the foliage opened out. The other squaddies were gone. He stopped and lifted a bottle of water, taking a drink, and saw Stitt watching him from the edge of the jungle path. The shadows had lengthened as the day fell towards evening.
“Sooner you get on with it, sooner you’re done. Or are you too crap to finish?” she said.
Kare shook his head, panting. He shrugged, shifting the backpack– it seemed to have doubled in weight– and crossed to the jungle path. It was darker under the canopy, the daylight fading, and his feet were less sure, stumbling with tiredness, every step draining him further.
He stopped for a moment to get his breath. Glancing back, he knew Stitt was too far away to sense if he used his psyche to make his legs less tired. Take the weight of the backpack. The jungle was quiet around him, the birds roosting, any emerging night animals waiting for him to move on. No one would know. He paused, on the verge of using it–
He would know. Worse, he’d never know if he could have completed the run without resorting to his power. It had never seemed important before now– his powers were a part of him the way his eyes were, or the birthmark on the back of his ankle. But over the past weeks, as he’d got used to not relying on them as often, he’d found himself wondering how much of who he was lay with them, and how much came from somewhere deeper, somewhere close to the centre of him. Somewhere more honest.
He started to jog again. Dim lights from the road running between the base and barracks punctured the shadows from time to time. He was utterly drained, hungry and thirsty, his shoulders aching, but he concentrated on each step, each single step, one after the other, on and on through the jungle.
The path evened out as he reached the practice ground. He shrugged the pack off and leaned forward, hands on his knees. The ground swam under him, and for a moment he was sure he’d either pass out or throw up, but his vision cleared. He took a deep breath and straightened. Stitt stepped out of the darkness and handed him a bottle of water which he took and drank deeply from.
“I don’t want a repeat of your cheating,” she told him.
Kare nodded and wiped his mouth. “Ma’am.” His voice was small, but he didn’t care. Frankly, it was a miracle he had the strength to speak.
“Put away your pack. Consider yourself dismissed.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
He saluted and she left him to take his pack to the shelter and set it with the others before making his way to the empty dorm. He smiled when he saw a sandwich sitting on his bunk. He’d have to thank Silom later.
He sank onto the bed and picked up the sandwich. A note sat on his pillow– IN REC-ROOM– but he was too tired to get up again. Instead, he finished the sandwich and lay back. He had no idea how long he slept, but when he woke, the room was dark. At the sound of the other recruits returning, he turned onto his side. Someone kicked the end of his bunk and hands grabbed him, pulling him from his bed, ripping sleep away.
He tried to get away, but whoever it was held him firmly. He twisted, but it made no difference. He went to flex his power, but remembered Eevan’s warning– using it against a person was bound to mean more than a couple of weeks washing floors. His head was pulled back. He tried not to show how scared he was, but could hear his harsh breaths and knew his attackers would, too.
A fist hit his stomach, forcing the breath from him. Someone else backhanded his face, cracking his nose, and he cried out at the pain. The hands holding him let go and he crashed to the ground. He tried to crawl to the corridor, but a kick sent him sprawling. The shadow of another boot came at him, and when it impacted with his chest there was another crack and a spear of pain. He screamed, hoping someone– anyone– was in the barracks and could hear him. He rolled into a ball, protecting his head. More kicks came, on the small of his back and across his shoulders. Blood ran down his throat, choking him. “Stop,” he pleaded, the word muffled. Another kick. Another. Each thud was just a spark of pain, distant now.
“Enough,” said a new voice. “Leave him alone.”
The boots stopped kicking.
“Fuck off, Dester,” said one of the voices.
“You fuck off, Ashe. You’ve made your point. Now leave him alone.” There was a pause. “Unless you want to take me on, instead. I’m up for it, come on ahead.”
Kare lay, not sure he’d be able to move, and wondered what was broken. His nose, definitely, and his ribs.
“Not tonight, Dester.”
Silom laughed. “You haven’t the balls to face someone your own size. Piss off, then.”
The boots left and arms under Kare's shoulders pulled him to a sitting position, and leaned him against the wall. Silom’s face blurred in and out. From him came joint waves of concern and anger. Anger, not just at the attackers but at Kare, for bringing more trouble onto himself.
“We need to get you to the doc,” said Silom.
“Wait,” croaked Kare.
“For what? Them to get a few mates and finish the job?” Silom reached up and turned on the light over Kare’s bed. He crossed his arms, appraising. “You’re in a right mess.”
“I can fix it,” Kare said. Silom's unspoken thoughts were right. This would bring more trouble, either from the recruits, or the Banned thinking he was divisive, that even in barracks he was a trouble-maker. He couldn’t afford to give a reason to get rid of him. Sweat broke out across his brow as he focused on his ribs, fusing them. The pain worsened as they shifted, but he forced himself to keep going, taking his time; if he didn’t get it right, they’d stay out of shape. A long groan left him as they straightened. He swallowed against a wave of nausea.
“You need a doctor,” said Silom. Kare couldn’t answer him, but he shook his head. The pain in his chest eased, and he was able to breathe.
He took a deep breath and thought about how his nose should look, dreading what he had to do. He started to straighten the bones. They crunched and ground against each other, bringing tears to his eyes.
“That’s gruesome,” Silom said. His voice sounded like it was far away.
“It’s fucking agony,” Kare gasped. If Karia had been here she’d have fixed it in seconds. He half expected her to appear, but she didn’t– that
part of returning to base seemed to have stopped. He braced himself for one last effort, clenching his fists and, teeth gritted, forced his nose straighter until the pain ended.
“It’s not straight,” Silom said.
“How bad is it?”
“It’s okay. Makes you look tough.”
“Tough’s good.” He couldn’t face any more, not tonight. “Can you help me up?”
Silom held a hand out and Kare pulled himself up with it, onto his bunk. He started to shudder, and even when he wrapped his arms around himself, the shaking didn’t slow. His teeth chattered as he said, “T-thanks, Silom.”
“I noticed one of them checking me out before they left.” His anger seemed to have abated– he sounded more resigned than anything. “I figured I’d see what they were up to.”
“W - Who was it?”
“Ashe, Raj, Tommy and Chang.”
“Why?” asked Kare. Nothing was making any sense to him. “I haven’t said two w-words to them.”
Silom got off his bed, leaned down and touched a blood spot on the floor. He held his finger up. Kare looked at it. That was his blood, and it was all over the floor in huge droplets. He swallowed against the returning nausea.
“I suspect it’s their way of telling you they don’t like you.” Silom stood up. “I’m going to get a cloth.”
Kare sat, looking at the bloodstains, his body aching. He closed his eyes and remembered the hard boots coming for him. At the soft noise of movement, he looked up, expecting to see Silom. Instead, Lichio entered. He looked around the dorm, and then at Kare.
“You’re okay?” he asked.
Kare nodded. Okay? He guessed so. “Yes.”
Lichio came over to where Kare was sitting and looked at the blood on the floor. “I was told you weren’t.”
