by Jo Zebedee
Hands reached out, taking Charl from him, and Kare tried to control the shield so that it shrank but didn’t fail. It didn’t work. His power drained, and the whole thing collapsed. He tried to bring it back, but was too tired. He reached the hatch, but had to stop, dizzy. He put his hand out, bracing against the ship, and looked back at the blurred line of black soldiers, indistinct through his tiredness. They had a clear shot.
“Get in!” shouted Silom, and Kare stumbled backwards, into the ship. “Close the hatch!”
The ship lifted off and he turned his face away from the swirling dust. He heaved the heavy hatch to, struggling with it, and was relieved when Silom reached out and secured it. Kare waited for the light at the door to turn green and pulled his mask off. He coughed a little, the air not quite cleared but breathable.
“Karl!” At Lichio’s shout he turned and hurried down the ship. He took a moment, assessing the wounded. Rawle’s injury looked superficial, but Charl lay still, a laser burn across his whole lower back, through to the muscle and oozing in the middle. Kare put his hand on it, hoping he had enough power left in him.
“Hold him down,” he said. “It’ll hurt.”
He wished he had Karia’s ability to heal quickly and effortlessly. He put his hand on the wound and Charl screamed, trying to writhe away, held down by Lichio and Dane. His pain reached across to Kare, filling his head, making his own back ache. Kare tried to ignore it, but the pangs thudded through him; sometimes it was no fun being an Empath. He gritted his teeth and kept going until the pain eased, and he felt peace fall over the man, the peace of a body sinking into its recovery. He took his hand off, drained, and turned to tell Rawle he could do no more, but the wounded man caught his arm and stopped him.
“Don’t. It’ll heal.”
Relief washed through Kare– he didn’t know if he could face doing it again. It had brought back the memories of the escape from Dignad, when it hadn’t been just one person’s burning pain that had brought him to his knees, but a whole platoon’s. Bile rose in him at the memory.
A hand clapped his shoulder and he turned to see Lichio. “You’ve done enough. Well done.”
Kare looked at the silent faces of the squad. They hadn’t known who he was, or what he could do. He could feel their shock, the residual distrust of a psycher tinging into something unpleasant. He wanted to tell them he hadn’t changed, that he was still the same cack-handed private they’d been working with for months. The image of the dead girl on Corun flashed in front of him. He was the cack-handed private she’d been murdered for. He pushed past the watching soldiers and ran to the toilet.
He stood at the sink and fought the urge to retch the way he had in the shipyard on Dignad ten years before. That day, the last of the debris had burned up and fallen around him, like fireflies in the dying light, and he’d thought it was pretty. It hadn’t been until he realised it was his ship: his home, his sister, his father, that he’d emptied his stomach– his whole self– onto the dry earth. Tonight it was the dead face of the girl that flashed in front of him, cramping him. He splashed water on his face until the cramps eased. Someone came in, but he didn’t turn.
“Are you okay?” Silom’s voice was calm, and he, at least, wasn’t disgusted.
Kare nodded, but doubled over again. He swallowed and got his breath back. “They didn’t shoot at me.”
“You probably didn’t notice. You were focused on the shield, and we were running.”
Kare rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood and pushed through to the main section of the ship, and dropped into a seat. Lichio sat beside him.
“What about the other settlements?” Kare asked.
Lichio shook his head. “The same. I suppose if they came so far, it made sense to finish the job.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, and Kare knew the other man had worked it out.
“They didn’t shoot at me,” he mumbled. “They had a clear shot when I was on the gangway, but they didn’t shoot.”
“I know,” said Lichio. “I saw.”
A whole planet? Kare went to say something to Lichio, and then clamped his mouth shut. He lifted his head enough to see Lichio’s shocked, white face. He knew, too. A whole planet.
CHAPTER TWENTY
A hard shake woke Kare. The transport was quiet, almost empty, and it took a moment to work out where he was.
“We’ve landed,” Lichio said.
Kare sat up and wiped his eyes, surprised he’d slept through a space landing. “Do you have any water?”
Lichio handed him a bottle from his backpack; with a drink, Kare's headache eased a little.
"You okay?" asked Lichio.
“I’m fine." Better than fine: he had two arms, two legs, and a set of lungs that worked– it was more than the people of Corun.
“Rawle and Charl are on their way to the medical centre. You’re booked in, too.”
“Why? I’m okay.”
“I’m your officer, and I want you checked over.”
Kare was too tired to argue. “Okay, sir.”
He got up and followed Lichio from the ship. As they walked to the medical centre, the bright greens of the jungle, contrasting with splashes of red and orange, almost overwhelmed him, blurred one moment, glassine-like the next. A bird shrieked, making his head thud again. He glanced over– why was Lichio with him, and not Charl and Rawle? Even on Corun he’d stayed close. He stopped. “You weren’t just there to lead the platoon.”
“I told you I was there to link back. It also gave me some field experience.”
Kare looked at Lichio for a moment longer, but couldn’t pick up a lie. Lots of other sensations, yes: mild concern, caution, but no lie. His eyes narrowed: Lichio evidently had some knowledge of psychers.
“I’m surprised you wanted the experience, given where it was,” Kare said.
Lichio shrugged. “I might not have been so keen if they’d told me about Corun before I accepted.” He spread his hands. "I was offered the post before you were in the squad. Make of that what you will."
Kare cocked his head to the side, thinking what he knew of the other man: the brat of the family, his older brother the military star, his sister the rising political leader. How do you keep up with that? By befriending a possible future Emperor, even one who didn't want the role? He started to laugh. “Do you think I’m a prize?”
If Lichio was in any way embarrassed, he hid it well. “I don’t know. But I like to keep my options open.”
Kare wanted to warn Lichio it was dangerous to come too close to him. To do that, he’d have to tell him about his dad’s visions. He shook his head: the visions had died with Ealyn; he’d made his own future, and chosen his own path.
“I might not be the prize you want,” he said, and left it at that.
“We’ll see.” They reached the hospital, and Lichio nodded to the doctor waiting. “A full scan, please. Top to bottom. I’ll come, too.”
Kare looked between the doctor and Lichio, realising what was being checked for.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “There was no opportunity to plant anything– it has to have been a security leak.”
“I hope so. It’ll be one of the few times I’m happy for someone to say I told you so.”
The doctor handed Kare a robe. “Get dressed in that, and come through.”
An hour later Kare sat beside Lichio on the edge of a hospital bed, cradling a coffee. In front of them, a screen showed a close up of Kare’s stomach lining and the tracker attached to it. He went to take a sip of coffee but stopped, wondering what they’d planted the tracker in. He set the cup down.
“What do we do?” he asked.
“First, we get it out. After that, it’ll have to go to Colonel Rjala,” said Lichio.
A sinking feeling came, part dread, part resignation. He had to face her sometime, he'd known that from the moment he'd elected to stay in her army. He just wished it w
asn't today, that he'd had more time to think about what he might say to her. “Why not the major?”
“She has the remit for security.”
There was no point arguing; he had no chance of winning. “Fine.”
Lichio looked at Kare. “You have a problem with that?”
“No.” Kare was careful to keep his face impassive. Thankfully, the doctor came back a moment later.
“If you lie back, we’ll get this done now,” he said.
Kare lay down and something cold touched his navel. He stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about what was inside him, his skin tingling, becoming numb.
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” said the doctor. He nodded at Lichio. “You can wait outside, Lieutenant; I don’t need an audience.”
Lichio left, and the doctor turned on the spotlights, making Kare’s eyes smart. He closed them and took a deep breath. His thoughts drifted to Colonel Rjala, bringing a bitter taste into his mouth as he remembered the day his father had been forced from the base. Logically, he knew it had been for the group, but…
They’d had so little, he and Karia. He remembered how jealous he'd been of the le Paynes, with their toys and space to play. The time he’d fought with Eevan it wasn’t because he disliked the other boy, exactly. It was more that he wanted to be him, to have his own room and bed. Anything but their cramped ship, with its freezing cargo bay for a playroom.
A sharp tug in his stomach pulled him out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes, gasping a little. The surgeon appeared in front of the light. “That’s the offender,” he said.
Kare looked up, not able to see the tracker, it was so small. “When?”
“No way of knowing. I’ll have to report this, you know.”
“I think Lieutenant le Payne has that in hand,” he said. “Can I sit up?”
“Yes.”
There was a sharp pain in his stomach when he did. He put his hand on it, healing it, the skin knitting smoothly together.
“Nice talent to have,” said the doctor.
Kare smiled and held out his hand, letting the doctor drop the metal tracker into it. He clenched his fist: it was so small he was scared he’d lose it. “Is it still transmitting?”
“Probably not– they’re programmed to stop once removed.”
“Makes sense. No point chasing my shit around the outer zone…”
There was a discreet knock on the door and a nurse came in, carrying a uniform. Kare looked at it and raised an eyebrow.
“Lieutenant le Payne sent it.”
“Thanks.” Kare waited until the doctor and nurse left, and got dressed. It was the first time he’d worn his full uniform rather than field fatigues, and it was stiff and uncomfortable. He opened the door to find Lichio standing in the corridor, buttoning up his own formal jacket.
“There’s a reason for this?” asked Kare.
“The colonel likes her soldiers to look professional.”
They left the hospital, Kare holding the door for a nurse to pass through, and walked through the base to the military zone. They stopped when a voice called Lichio’s name. Both men turned to see a blonde woman coming towards them: Sonly le Payne.
“You’re back!” she said, and gave her brother a hug. Kare smiled at the change in Lichio. With everyone else he was slightly smug, a bit of a know-it-all, but the hug he gave his sister was genuine. Lichio saw Kare watching them, and pushed Sonly away.
“Just back,” Lichio said. “We’re on our way to see the colonel. There’s been a bit of a security breach.”
“I heard; it’s more than a bit.” She turned to Kare. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. You’re Kare, aren’t you? I remember you from when you were a child.”
“Sonly. It’s nice to meet you again.” She’d been the only person sorry to see them go, he remembered. She’d faced her father, barely to his waist height, and tried to insist he change his mind.
She nodded, and her eyes darkened a little. “I’m so sorry about Karia,” she said. “I think about her a lot. We used to hunt for mice together.”
A shard went through him at the casual way she said it. He remembered her coming back with Karia, both of them carrying mice. That had been during their last normal visit to the Banned, before his dad became ill. They’d been holding the mice against them, sure they were going to die. He remembered how their blonde and brown heads had been close together as they’d whispered about how to get the mice on board. His twin had met his eyes and he’d known he was going to be asked to help. He took a deep breath. “You made me smuggle them in and I got holy hell for it in the end. You know, you’re the first person I’ve met who remembers her.” Or the only one who was prepared to admit to it. His voice was hoarse. “It’s nice; it makes her real.”
She put her hand out, touching his, and her feelings connected with his mind, pushing everything away: Lichio, the base, the meeting with Rjala. Nothing mattered except her. The intensity made him dizzy and he had to pull his arm away. Where had that come from?
She looked confused, but managed a smile. “I’m sorry about Corun.” She looked between him and Lichio. “All those people. You must have known some of them.”
The memory of the little girl flashed in front of Kare. “Yes.”
She reached out, touching him again, and it was like she was burning him, it was so intense. He swallowed, the words he was about to say forgotten, but couldn’t bring himself to look away from her steady eyes. They stood for a moment like that and her eyes were so blue he could drown in them–
He jerked his arm away, breaking the connection. She wanted him for what he could bring the group, nothing else. Even now he could feel, under the concern, coolness like she was assessing everything. She looked down at her hand and then back to him, her eyes full of confusion. Her conflicting emotions of concern and calm consideration thudded through him.
“We should go,” he said. His voice sounded strangled and strange.
Lichio nodded. “We better, Sonly; the colonel is waiting. I’ll drop round later.”
“Fine,” said Sonly, her eyes still fixed on Kare. “Are you okay, it must have been a shock that she’d traced you?”
She seemed so genuine, her eyes meeting his, no guile evident, and he started to wonder if he was wrong– it was almost impossible to fake that sort of emotion. His heart was beating loud and fast and hard–
Something hit his knee, and he looked down to see a ball at his feet.
“Sorry, mister!” said a boy of about seven from down the corridor.
Kare kicked the ball back to him. “No problem.” He turned to Sonly, making sure he didn’t touch her. “I’ll see you again.” He walked away.
“What the hell was that about?” Lichio said, as he caught up.
Kare didn’t answer. A prize. What sort of crap thing was that to be? In his case, the worst sort. One who could suck them all into his dad’s dark dreams, pull them down into the maelstrom ahead. He clenched his fists, wanting to hit out in frustration; he wasn’t even normal enough to spend time sinking into a girl’s eyes.
Lichio caught his arm. “Well?”
“Nothing,” he said. Everything. “Are we nearly there?”
“Another couple of corridors.”
They walked in silence, Kare’s hand clasping the tracker. This was what his mother was capable of: finding him, hunting him, removing anything that stood in the way of getting him.
Lichio stopped and knocked on a door. He stood back and fiddled with his sleeve, and Kare’s stomach jumped. When a calm voice told them to come in, he hung back, letting Lichio go first.
He followed, stopping in front of Colonel Rjala’s desk. What was she was thinking when she looked at him? Did she see the boy she knew, or his dad? He hardly knew what his own thoughts were, flitting from the hideous day she’d forced him from the base to the day he’d returned, when she’d given him a chance. She was glad someone had survived, she’d
said, but did she mean it? He could read nothing from her.
“At ease,” she told them and nodded to the seats opposite. “Did you bring the tracker?”
Kare set it on her desk. She picked it up, looked closely at it, and then turned to Lichio. “Lieutenant, what do you make of this?”
“It had to be planted at the base,” Lichio said. “There’s no way they could have tracked Kare, otherwise. The platoon was isolated and I saw no evidence, at any time, of his identity becoming known.”
“The attack, are you sure it was targeted?”
Lichio paused. “I don’t see how else to view it, ma’am.”
She nodded and turned her attention to Kare. “You agree?”
“Yes.” He could barely meet her eyes, ashamed at having cost so many lives.
“What do we do with you?” she asked, and he lifted his head. “You warned us she would try to find you; perhaps it’s time for you to suggest what happens next.”
“I think you should keep me on the base,” he croaked. Her eyes remained steady and he blurted out, his voice bitter, “Either that, or hand me over and get what you can for me.”
Lichio looked at Kare, his mouth open, but Rjala didn’t show any surprise. He kept his gaze on her, telling himself it wasn’t a betrayal of Ealyn and Karia to be sitting with her. Except…she’d sent them to their deaths and he wanted her to know that. He clenched his fists, digging the nails into his hand, and told himself to calm down.
“The Empress might want you, but that won’t make us give you to her. Quite the opposite, actually– we’ll do what we can to keep you from her,” Rjala said.
They hadn’t when he was a child. The Empress had always wanted them. It was just now he was old enough to be useful to the Banned. His anger faded away, replaced by a dull ache. He was an outsider here, just as much as he had been on Dignad. The last months with the platoon, he had believed he fitted in, that going to the gym and the games room, even out to the bar to drink the local piss that passed for beer, made him normal.
