Minder Rising: Central Galactic Concordance Book 2

by Carol Van Natta

  When she’d asked around about Representative Wazner, the consensus of opinion said she was an ineffectual older woman who was looking forward to her planned retirement on a “civilized” planet. That suited the locals just fine.

  Conventional wisdom in the Concordance said frontier planets were rampantly prejudiced against minders, but at least on Abasarran, no one gave a damn one way or the other. They were more concerned about making a new life in a new world, building a sustainable infrastructure, figuring out how to profitably preserve and manage the vast forest lands, and getting out from under the stifling terraforming and settlement company debts as soon as possible. If a little telekinetic push on an energy converter’s connector or a plant affinity talent for finding rare, valuable fungi in the forest got the job done more quickly, all the better. No one talked about their pasts much, but she and Derrit weren’t the only minders on Abasarran who’d slipped through the claws of the CPS.

  She pinged her arrival for the meeting from the aircar, then spent a few seconds banking down her talents and solidifying the one-way glass shields around her mind. Imara didn’t know what Wazner’s talents were, but if the woman wanted to snoop, she’d have to work for it.

  The wide entrance the CPS’s prefab building was always open because of the minder clinic that took up the whole first floor. She rode the lift to the smaller second floor and stepped into the vestibule.

  A phantom brush against the edge of her talent put her on alert as she followed the lighted display down the short wide hall to the right. The double doors at the end slid open to reveal a round-looking woman wearing sandals, a delicate, frothy sheathe, and an actual string of pink pearls. She looked like she was ready for a summer garden party instead of a business meeting. Imara sensed a hint of what she thought might be filer talent from the woman.

  “Right on time. I’m Vivian Wazner.” She smiled as she stood back and ushered Imara into the large, airy, but seriously under-furnished office, and gestured to the man seated behind the large, centered desk.

  Tomorrow had arrived a day early.

  Imara fought to keep her face calm and her body relaxed. She should be irritated, because she and Derrit had all sorts of plans, but she could adapt.

  “Road Construction Chief Imara Sòng, I believe you may know Agent Lièrén Sòng, or should I say, CPS Representative Lièrén Sòng. He’s my replacement, starting today.”

  Imara nodded politely, waiting for a cue from Lièrén. He stood and matched her polite nod.

  Wazner’s smile faded into puzzlement. She fluttered her hand and looked back and forth between them. “I’m, uhm… with the same family name, I’d assumed you might know each other…”

  Lièrén smiled sympathetically. “It’s understandable. The Sòngs are spread on many worlds. It would be unlikely for us all to have met one another.”

  “Oh, that explains it,” she said dubiously. She gave them a weak smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to your first meeting, then.” Brightening, she added, “I have a farewell party to attend, and since I’m the guest of honor, it wouldn’t do for me to be late.” She gathered her things from the only visitor chair in the room, told Lièrén she’d see him later, and was gone, leaving a cloud of floral perfume in her wake.

  Imara hardly noticed, too busy drinking in the sight of Lièrén. She didn’t know why she thought he might have changed, since it had only been five months since she’d left Spires. His clothes were casually conservative, and his hair was a little longer, but his handsome face and eyes dark enough to drown in were exactly as she’d remembered.

  As soon as the doors closed, Imara took a step toward him, then hesitated and looked up at the corners of the room. “Are we being monitored, Representative Sòng?”

  He shook his head. “Representative Wazner said no system was installed. She’s a high-level filer and saw no need for it, though she did budget for it, per policy. I agreed that it was good to follow policy.”

  Imara relaxed and allowed a wide grin to take over her face. “I’d forgotten how good you are at that.” She took a slow step toward him.

  “At what, Chief Sòng?” he asked, stepping out from behind the desk and toward her.

  She met him halfway and held out her hands to him. “Lying with the truth,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  He took her hands in his and pulled her close, lowering his face toward hers, and inviting her into his mind. Their thoughts wrapped together as he kissed her deeply and thoroughly. He tasted of black spiced tea and Lièrén.

  I hadn’t forgotten how good a kisser you are. She set her talents free to mesh with his.

  I’ve missed you more than I can say. He wrapped her in his arms, and she sank into his warmth, sliding her hands up his solid, well-muscled back. It felt like coming home.

  A worry surfaced in her thoughts. Are we going to have to hide our relationship?

  Just from Wazner, until she leaves for Prime Vaeros tomorrow. It would be better if she didn’t mention anything interesting about me in her transfer-of-authority report.

  How long have you been here? Derrit and I made elaborate plans to welcome you tomorrow. She made an effort to hide the details behind her containment so they could still surprise him.

  He sent her a wordless apology. About two hours. You may thank Sòng Tiān Cì for my early arrival. When he said he’d provide transport from Concordance Prime, I didn’t know it would be him personally piloting his racing yacht. I believe he secretly breaks the laws of physics. My own impatience to see you brought me from Prime Vaeros on the first available flitter. I didn’t anticipate Wazner’s eagerness to leave.

  She chuckled. Ah, the yacht. Your great-grandfather is sun struck, like every other forecaster I’ve ever met. Ask Derrit to tell you about the ritual he insisted every Sòng adoptee go through. It involves singing risqué songs and wearing winter solstice tinsel.

  You didn’t mind the… proposal to join the family trust, then?

  She felt the trepidation behind his thoughts, and the worry that she’d resent the obligation to him and his very wealthy family. She tightened her arms around him and twined her mind deeper with his. It seems I was fated to fall in love with a man who is honorable, loving, and does the right thing even when it costs him dearly, and who also happens to be one of the crazy-like-a-fox Sòngs. It’d be stupid to spit in the eye of fate.

  “I love you,” he murmured. “You and your son.” The warm pressure of his breath in her ear sent a tremor through her.

  “We know. It’s what’s kept us going.” She gave him one more kiss and stepped back, though she slid her hand into his. She wasn’t ready to relinquish their connection just yet. “So, what does the CPS expect you to do here?”

  Her directness was a breath of fresh air, especially after five months of playing n-dimensional chess with the CPS and the media, and acting the part of martyred saint, as his advocate had described it.

  “Not much, and everything.” He caressed her calloused palm with his finger. He reveled in the pleasure of touching her, of being so close, he could smell the soap in her damp, still crazy hair. He wanted to remove the tie and bury his face in the liberated locks. “It seems some of my former trade office coworkers were fluxing their personal cashflow accounts by influencing the results of negotiations in favor of the highest bidder.”

  It was the official story he’d been directed to repeat. The CPS might have gotten away with quietly spacing their dirty laundry out the airlock, but the Mabingion Purge story, coupled with the TSAC march debacle, had resulted in increased scrutiny of CPS activities. Media companies began questioning the high number of recent CPS staffer deaths that all pointed to the same obscure trade office.

  “The Office of Internal Inquiry fully exonerated me, but as long as I was in the Concordance, I was a constant, visible reminder of the scandal, and the target of near-daily interview requests from news reporters. My regional supervisor believes I am innocent, but that I am rather naïve, and not a good enough liar
to fool the press. She and the OII agreed I should be reassigned, for the remainder of my contract, to a less accessible, quiet post where I’ll have the opportunity to broaden my experience. The upcoming vacancy on Abasarran came to their notice, and here I am.”

  Imara laughed out loud. “‘Came to their notice’? You devious man, you played them like a fiddle.” Her laugh washed through him like healing waters.

  He smiled and shrugged modestly. “I had help. My sister and great-grandfather are very crafty. I’ve been led to infer that if I do what the CPS wants, I’ll be rewarded for my cooperation with a better post later.”

  “What does the CPS want?”

  “Officially, I’m the CPS representative on Abasarran, available for consultation when minders or Jumpers are involved, or if the planetary government would like to engage with the CPS. I supervise the local minder clinic and the larger one in Prime Vaeros, and provide support for occasional CPS visitors. I’ll have to travel some. The CPS offers free trips to a Concordance planet for people who want minder testing.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “The CPS believes it’s in the best interests of the galactic government for frontier planets to aspire to Concordance membership. I am to use my skills in keeping Abasarran on that path.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Not your talents?”

  He so loved a smart woman, especially the one in front of him. “Regrettably, since the nearly fatal flitter accident that killed my partner, my talents have tested sub-par. It is hoped that one of the Abasarran minder clinics can design a different enhancement drug protocol that will help.” He’d tell her later about how he’d learned to mislead the talent testing instruments and how he planned to handle the required periodic drug testing. He wanted as few secrets from her as possible, though some were unavoidable.

  She sighed and melted into his arms. “Do we really have to talk about the traffic system? I only know what I read in the reports.”

  He laughed. “No, I was going to reschedule the meeting for next week. Then I heard you were attending instead of your manager, and couldn’t resist fate.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “I know I keep saying it, but I missed you. Derrit, too.”

  Short coded messages through Rayle, and a few longer ones disguised as boring Sòng family business, had been better than nothing, but he’d felt like he’d never be warm again until she was in his arms.

  “I missed a lot of things, at first, but you most of all.” She drew back and looked up at him. “Do you have a place to stay yet? Our home has space for you. Derrit and I planned it that way.” Through their deepened connection, he felt her hesitation, that she didn’t want to pressure him or presume too much.

  He smiled and let her feel how much her offer meant to him. “Nothing would make me happier, but you may not want me as a partner until I’ve learned a few things.”

  “Such as?”

  She’d built a house from scratch, and made a home for her and her son. Her road-crew experience made her a valued member of the community. He’d lived a life of room service and restaurants, and knew how to interrogate computers and people, then twist their memories of it. Not exactly useful skills for frontier life.

  “How to drive ground-based vehicles, or how often to change bed sheets, or how to operate a recycler, or…” He didn’t even know what other things to mention.

  She was shaking with laughter in his arms. “Or?” she prompted.

  “Or… how to boil water. According to Derrit, it’s an important domestic skill.”

  She gave him a quick kiss. “Your ‘office’ skills might be more useful than you think. I’m sure we can work a trade. You can teach Derrit and me to use our talents, and we’ll make sure you don’t crash the ground sled or starve while you’re learning.”

  He shook his head. He was pretty sure they were getting the short end of the stick, but he wasn’t going to complain. “What time were you expecting me tomorrow?”

  “We didn’t know, so we took the whole day off.”

  “If it’s convenient, you could come for me at the hotel any time after eleven, when Wazner’s flight leaves.” There was only one hotel in town, so he didn’t need to tell her the coordinates.

  “We’ll be there. Don’t eat lunch. Derrit’s cooking.” She smiled. “How much luggage do you have?”

  “Not much. I didn’t know what I’d need, other than a corporate suit or two for…” He shrugged one shoulder.

  “Meeting expectations?” Amusement laced her tone. “We’ll tell you what to order from the autotailor in Prime Vaeros, though I’ll always have a soft spot for the flyboy look. I liked you in the sexy, tight, black snap tunic. And out of it.” It was the tunic he’d been wearing the night he’d been mugged. Or set up to be murdered, if he believed Nothenil. He shook the thought off.

  “I gave it to Rayle, but I can order another.” He put it at the top of his mental to-do list. “Rayle sends his regards, by the way, and several wrapped presents.”

  Imara smiled. “Knowing him, at least one of them is a box of sex toys.”

  Lièrén grinned. “That would explain the proposition I got from the spaceport entry inspector.”

  “What do you think of his new lover, Detective Hǎinán? The only details I ever get from Rayle are about his shows. Impossible man.”

  “He’s good for Rayle, I think. Grounds him. Loves him even when he’s being impossible. Hǎinán’s boss, Commander Arfan, is still an idiot. Oh, and you might get a recommendation request from Rackkar Horis. After you left, the city eliminated your shift leader position, so Rackkar didn’t get promoted. Last I heard, he was mumbling about moving to a frontier planet, where there’s no politics.”

  She snorted. “Poor Rack. I kept telling him sex isn’t the oldest profession, it’s politics, but I guess he’ll have to find out for himself.” She glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which, I need to check in with my crew. They’re forming and programming the road in front of the settlement company manager’s house, and I need to make sure they don’t leave any, uh, personal messages for her.”

  She let go of him with one arm and pulled out her percomp, the one he’d brought to her on her last day in Spires. Already he was missing the feel of her warm, soft-in-the-right-places body against his, but he had tomorrow, and a lot of tomorrows after that, to make up for it.

  “Give me your local ping ref, and I’ll send you mine, and some others you’ll need.” He pulled out the ordinary-looking but very powerful percomp his great-grandfather had presented on his arrival on Abasarran, with a strict admonition not to lose it, because it would bring good fortune. He’d already synced it to the local comms, so he showed her the key. With her glorious filer’s memory, all she needed was the once glance.

  She kissed him one more time, with an intensity he felt down to his toes, then strode out of Wazner’s office. His office now, he supposed. His mostly empty office.

  Since it was unlikely that Wazner ever had visitors, he imagined the furniture and decorations had somehow found their way into her household belongings. He didn’t mind. His research said there was a local cottage industry of making unique pieces out of deadfall trees, and he’d never owned anything handcrafted before.

  He unfolded the old, slow deskcomp and dutifully opened the files on the traffic system, but didn’t understand what he was reading. He made a note to ask Wazner why she’d asked for the meeting in the first place.

  From all he’d gathered, the CPS expected little out of him for now, other than making sure the planetary government saw the CPS as an ally. Lièrén planned to operate his little tendril of the CPS as it should be, not as he’d seen it lately. His first act would be to open the minder clinics to all settlers, whether or not they were minders, and establish a working relationship with the only body shop in Prime Vaeros. Isolation wasn’t going to help minders become accepted members of the community, and healers would be a good bridge. He also planned to volunteer and send CPS staff to help w
ith community projects and respond to emergencies. After that, minders and non-minders alike needed to see that the CPS minders could effectively deal with other minders who abused their talents.

  It wouldn’t be a straight and easy road, but he felt he owed a debt to the universe for the wrongs that had been done in the name of the CPS. He’d corrupted the Testing Center data hypercubes and made sure that recruiters like that farkin’ lopar Ghisolfi paid the price, but making amends for what his field unit had done would be a long journey.

  By the time the OII investigators had gotten around to accessing the field unit’s hypercube, they’d found it to be fractured beyond recovery. Lièrén suspected it was Nothenil’s last, parting gift. Both he and Lièrén had the complete records. Nothenil probably kept his for insurance, in case the CPS ever came calling. Lièrén had already begun mining his for the names of people who had suffered as a result of his field unit’s actions, with an eye toward making anonymous reparation, in whatever form it took. A windfall inheritance here, a private scholarship there, a new job offer… He had the resources, and intended to use them, starting tomorrow. Well, the day after.

  Tomorrow was for throwing himself on the tender mercies of the woman and boy he adored, and hoping they’d overlook his flaws, and be patient with him, and anchor him with their love.

  * * * * *

  “I thought toad-in-the-hole was with bread and egg in the middle,” said Lièrén as he watched Derrit deftly serve browned sausages that had been baked in a savory custard. It smelled wonderful. The winsome creature named Zuzu that looked like a mink-brown cat with a pointed snout and a naked tail apparently thought so, too, because she circled around everyone’s feet under the table and trilled often.

  Derrit nodded. “This is the British version. I looked it up. It’s so we’ll remember the Quark and Quasar.”

  Imara gave her son an indulgent smile. She may have looked just as he remembered, but Derrit had grown several centimeters, and his face was starting to fill out. His hair was still closely cropped, as it had been for their final flight. Lièrén looked forward to seeing Derrit come into his own.