"Oh." She settled down on the railing with Burkan's arm still tight around her.
"You done taking care of your father?" He nodded in the general direction of the cemetery. "I was looking forward to straightening out this mess with him. Nobody blames the Rovers for leaving--nobody expected the Talroqi to hit. We let down our own people." He tugged gently on her braid. "Your dad would be proud you're taking over."
"It scares me."
"Yeah, well, only a fool goes into something this important without being afraid. Every Rover who shipped in the last few years is committed to finding out the truth, once and for all. They think something stinks here, just like your father did. Something happened here when the Talroqi invaded, and a lot of them think the danger didn't leave when the Talroqi fled. A good number will want to settle here. That's how much they love this world."
"That's good for us all," she murmured.
"They're a tight unit, just waiting for the commander to move in and start things rolling."
"They're waiting for Dad."
"True." Burkan nodded, and his irrepressible humor sparkled in his eyes again. "But you're Joras's girl and you have a good reputation. What common sense and training doesn't do to back up your authority, well...hormones just might."
Rhianni was shocked for three heartbeats. Then she laughed.
"Bet you haven't laughed in a long time." He let go of her and stepped to the door. "I can guess what that heartless uncle of yours did to make you agree to this, gal. It isn't right, even if it's the only answer." He opened the door and beckoned for her to come inside.
"Mallachrom is my home. My friends are affected." She thought of Petroc and his little boy, then yanked her thoughts back to the present.
"A good Rover cares, but there are limits to how much you can give before it kills you." He closed the door and led her through the office, cluttered with four desks, file bins stacked to the ceiling and old-style computer terminals on each desk. The next door opened into the living quarters, a main room with a massive fireplace filling up one end wall, couches on either side wall, thick fiber matting on the floor and shelves full of games and reading disks. It was a man's room, comfortably shabby and made for relaxing, not style.
Rhianni stopped short in the doorway as a wave of spicy, meaty, yeasty aromas assaulted her. When her stomach rumbled audibly and painfully, she pressed her free hand to it.
"Thought you'd be starving. Nothing like plain cooking with real food to get you feeling like you're home for real and for good." He pushed open the swinging door on the other side of the room and more odors of hot, fresh cooking gushed out to meet them.
He settled her at the table in the kitchen, set with heavy, utilitarian plates and utensils and massive cups. They glossed over the mission while Burkan filled their plates. Rhianni told him about her guise as a Rover on emotional rest leave.
"The next part will be hard," she said, as Burkan nodded. "Making nice with Grandmother. We've uncovered enough information to make us think she's involved in the pirate operations in this quadrant, but we don't know how much or who else is involved. I've been ordered to investigate her involvement as well as determine if the Taken are dangerous or it's just a smear campaign to hide something nasty."
"Just think of the information you can wheedle out of her if she thinks you're playing her game," Burkan said.
"That's the only reason for voluntarily visiting her. If Mama knew her own mother made such a big change and turned against Mallachrom, she'd go nova." Rhianni shrugged. "Then again, she'd help me cozy up to Grandmother and trick her into putting her head in the noose."
"Don't know if having her support will help." He set overflowing plates down and reached back to the counter for the seasoning shakers. "She's still queen of the Council, and she at least pretends to be fair-minded, but some things that slipped out over the years make you think she wants all the Taken in jail."
"Half the planet wants it, from what I've heard. Where did the fear come from?"
"Well, the Taken don't socialize much with the rest. They avoid as much contact with officials and regulations as they can. Makes it easy for lies and rumors to get started." Burkan punctuated his words with the thump and scrape of his chair on the wooden floor as he moved in closer to the table.
"We have to contact the Taken and let them know what we have to offer," Rhianni said. "You think they're the victims, rather than the enemy?" When Burkan nodded without hesitating, soaring relief filled her.
"Eat first. Plan strategy later." He gestured at her plate.
Rhianni inhaled the aroma of real-meat sausage and tuber hash, fried eggs and sweet rolls with popperberry filling. It had been too long since she had eaten fresh food.
Between mouthfuls, they outlined their plan of action. Rhianni would visit her grandmother overnight and come back to QSE in the morning. The Rover ship, Star Sword, would make a wide arc and return, to take up orbit shielded from the planet's satellites. The crew would monitor communications and siphon off all the data the security satellites caught, and stay ready to fly down at a moment's notice.
"I wouldn't risk staying in Mistress Shoreel's house even for one night," Burkan said.
"Appearances. If people believe I get along with Grandmother, I earn their trust. Or get them to cooperate out of fear of her wrath."
"Good idea." Burkan snorted. "Going to be rough. Too bad we can't send someone else in as a spy."
"Too bad we need deception at all. How did it get this way, First Ship families and the newcomers allied against the Taken?"
"Nobody knows," Burkan said with a tired sigh. "Except maybe the ones who started the problem."
Rhianni changed into her second-best uniform, charcoal gray with red piping and green emblems, to travel to Core. The center of government was housed in The Hall of Law and Justice, simply referred to as The Hall. At the spaceport, she turned in her borrowed sled, then took a public transport cart to The Hall, riding with four other people. They studied her, making whispered comments behind their hands. Rhianni had good practice at ignoring them. She had endured state occasions with her father, living on exhibition on the allied planets where their squadron had been posted. The experience benefited her now.
She hoped for admiration and excitement at the sight of her uniform. As long as the Rovers were still a power, a desirable ally, Mistress Shoreel of the Council would flaunt her granddaughter's rank. Rhianni planned to use it. If her grandmother was pleased with her presence on Mallachrom, Rhianni could use the woman's influence to get anything she needed, over-step any bureaucratic barriers.
At the lowest garden terrace leading up to the grand entrance of The Hall, Rhianni left the cart. She slung her bag over her shoulder, eyed the long flights of stairs and terraces with their decorative fountains and flowering trees--pink and pale silvery blue to accent the golden pink and blue-speckled stone of the building--took a deep breath, and started climbing.
The Hall was a five-story tall building with multiple wings for government functions. It housed medical facilities, science labs and the colony's archives. It spread out across Core, taking up almost as much room as the spaceport.
Rhianni crossed the reception hall, tiled with glossy wood in shades ranging from crimson to white-gold. On the far side, directly opposite the doors, multiple rows of desks and clerks waited to serve the dozens of people milling around the hall.
She crossed directly to the desk with the flame emblem of the Council. She bit her lip against a grin when the crowd parted before her as if she carried a repulsor field in her hand. It was the uniform. She decided she might just enjoy the perks of being a Rover.
For a change. At least for a little while.
"Yes, Captain. How can I help you?" A white-blond, elderly man bounced to his feet and watched her approach. His eyes sparkled and Rhianni suspected she had made his day golden by coming specifically to him.
"I'm Rhianni Day. Mistress Shoreel is my grandmother. Could you check if she's f
ree to receive me, please?" She gave him her most friendly smile.
"Oh, yes, Captain. She left instructions for you to be brought to her immediately. If you'll come this way?"
He scurried out from behind the desk and beckoned for her to follow him through a set of double doors made of golden-white wood. The hallway ran twenty meters into the heart of the building, then opened out into a circular reception area filled with pale gold couches arranged in conversation groupings, with murals of Mallachrom scenery painted on the walls. Doors opened off this room, each leading to Council office suites.
"Rhianni?" Mistress Shoreel swept through the door of her office, dark blue robes brushing the floor, her regal bearing warming in welcome. Rhianni was surprised, and barely managed to hide it as the woman embraced her. "Oh, my dear, just look at you." She held Rhianni off at arm's length and looked her over from head to foot. Approval for the Rover uniform and her trim appearance was evident.
Somewhere in the greeting, the clerk had vanished. Rhianni hoped he had seen enough to spread rumors of how her grandmother had welcomed her.
Mistress Shoreel's sculptured, ivory features were untouched by wrinkles or age spots, her eyes still icy blue, her hair untouched by gray. Rhianni wondered if her grandmother dyed her hair, or simply refused to show any signs of her years.
The woman was massively fat. Her customary robes of office hung loosely like a tent to cover a girth Rhianni doubted two people could span with their arms. She had to exert discipline not to stare.
"Your mother would be so proud of you." Mistress Shoreel sighed. She kept hold of Rhianni's hands and turned her just a little--showing her off to the people lingering and curious in front of their offices. "A captain at your age, and you look so grand in a uniform. Are you only here on rest leave?"
"I haven't made any definite plans. You could try to persuade me to stay. Mallachrom is home, after all."
"Persuade you, we shall. I know several young men of First Ship families who would give up their colony shares just to dance with a young lady like you."
Mistress Shoreel nearly purred. Rhianni could imagine her grandmother had spent hours calculating the political advantages gained through marrying off her only grandchild.
"I've arranged a dinner party to welcome you home, dear. You don't mind, do you?"
"I'd hoped it could be just the two of us, but if that's what you want, that's fine with me."
Personally, she didn't want to be alone with her grandmother for an entire evening. At a party, she could meet the movers and shakers of Mallachrom society and assess them. This couldn't be working out better if she had planned it down to the last detail.
Chapter 5
Rhianni remembered her father's stories of his first few days on Mallachrom, when the Fleet sent his Rover squadron to set up a station to detect Talroqi activity. The machinations of the First Ship families had amused him, trying to pair a son or daughter with an officer in the heroic Rover Corps. Tonight, she saw Mallachrom parents still schemed to find their children profitable mates. The styles of formal dress had changed, but buffet suppers and dancing were still the mode for entertaining large groups. Once again, The Hall hosted a reception for Rover Captain Day.
She wore her second-best uniform to the reception, rather than a borrowed formal gown. Mistress Shoreel practically demanded it. Rhianni thought it looked silly when the young men danced with her, but that was their problem, not hers. Her uniform made her feel ready for defense, unhampered by long skirts and dainty shoes that would break the moment she had to run or kick.
The reception hall had a high ceiling and wood paneling and was large enough to handle over three thousand people. The founders had been optimistic for the growth of the colony, with fields full of the healing stimulant sweetsoul plant as its main cash crop. Rhianni stood by the door and sipped simple fruit juice while her grandmother introduced yet another patriarch of a First Ship family and his tall, handsome son and nephews. Why did only the men show any interest in meeting her? Were the women frightened of her Rover uniform? Did they consider her a waste of time because she hadn't brought any male officers for them to meet and marry? She nearly giggled at that thought and caught herself before she got juice up her nose.
Then Janese walked into the reception hall.
She was as tall as her parents had been, with a sharp chin and sharper nose, her hair muted red and her gray-blue eyes full of the mischievous sparkle Rhianni remembered from childhood games. Of the dozens of children at QSE, Janese had been Rhianni's closest girl-friend--and she was pregnant.
Rhianni studied her huge stomach, enhanced by her silver and black gown. She estimated her childhood friend would give birth within six weeks.
"I couldn't believe it when I heard!" Janese exclaimed, her voice still holding the giddiness Rhianni remembered. "You're home to stay? Please say you are." She hugged Rhianni, turning so her hard belly didn't touch the uniform.
"It's uncertain yet. I came home to bury my father and take rest leave." Rhianni glanced at her grandmother, who smiled beatifically at the reunion of the childhood friends.
That was odd. Mistress Shoreel had never been fond of Rhianni's 'rowdy, rustic, peasant friends'.
"Janese, dear, why don't you take Rhianni for a little walk? It's getting positively stuffy in here." Mistress Shoreel gestured at the doorway.
Judging from the disappointed faces of those still in line, Rhianni guessed her grandmother had done that to impress some delicate point of priority on them. She didn't care; it was definitely stuffy and she preferred to talk where dozens of witnesses couldn't hear.
They went to an enclosed courtyard open to the evening sky, lined with leafy sweetsoul bushes and a few carefully caged moriphus bushes, spilling lemony perfume through the chilly air. She and Janese followed a path of round, pale blue paving stones to a white bench in the center of the courtyard.
"What a relief," Janese said with a sighing laugh. She sat and smiled up at Rhianni. "I really dreaded waiting hours to talk to you. How are you doing? Are you really a Rover? Why would you want to be one? Isn't it horribly dangerous?"
"Not for the medics. Dad let me be a medic because he knew I'd go crazy if I couldn't help. My Day blood coming out, he used to say."
"Oh, that's right." Janese's smile faded a little. "Your great-grandfather started the Rovers. You just can't stop saving the universe, can you?"
"I don't think it's all that bad." She took a step forward, intending to sit next to Janese, but a shiver up her spine stopped her. Rhianni knew better than to ignore that warning sensation--it had saved her life on several occasions. She gestured at her friend's big belly. "Do I know the father?" She settled into a comfortable stance, her arms wrapped around herself as if slightly chilled.
"No. He was Second Wave." Janese's smile faded completely. "He's dead. A bunch of crazy Taken attacked our settlement."
"Attacked?" She put Petroc's face on the leader of the attackers, and it just didn't fit. "Why?"
"Because I'm a Taken, and they hate anyone who marries an outsider. As if the Taken are a superior species. It's disgusting!" She wiped her eyes, though Rhianni hadn't seen any tears. "You could help us, couldn't you?"
"Me?"
"You're a Rover. You could protect us. You could find out what really happened when we were Taken."
"You don't know?" That felt doubly wrong.
"None of us really remember. One day we woke up and we were living outdoors, in rags, living off roots and raw meat, and we had no idea how we got there."
"I heard the Shadows rescued the Taken."
"The Shadows were near us, but they had nothing to do with us surviving. If anything, they were keeping watch on us so the Talroqi could find us. The sooner Shadows are exterminated, the safer we'll all be!" Crimson spots darkened Janese's cheeks. "You could call your team and have them help us, couldn't you?"
"I'm a medic, not on the command track, so I don't have a team. I was raised by my father's officers, an
d I've seen enough active duty to qualify for my rank. Beyond my visit to Mallachrom, well, who knows?" Rhianni assayed a smile and shrugged. "If you want the Rovers to do something on Mallachrom, someone with authority has to request an investigation from the Galactic Council."
Joras Day had requested the in-depth infiltration and action team. He would have led it if he hadn't been killed on his final assignment.
"Then you can't do anything?" Janese's half-whisper sounded strained.
"I can ask for help. Your settlement--"
"I gave it up when my husband was killed. I live in Core now. I was lucky enough to get a job with your grandmother. She's such a sweet lady. If it weren't for her, the government would have collapsed when the Talroqi invaded."
Rhianni heard a footstep sliding on the glossy paving stones and turned, expecting one of her grandmother's toadies to beckon them indoors again.
No one appeared.
"Is something wrong?" Janese asked.
Rhianni opened her mouth as shadows erupted from the thick cover of the trees and bushes. Janese screamed. Rhianni cursed silently, wishing she hadn't left her sidearm at Burkan's. She leaped at the black-garbed figure and did a tuck-and-roll, knocking the very solid figure off his feet. He shouted and went down. She flipped back to her feet and spun, kicking hard. A rib snapped audibly.
Janese screamed and waddled down the pathway. The second shadow ignored her for Rhianni. She jabbed her elbow into his gut and kicked back with her left leg, twining it with his and knocking him off balance. He went down with a grunt. Something dark blue and metallic flew from his hand and clattered across the paving stones.
Shouts erupted from the reception hall. Running footsteps brought both attackers to their feet. Rhianni decided not to follow them into the darkness of the courtyard foliage. That was probably what they wanted--lure her away and kill or subdue her.
A handful of Enforcers in their charcoal gray uniforms appeared, with Janese and several First Ship patriarchs bringing up the rear. They looked peeved to find Rhianni had dispatched the attackers on her own. Were the Enforcers tonight merely decorative? Then again, who expected an attack in The Hall, during a social occasion?
Shadows of Mallachrom, Book 1: Blue Fire Page 5
