Gazing out the cell window, he saw a radiance that poured through the night sky. Siprax, their largest moon, still glowed with Speru’s power. One blast from the child did that. What more was Speru capable of? What marvels could the boy have done for Alo, had D’gorra and other councilmembers not feared him?
Be free, Speru.
* * * * * *
“Please hurry, Siana!” Jeyla said using telepathy. “I’ve never seen him like this before, and I still can’t find Speru!”
“I’m almost there,” returned to her.
While not a true telepath, moments like this made her appreciate one of the most basic Aloan abilities—to communicate from one mind directly to another. Though, she tired quickly if she did it for too long, or over too great a distance.
Speru had no abilities to speak of, but under the right conditions he at least received such messages. Though right now she couldn’t even feel him to send one. Maybe he was in a structure like the High Dome, one that shielded the council against such communications and blocked him too?
No, that didn’t seem right. She had always felt a connection to him. They called it their cosmic bond—like brother and sister. It started when they were children. Even then, they were inseparable. Now, as young adults, they reported professionally to the council through D’abar. No one quite understood her like he did and somehow they always ended up working together.
Speru also told her everything. They had no secrets—not with his classified assignments for the council, or with the intimate details of his personal life. If he was going somewhere, she’d already know about it. So the question became: what happened that made it change?
She paced nervously, biting her fingers. Her quarters were so small, why did she only recall that fact when in trauma? Each time she pivoted, a wave of vertigo washed over her. Doing obsessive laps in such a space was counter-productive. She might as well turn in circles.
D’abar’s predicament also bothered her. There was no precedent for the incarceration of a councilmember—she knew that for a fact.
She’d already reviewed the legal tomes and ancient records stored within her mind. Everyone in her family had the gift of being a living archive of information. It was the reason they tended the museum and were called upon as historians during council debates. She’d already asked her family and no one had any visibility into any deliberations at High Dome that involved D’abar or Speru.
Loud clops from the hallway distracted her. The door slid open. A waif in stately robes and glaring glasses toddled in. “I came as quickly as I could,” Siana said, her bookish voice dry yet exasperated. “I’ve checked around—nothing.”
“Why doesn’t anyone know anything?” Jeyla said. “There is a councilmember jailed and a council guard missing! Have you talked to—”
“Yes,” Siana interrupted with a flippant toss of her hands. “Of course! I’ve talked to everyone—all my contacts, and nothing.”
A loud baritone voice jeered from the doorway, startling them. “I think I can shed some light on things.”
Jeyla bristled as she turned. How did he even know how to find them? Seriously, if she had the ability, she’d teleport him to the other end of the planet.
“Why are you here, Raitr?” she said bitterly. She looked over his impressive form, squared jaw, strong chin, high cheekbones. He even had those rare scarlet-orange locks styled in a crew-cut that she liked. She’d find him attractive—if she didn’t know him.
“Hey, he was my friend too.” Raitr gestured for permission to enter. Jeyla begrudgingly waved him in. “When I heard he was missing I started digging around.”
“Who could you talk to that Siana couldn’t?” Jeyla said, then noticed Siana’s soured expression. “What?” she challenged.
“Actually …” Siana hesitated. Jeyla saw the anxiety in her face. Siana hated confrontation, but always said what she needed to in the end. Jeyla knew before another word was spoken, she was wrong. “He can go deeper than I can—pretty much anywhere too.”
Using executive privileges, no doubt. That disgusted her. Siana was an up-and-coming junior councilmember. Raitr was just a trainer, but with a powerful father. Her family was well aware of what D’gorra did with his rising power. Somehow his friends, family, and business associates benefited from every vote he placed and every bill he sponsored. She found it difficult to divorce her disdain of the father from the son.
“Fine, so if you found something useful, spill it,” Jeyla demanded.
“Official word is, D’abar killed Speru.”
No! Jeyla gasped as the room spun and painful knots formed in her stomach. Siana’s tiny but firm grasp steadied her. “It can’t be.”
“I don’t believe it,” Siana said, angered and defiant.
“And you shouldn’t. Just relax. ‘Official word’ is lingo for council cover-ups. Dad taught me that,” Raitr gloated. He pulled a crystal from his pocket and handed it to Jeyla. “Dig around what you’re given, and you’re usually pretty close to the truth.”
As soon as she touched it, the crystal glowed. Three-dimensional images took shape from the light and floated above them. Being an Archivist meant she didn’t need equipment to access information stored in crystals, unlike the rest of the population.
“That’s Speru, and that guy he was escorting,” Siana said, pointing. “The guy he won the tournament with, right?”
She should have known something was wrong. Speru had to escort an official assignment to the weekly tournament, and suddenly was participating in it. Tournaments—ones that pitted the strongest Aloans against one another, when Speru didn’t have any abilities at all. And still, he and this stranger won the competition.
Come to think of it, that was the first time Speru had not shared with her. She had no idea he was competing. Whatever was happening must have started at that point.
“His name is Rhysus Mencari,” Raitr said with a nod. “Though, there’s no citizen record for him anywhere on Alo. Not even a Proxima ID.”
“That’s impossible,” Siana said. “Everyone has one.”
“Right. Except him. And there’s more,” Raitr said, pointing to the other images.
“Where did you get these?” Jeyla said.
“Amazing what a little sympathy plea can get you from the right resources,” he said with a grin.
Devious just like his father.
“Check this out,” Raitr said, enlarging the second image with a gesture. “Rhysus Mencari, Speru, and D’abar were imaged heading toward Siprax.”
“The primary moon? I thought that was forbidden,”,” Siana said, brow furrowed.
“And then this happened …” Raitr waved away the image and enlarged a third. Siprax glowed with a blinding radiance. Even the projection was hard to look at. “And then this …” With another gesture, the fourth image enlarged next to the third. It looked like some sort of streaking fireball, but with a trail of rainbow light behind it. A small army of uniformed Defenders appeared to be chasing it.
“What’s that blur ahead of it?” Siana asked.
“I’m not sure,” Raitr said. “Some sort of distortion.” He shrugged, elusive. “I have some theories, but no facts. There is one person who was there—D’abar.”
“He’s useless right now. He could barely say anything to me,” Jeyla recalled, disheartened.
But he did mention some things. What was it D’abar said?
The conversation replayed in her mind. “He said something about a ‘lie that has protected us all this time.’ Does that ring any bells for you?”
“No, but that gives me more to check into,” Raitr said.
“While you do, I can try again with D’abar,” Jeyla said.
“Yes, but this time I’m going with you,” Siana said.
* * * * * *
“I can’t let you pass,” the guard said, his stone-cold expression made sinister from the glowing red barrier beside him.
“What? I was just here this morning!” Jeyla
snapped.
“Orders changed an hour ago.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Siana said, her piercing gaze locked on the guard.
“Are you supposed to do that? I never gave you permission.” The guard looked uncomfortable, but not from pain. He almost looked nervous. Nervous? From little Siana? Then again, he didn’t know what she could do. Maybe she seemed intimidating, given she just read his mind. It never occurred to her before how dangerous telepaths must seem—if you don’t know them. Jeyla’s mind had yet to be touched by a telepath. Not that she knew of anyway.…
“Oh,” Siana said, fanning her hand. “You’re right, sorry. I’m still learning everything.”
Learning? You’re a tutor for telepaths. All that brain power and that was the best cover she had?
The guard sighed. “This isn’t my call. I’m just following orders.”
One way or another we are getting in there!
There had to be a way. The archives—maybe something of use would be in there? Volumes of information loaded into her consciousness. Some loophole, come on. Indexes of ancient laws and texts streamed madly across her mind’s eye. Being a living archive had its advantages. Though, it usually didn’t take this long to find something, even if the inquiry was absurdly abstract. What’s this … wait, this is it!
“Here, D’addler Regulations, section 210, paragraph 13, third note: ‘If the accused has no direct kin, close associates can be considered relatives for the purpose of support during judicial proceedings and incarceration’,” Jeyla said, triumphant.
The guard’s face pruned. “D’addler Regulations? Are those even enforceable?”
“They are.” Indignant, Siana stepped toward the glowing barrier. “Coming from an Archivist and junior councilmember, you have sufficient grounds to let us through. Contact the council while we’re visiting with D’abar if you need further confirmation.”
What fire! Jeyla couldn’t help but look on in awe. There was something about Siana’s commanding presence that inspired her. She didn’t show it often, but when she did, few stood their ground. Someday she’d make a great full councilmember.
The guard was about to retort when he looked through the barrier, down the corridor toward where D’abar sat like a statue.
This whole thing was so frustrating. Why would the council try to lie about D’abar like this? So many knew him—and knew him well. A swell of emotion erupted within her, twisting her stomach. Losing it now wouldn’t help anyone. She needed to calm down.
“Please,” Jeyla begged.
She looked into his gentle brown eyes. In them she saw the same conflict reflected.
Amazing what a little sympathy plea can get you, Raitr said. It was worth a try. Though, she’d never hear the end of it if Raitr ever found out she used one of his tactics.
“He’s like a father to me, let me help him. Please,” she added.
The guard hesitated, then nodded. “I’m recognizing you as relatives under the D’addler Regulations, section 210, paragraph 13.” He reached forward and waved the barrier away. “He’s a good man, I’ve known him since I was a boy and I don’t believe what they’ve said about him. I’m going to verify the regulation to cover myself. But go.” He waved his hand and dissolved the energy barrier blocking their way.
“Thank you,” Jeyla said as the pair dashed ahead.
* * * * * *
Siana allowed Jeyla to enter first. Even from the doorway, D’abar looked bad.
“D’abar?” Jeyla said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t respond; he just stared blankly ahead. “He was despondent before, now he’s catatonic.”
“I got it,” Siana said, sitting next to him and taking his hand.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. With slow, steady breaths, she centered her mind. As calm came to her, the stimulus of the world faded away. The only sounds she heard were the pounding of her own heart and blood rushing in her ears. Where they touched, she felt a gentle energy form. Just like in training—slowly feel his consciousness. It felt so cold, distant. He really was in bad shape. What would she find inside his mind? She’d only seen something this bad once before, and that was someone who barely escaped a serial killer. Touching the mind of someone in shock was a dangerous thing, especially for an intermediate empath like her.
She pictured her body dissolving, becoming a being of light. The energy between them gave a gentle tug, pulling her consciousness in toward his. This was a good sign; he wasn’t resisting. She allowed herself to be carried deeper into his willing mind. As in her training, it was as if she folded in upon herself, collapsing into a spectral beam that connected with D’abar. She found herself flying through a foggy tunnel of radiant clouds and ever-changing colors. A rumbling ahead burst into a cacophony of agonized thoughts, stunted cries, and angry conversations. Half-formed figures appeared in the shifting billows. She recognized D’gorra, amongst other councilmembers. His memories surrounded her. In a flash she found herself in a large room with stark-white, radiant walls. Before her eyes, scraps of cloth and paper peppered one wall. Most had a unique cartoon drawing. D’abar sat on a silvery bed, holding a small tapestry as one holds something precious.
“D’abar?” she said gently.
His eyes wandered toward her. A gentle smile graced his face. “Siana.”
Training exerted itself. Number one: don’t break their reality. If you encounter your host, allow them to remain unaware of being outside the physical reality. Number two: stay focused on your intent and stay no longer than necessary. Number three: understand the mind and work with it to reveal desired details.
“Tell me about this place.”
“You’ve never been to Speru’s room?” he asked, motioning around. “Sometimes I come here just to see what’s on his mind. He draws these little cartoons for everything and he’s so good at it.”
“I’ve never had the pleasure.”
In fact, as a junior councilmember she was forbidden from going to the guard’s dorm. However, telling him that would break the first rule of mindwalks. She looked more closely at the pictures. Many were blurred, or blank. A few showed what looked like parts of pictures.
However, one on the wall stood out. It displayed a near perfect rendering of D’abar presenting to the council.
She sat next to him. “Where is he now?”
“Safe with Rhysus.”
“The man he was escorting?”
“Yes.”
“Safe from whom?”
“D’gorra and his lackeys.”
Raitr’s father? He had always supported Speru; that didn’t make sense.
“How was Speru not safe?”
D’abar subtle smile faded as his eyes fell upon the floor.
Even here he hesitated. Something was so profound and deep that his own mind resisted revealing details.
“I can’t,” he began, a haze of images and visualized sounds beginning to swirl about him.
What was that? The light around them began to darken, and a cold draft wafted through the room. Whatever it was, their whole environment was changing rapidly. Conflict? What was this conflict of mind? They’d only talked about it in general terms in class. He certainly looked distressed. She needed to help him recover. For all she knew, she too was in danger.
“D’abar, look at me.”
He sat, still looking blankly at the floor. Eerily, he looked like his physical form. Could there be more at work here? Perhaps another telepath had done something, or maybe he had some substance forced upon him that created this state?
“D’abar. Please.”
She reached out and touched his arm. Instantly the light returned around them and the cool breeze stopped. His eyes wandered up, then over to her. As the moments passed, the haze around him swirled away.
“Talk to me. I want to help.”
He smiled weakly. “You’ve always been very sweet, Siana. But there are things you shouldn’t be burdened with.”
“As a jun
ior member I understand and accept any burden that will help our people. You don’t need to protect me.”
The last phrase appeared to drive away his smile. “Protect?”
Whatever was happening, that word seemed to matter. She needed to dig further.
“What’s on your mind, D’abar?”
“Speru.”
There, progress. “What about Speru?”
“Something I’ve kept secret since he was a boy. It should have been shared long ago.” He paused with an introspective stare down at his hands. “Speru wasn’t what he appeared. He was a very powerful boy.”
“Powerful? But he didn’t have any abilities. He couldn’t even fly.”
“That’s what we wanted everyone to think. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.”
In all her life she’d never seen one example of Speru showing any sign of the most basic abilities. This didn’t make sense.
D’abar continued. “I was a close friend with his parents, Seriah and Belian. Soon after Seriah became pregnant, strange things began to happen at their home—like accidents where people’s abilities randomly flared, or devices that had been remarkably reliable suddenly shorted out. Concerned, I began observing. It soon became apparent Seriah was the source of the disturbances.”
Is that how Speru lost his abilities—those strange power bursts? she wondered.
“I was on the threshold of becoming a full councilmember at the time and, of course, wanted to demonstrate my value. So I told the council about the strange power bursts experienced around Seriah. After much debate, the council theorized a new form of Aloan power was manifesting, the first extension of Creval Obenar’s Pillars of Creation, specifically in the Greater Than category of the Ability Tree. The concept: boosting the ability of anyone’s powers or any Aloan-powered device.”
She’d never heard of something like that. Was that even possible?
“The mere idea was mind blowing, but the council saw it another way. They were concerned what would happen if the future child fell into the wrong hands. Such an ability could tip the balance of power on our world.
D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology Page 101
