The Seer

by MacArran, Ariel

  The unhappy doctor left, letting the door of her adjacent office slide shut behind her.

  Arissa tucked her hair behind her ears. The doctor had already treated her head injury, and her bruises and scrapes. They had given her some jinja juice and a protein bar but she insisted on changing back into her own clothes.

  "I have to go for a little while, Arissa," Jolar said gently.

  Arissa rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I heard you and really, you don't have to use such small words, Jolar. I'm telepathic, not stupid."

  His face flushed. "Sorry. Gods, I really don't know how to talk to you." His blue eyes were anxious. "I do have to go now. Will you be okay here till I get back?"

  "Sure. Maybe I'll make Doctor de’Sar happy and run some mazes for her."

  He gave a short laugh then brushed a ringlet away from her face with surprising tenderness. "I won't be long. We'll figure this out, I promise. Okay?"

  He was so concerned, so worried about leaving her, so serious about calming her fears. His fingers lingered on her cheek and she realized at some point her resentment of him—his easy, secure existence—had simply wisped away to nothingness.

  But she couldn’t trust him.

  She couldn’t trust anyone.

  Arissa looked away. "Sure."

  "You look tired." He lifted a folded blanket from the shelf. "Why don’t you lie down for a while? I’ve got a house not far from here. I have to—But maybe we'll go there just for tonight."

  "I dropped your money," Arissa said sharply. "Back in the alley.”

  His mouth twitched. "Don't worry about it. I’ve got more.”

  Arissa toed off her shoes while Jolar shook out the blanket. It smelled faintly of sanitizing soap. She spread it over her legs, then scooted back on the exam table and pulled the blanket up.

  He lowered the light levels, self-conscious and awkward as he tucked the blanket around her. He laid his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "Get some rest, Arissa. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can."

  "Jolar?"

  He stopped in the doorway, his hair a brilliant gold in the light streaming in from the hall.

  "Thanks," Arissa said. "You know, for helping me."

  He gave a quick smile, dazzling in its genuine warmth. "Jensah is right next door if you need anything. I'll wake you when I get back."

  Arissa curled up on the exam table and closed her eyes. She heard the door slide shut behind him.

  She focused on Jolar, felt him pause to speak with the doctor, followed as the crackles and spikes of his worried rushing grew distant . . .

  Arissa's eyes snapped open.

  She slid off the table and in quick order had her feet back in her slippers.

  With her concussion treated and food in her stomach she was thinking clearly again.

  She’d bet a princess's jewels she couldn't break into this place in a hundred years. But getting out should be easy. Fire, gas leak, attack on the base, they wouldn't risk locking people in the medcenter. The lift needed a pass but the stairs would probably have to stay unlocked for emergencies.

  But just in case…

  Arissa pulled the security pass from her pocket. Her lip curled. Easy enough, slipping it from the jacket Jensah had tossed aside while they argued about locking her up on a space station with the fracking blood plague . . .

  Dacel’s gray eyes were pained. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me, Jolar?”

  At least he hasn’t said no.

  From where he stood before the Zartani Councilor’s desk, Jolar looked out the window of the office at the lights of the Fleet base below.

  “I owe her a life debt,” Jolar said. “You’re Zartani, you know what this means to me, what my obligation is to her.”

  “And you’re sure she’s a Seer? I don’t think there’s been one detected in almost sixty years. If there’s any chance she isn’t . . .”

  Jolar’s thoughts flashed to her, her frightened eyes, her thin, worn clothes. She was too delicate, too innocent looking to be—

  What she is.

  “I was there when Jensah read the test results. There’s no doubt. She’s a telepath.”

  Dacel rubbed his hand over his face and Jolar felt a stab of guilt at adding to Dacel’s many burdens. He couldn’t help but notice his friend’s hair had gone all silver in the last few months. He showed every one of his sixty odd years tonight and his dark, formal shirt was too loose, as if his worries were affecting his appetite as well.

  Jolar closed his eyes briefly. “Dacel, I gave her my word. It’s a matter of honor.”

  “Perhaps if you provided her with some money,” Dacel suggested, spreading his hands. “I might be able to arrange to have her taken quietly off-world . . .”

  Jolar could almost see her, apprehended, sobbing, her eyes squeezing shut in terror as a TelSec placed the muzzle of his blaster against her forehead to fire.

  “There’s nowhere in Tellaran space she’ll ever be safe,” Jolar said hoarsely. “Money, sending her off-world—it’ll just delay her inevitable execution. And you know it doesn’t satisfy my debt, Dacel, not by a long shot.”

  Dacel tapped his fingers on the top of his desk, like he always did whenever he was weighing something carefully.

  “This mission to Sertar—this is vital, Jolar. Your cover has been established, the house on Aylor has been purchased, all the pieces painstakingly put in place to make your role convincing. I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake.”

  “Someone tried to kill me tonight,” Jolar reminded. “This wasn’t a robbery, this wasn’t some biter scrambling for money to get his next sartac measure—this was an assassin. I was up against a wall with a blaster pointed at my chest before I even knew he was there.” He met his friend’s eyes, willing him to understand. “She came into that alley after we did. She could have kept going, even slipped back out and left me to die, but she didn’t. A Seer, subject to termination on discovery, and she still didn’t walk away. She almost got herself killed in that alley tonight—for my sake. She’s the only reason I’m standing here now. She saved me, Dacel, and risked her life twice over to do it.”

  “This man, the Utavian, he knew you by name?”

  “And I can’t remember the last time I went to that section of Xan-Tellar. Which also means he knew where I would be and when.”

  Dacel’s mouth tightened. “Who else knew you would be there?”

  “Fracking half the staff near my office knew I was meeting Tasan for a drink tonight before he shipped out,” Jolar said shortly. “That’s not counting anyone who could have sliced in to my files and checked my calendar.”

  Dacel shook his head. “I hope Tasan didn’t have a hand in it. I know he’s a friend.”

  “Tasan’s not that careless,” Jolar said dryly. “Once he has a job to do, he follows through. Tasan would double check to make sure I was dead and, if I wasn’t, he’d take care of it personally.”

  “Maybe sending you to Sertar is too dangerous now,” Dacel murmured. “If someone knows where I’m sending you and why . . .”

  “She can help me.” Jolar leaned forward, his hands splayed on the surface of the desk. “She’s a godsdamned Seer, Dacel! If Kav had her with him he might still be alive. Think of the advantage I’ll have!”

  Dacel raised his eyebrows. “You sure she’ll be willing to help you?”

  “She doesn’t have much choice, does she?” Jolar wet his lips. “If I can offer her an ID, a non-telepath one in exchange . . .”

  Dacel slumped back in his chair. “I’m having trouble keeping track of just how many laws we’d be breaking. Concealing a Seer from the proper authorities, forging an ID, deleting official records . . . I’m not even sure I have the resources to make this happen.”

  “I can help with that,” Jolar said grimly, straightening. “I’ll pull in every favor I’m owed to put this together.” His stomach wrenched as he regarded the Zartani Councilor. Dacel was more than a mentor; the man was almost a second father
to him. “I know asking this is endangering our friendship.”

  Dacel waved it away. “Our friendship isn’t on the line here. But I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t remind you of the very real danger to you.”

  Jolar gave a short laugh. “That she’ll frack with my brain, scramble me so I don’t know what’s what.”

  “It’s not a joke.”

  His life debt to her made it an imperative he help her. Tradition—and sacred honor— demanded her life for his and his debt wouldn’t be satisfied till he knew for certain she was safe. Everything in him was screaming at him to protect her.

  He could almost still feel the soft skin of her cheek under his fingers . . .

  Jolar sank into one of the chairs in front of Dacel’s desk, the leather creaking as he sat. “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

  “The New Order eradicated the Seers for a reason. The damage they do to a person’s mind is serious, Jolar. It can be irreversible.”

  He knew he should be afraid. In the two hundred years since the fall of the Tellaran royal house the Seers had been portrayed as power hungry, ruthless, mind-devastating monsters.

  So why can’t I believe that of her?

  Jolar suddenly recalled sitting cradled at his father’s side as a boy, the comforting scent of his father’s study, of polished dalsawood and leather, around him, the weight of the ancient book of paper and binding spread across his lap. Zartan’s bright afternoon sun lit dust particles suspended in the air and, to his young eyes, at least, echoed the lost magic of the old Realm. Over and over Jolar would trace the smooth parchment under his chubby, child’s fingers, looking at the gilded illustrations, captivated as his father recounted stories of the princes and honored Seers of the court and a king who ruled over a golden age . . .

  Jolar signed inwardly.

  Maybe it is just Father and his fanciful tales.

  But maybe I just want more than anything to believe that’s she really is just a frightened young woman with hauntingly beautiful eyes, lost and alone, that I need to protect, need to take care of.

  Jolar passed his hand over his eyes. Oh, frack, I really should be afraid.

  And she’s not the only obligation I have to honor.

  “I understand the risks,” he said gravely.

  Dacel made one final tap on his desk. “All right. She’ll get the non-telepath ID, a fair amount of money and her freedom but only if she helps you—truly helps—or she gets nothing. Make sure she understands.” Dacel’s gray eyes went hard. “Make sure you do too, Jolar. If she impedes your mission in any way—”

  “She won’t,” Jolar said quickly. “My first duty is, as always, to the Realm.”

  And whatever crazy thoughts I’m having about her, whatever this insane attraction is, I can push them aside. I can focus on what I need to do.

  She doesn’t get to me.

  Not ever.

  His comm unit signaled and he pulled it from his pocket. “This is d’Tural.”

  “Jolar,” Jensah’s voice was grim. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Four

  Arissa drew her legs to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees, curled around herself for warmth. Her cell contained the lumpy cot she sat on, a ‘fresher unit and a sink. She’d been locked in here for hours. It was long past midnight now—maybe even the wee hours of the night. Exhaustion was dragging at her but she couldn’t sleep.

  Fleet Security had taken the stolen badge, her clothes and her shoes. The FleetSecs gave her too-large coveralls of cheap, itchy material to wear but they wouldn’t give her a blanket against the chill. She was barefoot; the floor was too icy to rest her feet on and the overhead lights were annoyingly bright, but at least the FleetSecs took the wrist restraints off before they locked her in here.

  The beige walls were bare and there were no windows to the outside. The cell door had a single thick window and every now and again one of the tan uniformed FleetSecs would appear there and peer at her through the plexisteel, but none entered or spoke to her. They wouldn’t respond to her questions either. She wondered why they bothered to do a visual check at all. Surely she was being watched via security eye.

  She wondered bleakly if the reason she was still alive was to give that doctor a chance to study a real live subject.

  Execution or a lifetime of rooming with the blood plague? Hard to say which sounded worse, really.

  Arissa raised her head.

  Someone was coming for her.

  TelSec.

  She swallowed back tears. She’d done a lot of that in the last eight months.

  Her parents had worked so hard, given up so much, just to keep her alive. She hadn’t been able to survive alone for even a year.

  She closed her eyes briefly. I’m sorry. I tried.

  The door lock released and the heavy door slid open.

  Arissa blinked.

  "Surprised a Seer," Jolar said from the doorway. "Guess not many people have ever gotten to say they did that."

  He was alone and she couldn’t sense the guards anywhere nearby either now. "What—what are you doing here?"

  The anger in his sense glowed in his blue eyes. "You were supposed to wait for me. Did you think I wasn't coming back?"

  "I knew you would.” She wet her lips. “I just wasn't sure what you would do when you did."

  "Did it occur to you that whatever I was going to do, I might’ve wanted to do it quietly? You made a real mess for me tonight.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get caught, you know,” she said tiredly. “Your doctor friend must have found me gone and called the gate to stop me.”

  “I called the gate.” His glance went over her. “Did they hurt you?”

  “You called them?” she cried, on her feet now despite the frigid duracrete floor. “Why?”

  “Because tracking you down if you got off the base would take more time than I have. What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “Running like that?”

  Arissa narrowed her gaze. “I was thinking, I need to get the frack out of here!”

  “And then, what? Where you going?”

  She threw her arms out. “To the market! Who cares?”

  “Why?” he asked sharply. “Is there someone there? I know it’s not your parents. They’re dead, right? Eight months ago.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “Yes.”

  “So, is there?” His jaw worked for a moment. “Is there someone? Someone you were going back to?”

  “Why would I tell you? So you can hurt them too?”

  “You would have been just fine if you’d waited for me like you were supposed to. Arissa, this is very important. Does anyone else know about . . . about you?”

  “My uncle on Apovia knows.” She pushed the wild curls behind her ears. “Feel free to hurt him all you want.”

  “I take it you aren’t close.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “No, we’re not close! He came to tell me my parents were dead and I had ‘til morning to clear out. No heirs, of course, except him.”

  “Because you’re supposed to be dead too. I saw the ID scan the FleetSecs took. Kassar, Arissa. Apovia. Died fifteen years ago, at age five.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “Yes.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Why falsify the records to make you deceased?”

  “Because I couldn’t go to school. Because I couldn’t have the telepath screen. No child, means no scans, means no questions.”

  His expression echoed his appalled sense. “Your parents did that to you?”

  “My parents loved me! What were they supposed to do, Fleet? Hand me over to TelSec? Let me be dissected by people like your doctor friend?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “All right. Your uncle, but he won’t be looking for you. Anyone else? Anyone on Tellar who will miss you? Who will come asking questions?”

  “Why do you care?”

  His nostrils flared. “I don’t have time for this! Answer the question or I leave you here right now
.”

  She studied him for a moment then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I owe my landlady back rent on the room,” she said sullenly. “She’s probably already sold everything I left behind and re-rented it.”

  “Anyone else? Someone who—” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “A friend, maybe?”

  “No,” she admitted, her chest tight. “There’s no one.”

  He gave a nod, his tension easing a bit. “The guards have their orders and if there’s no one I have to pay off, no one I have to keep quiet . . . Okay, good.”

  Arissa gave a short, bitter laugh. “Glad I could neaten everything up for you, Fleet.”

  “You should be. I'm leaving for Sertar in an hour. You're going with me."

  She blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  “I just told you,” he said shortly. “You're going with me to Sertar. You’re going to help me.”

  Arissa stared. “Help you? Help you do what?”

  “We really don’t have time for this.” He indicated the door with a nod. “Come on.”

  “And I’m just supposed to go along with whatever this is? How do I know you’re not going to lock me up with the blood plague—or something worse?"

  He pulsed with anger. “Arissa—pretty name by the way, I like it better than Tianna –the plain fact is this: you're going with me and you're going to help me because if you don't they're going to haul you out of this cell in a few minutes and put a blaster bolt though your brain."

  Her mouth parted.

  He held her gaze. “So I need your answer right now—are you coming with me or not?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. "Why?” she asked hoarsely. “You know what I am. Why do anything for me? Why help me?"

  His nostrils flared. “Because I owe you. If you were Zartani you would understand but to put it simply: you gave me my life and now I’m going to give you yours.”

  He was roiling with inner conflict but he meant what he said.

  A lump formed in her throat at how strongly he meant it. So strongly that she knew if TelSec burst in right now he’d block their way and fight to the last breath to keep them from taking her.