Empire of Dust

by Jacey Bedford

  “Jussaro, isn’t it?”

  The man nodded. He was sweating slightly. Ari intended that he should sweat a lot more yet. Jussaro was frightened, and with just cause.

  Ari had tried being nice; it was, after all the cheapest way to get information, but the man was quite resistant to it. Ari sighed. That was Jussaro’s problem. Now he would have to get tough and information obtained under duress was less reliable.

  Jussaro had had plenty of time to wonder why he’d been grabbed and shipped to Sentier-4. The reputation of the place had the desired effect.

  Ari glanced back at Robert Craike, who loomed, quiet but menacing, by the door. That drew Jussaro’s attention first to Robert and then back to Ari.

  “How long did you work with Carlinni, Mr. Jussaro?”

  “I told you. Only about two months.”

  “And in that time she never said anything about her past?”

  “She made a joke of it.” He looked at Ari’s face. “Er . . . a sort of joke. She just said that we wouldn’t want to know.”

  “But you’ve been a Telepath. You worked together. It’s hard to keep secrets, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “And she hasn’t been in touch since she disappeared.”

  “No.”

  “We’ll see. I presume you don’t mind taking a little test.”

  “What kind of . . .” Jussaro’s question was stilled as the office door opened and a small woman entered. Jussaro looked up. There was no recognition on his face.

  “Mr. Jussaro, this is Donida McLellan.”

  Jussaro’s eyes said he’d heard of her. There was a new fear there.

  “Look, maybe Cara did get in touch, but it was only brief and she didn’t say where she was.”

  Ari van Blaiden nodded and McLellan turned to Jussaro, her face an absolute blank. A look of pure panic crossed Jussaro’s face, and then he stiffened as he was caught in her mental grip.

  Ari watched McLellan work. He could trust her. He had enough dirt on her to keep her on a penal planet for more years than she had left to live; besides, she wasn’t immune to his charms, though a little mild flirtation was as far as he’d gone. She really wasn’t his type.

  She was a pleasure to watch, though, a real specialist, with telepathic skills better than any battering ram or truth drug. Of course, she didn’t always leave the subject completely undamaged, but she could be guaranteed to get good results. If Jussaro had learned anything about Ari’s affairs from Cara, Donida McLellan would find out. If he knew where Cara was now, she would strip that information from his brain.

  It seemed like hours. In reality it was perhaps less than a minute. McLellan suddenly relaxed and Jussaro toppled forward from his chair.

  “Sorry. I had to go much deeper than I expected. He’s got a lot left even without his implant. Interesting subject. I don’t suppose you’d let me have him when you’re sure you don’t need him anymore?”

  “Maybe. Eventually. But not yet. What did you find?” Ari asked.

  “Nothing. He was telling the truth more or less. She has been in touch, but he doesn’t know where she is now.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. McLellan.”

  “Do you want my opinion?”

  “Did I ask for it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “But you’re going to give it to me anyway.”

  “I was just going to say that I did the prep work on Carlinni. She may not have had a full Neural, but I went in pretty deep. She might be unstable or irrational, but one thing I’m sure of is that she’s going to be pretty well fixated on you. The first thing I started to reinforce was her loyalty, and that could surface at any time. You might be able to use that against her.”

  Pity that loyalty didn’t prevent her from turning on him and stealing his private files. “Mrs. McLellan, do you still have enough of a link to be able to get through to her wherever she is?”

  “I might. I’d probably need to use a Psi-1 to boost my range. Distance isn’t my specialty.”

  “Then I’ll take that into consideration. Thank you for your input.”

  He tossed a credit chip to her and toed Jussaro’s semiconscious body on the floor.

  “Can you erase his memory of this little chat?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Do it. Keep him isolated for a while. I might need him again.”

  Ari beckoned Robert and they left the room together.

  In the corridor, away from Donida McLellan, Ari kept his eyes fixed dead ahead, conscious of Robert’s warmth by his side. “It seems as though Cara has kept her mouth shut, so far. Are we any closer to tracking down all the ships that left Mirrimar-14?”

  “Not all of them, but our shortlist is getting shorter.”

  “Good. Put more people on it, and come to me when you’ve got something useful.”

  Robert hesitated and turned, putting one hand on Ari’s arm. “Do you really think she’s so dangerous, or is it because you want her back?” he asked. “This is about Cara, isn’t it? The information is just an excuse. You have feelings for her, even now, even after she betrayed you.”

  Ari smiled. “Put your mind at rest, Robert. She’s a loose cannon. I can’t trust that she’ll disappear and not use the information, either to blackmail me or to implicate me in something I can’t shake off.”

  “Is that all? I’ve never seen you so personally . . .” Robert seemed to search for a word carefully. “So personally bothered by anything before.”

  “She escaped from me, Robert. Left me bound and gagged and naked. Downloaded the contents of my handpad. Of course it’s personal. No one does that to me and gets away with it.”

  “As long as we both know why we’re doing this.”

  Ari smiled. “When we find her, we can find a suitable way to make her pay, both of us together. How fitting.”

  • • •

  Cara got up a couple of hours early so she could ride a monopod to a shopateria on the outskirts of Arkhad. She’d drawn enough credits to buy a few personal items to replace those she’d had to leave behind. It was early in the daily cycle, but the city never closed. Chenon’s long day meant that human body clocks had people sleeping through half the daylight hours and working through half the night, so Cara’s morning was barely midafternoon in Chenon’s long cycle. On a whim she walked into a hair parlor and came out with her hair cut elfin-short and dyed back to its own natural honey color. She ran her fingers through it, feeling it already beginning to curl with the unaccustomed lightness. She’d worn her hair long all her life, so to suddenly find that it was short enough to wash and dry in five minutes was a novelty. Maybe she should have cut it years ago.

  She steeled herself for the infodump from Cas—implant to implant—all the background and data she needed to get up to speed on this mission delivered mind to mind. She knew she’d be fine once she’d assimilated it, but the actual dump was a strange and often disconcerting procedure that she’d never liked. Despite all the training, infodumps were still briefings from hell as far as she was concerned. Anticipation made her feel nauseous. She knew she couldn’t refuse it if she wanted to join the team, but by the time she’d walked across the grounds and floated up to the office in the antigrav shaft she was shaking.

  Cas wasn’t playing one-upmanship today. The older woman took one look at Cara, practically dragged her up to the med station and shoved her into a side room containing nothing but a chair and a narrow bed with a light cover. “I’ve seen happier looking corpses. Relax, girl, I’m good at this.”

  Cara started to mumble some excuse about being tired and just getting over the concussion.

  Cas pushed her down to sit on the bed and pulled up the chair. “Yeah, you’re right. No sense in taking chances.” She leaned her head out of the door and bellowed, “Doc . . . you got a minute?”

  Ronan appeared in the doorway and leaned against the doorframe, looking workmanlike in antibacs.

  “Did you want An
na, or will I do?”

  “Ronan, honey, you’ll always do for me.”

  He squeezed Cas’ hand and returned the peck on the cheek she gave him. “I have to go out again this afternoon. Another batch of settlers is scheduled for cryo, but I’m yours until then.” He turned and smiled at Cara. “Nice grapple game last night. You play well.”

  “Not as well as the rest of you. It’s a while since I played.”

  “I’ve been hearing more about you from Ben.”

  “About me?”

  “Well, Ben told me the important bits, though I suspect he left a lot out.”

  “She’s recovering from a concussion, and I need to do an infodump this morning. I was going to ask Anna to check her over before we start, but I’m sure you can do better than that,” Cas said.

  “She looked fine at the grapple game, but you’re right, no point in taking a risk. Want me to put in a fix?” He took Cara’s hand. “Lie back on the exam couch.”

  She was immediately fortified by his warm, steady grip. She had to make herself let go of his fingers.

  “If you’re not too tired,” Cas said.

  “Oh, you’re a psi-tech Healer.” Cara suddenly caught on. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to give the poor man his hand back; he’d been giving out since they first touched.

  “Right,” Ronan said. “I’m a real doctor as well, but I’ve got some small talent for channeling energy.”

  “He’s a Psi-3,” Cas said proudly. “Any higher than that and he’d be a miracle worker.”

  “Psi-3 Healer? I’m impressed, Dr. Wolfe.” Cara smiled.

  “Save that for after we see whether I can do anything for the remains of your concussion . . . and please call me Ronan. You’ll have realized we’re not very formal around here. Just put your feet up on the bed, lie back, and relax.”

  Cara let Ronan cover her with the sheet and take her hand again. He sat on the edge of the bed and immediately she got an all-will-be-well feeling. She opened her eyes wide. “Are you a broadcasting Empath?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. Think they’d let me loose on the frontier planets if I was? Especially on this trip with a bunch of superstitious settlers, probably half of whom already think that we can take over their minds with or without our implants?” He grinned. “But I’m Empathic and, unless I’m very much mistaken, so are you . . .”

  It wasn’t quite a question, but she nodded anyway. “Barely a Psi-5.”

  “That’s still good enough to grease the communications slope between us in both directions. Shut up, now, and let me work.”

  Cara closed her eyes and relaxed—not a difficult thing to do when her hand was being held by someone who seemed to be pouring warmth and affection in her direction, willing her to be cured of all ills. Ah, if only life could be so simple.

  “You’ll do.”

  “What?”

  “The concussion’s not going to be a problem. There’s no intracerebral hemorrhage, no long-term damage—just a diffuse injury that’s well on the way to repairing itself. I’d say you’re fine for the infodump.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Cas said.

  “Yes, thanks,” Cara echoed.

  “You’re welcome—anytime.” He squeezed her hand gently and let it go.

  “Bye, honey.” Cas sighed as Ronan left them, and Cara saw the look on her face.

  “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she said. “Pity he’s gay.”

  Cas laughed. “Everyone falls for him, but he’s in a relationship with Jon Moon, one of Wenna’s cartographers from Mapping and Exploration. It’s all a bit new, but they seem very suited. Lie still now.”

  Cara cleared her mind and activated her implant to receive. Cas fired packets of information directly into her mind. Over the next two hours it would be dispersed into physical memory while she slept. When she awoke, she’d know everything she needed to know about Olyanda and the upcoming mission.

  “All right?” Cas asked.

  Cara nodded, unable to speak.

  “Sleep now. I’ll wake you with a hot drink in a couple of hours. Better service than the best hotel, eh?”

  Cara did sleep, but the infodump manifested in a dreamlike parade of facts. As she digested it all, she began to appreciate just how tricky the year on Olyanda was going to be.

  It would be a physically difficult place, temperate around the equatorial band and three quarters of the single land mass covered by a retreating ice sheet. Prone to sudden violent storms, but little seismic activity. Part of the available land was rendered barren by mountains and yet another part by a dust desert. Still, the habitable area would ultimately support an agrarian population of maybe fifty million. The colonists had a long way to go before they ran out of space and at the rate the ice was receding, they’d reclaim more land each year.

  The big problem was going to be the electromagnetic activity. Even if the back-to-basics settlers had wanted to take technology with them, they’d have been disappointed. Olyanda orbited a very active star with visible sunspots and dramatic solar storms occurring irregularly. Anything reliant upon radio waves was a nonstarter, and without heavyweight shielding all the computer systems and even sophisticated AIs would fry.

  The population would be protected from the worst of the radiation by the atmosphere, though they’d have to learn to wear thick sunblock and protective clothing when the sun was acting up or suffer a cancer epidemic. But with the resulting spectacular aurora, they’d certainly get fair warning.

  Adapting to the land was a long-term problem, but possibly the bigger question in the short-term was how were the ten thousand Ecolibrians going to rationalize their fear and loathing of the psi-tech team during the first year? That thought was still in Cara’s head when Cas touched her arm gently.

  “Tea?”

  Cara forced her mouth to work. “Uhh. Thanks.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Everything all right?”

  “I think so. It’s going to be a hell of a year.” She took the mug of tea from Cas.

  “Well, you wouldn’t want to have it easy, would you? Where’s the fun in that?”

  Cara sighed. Yes, just for once I would like it to be easy, please. I’d like a mission where no one comes home in a body bag; where the crops don’t fail; where the provisional government isn’t overthrown by the loony faction; where platinum mining doesn’t bleed the heart of the planet dry and ruin the farmland; where the sun shines gently and the wind doesn’t blow the roofs off the temporary shelters; where a quarter of the plows aren’t lost in a shuttle accident; where the original bio survey isn’t so snafued that none of the native botany matches up with the imported biology . . .

  “I don’t need to be a Clairvoyant to see that we’re sitting on top of a short-fused bomb with the Ecolibrians hating everything we stand for.”

  Cas grinned without humor. “It’s ironic, isn’t it, that the FPA would probably like nothing better than to stick all the fundy Ecolibrians in a rocket ship and send them off to the far side of the galaxy to sink or swim on their own, but with the political situation on Earth, they daren’t. The Ecos applied for a waiver on the setup team legislation, you, know, but it was turned down.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” She rubbed her temple. “I guess they were as pissed as all hell.”

  “Still are from what I can make out.”

  “Great.”

  • • •

  Ben was waiting for Cara at the office door when her shift ended. “I thought I’d walk you home,” he said. “You’re looking better.”

  “I’m feeling better.” She told him about the grapple match.

  “Sorry I missed it.”

  “Cas did a direct infodump for me today. I hate that kind of thing, but I guess I needed it.”

  “Me, too. I get mine tomorrow.”

  They left the building by the antigrav shaft and headed across the open lawns outside, their boots crushing the dewy deep-pink growth of Chenon’s native grasses and send
ing up bursts of a faintly sage-like scent given off by the bruised leaves. It was dusk, but with Chenon’s long day, dusk could last for four or five hours depending on the cloud cover.

  Cara stared at the ground. “Gen got us a double apartment in the staff hall. Said we don’t both have to use it, but that it looks better if anyone asks.”

  It didn’t sound like an invitation. He cleared his throat. “I’ve still got a small place in Arkhad. I’m staying there for now.”

  They walked side by side, not touching.

  “Are you sure?”

  He glanced across.

  “Not that I’m offering or anything.” She looked down again.

  “I doubt that anyone will notice unless we draw attention to it.” He turned sideways to look at her. “Of course, any time you change your mind, just let me know.”

  Cara cleared her throat, shook her head, and continued walking.

  “I know it’s awkward,” he said. “But at least this way we don’t risk back-checks via immigration.”

  “I suppose so.” She hesitated “What about Gen?”

  “What about Gen?”

  “She seemed awfully upset when she thought our marriage was real.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been away for months. Gen was on assignment before that. We’ve been apart for almost a year. We don’t have exclusive rights on each other. It was more a bedfriends thing. No commitment. It pretty much fizzled out.”

  “Did it fizzle out for Gen, too?”

  He supposed that it had. Was there any suggestion that Gen didn’t think so? He’d have to straighten that out with her.

  “Awkward question. Sorry. I wanted to know the score. Didn’t mean to play the jealous wife, especially when I’m not.”

  Would he like it if she was? Ben found himself dwelling on the stupid question. He barely knew the woman. With an inward groan he admitted to himself that he’d like to remedy that, but rushing her was the last thing she’d respond to. He kept his voice neutral. “I’m sorry about all this. Do you mind keeping up appearances? Or is this thing too stupid? I can tell Crowder to forget it.”

  “Is it just keeping up appearances?”