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Minder Rising: Central Galactic Concordance Book 2

Page 17

by Carol Van Natta


  “Agent Sòng.”

  He jumped, then turned around to face Security Specialist Mateliff, the hard-edged woman with silver-red eyes and a ferocious shielder talent. She looked tense and alert. Once again, he’d been an idiot, so focused on his work that he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings, or his sifter talent would have felt the moving void of her shields a lot sooner. He fought to keep his face serene and his body relaxed. “Hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Come with me, please. Supervisor Yamazaki wants to see you.” Despite the phrasing, it was not a request.

  “May I lock the comp first?”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  He swiped his thumb over the sensor, and the deskcomp went inert. They’d need his cooperation to figure out where he’d hidden things.

  His heart was pounding as he followed Mateliff through the halls toward the center of the building, past the lift and the stairs. He disciplined himself to contain the frustration and despair that accompanied every step that took him farther away from the information he needed to help Derrit. He consciously relaxed his shoulder muscles and kept his gaze steady.

  “May I ask what this is about?”

  Mateliff grunted. “Interrogation.”

  “Who’s?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Yours, I imagine.” She frowned.

  He didn’t know what they’d found out, but he clung to the hope that he still had wiggle room. If they were certain, Mateliff would have zip-tied his wrists and locked down his talents tighter than a radiation containment field.

  She led him into a room that was unmistakably used for interrogations. He’d seen hundreds of them. Yamazaki and one of the other office agents he vaguely recognized sat in two of the chairs, leaving the third for him. Mateliff nodded once to Yamazaki, then stood next to the door at ready ease. Lièrén’s sifter talent said MacPenn was a cleaner, and he already knew Yamazaki was a telekinetic and a telepath of the illusionist variety.

  “Have a seat, Agent Sòng.” Yamazaki pointed to the chair, and Lièrén complied. “MacPenn here saw you come in after dinner and remembered your background and showed me your file.” He tilted his head toward the narrow-faced, pale blond man. Yamazaki sighed heavily. “We need you for an emergency interrogation and twist.”

  Lièrén blinked. “What?”

  “The recruiters next door created a clusterf… uh, situation, and now they want us to help clean it up.” Yamazaki shook his head and frowned.

  “Bunch of farkin’ lopars,” muttered MacPenn. Mateliff snorted from the doorway in apparent agreement.

  Lièrén was too busy feeling relieved that he wasn’t in the hot seat to care that they thought the Testing Center staff was reckless and careless, and sublimely oblivious of it.

  “Our office is spread really thin with the TSAC march tomorrow. We need to find out what the subject did today, what she knows, and who she told, then make her forget about it. All we have is MacPenn, and while he’s a mid-level cleaner, that’s all he can do. We’d rather not use a sledgehammer when all we need is a good multidriver.”

  Lièrén had never thought of himself as a hand tool. “I’ll be happy to be of assistance.”

  “No time like the present,” said Yamazaki. “We need this off our plate.” He stood, and MacPenn did the same.

  Lièrén stood and followed them down the hall and into the next room, which was full of displays showing bird’s-eye views of empty rooms. Mateliff stopped in the doorway. Yamazaki touched a control, and the multi-room display was replaced with one large one.

  Lièrén’s breath froze in his lungs and spread to the rest of his core. It was Imara Sesay.

  He turned to Yamazaki. “Why is she being detained?” He managed to keep his voice even, and not gasp for air.

  Yamazaki frowned sourly. “The Testing Center says she refused to believe they didn’t have her son, and that she assaulted the intake admin and broke into the testing area looking for him.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Instead of talking her down out of orbit, or calling the local police to have her detained, one of their gung-ho tekes immobilized her, stripped off her percomp, and locked her in a conference room to let her cool off.”

  “Farkin’ lopars,” said MacPenn darkly. Both he and Yamazaki were speaking what they believed to be the truth.

  Yamazaki gave MacPenn a quelling glance, then continued. “They couldn’t call the police, because the ziftheads used minder talents to detain her illegally. And the capper is, when they went to check on her, they discovered she’d jacked the deskcomp and was sending out encrypted pings.” Yamazaki took a quick breath, then let it out slowly. “Now they want us to figure out what she knows, who she contacted, and to ‘fix it.’” He made air quotes with his fingers.

  Lièrén fought to keep his expression neutral and his tone even, despite his raging emotions. “Where is her son?”

  Yamazaki and MacPenn exchanged a look. It was MacPenn who answered. “Every once in a while, the recruiters have to use… extraordinary measures to do what’s best for the kid. He’s got two top-level talents, and he belongs in the Academy, where they can teach him how to handle it. We need skills like that working for the galactic peace and not against us.” His synaptic haze said he wasn’t lying, but his tone and expression said he was conflicted.

  Yamazaki looked up to the ceiling and sighed. “They probably took him offsite somewhere, until the parents calm down.”

  “That’s legal?” asked Lièrén. He couldn’t keep outrage out of his voice.

  Yamazaki and MacPenn exchanged another look, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mateliff clench her jaw. She lost control of her shields for an instant, and he felt the synaptic haze of nascent violence that went with deep anger.

  “It’s a gray area,” Yamazaki finally said. “Anyway, what’s done is done. I got orders from regional to cooperate, so this is me, cooperating. Well, you, actually.” MacPenn shook his head but said nothing.

  Lièrén rolled his shoulders. “What memories do you want the woman to have?”

  “I don’t know,” said Yamazaki with exasperation. “Whatever it takes to get her to do the right thing for her son. We can make the records match later.”

  Lièrén needed more time to think, but wasn’t going to get it. He shook his head. “Since you checked my record, you know I’m barely a mid-level twister, so it may take me a while to get it right. Does she have any minder talents?”

  Unexpectedly, Mateliff spoke up. “She’s a mid-level filer.” When Yamazaki gave her a surprised look, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What, you think I’m letting some stray woman into our perimeter without checking that?”

  Yamazaki put his hands up in a show of surrender.

  Mateliff relaxed and turned to Lièrén. “Her name is Imara Sesay, she’s thirty-seven years old and works two jobs. Her twelve-year-old son is Derrit. Father’s dead.” She shook her head.

  Lièrén sighed. “That’ll make the twist harder. Filer memories have long association threads.”

  MacPenn nodded his agreement.

  Yamazaki rolled his eyes impatiently. “I don’t care if it takes all night, just do it.”

  If Lièrén wasn’t careful, Yamazaki would decide to make use of his sledgehammer instead. Lièrén bowed his head respectfully. “I’ll do my best.” That seemed to satisfy Yamazaki.

  Now all Lièrén had to do was figure out how to save his career, his integrity, Derrit, and Imara, all under the watchful eyes of three experienced CPS field agents.

  CHAPTER 18

  * Planet: Concordance Prime * GDAT 3238.220 *

  One, two, three…

  Imara was counting to one thousand for the nineteenth time, in an effort to keep her thoughts from scattering like a startled herd of sheep. Her hands were clasped in her lap, where she was using minute twitches of her fingers to count by ten. The only furniture in the room was the softly padded, low-backed bench she sat on. She
wondered what the room was for when it wasn’t being used as a detention cell.

  …four, five, six…

  She’d made a tactical error in losing her temper in the Testing Center and trying to take them on by force. Their teke had taken her down so fast, she hadn’t known what hit her, and now she was stuck in a glorified closet to which they’d hastily added temporary camera eyes in every corner to monitor their rebellious visitor. After the incident with the conference room’s deskcomp, she had no doubt those piss-drinking water-wasters would be sending in a telepath to crack her brain. She was pretty damn sure what they were doing was six different kinds of illegal, but her sporadically sparking talents told her they weren’t feeling guilty or even regretful, only annoyed.

  …seven, eight, nine…

  Her biggest fear was that they’d hurt Derrit. She couldn’t think about that, or about what a good cleaner or twister might do to her, so instead, she made half a dozen plans for what to do once she got away. Until she did, her best bet was to delay the CPS as long as possible, and hope her messages got out to the right people. If delaying them meant pretending she was now calm and harmless, then she’d count for as long as it took.

  Because she’d been trying like hell to keep her talents open and active, she felt a brush of something a moment before the door slid open. When she saw the familiar face of Agent Lièrén Sòng, she knew in a sharp spike of terror that she was well and truly farked.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, he closed the distance between them and put his hand on the back of her neck. She tried to raise her shields, but knew it was too late when she suddenly felt really relaxed for the first time since Derrit hadn’t come home. She was still worried, but it wasn’t as mind-numbing as it had been. Despair and fear tried to tear into her, but their claws melted away.

  She was confused when she heard her name, because it wasn’t coming from her ears.

  Imara… Imara… the not-voice said patiently, and she realized it was in her mind. Huh, she thought. So Agent Flux-Hot is also a telepath.

  She felt a momentary twitch of amusement that wasn’t hers. Flux-Hot?

  Rayle’s nickname for you. A new terrible thought threatened her new-found peace, which she knew wasn’t real, but couldn’t do anything about as long as Lièrén’s sifter talent controlled her. Have you come to twist me?

  No. His thought was forceful, and rang true. But the agents observing us think that’s what I’m doing, and we’ll have to fool them.

  We? Of all the scenarios and plans she’d imagined, Lièrén hadn’t been in them. She’d thought he’d be in interstellar transit by now.

  In response, he sent her a quick burst of memories that showed her what the CPS agents wanted. I’m not fast and clever like you are, he said. This is the only thing I could think of to do. It may still be too late.

  Why? More fear bubbled up, but floated away with a gentle ripple that must be his sifter talent working on her.

  Because the Testing Center is determined to have Derrit. He sent her another quick burst, this time of the damning pattern of behavior he’d uncovered about the Testing Center, and the emergency conscription clause it fell under. I don’t know where they’ve taken him, or if he’s still on the planet. He scares them.

  What? He’s a twelve-year-old boy.

  Whose full shields are already unbreachable by anyone in their staff, and whose cleaning talent could blank-slate anyone who tried. Like MacPenn said, they want him on their side.

  Her mind felt muzzy and disconnected, like she’d combined fortified brandy and canab. Why can’t I feel my toes?

  He sent her a wordless apology, and the difference was noticeable almost immediately. She could feel his active talent, too, now that she thought about it.

  You can feel all of them, but you don’t recognize what your sifter talent is telling you yet.

  I have sifter talent?

  Yes, but that’s not important now. If I relax too much control, it’ll show in your face to the people watching. And since I’m supposed to be twisting you, MacPenn will expect to see pain because he knows you’re a filer.

  Would they believe it if I fell sideways into you, so they couldn’t see my face?

  Yes, but let me do it. I know what they’re expecting to see.

  She thought he meant he’d adjust her brain chemicals again, but instead, he took temporary telepathic control of her body. It was weird and made her want to giggle, which she knew was wrong but couldn’t do anything about. She felt herself slump into his arms and against his chest. He smelled really good, and she liked the solid warmth of his chest on her cheek, the comforting weight of his arm across her shoulders.

  Sorry again. Your sifter talent is trying to fight mine. I’m having a hard time keeping you balanced.

  The need to snuggle into him drifted away, and her body was her own again. A rebellious part of her said that enjoying being held by him had nothing to do with whatever he was doing to her.

  Yes, it does, he said. His thoughts were accompanied by musical notes of sadness and guilt, as she’d come to think of the emotions her empath talent picked up.

  Focus, he gently chided her. We’re running out of time. We need a plan.

  Right, she said. Get me out of here intact, find and liberate Derrit, and avoid the emergency draft. Easy as free fall. Her sarcastic comment triggered a synaptic flash and a memory in Lièrén’s mind, and she had a brief glimpse into pain and fear like she’d never imagined. She wanted to soothe him, but didn’t know how. Okay, one step at a time. What do the field office people expect from all this?

  The names of the people you pinged, no memory that you were detained and illegally handled, and that you’ll release your son to the Academy when the time comes.

  She liked how crisp his thoughts were when he sent them to her. Hers were probably a muddy mess by comparison. I don’t want to get the people I pinged in trouble.

  Create an image in your imagination and show it to me. Use your filer talent for detail to make it real.

  He was telling her how to twist him. She tried to pull back from the connection. She didn’t want to twist anyone.

  He sent her a soothing wave. I’m telling you how to lie to me.

  Oh.

  She called up her memory of secure-pinging her lawyer, Rackkar Horis, and Rayle before the really annoyed CPS woman had caught her. Figuring they knew how many pings she sent, she imagined the ping refs of the police, the TSAC office in Spires, and the constituent help line of an agitator politician who despised the CPS. She sent the constructs to Lièrén one at a time, because she couldn’t figure out how to bundle them into memory packets the way he could. She felt his amusement at the politician “memory.”

  If you don’t twist me, will the cleaner guy, MacPenn, be able to tell if he checks?

  Yes.

  Then we’ll have to give him no reason to check. What would convince them everything is fine?

  She could feel him thinking, but he was better at limiting what he shared with her. It was like being in a walled garden outside a house. No way was he a simple admin staffer for a boring trade office.

  You apologizing for causing a disruption, and trusting them to know what’s best for Derrit. You should still want to see him or talk to him, but not be worried that it won’t be until tomorrow.

  She twitched in sour amusement. Farkin’ assholes didn’t want much, did they? What if I offered to sign the release tonight?

  She felt a flare of alarm from him. Giving the Testing Center custody…

  I said ‘offer,’ not actually do it. I’d need my lawyer to review the content.

  The field office would consider it a bonus.

  Will they let me walk tonight?

  I think so. A bit of doubt accompanied the thought.

  She’d have to take the risk. She had one more favor to ask. I don’t want to get you in trouble, but can you help me find where they took Derrit?

  She felt him take a deeper breath, and it sen
t a shimmer of warmth through her, which she shared with Lièrén. She barely stopped a soft vocalization of pleasure. Sorry, you need to re-balance me again. The wave of desire eased off, leaving her feeling empty.

  Yes, I’ll help you find your son.

  The hardest thing Lièrén had ever done in his life was to watch Imara leave. She’d played her part supremely well, and now he had to play his.

  As he walked down the hall with Yamazaki, MacPenn, and Mateliff, he concentrated on keeping his mind serene and his body mimicking the post-twist headache his file said he should have. If he didn’t, Mateliff was sharply observant enough to note the discrepancy and mention it, and MacPenn would suspect what it meant.

  “…saved us a planet’s worth of trouble. I’m going to write a commendation memo for your record,” Yamazaki was saying. MacPenn looked relaxed and satisfied.

  Lièrén bowed his head briefly. “Thank you for the recognition, but it would be better if you didn’t.” He gave them a small smile. “Trade negotiation administrators rarely get noticed for such things.”

  Yamazaki looked puzzled for a second, then nodded. “Oh, yes, I see your point. Well, if you ever need an informal reference, send them my way. It was pure genius, getting her to go for the release.” Lièrén agreed wholeheartedly. Imara had timed her offer just right, and it had her out the door fifteen minutes after he’d left her in the quiet room, lying on the bench, supposedly napping.

  They arrived at the intersection that would take him back to the main operations area and his office and he stopped. “If you have no further need of me, I would like to finish what I started with the Testing Center datasets.”

  Yamazaki waved it away. “That can wait until tomorrow. After a forty-minute sift and twist, you deserve a good night’s rest. Or come out with MacPenn and me now, and I’ll buy you a drink.”

  Lièrén shook his head. “I’d rather finish tonight, if you don’t mind. I may be off-planet by tomorrow.” He clasped his hand behind his back and set his jaw, the picture of a dedicated staffer.

 

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