Warlord 2: The Nobility

by CJ Williams

  It was a question for tomorrow.

  *.*.*.*

  Carrie sat at one of the tables in her pub across from her tutor, an academic looking man in his mid-thirties with bright, intelligent eyes. It was still early; she wouldn’t open for hours.

  “That can’t be all, Haadeu,” she said. “You studied this subject your entire life and you’ve been teaching me for less than three months.”

  Haadeu sighed. “Mistress, you know it’s true. You are a great student, certainly the best pupil I have ever known. And you already surpass my abilities in many areas. I don’t know if you are typical on your home planet, but I have never seen implant capability such as yours.”

  Carrie peered into his mind. By habit he tried to block her probe but his effort was no more than a light breeze against a battering ram. She had learned caution and gentleness under his tutelage. The first few times he coached her on mental probes she had left him breathless, and once with an agonizing headache. That was when he discovered he was not dealing with a normal student.

  She had been lucky to find Haadeu. He taught public administration at a local college and moonlighted for extra income. He advertised as a tutor for those wanting to increase their implant skills as they moved into the mammoth bureaucracy. He offered to teach young people how to deal with VIPs whose implants were far superior to those of most government employees.

  He was skeptical about her offer to pay top rates for instruction, since by that time she had altered her appearance to that of a much older woman. Soon enough he deciphered the phony nature of her appearance but stayed around, as she did pay well.

  “I’m not that special,” Carrie replied. “What I’m saying is when it comes to implants there must be tricks and traps that you inherently know and that I have not thought of. Let’s widen the scope of instruction. I need more than an acceptable performance. I want to attain a degree of mastery that becomes second nature. I’m not there yet. What else should I consider?”

  Haadeu contemplated her suggestion for a moment. “I suppose you could study defensive skills, although that is not my specialty. I could recommend someone.”

  Carrie had not considered that aspect but she liked the idea. The notion of bringing in a new instructor, however, was out of the question. “Why not yourself? You could at least introduce some basic concepts and then we could think about another teacher. You know I am a private person.”

  Haadeu scoffed at her words. “Mistress, I would hardly call you a private person. You are paranoid in the extreme.”

  “Even so.” Carrie didn’t want to argue. “You could start me off.”

  Haadeu pushed back on the idea. There were licensing issues to be wary of. His certification was for teaching professional business skills and he was overly cautious about offending the bureaucracy. His reluctance was the result of an inordinately hierarchical society. Still, she would not deal with a stranger on matters concerning her implant. After more pressure, and an offer to pay a bonus, Haadeu finally agreed to introducing the skill, but only for orientation.

  The next morning found both of them in an outdoor café near the market square. The bitter drink they used for coffee on Japurnam Five didn’t hold a candle to a steamy mocha.

  It made Carrie long for a Starbucks. How can I live for a thousand years without a caramel macchiato? she asked herself. The nostalgic thought added weight to her isolation. She took a sip of the hot drink in front of her and her mind wandered back to Moonbase One.

  During her last stay, Amanda had taken her to another one of the moon’s great coffeehouses, a new one on level fifteen. Roth had gotten tired of standing in line at the two tiny Starbucks restaurants they had at the time. He wanted to open more so he actually went planetside to Seattle to work out a licensing deal. While attorneys fussed over the details, Roth had Ambrose construct a huge combination roastery and coffee palace.

  When Carrie first walked into the facility, it took her breath away. The massive, high-ceilinged room was decorated with everything coffee. Gleaming glass containers, edged with polished brass and copper, were filled with the highest quality coffee from around the world. In the center of the room, huge vats slowly stirred roasting coffee beans. She had ordered a Chilled Sumatran Coconut Milk. It was—

  “Mistress?” Haadeu was gently shaking her wrist. “Mistress?”

  “Oh!” Carrie gasped, brought back to reality. Haadeu gazed at her worriedly. She nodded at him and glared disappointedly at the dark beverage on the table and sighed. “Sorry about that, Haadeu.”

  “You were miles away,” he observed with a smile.

  Carrie shrugged wistfully. “A bit further than that, I’m afraid. What were you saying? I’m with you now.” She gulped some of the lukewarm drink to get her mind back to the topic at hand.

  “I read up on the subject last night,” Haadeu said. “One of my friends in the faculty specializes in mental defense and published an article last year. I used that as a guide.”

  “Okay. Sounds like a good idea,” Carrie agreed.

  “He described it as being similar to bumping into someone in a corridor, like when you accidentally brush shoulders.”

  Carrie nodded at the concept.

  “See those people across the street?” Haadeu gestured toward the crowded sidewalk that lined the market square. “Pick out one individual and imagine giving them a nudge, just a gentle push on the arm.”

  Carrie spotted a young businessman striding a bit arrogantly through the crowd. He could use a little push.

  “Perhaps that laborer,” Haadeu said, interrupting Carrie’s thoughts. “He looks strong.”

  Carrie had already thrust out with her mind but she didn’t see the laborer Haadeu was indicating. She lost her focus but it was too late to pull back. It was like trying to grab a dropped object but accidentally pushing it away even harder. Across the street, a dozen people toppled to the ground as though felled by a giant scythe.

  “Oh no!” Carrie exclaimed. She jumped to her feet in dismay and took a step toward her unintended victims. She needed to make sure they were okay.

  Haadeu grabbed her upper arm in a vise-like grip, preventing her from proceeding. She looked back at him in alarm. He pulled several coins from his pocket and put them on the table. Slinging her purse over his shoulder, he marched her in the opposite direction. A panicked expression had washed over his features.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to break free.

  “Quiet,” he whispered fearfully. “Don’t stop, don’t look back.”

  His urgency was catching and Carrie allowed herself to be hustled from the market area. Haadeu didn’t slow until they were blocks away. Even then he didn’t stop. He transferred his grip to her wrist and dragged her for another block before hailing a taxi.

  “University,” he said to the driverless vehicle. When she started to speak, he hissed vehemently, forcing her to hold her tongue.

  At the university, he hailed a second cab and had them taken to a crosstown shopping center that specialized in women’s fashion where he all but forced her to buy a needless jacket. Finally, they returned to her pub.

  It was almost opening time and he helped her get the bar ready before disappearing. Every time she opened her mouth he hissed again for her to be silent. She was honestly surprised by his fearful reaction. It was starting to seep into her consciousness.

  By that evening the seed of worry her tutor had planted had germinated and grown into a full-blown frenzy of paranoia. At the same time, she chided herself for giving in to such childish terrors. But they’re not really childish, she thought. Sadie’s stern warnings came back to her. She mustn’t highlight herself. Don’t draw attention.

  Carrie sometimes wondered if she should return to the Gimi Foundation and seek help. Maybe it was time to confide to Tolliver there and ask for his guidance. She focused on her customers while mulling the idea in the back of her mind.

  An hour before closing, the door banged open and a ha
lf-dozen men in dark uniforms barged in. The lively chatter died away and her patrons eyed the intruders suspiciously. The men wore government insignia on their sleeves and collars. The leader strode to the bar.

  “Bring me your Tolliver!” he barked.

  Carrie felt a mental probe and controlled her impulse to shut him out. She had prepared for such moments many times since being abandoned and practiced regularly with Haadeu.

  She relaxed her defenses and allowed the investigator to explore her mind freely, or so he would think. She had created a special cabinet in the forefront of her brain where a brief examination would reveal that she was who she said she was; an old woman expatriate who by mischance had wound up in a place far from her planet of birth. That so much of it was true made it an easy sell.

  While the man probed her background, Carrie did the same. He was a captain in the local secret police. They were investigating Haadeu. He was known to be an instructor in the talent of mental implants, one of the few who were. He was therefore a suspect for an incident at the local market where fifteen people had been struck down. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief to see in the captain’s mind that there were no serious injuries.

  The captain flashed a badge in front of her eyes. His name was Bimil. “Where’s Tolliver?” he demanded again.

  “That would be me,” she replied equably. “What can I do for you, Captain Bimil?” She set a mug of beer on the counter. “One for your men as well?”

  “You are Carrie Faulkner?” he asked, reading from his notepad.

  “I am.”

  “That’s an uncommon name on this world. Sounds like a man.”

  Carrie shrugged. “Not on mine, Captain. Not much I can do about it now.”

  “We’re looking for Teacher Haadeu. Do you know the man?”

  “He is my tutor,” Carrie answered. “He is teaching me how to better use my implant.”

  “You?” The Captain was scornful. “To what purpose?”

  Carrie gestured to the room in general. “None of us are getting any younger, Captain. This pub won’t support me forever. I want to get my foot in the government trough like you and your men. It would be an easier life, I think. Better than putting up with foul-mouthed customers every evening.” She kept her expression bland, fearing she was on the verge of insolence.

  The captain glared at her angrily.

  One of her patrons called out. “Leave Tolliver alone.” His comment was echoed by a chorus of other male voices. “She’s harmless and serves a good drink at a fair price.” Carrie felt her customers’ resentment toward the police and she winked at the man who spoke aloud in her favor.

  The captain gave in. His expression reflected distaste in finding nothing here but an old woman tending bar. “You may want to rethink your choice of tutor,” he said before turning and stomping out.

  “Good riddance,” her champion crowed loudly, well after the policemen had departed, bringing forth a volley of cheers.

  Carrie laughed and said to all in the room, “The next round is on the house, and thank you for your patronage.” That won her even more cheers and the daily chatter picked up again. The matter was forgotten and she overheard only a few questions bantered back and forth about the whys and wherefores of the sudden intrusion.

  While the barmaid refilled her customers’ mugs, Carrie focused on polishing the top of the bar. Mentally, she concentrated on her tutor. Haadeu, she sent out forcefully.

  Mistress? came his startled reply. Where are you? How are you doing this?

  Carrie brushed aside his questions and told him about the visit by the secret police. Are you okay? she asked.

  He was fine at the moment but was aware of the official investigation. He was at a friend’s house and scared to death. Carrie could detect enough panic in his mind that she realized he was no longer safe with her secret; at least not in this town.

  Carrie conferenced the planetary AI into the mental conversation. JF307, transfer ten thousand credits into Teacher Haadeu’s bank account. Make sure the secret police remain unaware of the money or where it came from.

  The AI responded mechanically. Acknowledged. Transfer complete.

  Haadeu was shocked by the sudden windfall and Carrie’s ease in parting with such a large sum.

  Relax, Haadeu, Carrie sent to him calmly, trying to smother his alarm. This is my fault. I should have listened to you. Take this money and leave the city. Do you have someplace you could go that’s away from here?

  He did. An uncle near the sea often invited him to come live on his farm and teach for the local community.

  Leave now, Carrie advised him strongly. Don’t go back to your place or tell anyone where you’re going. Just get up and walk out. The wisdom of her suggestion registered with the tutor and he was out the door before he finished sending her his thanks.

  Carrie sighed. One problem solved, at least for the moment. What else could be coming out of the blue? She tended to her customers, but a cloud of worry hovered in the back of her mind.

  With the pub finally emptied for the night, Carrie finished the ritual of closing and prepared the bar for the next morning. She performed the duties on autopilot while mentally reviewing the implications of the day’s activities.

  Was she in danger? In her room, she admitted to herself the obvious answer. Of course she was! I’m an alien being on an unfamiliar planet. The sudden run-in with the police had been a surprise, and it made her take stock in her situation.

  She had been working to lessen her risk. Part of that effort was to not rely solely on the continued financial largess of the defunct monarchy. Carrie had been embezzling from her own business since day one. She used her royal credit to pay for all goods that she purchased for the pub, but stored the proceeds in hard cash in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. I’ve got a tidy nest egg if it becomes necessary, she thought, while adding the day’s takings to her strongbox.

  There was more she could do. She had been putting it off but this might be the time to reconsider her procrastination. After her dinner, exercise, and a shower, she went to her wardrobe and pulled a cardboard box from the top shelf. Placing it on her bed, she reviewed the contents once more.

  They were the only leftovers from Sadie; her so-called personal effects that Sadie had left behind. The box had been waiting for her at the spaceport. Tolliver had it in his office when she’d arrived, little more than an hour after Sadie had departed.

  The man obviously had a lot of questions, but left them unasked. No doubt one of them would have been, “Why the heck did your yacht take off without you?”

  Carrie had accepted the box after paying another invoice for additional handling services. Tolliver never brought up the question of refunding the unused hangar rent and Carrie was afraid to ask for it. In the end, she didn’t care. Her credit balance had proven to be exactly what Sadie had promised—unlimited funds.

  Carrie peered inside the cardboard box. When she first opened it, there were three items within. The most important was Teeny Jim, who now adorned a place of honor in the pub downstairs. The second item was a solid block of plastic about the size of a paperback novel; Carrie had no idea what it was for.

  The third and most perplexing item was the matchbox-sized container. She had seen one very much like it on two previous occasions. Inside was an earpiece. It was another implant that to all appearances was exactly like the others she had inserted into her skull.

  There was no indication what the implant was for, or why Sadie had left it behind. Initially, Carrie worried it might be a suicide pill to tie up a loose end named Carrie Faulkner. But after months of thinking about it, she decided that Sadie would not do that to her…probably. But then, what was it?

  If it wasn’t a death sentence, perhaps it was simply a severance check. Here’s a final deposit to your bank account, but you lose access to the royal piggy bank.

  Or might it disable her seemingly advanced implant abilities? Sadie had indicated that anonymity was Carrie’s bes
t defense against discovery. Were her advanced abilities highlighting her position to unseen authorities? Judging from the visit today from the secret police, that might be the case.

  Or maybe I’m overthinking the question. Carrie couldn’t decide. It might be the next level in implant technology, or maybe just a goodbye letter.

  Carrie sighed. The problem was, there was no way to tell beforehand. If she wanted to know, she had to put it in her ear and see what happened.

  With the possibility that she might be under investigation by the secret police, maybe this wasn’t a good time to experiment with the unknown. On the other hand, it might be just the thing to ensure her safety.

  She took a deep breath and let it out in one big whoosh. “Okay, Sadie,” Carrie said aloud. “I’m going to trust you one more time.”

  She pulled the device out of the box and stuck it in her right ear. After a few seconds, her scalp tickled and the implant melted into her skin, just as it had twice before.

  Hello, Carrie.

  Sadie’s mental voice was surprisingly affectionate. The words held a faint hint of echo in the background, as though it was a recorded message. Thank you for trusting me. Let me say once again, I’m sorry to abandon you in this fashion, but my programming protocols make it impossible to ignore this new command. I am being summoned by the king; or at least, under the king’s authority. More on that later.

  I’m leaving you with three objects that I hope you will find useful.

  First, the block of plastic. It is a complete design specification package for a new space yacht. Just insert it into the control module of an industrial replicator and it will take care of the rest.

  The problem is there are no commercial replicators on Japurnam Five that are capable of handling such a large object. Perhaps when you find the princess, she may have such capability. If not, I am sure she can assist you in locating one.

  The new yacht will be identical to me except that it will not have an AI as you are familiar with. In that way, it cannot be overridden by any other AI device of any level.

  I did give the autopilot system a human interface which I hope will provide you with a measure of comfort. Simply instruct it where to go and it will do the rest. The navigation system will understand your Milky Way Alliance grid reference destinations and the star system names used by the Nobility.