The Seer

by MacArran, Ariel

  “I should like to,” Arissa said carefully. The sun had nearly set and as far as she stretched her senses she couldn’t feel Jolar nearby. “Has Commander d’Tural returned yet, Councilor?”

  He tapped the desk lightly as he straightened. “No, but I understand he will be here shortly and I’m sure—Oh, just a moment,” d’Barat said as his comm unit signaled. He turned, reaching across the desk to retrieve it. He took a moment to reply to the message then shut it off and slipped it into his pocket. “I am afraid that my responsibilities call me elsewhere, Mistress Legan. But if you will come with me, I will show you to your quarters on my way out.”

  “Yes,” Arissa said, eager to be away from him. “I would very much like that.”

  He indicated that she should precede him out of the office and he closed the door behind them.

  “Lord d’Tural was very concerned about your safety,” d’Barat said gravely, and he clasped her elbow. “Is there anything I should know about? Any extra measures my staff should take?”

  “No,” Arissa said. His grip on her arm was just at the edge of being uncomfortable and she found herself leaning away from him. “I’m sure the ZarSec officers will make sure no one gains entry to the embassy grounds.”

  “Absolutely,” d’Barat assured. “Our security is very tight and especially now. No one enters without an ID scan and everyone is required to carry a security card to move about the grounds.”

  “Why especially now?”

  “After Councilor de’Par’s death we instituted new security protocols.”

  “Of course,” she murmured.

  Rekan led her down another level and across a suspended bridge overlooking the courtyard below. He gave a wave to the ZarSecs waiting there next to a shuttle.

  He took her down a long hall and stopped before an open door.

  “Here we are,” d’Barat said, only releasing her arm when they were inside. “I think you will find it very pleasant.”

  They were actually very nice living quarters. Her things had already been brought here and the little apartment contained a well-appointed living area, small kitchen and bedroom. It even had a private balcony.

  “I’ve had the kitchen stocked for you. You may wish to rest while you wait for Lord d’Tural’s return.” The Councilor gave her a regretful smile. “I apologize, Mistress Legan, but there’s a shuttle waiting for me. I really must go.”

  “I understand.” Arissa glanced around the room. “I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here. Thank you, Councilor.”

  “Of course.” He bent his head to her and left, closing the door behind him.

  She held up the security card she’d palmed off his desk. “Thank you very much indeed.”

  Arissa stood at the doorway of her private balcony to watch d’Barat’s shuttle leave. He’d locked her in, of course. The balcony was too high to jump and there was no way to climb down.

  But then again, she didn’t need to.

  As soon as the shuttle passed from sight she was through the living room. With a quick swipe of his security card she had the door open. A moment later she was out in the hallway easing the door shut behind her.

  Her heart was hammering as she listened with both ears and mind. It was quiet and she sensed no one nearby. Clearly d’Barat had housed her where he was sure there was no one about to hear her hammering on the door. Perhaps if she had stood on the balcony and screamed long enough someone would eventually come to her aid.

  Which meant either he didn’t expect her to discover she was locked in so soon or he didn’t expect whatever he was doing to take long. If he had, he would have done a better job of keeping her imprisoned.

  And wherever Jolar was now, he was in danger.

  Arissa took quick stock of her assets. She was wearing casual day clothes of belted tunic and pants and slippers. She had d’Barat’s security pass and her newly honed Seer senses.

  She also had the nearly twenty-five thousand credits she’d won playing tongo.

  They brought her luggage to the room but while the cash Jolar had insisted she keep was there, the little blaster he’d given her was missing. Someone had also deactivated the uplink in her quarters so she couldn’t just call for help. She didn’t want to risk calling from somewhere else inside the embassy either.

  She needed to get back to Bruscan.

  She headed down the hall. A few moments later she was in the stairwell. She made it to the ground floor undetected thanks to d’Barat’s security card.

  She sensed someone and ducked back into a doorway as whoever it was opened a door further down and closed it again.

  Now she just had to find a way out of the embassy.

  Closing her eyes, she reached with her Seer senses as far as she could.

  To her right people were moving about. Slowing her breath she counted out six people. Their minds were occupied and they were a bit tired too.

  She had never tried such a deep mind probe like this with anyone but Jolar. She reached out and deliberately sent her focus into one mind . . .

  Through his eyes she could see all around a large gleaming kitchen. Other workers labored nearby, they were finishing up for the evening, the smell of cleanser filled the man’s nostrils. One woman turned and spoke to another and then a moment later swiped a card to open the door to the outside.

  Arissa changed her focus and sent it now in the other direction, toward the gate. There were a few ZarSecs there on guard and one felt very familiar. She reached out and brushed his mind . . .

  Lieutenant de’Rec, her ZarSec escort from Bruscan’s house.

  Even if he doesn’t know I’m supposed to be locked in my quarters, he won’t let me just walk out of here.

  Back door it is.

  This had almost worked on Tellar. She prayed it would work here.

  She was just going to walk out.

  She wet her lips and went into the kitchen.

  There were five workers left here and only two looked up with questioning looks. She threw the men a smile and kept her feet moving. Her hands were shaking when she reached the door. She swiped the security card.

  It didn’t work.

  Oh, gods.

  She tried again.

  Come on, come on!

  She was gathering attention from the remaining staff. She could feel one of them approaching behind her and frantically she tried swiped again.

  “Card not working?”

  She turned around to see a heavyset man in his middle years, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He was better dressed than the others and had an air of authority to him.

  He jerked his chin at her. “You don’t look Zartani.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I’m—my husband is. He got me a job here.”

  “I haven’t seen you before.”

  “Well, I just started in the administration department a few days ago.” She gave a half-shrug. “I guess that’s why my card keeps giving me trouble.”

  “Why don’t you go through the main entrance?”

  “This time of day? You know how the ZarSecs are. They always want to make small talk. I’m really tired and I just wanted to go home.”

  He searched her face.

  Arissa forced a smile.

  “This door’s a bit finicky. You have to swipe the pass just right.” He leaned forward to use his own card then pushed the door open for her. “Just ask one of us to open it next time.”

  “Oh,” Arissa managed. “I will. Next time. Thanks!”

  Arissa plunged out into early Sertarian evening. Intended for foodstuffs deliveries to the kitchen, this door was a few short steps from the rear wall and her purloined pass opened the service gate. Fortunately the Zartani, hailing from such a wealthy world, had procured for themselves property for their embassy in one of the better parts of Tano.

  Unfortunately that meant a neighborhood without any shuttles or groundcars for hire. She could see a grouping of brighter lights about a kilometer north. But she’d have to get there
on foot.

  The sun had set and it was starting to cool off quickly as Arissa trotted along.

  There wasn’t any foot traffic and the area was clearly not designed with pedestrians in mind. She clung to the edge of the road fearful that in the gathering darkness she would be struck by one of the groundcars speeding past. Likely if she were they wouldn’t even stop.

  The glow of lights was a grouping of eateries. A number of people were coming and going and she spied a single battered looking shuttle. The driver inside was glancing about, scanning the crowd and, hopefully, looking for a fare.

  She hurried toward the shuttle, out of breath. Leaning into the open passenger side window, she asked, “Are you for hire?”

  The driver’s white mustache was stained yellow and he stank of sarrat smoke. He looked her over briefly. “Where you headed?”

  Arissa gave him the location of Bruscan’s house.

  “It’ll be a hundred – cash not scan. You got that much, girl? That don’t include tip.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ll call SerSec if you try to stiff me.”

  “I’ve got it,” she promised.

  She could feel him weighing it but then he gave a nod. “Get in.”

  She climbed inside, pulling the door shut behind her. “Just get me there fast.”

  He shrugged, powering up the shuttle. “Fast as I can.”

  She wrinkled her nose at the pungent smoky smell. The interior was none too clean either. She strapped in, chewing at her lip.

  With Bruscan’s connections and resources he would be able to get to Jolar.

  It was a short ride and Arissa closed her eyes briefly in gratitude when she saw the lights of Bruscan’s house below.

  She unstrapped as the shuttle landed in the courtyard and held out the hundred to the driver, already reaching for the door only to find he’d locked it.

  “Five hundred creds,” the pilot said.

  “What?” Arissa cried. “You said one hundred!”

  “One to let you in.” He smirked. “Four hundred to let you out.”

  I don’t have time for this! Furious, she counted out five hundred and handed it to him but not fast enough. He saw that she had still more.

  She peeled off more bills and pushed them at him. “That’s another three hundred. Now open the fracking door!” She gritted her teeth when she felt him weighing it. “Open the door or you can explain to SerSec why you’re harassing one of Bruscan Milin’s guests. I’m sure they’ll be happy to show you how a stun pike works.”

  He gave a snort and jammed his finger at the door control.

  She was out before the door was open all the way.

  “You want me to wait?” he called.

  After a five-minute ride costing eight hundred creds?

  She threw him a disgusted look. “No! Go rob someone else!”

  He gave a shrug. She heard the shuttle lifting off just as she was running across the courtyard. The security system must have already identified her as she approached and lowered the pulse gate. From the number of lights on it was plain that at least someone was home. And Nela could summon Bruscan back from wherever he was if he’d gone out.

  Arissa threw open the door of Bruscan’s house to find that Nela wouldn’t be calling anyone.

  Her body, hideous with blaster wounds, lay sprawled in the ruin of Bruscan’s foyer.

  Arissa’s mouth parted in horror she took in the destruction. There were blaster holes everywhere, the artwork smashed, torn or burned. This was an act of utter rage.

  Arissa took a step back to flee.

  But someone was in the house, still alive . . .

  Whoever was inside was surprised but not in pain. Shakily she took a few steps inside and went past Nela’s body. Two other of Bruscan’s servants lay in the living area.

  Too shaken to focus well she reached out clumsily with her mind. One person. A man, just inside the office. And she didn’t detect any anger from him or the kind of fury that could have done this.

  She wet her lips. “Bruscan?”

  In the hall outside Bruscan’s office she had to skirt the chef’s body. The woman lay face up in the hall, her eyes wide and staring.

  “Bruscan? It’s Arissa.”

  The door to the office opened.

  Arissa’s breath froze as she met his cold flat eyes.

  Then, as if reminding himself to do so, Larner Tovic smiled.

  Thirty

  Snarling, Jolar took a step toward Jasa, his fingers clenched into fists and Jasa quickly brought the blaster up.

  Jolar stopped short, breathing hard, the muzzle of Jasa’s weapon a scant inch from his left cheekbone.

  His eyes narrowed. “So help me gods, if you hurt Arissa I will kill you.”

  “Hurt her?” Jasa scoffed. “As long as I have her, I have you.” She gave a little smile. “Perhaps, if you behave yourself, I’ll even let you see her tonight. Step back, darling.”

  Jolar’s heart hammered as he ran through his options. Even the most powerful of telepaths were never reputed to hear thoughts from this kind of distance and she had scarcely started learning to focus her abilities.

  There was no way to warn her, no way to reach her, not telepathically . . .

  He glanced at the weapon in his face and forced himself to ease back. In response Jasa lowered the blaster but kept it pointed at his chest.

  “You must have known I was sending her to the Zartani embassy as soon as I contacted her,” Jolar said. “You have people there, don’t you?”

  “We have people everywhere.”

  “Everywhere? Are other worlds are going to be crowning princes?” He jerked his chin toward the windows, taking the opportunity to do a quick visual of the sitting room. No comm units that he could see, no other blasters visible. “How many?”

  Jasa smiled. “Other than Zartan and Sertar? Three.”

  “You’ll fail,” he said harshly. “You can’t take the whole Realm with only five worlds.”

  “You can if you cripple the Fleet.”

  His head came up. “Danlen was working for you.”

  “With me,” Jasa said. “Danlen’s crystals are installed on every Fleet ship from Utavia to Rusco. We will disable any ship whose crew doesn’t pledge loyalty to us. It may be as many as two thirds unfortunately. But as we will allow commerce to continue only to planets that accept the monarchy’s return it won’t be long before the other worlds are forced to concede.”

  Jolar folded his arms. “You really think Fleet crews are going to pledge their loyalty to you?”

  “Why should they care which flag they follow?” Jasa scoffed. “Has the New Order done so much for them? For any of us? We won’t destroy their ships or take their lives. They’ll get their pay same as always, their retirement. Besides,” she added, her gaze running over him. “The Zartani prince is one of their own.”

  Jolar’s mouth tightened, recalling how he’d once told Arissa that Fleet people would put up with anything as long they got their pay and caf.

  Jasa might just be right.

  “Three other worlds.” He took a casual step toward the sitting door her guards had gone through. “One of them must be Utavia. Who’s the Utavian prince?”

  “Broc Attar.” Her lip curled. “Cowardly fool, always needing handholding and reassurances! The man was not fit to rule. Just as well someone killed him. ”

  Jolar raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t kill him?”

  “Of course not.” She gave him an impatient look. “He was our ally, Jolar.”

  “Your ally,” he corrected. “Is that why he was on Sertar? To meet with you?”

  She raised one delicate shoulder. “What better place than Sertar to coordinate our efforts?”

  “I imagine Broc’s the one who provided the Utavian guards you’ve got out there.”

  “A veritable army of loyal Utavians in exchange for Zartani wealth to buy food and medicine for his tribe. Though Attar took more than his fair share of those credits, if you ask me. Thank th
e gods he did us the favor of leaving heirs. The eldest has the promise to become a great leader and he’s only seventeen. I regret it took us so long to bring this to its conclusion.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “You would have grown into your own as prince by now if you’d been crowned at seventeen, Jolar.”

  His jaw clenched. “Instead of wasting my time working my butt off in the Fleet.”

  “No,” she said mildly. “I think it was time well spent. You sowed your oats on a dozen worlds before you were well known and that will save me some embarrassment. You matured. You worked your way up the ranks without benefit of your birth, that will help win the commoners and the Fleet ships to your side.”

  “Glad I could do my part,” he fairly spat.

  A rueful smile touched her mouth. “In only one thing did you disappoint—myself and your father both. We were sure you would fall in love with me.”

  “You must have been very displeased,” he said bitterly. “How much simpler it would have been to manipulate me if I’d loved you.”

  Jasa gave an unapologetic shrug. “It would have made things easier for us all, I think. I knew, as your father did, that when you fell you would fall hard. And you did.” She sighed. “Just not for me. You would have accepted the crown for love. Then, having taken the throne, you would have learned how well it suited you. I think you would have been happier as prince. But we’ll make do with what we have.”

  “That crown doesn’t belong to me, Jasa,” he said. “It doesn’t belong to anyone anymore.”

  “Oh,” she said softly. “It belongs to you all right. By birthright, by blood, by our hard work and sacrifice. It’s yours. Maybe you can’t see it yet but you will. This is right, Jolar. We are going to return order and beauty to the Realm.” Her eyes were aglow. “Think about it! The greatest of our achievements as a people happened under the monarchy. The New Order has just brought danger and shortsighted opportunists with no care for how their actions will impact future generations. A return to the old ways will give the Realm the stability, the care and direction it needs to flourish again.”

  He swallowed. In many ways she was right about the New Order but he believed in the ideals of the republic. And while he could never agree with her methods or her goals, he couldn’t help but admire her conviction.