Rainscape

by Jaye Roycraft

  “I’ll want to see the reports made by those AEA agents who did attempt to locate and question these people.”

  “Of course, Agent Rzije.”

  The Minister addressed Jon again. “Please see Corporal Khilioi at your convenience. He will issue you skimmers, maps, clothing, supplies, and anything else you may need for the desert. We have a vast amount of reports and information available which can be accessed from your room computers. Anything you cannot locate, you have only to ask. Have you any other immediate questions?”

  “Not at this time. Mondina?” Jon glanced at Dina.

  “Yes, I have a question. Mining operations traditionally have a high level of security. Who provides security for the mines, and what does their security consist of?”

  Chandhel looked to the Commander, who, ignoring Dina, turned to Jon and directed his answer there. “Mother Lode provides their own security. They employ very stringent security procedures, and punishment for smuggling raw gems is severe. After the first murder, and subsequently, their complement of security personnel was increased dramatically. Unfortunately, it hasn’t helped. I’m sure their Chief of Security, Karsa Hrothi, can fill you in on any details you require.”

  Dina struggled to keep her calm exterior lidded tightly on the brew of anger and humiliation that Katzfiel’s obvious slight had set to boiling. Jon turned to Dina, and their eyes met. Dina knew Jon was aware of her feelings and understood. Once again, her eyes relayed “thanks” to him.

  “Anything else?” he quietly asked her.

  “Not just now.”

  Jon stood and bowed first to Chandhel, then Katzfiel. “Thank you, Minister, Commander.”

  The farewells, some of them cold, to be sure, were completed, and Maris escorted Jon and Dina out. Khilioi drove them back to the Visitor Center, this time with the bubble top in place, and reminded them that he would be available whenever they were ready to take delivery of the desert supplies. Jon and Dina thanked him, then ascended to their rooms. In the hallway, Jon whispered to her. “Meet me in my room in five minutes.”

  She nodded, and once inside her room, leaned against the coolness of the metal door. A line of sweat had glued her white T-shirt to her spine. She pushed away from the door, shrugged off her jacket and stripped the white top off, tossing it to the bed. It hit the edge, slid to the floor, and pooled like spilled milk. She left it. In the small bathroom, she rinsed her face with a fresh cleansing cloth, and wondered what had contributed to her discomfort more, the burning embarrassment she had felt at Katzfiel’s treatment, or the news there may be dens on Exodus. She slipped on a clean top, ordered a spiced juice drink, and thought about what had been said during the meeting.

  She had been hoping for few surprises, but had been genuinely shocked to hear about the possibility of dens on Exodus. Jon was aware of the dens’ powerful telepathic abilities as well as the fact that Dina had no love for them, but she doubted he realized just how deep her hatred of the dens actually went. After all, in her profession, she wasn’t supposed to display prejudice against any type of human or creature. Though human in form, she definitely put the dens in the “creature” category. She didn’t want to lie to Jon, but she would have to be careful in discussing the dens with him.

  Dina knocked at the connecting door and entered upon hearing Jon’s reply. “Make yourself comfortable. Want anything to eat?” he asked.

  Dina noticed that Jon, too, had removed his jacket and wore a short-sleeved gray T-shirt with his loose fitting matching trousers. Dina couldn’t help admiring the powerful biceps and pectoral muscles thus revealed. She wished, certainly not for the first time, that she could just relax with Jon instead of discussing a case.

  “Not just yet. I’m still trying to calm down a little.”

  Jon nodded his head and sat on the bed, stretching one long leg out in front of him. “This job will always spring surprises on us, no matter how thoroughly we prepare. I think we have a number of issues to discuss before we go see the good corporal and formulate our plans for the next few days. First, did your probes reveal anything other than the fact that Commander Kaz doesn’t like us in general and women in particular?”

  Dina laughed. Jon always had a knack for putting her at ease. “Well, if he likes them, I’m sure it’s for serving his needs and warming his bed, not working beside him. I don’t like him, but no, my probes didn’t pick up much else. I think he resents us and sees us as a threat to his authority. Whether or not he resents us enough to try to compromise our efforts wasn’t clear, but we should definitely keep an eye on him. Minister Chandhel appears sincere in wanting us to solve the murders. I get the feeling he laments the fact that his administration will go down in history as being as bad as, if not worse than, that of his predecessor. He and Katzfiel are not the best of friends, as I’m sure you could tell. I even probed Maris. She thinks you’re cute.”

  Jon smiled. “Next issue. What do you make of the possibility any of the ‘dark outworlders’ Chandhel referred to had anything to do with our murders?”

  Dina took a deep breath and finally dropped into one of the room’s two chairs. “Well, the Onipherans are flesh eaters. Since the autopsy reports show that the bodies were intact, we can probably eliminate them. The mantis are diviners. Prophets if you like. They’re generally harmless, but many have been known to be great orators, influencing large numbers of people to a cause or ideology which, of course, fits their ‘vision’ of the future. Depending on what their ‘cause’ is, they can be dangerous. This Uz-Dailjan, who is supposed to be worshiped by so many, could be a mantis. I don’t know much about shapeshifters. Obviously they would be almost impossible to apprehend. And the dens . . .”

  Dina hesitated. “If there are dens involved, we’ll have our work cut out. In addition to their powers, they’re cold-blooded and known to hire out as mercenaries. Our murderer could very well be a dens.”

  Jon leaned forward on the bed. “If you should encounter a dens, you’ll know him for one, won’t you?”

  Dina stood and walked to the room’s one small window. She didn’t want to think about this. “Yes, if I survive the encounter. Jon, my abilities are no match for even the weakest dens. I was born with a gift, but the dens have evolved genetically far beyond most humanoid species.”

  “Just what exactly are they capable of?”

  “Besides the obvious ability to communicate with each other telepathically, they can compel others to do just about anything. They can induce short-term memory loss, or they can completely destroy one’s mind.”

  Jon rose and joined her at the window. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “All right. Let’s not panic over this. We don’t even know that any of them are really here. I want you to research all these groups.”

  Dina took a deep breath. “Okay. What’s our agenda for the rest of today?”

  “Let’s see what toys the corporal has for us. Then we should tour the city. I don’t know about you, but last night I was too worn out to pay much attention to Khilioi’s prattle.”

  Dina laughed. “I thought I was the only one being lulled to sleep by his little speech. You have no idea how much I was thanking you for your well-timed responses. I was too tired to even nod as he pointed out one building after another.”

  Jon gave her another of his warm smiles. Dina loved to see them. His smiles were genuine, creating little lines that flowed outward from the corners of his eyes, and a large dimple just to the left of his mouth.

  “After that we’ll eat, start accessing the computer files, then I think it would do both of us good to catch up on sleep. Tomorrow we’ll make our first trip into the desert. We’ll need to view the mines, talk to Mother Lode security, and, of course, see where the murders took place.”

  “And the Dailjan?” Dina asked.

  “First we’ll see what’s in the Commander’s reports, then we’ll take
it from there.”

  “All right.”

  “Go back to your room and get whatever you’ll need for our tour. I’ll call Khilioi. Say, fifteen minutes?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Jon nodded, and Dina slipped back to her room through the connecting door. The investigation was finally underway, but her excitement had waned. She could brush off her anger toward Katzfiel, but the dread over the possibility of dens on Exodus just wouldn’t go away.

  Three

  The Dark Outworlders

  CORPORAL KHILIOI led Jon and Dina to a secured room on the first floor of the Visitor Center.

  “This room has been stocked especially for you and should contain everything you’ll need for safety, self-defense, and survival in the desert. We’ve provided a skimmer for each of you for transportation. Small, fast, and light, but unfortunately don’t enclose the rider. Of course, that should please Agent Marlijn, but it makes for a hot ride for the rest of us. You’re familiar with their basic operation?”

  Though the question was addressed to both of them, the corporal’s gaze swept Dina up and down like the bristles of a well-worn broom. She stared back at Khilioi, straddled the skimmer easily, and expertly pushed several buttons on the console. The machine came to life with a steady hum and rose a bar in height off the floor. With just the right amount of pressure from her right hand, then her left, the skimmer spun like a top in tight circles. With the touch of another button, she settled the machine gently to the floor and turned it off.

  “Yes, Corporal, I think I can handle it.”

  She wondered if all of the AEA personnel were like Katzfiel and Khilioi. But then again, she thought, Exodus was a hot, ugly little rock, and a posting to this colony was certainly not a plum job. Maybe high quality candidates had been hard to find for the jobs here.

  “Fine. Let’s continue.” The corporal seemed neither impressed nor nonplused and continued his narration. Khilioi grabbed a cooling vest and held it up. The vest was constructed of large, soft plastic fibers “woven” into an open, diamond-shaped pattern.

  “These vests are filled with a liquid which, after being frozen or cooled, will remain cold for up to ten hours. The vests can be reused simply by refreezing them.”

  Dina tilted her head and shifted her feet, her eyes wandering impatiently around the room. Gods. He sounded like a damn salesman.

  Khilioi, ignoring Dina, continued with his presentation. “After I get your measurements, I’ll see that several weather suits are delivered to your rooms. And don’t neglect to wear one of these in the desert.” The corporal picked up a hood with an attached sunshield. “The inside of all our hoods are lined with detachable cooling mesh, and there’s a small supply of water and oxygen built in. Oh, and keep in mind that sunset is currently at the seventeenth hour. After the sun sets, the desert cools off quickly, and temperatures at night in the desert can drop well below freezing, so plan your excursions into the desert accordingly. In case you’re in the desert al-merkwia, there are heat packs and a blanket in the skimmer’s cargo bags.”

  Khilioi continued with his explanation of the equipment, relayed Jon and Dina’s measurements to the stores officer, then led them outside to begin the tour of the city. The corporal wore a short-sleeved shirt rather than the long coat she had first seen him in, but he looked no less smart. His leather visor was canted low over his eyes and hid the top half of his mirrored sunshields. Lightweight cloth panels in a reflective, bronze-colored material extended from the sides and back of his cap like the headdress of a desert god. Tanned arms with biceps that stretched the material of his sleeves were decorated with a golden commband on one wrist and a gold bracelet the color of melted butter on the other.

  They settled into the hugger, and with the bubble top in place, the ride was comfortable. Khilioi pointed out the greenhouses, the power plants, the recycling plants, and the glass factory. Though attractive in their clean, efficient lines, it was the architecture of the various housing facilities for the city workers, the food courts, the recreation halls and the port facility that caught Dina’s attention. Each of these was unique and stunning in its design, the various shapes, sizes, and colors like shiny baubles. Pretty lures, she thought, to attract workers to this blistering sand heap.

  The one building that stood out even among the other jewels was the Mother Lode building. It was shaped like a pyramid, with numerous small steps creating extra facets to reflect light. The front face of the pyramid was silver, the remaining faces iridescent. It was obvious the architects had tried to give the building the appearance of a giant exodite stone.

  Near the western edge of the city, Khilioi pointed out two tall columns, one on either side of the road. On top of the columns pulsed bright lights which Dina could see easily even with the beams of the late morning sun glaring down on them.

  “The western gate, Ghe Wespero on the maps. Beyond the gate is the Albho Mar. There’s a road of sorts across the mar to the mines, which are about forty decbars out, due west. Mines are at the base of a crescent-shaped range of rocks called the Chayne Gwer, and beyond the mines and within the crescent is the Ghel Mar. On the edge of the Ghel Mar, hidden in the caverns of the Chayne, is where we believe the Dailjan live. What possesses anyone to live that far out is beyond me.” It was the first time Dina could remember the corporal expressing a personal opinion.

  “And beyond the Ghel Mar?” Dina asked.

  “Al-Ghel Mar. Beyond the Sea of Glass. Don’t know. More sand and rocks. The area has been surveyed and charted, of course, but apparently nothing of importance was found out there. I suppose someday more cities will be built, but for now, I’ve never heard of anyone, even any of the Dailjan, living that far out. The conditions would be intolerable, and it would be a long way from any source of supplies.”

  Dina looked southward from the western gate and noticed numerous small buildings, some of them crudely built. “What are those?” she asked, nodding toward the structures.

  “The mercari. Small tradesmen and merchants. Sell mostly to the miners on their way to or from the mines, but they also trade with the Dailjan. The Dailjan are far from being self-sufficient. They have to trade for just about everything.”

  “Corporal, can we take a closer look? I’d like to see the stands and what they’re selling,” Dina injected.

  “Leave it to a woman to want to shop, eh, Rzije?”

  There was no answering smile on Jon’s face. “I don’t think that’s what my partner had in mind. If you would comply, Corporal?”

  “Of course, Agent Rzije.”

  Khilioi moved the hugger into the hot mixture that sizzled, day after day, at the desert’s rim. Dina’s mouth turned downward in a sardonic acknowledgment of the ugly side of every city, present even in this newly created paradise. Every flap of tent canvas, every bawdy shout, every defacing sign, seemed to mock the beauty of the rest of Aeternus. There seemed to be little permanence to the structures, and most of what Dina saw resembled a seedy traveling show forever on the verge of pulling up stakes. The cants of the merchants broke through even the bubble top of the hugger.

  “Corporal, I’d like to get out and walk around.”

  “As you wish,” he replied, in a tone which seemed to imply that he wouldn’t miss her company.

  Dina hopped from the hugger and strolled past several of the tents. Food, drinks, clothing, jewelry, glasswork, tools, and novelties were all in evidence. Children ran after her and plucked at her tunic, but she firmly told them “no.”

  She reached the end of the row and looked around, trying to decide whether to continue or head back to the others. As she scanned the tents across the road, her gaze lit on a man who was staring directly at her.

  She froze. He was dressed in a loose khaki desert suit, with a long scarf that wrapped around his head, covering most of his hair and the lower half of his f
ace. Standing in the shade of a tent awning, he had removed his sunshield, and the narrow eyes that riveted on her were hard enough to scratch glass. A chill seemed to pass straight through her. There was something both unsettling and familiar about his eyes and the way he looked at her, as if she knew him, and he her.

  But how could that be possible? She had just arrived on Exodus and had met no one save Aeternan government employees and AEA personnel.

  The answer started her heart pounding. It was the man in the dream. Just as quickly, she chided herself. It wasn’t possible. It had been just a dream, for gods’ sake. The image of the stranger had been too much on her mind. It was just a coincidence.

  Why, then, was this man looking at her as though he knew every thought in her head? She stared back at him, as unmoving as he. Thick strands of dark hair escaped from beneath the scarf and fingered the low, shawl collar of his tunic.

  A new thought came to her. Oh, gods . . . Minister Chandhel had said there were dark outworlders on Exodus. Could this man be one of them? She had to get help from Jon and Khilioi, fast. She spoke into her commband.

  “Jon, I’m just north of you, at the end of the row of tents. Get over here. Now.”

  She had only taken her eyes off the man for a few seconds, but when she looked up again, he was gone. Damn! She crossed the road at a trot, but the man had once again performed his vanishing act. Jon and Khilioi ran up to her.

  “What is it? Are you all right?” asked Jon.

  “I’m fine. Sorry. It’s nothing. I saw someone I thought you should check out, but he’s gone.”

  “’Check out,’ Miss Marlijn?” parroted Khilioi.