Empire of Dust

by Jacey Bedford

  “That’s up to you.” Ben stopped and took her hand, pulling her around to face him. “I won’t pretend that I don’t find you attractive, but there are still no strings attached.”

  “I suppose we can work it out together.”

  “But not bedfriends.” He knew the answer to that one even before she shook her head.

  She changed the subject. “You really like Crowder, don’t you? Is that why you stick around here, working for the Trust when you could get a transfer and be earning more from the independents on the Rim?”

  He did like Crowder; the man had always been straight with him, but that wasn’t all of it. “I’ve got my reasons. Besides, I’ve been on the Rim. There are credits to be made if you don’t mind breaking heads.”

  “But you mind.”

  He shrugged and turned to continue walking.

  “Marta told me you were out on the Rim with the Monitors.”

  “For a while. I learned the hard way that the bad guys don’t always wear black hats.”

  “I can sympathize with that. The Trust is . . .”

  “The Trust is like a Swiss cheese.” Ben dropped his voice low and glanced over his shoulder. No one around to overhear. “So is Alphacorp. And all the big corporations. So full of holes you can’t help but fall into some of them occasionally. They’re too big and they’ve been around for too long.” He shrugged. “I’m not enough of an idealist to think I can do much about it in a big way. They’re stronger than the government of any one planet, even Earth itself. Cut off one head and they grow another.”

  “But you still work for the Trust.”

  “Sometimes it’s more effective to work on things from the inside. Besides, I work for Crowder. That’s different. He’s never let me down.”

  “If you say so. I trusted my boss once . . .” She put her fingers to her forehead and screwed up her eyes.

  “Still got a headache?”

  “It’s nothing.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Call me paranoid if you like, but if Crowder’s on the level and playing by the Trust’s book of rules, why has he hired an unproven rogue psi-tech with no résumé, no references, and no history? If I were him, I wouldn’t have hired me.”

  Ben had to admit to himself that it was out of character for Crowder.

  “I told you. He owes me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  FAMILIES

  Victor walked out onto the platform and seated Rena and Danny to one side. They were a perfect family group. Lit by the brilliant overheads, their holographic image projected into the air, larger than life, for the crowd in the outdoor arena. Here were those who looked to him for a better future.

  He knew Rena didn’t enjoy the limelight, but she was an important part of all this. Her tireless work with families, making sure everyone went through basic skills training, had been invaluable. Sometimes both she and dear Danny were necessary window dressing. He hadn’t planned what to say to the assembled crowd. He rarely did. He waited for the moment to take him and somehow it never let him down. In front of a huge crowd a light switched on in his head, and he became perfectly focused.

  “My friends. Thank you for coming.” Victor held his hands in the air, palms out, and there was a warm cheer from the people. He spoke into a tiny filament microphone hovering at chin height. “Not just here, this afternoon to this place, but thank you for coming on this great adventure. Our success will pave the way for other dissidents to follow. They’ll all have their own worlds if we are successful on ours.”

  He felt the swell of support from the crowd. There was something visceral about these moments. They were with him. He was the reason they were here. And it was all due to him, not due to some implant enhancement which enabled him to control the masses. This was his own talent, what he was born for.

  “Friends, I must ask your patience,” he continued. “In order to achieve our freedom, there is one last barrier to overcome. We have to work with those very creatures which we are seeking to leave behind—psi-techs.”

  There was a disapproving rumble from the crowd.

  “I know. I know.” He held up both hands. “You all know my feelings on this matter. Think of this as testing our resolve. If we can bear this for only one year, then we’ll be free.”

  He stretched his arms to embrace the whole meeting, his face lit with passion. “Free!”

  “Free! Free! Free!” his followers chanted back.

  “I have searched my heart and found a place in it for our psi-tech associates. So, my friends, I ask you for my sake, for your own sake and for the sake of our children.” He turned to Danny and the boy’s pleasant face beamed back at him in a broad smile.

  There were a few cries of “Danny, we love you,”

  “For the sake of all our children.” Victor dropped his voice to a sincere low rumble. “Accept this temporary imposition. Work with the psi-techs. Accept their help, and then you can wave them farewell forever.”

  There was a huge cheer.

  • • •

  Ben called for Cara early so that they could walk to work together. It was fully dark. Cara wondered if she’d ever get used to Chenon’s double-length days and double-length nights. Every second working day was dark. This hardly felt like morning, though she’d just woken after seven solid hours of sleep.

  “We get a couple of leave days before departure,” Ben said. “I’m going to fly out to the farm to see family tomorrow. If you don’t have any other plans, would you like to come?”

  “Sure.” Her mouth answered before her brain thought it through.

  “It’s a five-hour run. Meet me on landing pad B at six so we can make the most of the light.”

  • • •

  She was ready and waiting for him, a small bag packed, by a quarter before six, and at five-fifty a compact copter settled down before her. Ben waved through the bubble top.

  They made the journey halfway round the planet in just a little over five hours, following the dawn.

  “There it is.”

  Ben hovered the copter high above the farm, a patchwork of bioformed green grass and native pink vegetation. It was a large spread by Earth standards, but, he said, small for Chenon. Honey-colored cattle dotted the pasture near the low pink turf of the barnyard roofs. The house, set a little apart, was mostly underground: circular with a ring-shaped turf roof angled down to the outer wall and a central atrium to let light in to all the floors.

  Ben landed on the pad outside the yard. The copter doors slid backward with a hiss. Cara felt the fresh cool breeze on her face and tasted the countryside on the air, a mixture of newly mown grass and paruna with a sweet hint of aurelia blossom and the warmth of animal dung.

  Their descent from the neat little bubble-shaped machine was greeted by the noisy barking of a pair of cattle dogs, black and white with intelligent eyes and, by canine standards, smiling faces. Ben called them by name, touched each one on the head in recognition, then laughed as they leaped and bounced around him.

  “Tam, Lol, heel.” The command was sharp as the crack of a dry twig, and the dogs shot back toward the long-coated woman striding purposefully toward them.

  “Reska. Good to see you, boy.”

  Cara’s brain stumbled over the use of Ben’s given name.

  Ben’s mother, thought Cara. Even though she had a wind-weathered Caucasian complexion instead of brown skin, she looked so much like him, the straight nose, the high cheekbones. She was tall for a woman, and strong looking. Ben hadn’t told her that his mother was here as well.

  “Nan.”

  “Come inside. The kettle’s hot.”

  “Nan, this is Cara. Cara, this is my grandmother.”

  Grandmother! Cara tried to work out this woman’s age. She didn’t look a day over sixty. She must have lost a lot of years in cryo.

  “I prefer to count my age in local time, rather than Earth years. It sounds better.” She looked at Cara and laughed. Cara hastily revised her opinions and checked her shields
. She didn’t think she’d been broadcasting.

  “Call me Nan. Everyone else does. And in case you’re wondering, I’m a Psi-2 Empath, Psi-4 Telepath, and class one farmer.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Cara took the proffered hand.

  “How long can you stay?”

  “Only until tomorrow, Nan,” Ben said, “or we’ll both be busted to brush-pusher when Crowder catches up with us.”

  “Your timing’s bad. Rion’s taken Ricky to Foster Bailey’s place to negotiate for a new bull calf. They won’t be back until late tomorrow.”

  “He knew we were coming.”

  Nan sighed. “You know your brother. He hates good-byes.”

  Seems like he’s not too fond of hellos, either, Cara thought.

  Nan glanced at her and she was reminded to keep her thoughts to herself. The old woman was fiercely perceptive.

  “I should go over to the Bailey place,” Ben said.

  The slight rise and fall of Nan’s shoulders said he could please himself. “Bring Ricky back. I’m sure he’d like to meet Cara.”

  “Will do.” He kissed Nan on the cheek. “Entertain Cara while I’m gone.”

  “Of course. I’ll give her a tour of the place.” Nan looked sideways. “If she’d like one.”

  “I’d love it.” Cara said.

  “Coffee first?”

  “Nan’s brew. Dangerous stuff,” Ben said over his shoulder as he turned for the copter.

  “Mmm, thanks. Coffee would be lovely.”

  Nan led the way down the steps into the kitchen, which was on the upper floor of the house. A large curved window looked down over the plant-filled central atrium. She held up the pot.

  “How do you take it?”

  “Cream if you have it.”

  “This is a farm.” Nan’s eyes twinkled.

  Cara laughed. “I never thought of that.” She accepted the mug gratefully and inhaled the wonderful aroma. Real caffeine-laced coffee. She tasted it and smiled. “I thought Ben must have grown up on tea, or really bad caff, but this coffee’s wonderful.”

  Nan smiled. The clear blue morning light flooded in from the atrium and rearranged the small wrinkles on her leathery face into laughter-lines. “I always wanted a daughter-in-law who could drink my coffee without flinching. Sorry, I should say granddaughter-in-law, but it’s such a mouthful, and I think of Reska and Rion as my sons, though sometimes they hardly seem to be related to each other.”

  “Ben . . . Reska . . . and I . . . We’re not really married . . .” Cara began, but Nan waved her hand dismissively.

  “Oh, I’m only kidding. Reska told me.”

  “I don’t want to be here under false pretenses.”

  “You’re welcome here on whatever pretenses. Reska doesn’t often bring friends home. He says you’re in trouble, but he won’t tell me any details.”

  “I didn’t give him any.”

  “You must have convinced him somehow; otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  “I guess he took me on trust.”

  “Trust’s a good thing. You don’t trust him enough to give him the full story?”

  She didn’t answer. Just thinking about giving anyone the full story made her mouth dry out and her flesh go clammy. She had the whole dirt on Ari van Blaiden and for some reason she didn’t want to use it, even though he was a complete bastard.

  “No matter. Just think on it.” Nan’s chair scraped on the floor as she stood up. “I’ve got a crazy amount to do today, but I can spare an hour. Do you want to see the farm?”

  Cara nodded. “Yes, please.”

  “Here, take one of my spare jackets from the hallway. It’s chilly at this time of year.”

  Cara slipped her arms inside a quilted jacket and felt its heater circuits kick in to make it snug and warm. She followed Nan up the stairs to the outside, where all that could be seen of the house above ground level was the head of the stairs, a series of solar cells and dense pink thatch, netted with trilene mesh to prevent the weather and the birds from denuding it.

  The wind blew her hair, and she ran her hands through it, trying to get used to the new short cut. It was certainly easier on a blustery day like today.

  “Do you ride?” Nan led the way down a wide ramp into a dugout barn. “I keep horses here, just for the pleasure of it.”

  She hit a switch on the side wall and the soft lights began to rise slowly, like day breaking. A warm animal smell, sweet and clean, met Cara on the threshold. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could just make out four heads hanging over loose-box gates. A couple of the horses whickered a greeting. Nan went to them first, slipped something out of her pocket, and fed them treats.

  “Brigand and Blossom, my two favorites. You didn’t answer me. I asked if you rode.”

  The last time she’d been near any riding animal was on Felcon. They’d escaped from Craike’s men and made a run for it on crestedinas, great saurian riding beasts. Torrence was so badly injured she didn’t know how he kept in the saddle. Eventually his strength had failed. His crestie had raised its head and called. Funny how they seemed to know. She could still hear its cry reverberating. Still remember how it felt . . .

  She pulled herself out of the memory. What had Nan asked?

  “Yes, I ride.” She tried to keep her voice even.

  “Brigand’s stronger; he’ll pull your arms out of their sockets if you let him, but Blossom is devious. Which do you fancy your chances with?”

  “Either.”

  “Take Brig, then. He’s Reska’s favorite.”

  Cara patted the big horse’s neck and let him nuzzle her hand. The lights were full on now, and she could tell he was all-over nut-brown with a long, coarse mane and tail. He lipped the edge of her hand to check her out for treats.

  His tack hung on pegs on the far wall, neatly labeled, so Cara saddled and bridled him, and led him up the ramp into the yard. Nan was already mounted on Blossom, a strawberry-roan mare with fine-boned legs. Cara tightened the girth, swung herself into Brig’s saddle, and shortened the stirrup leathers a notch to fit her leg length.

  Nan watched and nodded in approval. “I was afraid you’d only said you could ride to humor me. Did you grow up on an agricultural planet?”

  Cara held Brig back to Blossom’s pace along the frost-hardened earth track. Nan was right, he did pull against her hands in an effort to get ahead. She used her legs and seat to drive him right up into the bit and then relaxed her hands, so he dropped his nose and stopped fighting her.

  “I was born on Earth, but I grew up all over the galaxy. My parents traveled a lot. They took postings wherever the jobs were, sometimes on planets where the only transportation was animal-based. I learned to ride almost anything you can slap a saddle on, but horses are my favorite.”

  “Mine, too. They’re so elegant. Reska rides well.”

  Somehow that didn’t surprise her. Ben seemed to do everything well. He was one of those irritating people who didn’t appear to have any flaws. She suspected there was a flaw and when she found it, it would be so massive that it would shatter all her illusions.

  Nan gave a running commentary as they rode. “All the buildings here are turf- or thatch-roofed dugouts with solar cells; environmentally friendly, sustainable, and energy efficient. There used to be a crystal dome covering the house, but I had a battle with one of the big landowners in the neighborhood when the boys were young. After it had been mysteriously blown for the third time, I couldn’t afford to replace it. That’s when I went native and had the thatch done. The atrium has been open to the elements ever since, and I think I like it better that way.”

  “A battle?”

  “In a manner of speaking. This farm is small by Chenon standards, and a big landowner tried to buy us and our neighbors out. When we wouldn’t agree, he tried to squeeze us out.”

  “What happened?”

  “We’re still here.” Nan’s face crinkled up into a grin. Cara wouldn’t like to be on the wrong side of Nan
in a battle of wills. No wonder Ben was as tough as he was.

  Cara warmed to this obstinate old woman.

  “I can see where Ben gets his stubbornness from.”

  Nan laughed. “He’s always been a determined one. Never gone any way but his own. You make a good pair.”

  Cara was about to protest the pairing thing again, but Nan gave Blossom her head and set off at a smart canter across the pasture. Brigand chomped at his bit and threw up his head, eager to be off. Cara touched her heels lightly to his sides and he shot forward, hooves pounding, easily catching Blossom, but then being content to keep pace to the top of the incline.

  “There, that’s taken the tickle out of their toes,” Nan said. “What do you think of Crowder?”

  The sudden change of subject caught Cara unawares.

  “I hardly know him. Ben trusts him.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Cara didn’t commit herself.

  Nan’s eyes narrowed. “Reska’s going to need someone to guard his back on this mission. It’s going to be a stinker of a job. I could have wished for a more straightforward assignment, especially for his first colony command since Hera-3. You know about that, of course.”

  “Some of it.”

  “Crowder’s either showing great trust in Reska’s abilities, or he’s setting him up to fail by giving him an impossible task.”

  “Which do you think?”

  Nan pushed back an unruly curl that had escaped from her iron-gray bun. “I’m hoping it’s the former, but I worry that it’s not. Reska’s smart, though. If anyone can pull this off, it’s him. Crowder may have underestimated him.”

  Cara reined in Brigand, who obviously wanted to be off again. “I’ll do all I can to help.”

  “I do believe you will.”

  • • •

  The sun was blazing down by the time Cara heard Ben’s copter on the landing pad. She was chopping onions in the kitchen while Nan seared meat and spices in a pan. Soon after the drive noise faded, there were voices on the stair, Ben’s warm tones and youthful, excited chatter.

  The door burst open and a light brown boy, all elbows and smiles, ran over and hugged Nan from behind.