MindMage: BlackWing Pirates, Book 2

by Connie Suttle

  I turned to Travis. Zanfield was far from stupid.

  "Want to come?" I asked. "I can disguise you if you want."

  "You think I want to hide this?" He trailed an airborne hand from chin to waist.

  "I should know better," I agreed.

  "Fucking right you should."

  Less than an hour later, Zanfield, Travis and I folded to the Sandswept Casino. Travis and I were in our outfits from the night before as we trailed Zanfield Staggs. If we'd wanted to create a disturbance, this was certainly the way to go about it.

  Half the people in the Sandswept whispered as Zanfield stalked past them; the other half were shocked speechless by his appearance.

  Our destination was the ballroom where all the planetary tourism departments had their displays set up, and Travis had already warned Zanfield to be courteous and not make a dive toward Northon's booth first.

  That meant he took his time, selecting this world or that as we traversed the ballroom. Bright displays drew his interest, like a bird who collected shiny things. He was offered brochures, comp-vid postcards and anything else the tourism departments had to give away.

  They all wanted Zanfield to visit their worlds and spend plenty of money. I didn't tell them that Zanfield had grown tired of that, and only looked to gamble or for something outrageously different when he traveled at all.

  At least Chief Markus was dressed as a civilian when he matched his steps beside mine.

  We're slowly working our way toward Northon's display, I sent mindspeech to him. He couldn't reply, but his imperceptible nod let me know he heard and understood.

  After a while, we followed Zanfield to Northon's booth. Two women and one man—employees of the planetary tourism department, gushed over Zanfield's visit to their booth.

  I studied them before linking with Kooper, so he could see them, too.

  Infected? Kooper asked right away.

  The man is, and one of the women—the older one, I confirmed. The young woman is from here—a temporary hire to help man the booth. I worry that she'll be infected before this is over, though. I can't see in them where the rest of the wooden spheres are located—they're too heavily infected. The young one doesn't know what happened to them, either.

  I'll arrange to offer her another job and pull her away from them. Can you add the other two to the map you built?

  Already done.

  Good. I'll have someone watching. I really need to see one of their wooden balls, I added. At that moment, the man reached beneath the table and set a wooden ball in front of Zanfield.

  It was all I could do to slap a tight shield around it before Zanfield lifted the thing.

  They were told not to give any more away, Kooper fumed.

  I don't think that's our worst worry, here, I replied.

  What's your worst worry? Kooper asked after a moment's consideration of my remark.

  I can't say for sure, but the hair rose on my arms when he pulled that thing out. I shielded it before Zanfield touched it.

  Good. We'll examine it later.

  I should have known, however. Zanfield wasn't particularly interested in toys or collectibles. He had more than enough throughout his massive homes. He set the ball on the table and walked away.

  The man snatched the ball and placed it beneath the table again.

  When Chief Markus and I followed Zanfield, I Pulled the polished wooden ball to me with power, allowing it to drop directly into my pocket. It would stay safely shielded there until I could examine it and hand it to Kooper.

  Kooper

  "What do you mean, Jewl is asking for a massage therapist and a hairdresser?" I closed my eyes for a moment so I could reel my anger back.

  Opal was the one to inform me of the latest request; any other lackey would have hesitated to approach me with that news.

  She merely waited patiently, as she often did, dark eyes seldom blinking as I worked through my fury.

  We'd attempted to explain to Jewl and Charla about the dangers the Prophet presented, and that Adarr Gramm and Rale Linn were likely in his clutches already, as Jewl couldn't get a message through to either one.

  Charla, who'd been kidnapped and faced certain death at the Prophet's hands before a miraculous rescue, had listened carefully.

  Jewl waved away our concerns, as if she thought herself immune to anything the Prophet might do. Now, she wanted to be treated like royalty instead of the criminal she was. It mattered not that the rest of us scrambled to solve the puzzle of the Prophet and those he'd infected.

  What mattered was her comfort.

  Charla, on the other hand, asked for meals, shampoo and food for Barkins. She also stayed in the suite on the opposite end from her mother, and didn't bother to attempt to talk after her mother slapped her in front of a crowd.

  I didn't blame Charla for wanting to get away from the shrew; the woman was a vindictive murderer, among her many other crimes.

  Again, I regretted the deal I'd made with her to bring her in. Jett was so furious with Jewl and her actions that his standard answer was a solid no to all her requests. She hadn't bargained for anything other than suitable accommodations, and he pointed that out as often as she asked.

  Therefore, she came to me, hoping for better treatment, when she deserved nothing of the sort.

  "Save us from criminal prima donnas," I said, employing one of Queen Lissa's phrases from Old Earth.

  "Want Kell to place compulsion?" Opal wore a hopeful expression.

  "For the duration of her stay here, yes," I waved a hand, giving my blessing to the idea.

  "I'll have him word it specifically for that, then," Opal sounded satisfied as she turned away.

  "Thank the gods," I mumbled and turned back to my work. Coordinating my agents with Jett's was a constant, moving beast, and that didn't include Zanfield Staggs and the agents at the Eclipse, all of whom were busy tagging the Prophet's replacements.

  Randl

  I taught Travis and Trent how to tag the replacements, so they'd appear on Kooper's map. They held the power to do it, so it was merely a simple instruction to make.

  Bekzi watched and knew how immediately. He gave me a nod and a grin before going out to search for more. Jett's people had already identified most of them through their credit chips, so I was now using those as my guide while going through the list to place tags for the maps.

  Somehow, I knew that many would come together at some arranged place when the time was right; that's why it was so important to place all of them on Kooper's map.

  I still had the wooden ball from Northon Tourism, too, and hadn't bothered to study it yet. It lay on the desk beside my comp-vid, waiting for me to finish what I was working on.

  "I thought I put that back," Zanfield stood over my shoulder, snooping into what I was working on.

  "You did. I took it when they weren't looking."

  "Can you tell me why?" I turned to look at him; he clutched a small cup of tea in long, agile fingers, while his purple-tipped yellow hair rose and fell, like a wheat field waving in the wind.

  "Because the Prophet has had a hand in its making, and you can bet he's looking for a way to spread the disease he's already infected too many with, so they will obey his will. By the way, he likes to drown his prisoners in liquid concrete while his minions watch and cheer."

  Zanfield went still, his fingers tightening on the cup he held. I could almost hear the increasingly rapid beat of his heart.

  "Is—that true, or are you lying to keep me from knowing the truth?"

  "It's true." I turned back to my task. "Right now, I'm trying to tag roughly two hundred of the Prophet's replacements—he has a way to make his people look exactly like other people, so he can take the real ones for his sacrifices while placing his minions in strategic jobs and locations to attack the rest of us."

  "I thought we were looking for an assassin, perhaps, since the Conclave," Zanfield began. "This is the reason it was delayed last year, isn't it?"

  "Y
ou're pretty sharp for a rich man," I said.

  "He had a hand in destroying that ship before it reached Pyrik?"

  "Yes. Several hands, actually."

  "This bears thinking about." Zanfield turned to walk away. "Thank you for being honest," he tossed over his shoulder.

  "No problem." I tagged two more from their credit chip information on my comp-vid.

  We have three replacements meeting and talking with two criminals from Charla's list, Travis sent.

  Track them. Don't let them get away, Kooper growled. He'd been included in the blanket mindspeech. I want as much information as you can get, he added.

  On it, Travis replied.

  Link with me, I told Travis. Immediately I saw what he was seeing.

  We can't get close enough to hear anything, Trent said.

  Hold on, I told him.

  What? Trent began, until I could hear his audible sigh. He'd become an amplification device for the rest of us—I'd done it with power. We hadn't arrived in time to listen to the first part of the conversation, however, because all we heard before the five turned to walk away was the Prophet's will be done.

  Fuck, Kooper swore as we watched the three replacements split up shortly after. Travis turned back to the two criminals—they were our only hope now of getting any information regarding the Prophet's will.

  I'm in the map room, keeping an eye on them now, Kooper informed us after a moment. I'll have Jett send two of his agents to apprehend them.

  Thank you, I said. Make sure they're well-armed—the agents.

  I will. Travis, Trent, you don't need to be anywhere near the arrest—get back to the Eclipse, Kooper ordered.

  Right away.

  I cut off the connection with Travis and Trent with a sigh.

  "Tell me what just happened." Zanfield's voice behind me made me jump—I'd forgotten he was there during the exchange.

  Sandswept Casino

  Sabrina

  The rainbow birds were flying over the crowd of early registrants, all of whom were enthralled by the life-like, mechanical birds.

  Somehow, Kooper had diverted the data received from the scanner each bird carried to a receiver in the Founder's palace library. So far, none with the infection had been detected, but the birds had been recorded on so many comp-vids it was staggering, and the information booth was inundated with requests for where the birds could be purchased.

  "You could make a fortune off these and other flying creatures if you choose to manufacture," Wyatt said. He, Jayna and I sat at a bistro table in a nearby café, watching the crowd and the birds.

  Jayna looked like herself; she'd dropped the disguise and wore civilian clothing to sit beside Wyatt, who would be recognized by many locals as the Founder's son. After Conclave was over, I imagined they'd announce their engagement.

  I'd been allowed to leave the Eclipse to watch the initial response to the mechanical birds and to be close enough to deal with any difficulties arising from their use.

  Truthfully, the others at the Eclipse had things well in hand and didn't need me—I was powerless to help in most instances, unless somebody needed to be shot with one of my special ranos pistols.

  That wasn't likely to happen—at least not yet.

  "This feels—surreal," I confessed to Wyatt.

  "In what way?"

  "Like impending madness," I said. "These people act so calm and happy, and here I sit, wondering whether we'll even survive the next few days."

  "Politics, power and madness often go hand-in-hand," Wyatt replied. "We've seen some rough patches during my lifetime. You don't even want to know what Dad and Mom had to go through to put the Campiaan Alliance together."

  "Everybody always says that your father built it by himself," I said.

  "And they're wrong. My mother, Dormas, the reptanoids and the Starr brothers—the Starr brothers are Dad's warlocks—they all helped. If they hadn't been with him, he probably would have failed."

  "Reptanoids?" I hadn't heard that term before.

  "Bekzi is one of eight brothers. They were in the thick of it, too."

  "You call them reptanoids because they're snake shapeshifters?"

  "That's part of it, yes. Get Travis and Trent to explain it, sometime."

  "All right."

  "Hi, baby."

  Queen Lissa arrived at our table, kissed Wyatt first, then Jayna and me.

  "We were just talking about how the Alliance was formed, and who stood with Dad to make it happen," Wyatt said while standing and pulling out an extra chair for his grandmother.

  "Hmmph," Lissa snorted.

  "Gran's memories of that time aren't so fantastic," Wyatt grinned.

  "That's an understatement," Lissa observed.

  "Queen Lissa, I have something I'd like to ask you about," I said. Ever since Zaria had dressed me down and made me see the light, as so many people might say, I'd been puzzled and confused by something she'd said.

  "What's that, honey?" Lissa asked.

  "Well, Zaria came to see me a while back. She told me that she can see who everybody was before."

  "That's—interesting," Lissa hesitated for a few seconds.

  "Let's get Gran some tea," Wyatt tapped Jayna's shoulder. He understood that this needed to be a private conversation. "We'll be back in a few," he told Lissa, and he and Jayna walked away.

  "She ah, told me who I was before. Not the name, just what I'd done. It's awful," I admitted. I'd been afraid to tell Travis and Trent, and frankly, I found it shameful, terrifying and embarrassing at the same time.

  "How awful? Did something happen to you?" Lissa was now very interested.

  "I may have—hurt someone else," I confessed.

  "Who?"

  "She said I committed treason, then killed myself and my baby," I said while tears filled my eyes. "I can't believe I would ever do something like that."

  Lissa's face turned pale and she didn't speak for a very long time. "Every lifetime we are granted," she said eventually, "is a new beginning. A chance to start again. To make up for previous wrongs. To stand for what's right instead of what's convenient, or to allow our hatred to take us over. People let hate make their decisions for them every day, when they shouldn't."

  "What can I do to make up for such terrible wrongs?" I begged.

  "I think you've taken the first steps on that path. Keep moving forward, Sabrina Kend. You have the ability to save lives this time. Use it."

  "But how?" I began.

  And then I stopped. "The birds," I breathed.

  "What?"

  "The birds. I can buy a small manufacturing plant, build those mechanical birds, sell them in both Alliances and give the profits to benefit children everywhere. I hope you know some worthy charities, Queen Lissa, and which will be the best choices to receive those profits."

  "I think I can put a list together," she said dryly. "At the top of that list will be the groups that work to find children sold into slavery, and to prevent it from happening to begin with."

  "Good. That sounds wonderful."

  "Sabrina?" Lissa said.

  "What?"

  "It's good to see you again."

  I didn't understand what she truly meant for the longest time afterward.

  Eclipse Casino

  Randl

  Lose this hand, I instructed Zanfield. Across the table at one of the biggest high-stakes games offered by the Eclipse, were the owners of WildTree Industries and Burche Industries, two of the Big Six logging concerns.

  Zanfield's fingers hesitated for a moment before shoving a rather large pile of gaming tokens toward the center of the table. He was bursting to ask why, but he had no mindspeech.

  Don't worry, we're reeling in the assholes across from you, I explained. A smile curled a corner of Zanfield's mouth as he took his hands away from his bet.

  Zanfield lost the next two hands at my request. On the third hand, Zanfield was dealt the mother of all hands. I knew it was coming. Only bet what you did before, I t
old him.

  The other two had substantial hands themselves, and rolled out a much bigger bet.

  Stay with them, I instructed.

  Zanfield met their bet.

  They upped it again—and then twice more, neither of them dropping out. Zanfield's face could have been cut from stone; he gave no indication he was doing anything except losing money.

  By that time, both his opponents had so much money on the table it was almost suicidal to drop out.

  WildTree went all in, followed closely by Burche.

  Zanfield followed suit, which meant there was a rather large fortune stacked on the table.

  WildTree grinned as he revealed his game pieces. Burche's grin was wider as his hand beat WildTree's and elicited a groan from him.

  Zanfield revealed his pieces, which beat both.

  Almost a billion credits were won by Zanfield, who smiled at his opponents before asking the dealer to cash out.

  I carried the credit chip he was given to the nearby cage, where the money would be transferred to Zanfield's account.

  "Credit my account with my initial draw," Zanfield instructed. "Transfer the winnings to his credit chip," he pointed at me. "He's been an exceptional guard, today."

  "Right away, Master Staggs."

  I offered my left wrist—the one with my designated disguise issued by the ASD embedded in it. I could use the credits anytime I wanted, and be completely legitimate when I did so.

  My right wrist held my official ID, and that was used for official ASD business.

  I had no idea what to do with three hundred million credits, however, although some ideas did come shortly after.

  "This is the most fun I've had in a while," Zanfield chuckled as we walked away from the cage. "Shall we have dinner, now?"

  "You're the boss," I said. My smile was because Zanfield had just relieved two loggers of their money, and it made me happy in a perverse way.

  Travis

  Zanfield is going to the suite after dinner, Randl informed me.

  Good, I replied. Jett has the two criminals locked up and wants you to take a look.

  All right. I'll be there as soon as Zanfield is safely delivered to the room. Who's on guard?

  David, Vik and Dori, I replied.