Figure
<[Got breakfast?]> Nora asked.
<[Yup,]> I said.
<[Well rested? Nerves manageable?]>
<[Double yup, mom,]> I jabbed.
<[Psionic ability?]> She ignored the joke, continuing to fret.
<[Full of it,]> I smirked, trying to get her to loosen up.
<[…Yeah, you are.]> she snorted good naturedly. That was better.
We were going off base. Well, I was.
I’d been beyond the borders of High Harbor base a handful of times before, but they’d all been quiet errands—clandestine even.
But today’s trip wasn’t a secret. It would have been nice to keep a low profile, but we’d made an appointment with Rende Braskin’s very public office. With Serral acting as an interlocutor, I’d made a very firm request that my visit be kept secret.
They’d refused, of course. Too many people would be involved, even if my name never appeared someone would notice the security measures necessary. But ‘allowing’ them the right to tell people let us pick and choose the meeting ground.
<[I don’t like that you’re doing this on your own,]> Nora said to me. Right back to fretting. A few months ago, I would have thought it was infantilizing.
But I worried about her just as much. It was impossible not to share her concerns.
<[Neither does Laranta,]> I said.
<[That’s not going to make me feel better,]> she said. <[You know I don’t trust her.]>
<[Yeah, but maybe you can still find something in common.]>
<[You’re delusion—no…Okay, I appreciate the intent, but I don’t think it’s likely. She might not be thrilled about this, but she’s letting this happen anyway. This could be a trap.]>
It was definitely a trap. Rende Braskin just wouldn’t be the one laying it.
<[I’m meeting a politician, not a commando,]> I frowned. And...even if I had been, I actually wouldn't hate my odds.
We’d struck out this inning with the smuggler—maybe we could create some opportunities later. But in the meantime, they weren’t the only rak with the connections to know things happening on Archo.
Rende Braskin was only called a local ‘community figure’ and not a politician because they didn’t hold any formal office. Though their advice about High Harbor’s Vorak communities was apparently tantamount to gospel.
<[All the more reason I should be there too,]> Nora insisted. But her words were half-hearted.
I didn’t need to tell her why that wasn’t true.
She knew as well as I did why she needed to stay out of view.
Marshal Tispas and his fleet had known I was cooperating with the Coalition for months.
But we’d been vague about Nora’s status, and her reaction to the Coalition at large. Technically, the Red Sails didn’t even know she was out of her coma. They didn’t even know she’d been in one.
As long as it was unclear how the Vorak might react, we had to keep her out of sight. If she was visibly cooperating with the Coalition, her gaggle of abductees could suffer for it.
<[I’ll keep you looped in on the conversation,]> I said. <[Plus, Nai will be nearby. Anyone tries something, and they’re going to burn.]>
<[I know all the precautions, I know you can handle yourself,]> Nora said, <[I’m just…still worried. I feel responsible for you—I know why that’s…gah…]>
<[I get it,]> I said. <[You’re in charge of your campers. I might have more experience than you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel responsible.]>
<[And…]> she added shakily, <[just because I feel responsible, doesn’t mean I am.]>
<[Maybe,]> I shrugged. <[But I’m not going to say you aren’t, or that you shouldn’t be. Some responsibilities we choose for ourselves.]>
<[Yeah. Good luck.]>
<[Thanks,]> I said.
I stayed on the stopped tram for almost thirty seconds while Nai and my full bodyguard contingent swept ahead of me. Tiv had sent more than a dozen clones to help keep me safe. Most of them had gone ahead, while two stayed on the tram with me while we waited for the ‘all clear’.
The Coalition didn’t have the authority to clear tram stops that weren’t on the naval base proper, but my vanguard had done a good job clearing the platform anyway.
Nai had materialized cordons at regular intervals, and my eight bodyguards were corralling people to stay behind the posts.
If this crowd had been on Earth, these measures would have failed hilariously. The cordons weren’t strung together with a ribbon or anything—they were just individual posts. There were almost a dozen soldiers in loose formation around me. But even then…any reporter eager to get in my face could barge right up to me.
For whatever the reason, the measures worked. I wondered if this was true more places, or if Lakandt crowds were just less pushy. Coalition ponchos and holstered weapons were enough to deter onlookers from getting too close to our little precession.
Every pair of eyes in the station locked onto me while I walked through it. I couldn’t tell if their gazes felt like a red carpet event or a perp walk.
We walked through the tram station onto Lakandt streets, quickly picking our route toward the park Rende Braskin had agreed to meet me in.
I said.
<...Do it,> she said.
The superconnector was an incredible piece of psionic engineering. I hadn’t found a form of connection it couldn’t tackle. Images, sounds, tastes, memories, it could translate them all between me and Nai.
That was a limitation we hadn’t gotten around though. It could make almost any connection, but that didn’t necessarily mean another person was ready to be on the other end of that connection.
So far, only Nai qualified. And even then, not all connections were created equal. Physical sensory connections weren’t half as stable as psionic ones. My tentative theory was that the superconnector—for all its awesome flexibility and power—still had an easier time when the work itself was easier. So the more connected or similar the subjects already were, the more easily the superconnector could reach between them.
My and Nai’s psionics were far more similar than our bodies and nervous systems. Hence, the connection proved quite stable as the superconnector whirred to life, stretching toward Nai’s psionics.
Our minds clicked together, and I felt her psionics shuffle around as she repositioned certain pieces to be proximal to the link.
For the first time in two months, my and Daniel’s radar bloomed into my awareness.
God, I’d missed that sensation…
Hundreds of minds illuminated around me. What moments before had been fuzzy clouds of thought, evaporating off aliens like steam, sharpened into vibrant minds. I could have gone one by one and counted all the people we passed.
I drew Nai’s attention to what I’d noticed: one mind standing next to the window. The figure was visibly holding something attached to a tripod.
I’d been warned that getting shot at wasn’t out of the question, but simultaneously there were other possibilities.
We’d caught up to the dozen Tivs that had spread themselves out along our route, keeping a watchful eye for anyone looking to cause trouble.
It was just past a quarter mile from the tram station to the park itself, but our route was slightly circuitous, tracing the exterior of the park while our procession coordinated with the handful of Tivs already in position in the park.
The High Harbor Botanical Gardens spanned more than ten acres near the heart of the colony, and they had their own redundant water and air infrastructure.
I passed a pale-yellow stone memorial near the park gates commemorating an accident more than a decade ago when half the colony’s air barriers had failed. Apparently, half the city had taken shelter under the gardens’ barriers.
There was a turnout today, but it was likely just the park’s normal traffic. Day goers paused what they were doing to stare at the human accompanied by a small army. Most onlookers were Casti, but I spied a few Vorak and Farnata too.
None of them were Red Sails rak out to get me…
Probably.
I double checked my psionic connections, ensuring they were stable while they gathered data from my surroundings. This was a big meeting, and there were plenty of juicy tidbits of information we were hoping to catch.
Walking down the stone pathways toward the meeting place, it was the alien trees and commemorative plaques that caught my eye. Each tree was thick and gnarled, stretching five, six, some even ten stories into the sky. Pushing my cascade into the dirt revealed roots as thick as my torso. Small, oxidized metal plates listed some trees as having been donated by certain individuals or families.
Every step we took toward the center of the park forced me to adjust my idea of the colony as a whole. My time on Lakandt had not been very circumspect. Most of the buildings had been new and prefabricated, but the more I saw of the star system, the better I understood that wasn’t always the case.
This wasn’t just a young colony. Lakandt—or High Harbor at least—was a place with real history to it.
And the Vorak I was here to meet knew it.
Half-a-dozen otters loitered in a loose formation outside the pavilion we were aiming for. They weren’t visibly armed, but tapping into my and Nai’s shared psionics I could sense two of them were Adept.
They hid their nervousness well. Each one remained mostly motionless when they saw us approach.
They all wore the same light overalls with plain buttoned shirts underneath, but the outfits lacked the elbow and knee padding I’d seen on other Vorak in combat. Maybe these weren’t proper uniforms, but a simple dress code?
Then again…we paused a few yards from the pavilion, and I saw the Vorak weren’t the only ones gluing their eyes to us.
None of us actually looked, but anyone who wasn’t Nai or me would be in the dark about what she and I were noticing.
Still, two guns present wasn’t anything we hadn’t agreed to.
Nai and I broke away from the bodyguards and Tiv clones, walking toward the Vorak reception at the pavilion.
“You are Caleb Hane?” one of the Vorak asked as we got closer.
A hand belonging to one of the Adept rak twitched, resisting the urge to materialize a weapon no doubt. Nai alone would have outgunned their entire group. No wonder they were even more nervous than us.
“Who else do you know that looks like me?” I snorted.
“Rende Braskin awaits in the gardens,” they replied coolly. “Second door from the right.”
I walked past them, looking for the right greenhouse attached to the pavilion. Nai stayed behind with the Vorak posted at the entrance.
“I know we said I could go inside too,” Nai said. “But you rak are fine with me keeping an eye on you out here, right?”
The Vorak were understandably shocked by that, confusion playing across their faces. They’d allowed the concession of Nai being in the same room for my protection—and more importantly to put an actual pair of Coalition ears on what was said.
They didn’t know we could sense Rende Braskin alone in the greenhouse, nor would they know that every Coalition soldier guarding me today would be psionically privy to every word.
Leaving Nai to torment the Vorak, I pulled open the elaborate greenhouse door labeled ‘Kraknor subtropical highlands’.
Inside, rows of wooden frames were stacked with pots and planters of endless varieties. Unlike home, Casti plant life was predominantly yellow, with rich greys often showing up secondary. But to my surprise, plants from the Vorak homeworld resembled some of Earth’s.
Green was the dominant color, if perhaps not to the same degree as home. Except that only added to the greenhouse’s vibrance. A dozen different flowers bloomed purple and orange while vines stretched overhead, wrapping themselves around the greenhouse’s irrigation tubes.
I would have been floored at the spectacle, if not for a nagging voice at the back of my head wondering if I was about to have an allergic reaction to one of the thousands of plants in the greenhouse.
Rende Braskin was short, even for a Vorak. They sat hunched over on a stool next to one of the larger planter boxes, up to their elbows digging into the soil. They weren’t wearing gloves, so the dirt caked their dark arms.
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Good. If something escaped my notice, she could still catch it instead.
The Vorak did not move while I slowly made my way through the greenhouse. It was impossible for Rende Braskin not to have heard me approach, so the lack of reaction must have been intentional.
“Tell me, how hard is it to get dirt out of fur?” I asked.
Their head barely twitched, a single glance lingering in my direction for only a moment. They noticed Nai hadn’t come in with me.
Still, they elected to ignore me, continuing to dig toward the bottom of the planter box. I leaned against a nearby table, waiting for them to finish.
I wasn’t going to beg.
Though I did see a dusty round object set aside. It seemed likely that was the seed they were digging the hole for…If the Vorak wanted to be childish, I could play along.
“Hand me the pail of water, would you?” they asked without turning toward me. They jutted a muddy hand toward a jug resting on one of the nearby tables of pots.
I grabbed the jug and handed it to them, curious to see how dismissive the Vorak was determined to be.
They did not say thanks.
That didn’t bode well, but I didn’t let that thought show.
Rende Braskin took the water, pouring it against the sides of the hole, causing wet dirt to tumble down to the bottom of the pot. They emptied half the jug, collapsing most of the walls of the hole they’d dug, before they picked their trowel back up and resumed digging the hole.
I walked forward, wanting a better view of the arcane gardening Rende Braskin had decided to focus on. Some Vorak ritual?
Ritual gardening wasn’t the weirdest alien idea I’d entertained, but I wasn’t so sure that was the case here.
They brazenly kept digging without another word, adding more water again, ruining the hole again, and digging down again until finally they seemed satisfied enough to put the seed in the pot.
A reaction finally crossed their face when they turned to pick it up, only to find it missing.
Their gaze snapped to me a little too quickly for someone apparently so absorbed in their work.
I inspected the seed in my hands, looking at its black grooved surface.
“Would you like to plant the seed yourself?” the Vorak asked steadily. I smiled.
“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” I replied.
“…Soap,” they said, almost begrudgingly. Almost. “Soap, oils, and by taking care to avoid grime in the first place.”
“No thanks,” I answered in turn, tossing them the seed. “Why get so muddy then?”
Rende caught the seed, placing it at the bottom of their wet pit of dirt. They pulled at the soaked sides of the hole by hand, covering the seed.
“…Because there is work best done by hand,” they replied. “I am Rende Braskin.”
“I am Caleb Hane,” I returned.
“I know,” they said. “Everyone who’s anyone has heard of you, and quite a bit more people beyond that. When I first heard the new alien was going to wind up here…I was floored.”
“Why? Everyone who’s anyone knows the Red Sails tried to kill me. Why wouldn’t I go to a Coalition stronghold?”
“Oh your movements make sense. No, I was so surprised because I knew Sendin Marfek, once upon a time.”
A chill went through my blood. Not how I expected things to start…
They turned to face me squarely, looking me dead in the eye.
For the first time, I felt like I might have been in danger from the otter.
“I was even sweet on her once…” they said. “So imagine my surprise when her sister sends me a message, about eight months ago now. She says the Red Sails have a hostile First Contact on their hands, and that this alien has killed dear Marfek. You know she asked me to help kill you a few months ago?”
“And you still agreed to this meeting?” I asked.
“I know my place,” they shrugged. “I was never going to be much help to an assassination.”
“…Unless something crazy happened,” I said. “Like the target actually contacting you…”
“Are you perhaps feeling unsafe?” they asked me.
“All the time,” I said honestly. “But not because of you. Your office refused to keep this meeting confidential. If something happens to me now, it will come down on your head.”
“So sure, are you?”
They were trying to rattle me. I wasn’t fazed…visibly, at least.
“Sorry to spoil your fun,” I pivoted. “But I didn’t actually kill Sendin Marfek.”
“A reputable source has an eyewitness saying otherwise,” Rende said. “It’s then no wonder the Coalition is so eager to shelter you.”
This was just odd. A source having a witness wasn't the same as just a witness. What were they trying to call me on?
“I’m sure those witnesses would know the cause of death, the state of her person, and other details that surely only those present would know…” I said. “Because I can tell you exactly where the bullet went through her skull. I can tell you exactly what injuries she had before her death. I can tell you exactly which ones I gave her, and I can show you the exact ones she gave me. We fought, she won, but not quick enough. Someone else shot her. And I won’t say who.”
Rende’s eyes narrowed at me, trying to see if I was lying. The flicker of anger I caught reassured me. They believed me and weren’t happy at all about it.
“I knew her,” Rende said. “She would not have tried to kill someone in your supposed condition without a good reason.”
“She was just following orders,” I agreed harshly. “Vorak know plenty about that, don’t you?”
“Only a fool speaks confidently about which they know nothing,” Rende spat, letting anger into their voice. How affected was that? It seemed like it could be an act.
“It was said to the Prime Retinue,” I quoted, “the leader is responsible for the orders they give and those who carry them out. But every soul is responsible for the acts of their own hands.”
“…You’ve read Atho Azinza?”
“The Coalition let me sit in on some history courses, “ I said. “The most infamous Vorak of all time came up, yeah.”
“…I didn’t expect that,” they admitted.
“Your expectations aren’t what I want to talk about,” I said. “I don’t really care about your opinions. I don’t care if you keep hating me for what happened to Sendin. It just doesn’t change the fact that I don’t actually need you.”
“You don’t?” they asked. “You requested this meeting.”
“I’d like your help,” I admitted. “It would be convenient. But I am in no way depending on anything you can do for me.”
The fact that they’d shown up was more than enough to give me what I wanted.
“I’ve had people ask for favors of me who didn’t care what I wanted,” Rende said. “But never someone who didn’t care what they could get from me…”
Their eyes twitched knowingly.
“…Unless that is the point. You don’t need anything from me, but you can get something else just by meeting me.”
I didn’t reply. They were wholly correct.
“Is that a problem?” I asked. It would be if they kept talking about it. I didn't want to give anything away.
“Maybe. I’m not sure I like being used. Why shouldn’t I walk out of here right now? Or call up Sendin Trakin?”
“Because if you even think about trying to materialize something without warning me,” I added, seemingly changing the subject, “I’ll put a knife in your throat before you can blink.”
They froze, caught between too many different knee-jerk reactions.
I grinned.
That had caught them off guard.
“See, I can tell what you’re thinking. It wasn’t even a second on your face, but you had to fight the urge to lie just then. You wanted to blurt out ‘I’m not Adept’.”
I didn’t fight the grin on my face. I was getting a handle on this Vorak, and they knew it. Still, overconfidence wouldn’t do.
“You want to deny the Adeptry—keep it secret. But you're in the public eye; you don't want to be caught in a lie.” I said. “Go on, ask how I was already certain.”
“…The trowel,” they said after thinking.
For a second, I wasn’t sure what they were talking about. The trowel they’d been digging with. There wasn’t a bucket of tools around, or any racks in this greenhouse to store it on. The rak hadn’t brought it here…
It must have been Adept created. I’d missed that.
I played it off with a smile.
“That among other things,” I said vaguely. No need to mention I’d sensed so psionically the moment I walked in. “The real interesting part is that no one has any idea. How much work have you put into hiding your Adeptry from public knowledge?”
“It’s not something that has much bearing on my life,” they said. “I practically never use it.”
“And, what? You thought I wouldn’t notice? If I wasn’t desperate for every scrap of Adeptry I could learn, I’d have died long before Sendin Marfek.”
Their eyes narrowed at me again.
“You keep bringing her up...You are trying to provoke me,” they decided.
I shrugged. “I just don’t care one way or the other. But I want to know things you can tell me. So when you come to a meeting like this and make the first impression you did, I stop caring if you’re…unprovoked.”
The Vorak stared at me, and within my mind I was daring them to play dumb. The routine with the pot, the seed, the water, over and over again was just that. A routine.
“The next time you want to try prodding me for a reaction,” I said, “don’t try making up a seed planting ritual. So…are we done with the [bullshit?] Or are you ready to have some real words?”
The mask peeled back like a curtain, a warm and rueful smile sweeping across their face.
“You’re sharp,” they conceded. “But I appreciate the directness. I’m looking to enter an election within the year, and non-Adepts are just more…relatable. So I’d prefer you keep my abilities to yourself. What do you want in return?”
“…Are you really friends with Sendin Marfek and the sister?”
“Yes,” Rende Braskin said, seeming genuinely solemn for a moment. “But she was no pup. She knew the risks of her work. Or are we not done with the…what was it again?”
“I want two things,” I moved on. “First, you’re going to tell me every piece of information you’ve heard about me, rumor or fact. And second, you’re going to find a way to find out about the other humans the Red Sails are keeping on Archo.”
“…Other humans?” they asked.
“Other humans,” I confirmed. “Tell me everything you’ve heard about me, and I’ll tell you a story in turn.”
Rende seemed like a snake, but they were at least curious enough to hear me out. They acceded, wiping their hands before finding me a stool.
I was disappointed to learn that they had not been told much by Sendin Marfek’s sister. But that piece of information was still something new. Tispas and Tox, whatever the state of their feud, had been careful to control any information about humans from getting out for months.
So for the other Sendin sister to know of us, she had to be trusted by one of them.
I kept my side of the story simple. Abducted. Found by Vorak. Butted heads. Hunted down.
“You truly did not kill Marfek?” Rende asked me.
I shook my head.
“No. But…I’ve learned somewhat recently that she probably wasn’t trying very hard to kill me.”
“She was a peerless Adept,” Rende said. “Truly brilliant in ways I cannot even begin to describe. Trakin wants your head, and I still have half a mind to help.”
“You’re all talk,” I said. “But—Trakin, that’s the sister?”
They nodded.
Good to know.
“Has any Vorak talked to you about me in the last two months?” I asked.
“Sendin Trakin inquired of your arrival a bit more than seven weeks ago. I don’t believe you’d landed on Lakandt yet. No one else has approached me.”
“You seem awfully disclosing about what other Vorak have said,” I noticed.
“I intend to run for office and this is still Lakandt,” they said. “I’m no true friend of the Coalition, but I’m not going to ignore the fact that it’s the Red Sails doing the occupying. If nothing else, it would be political suicide.”
“So why are you so friendly with Red Sails officers?” I asked.
“It's been a while, but this war hasn’t been going on that long,” they said. “Before the Sails were occupying Shirao's inner planets, they came through the system fairly regularly. They had a much better reputation back then. When I was younger, I got to know some of them. Good people.”
“But not enough of them?” I asked. “Or…not the right ones? You’ve lived on Lakandt your whole life. The Red Sails might be Vorak, but they’re occupying your home too.”
“My home is High Harbor,” Rende corrected. “And the Assembly’s fleets haven’t held Lakandt since the war began. But…you are not wrong. I have some longtime and dear friends among the Sails. I believe each of them will carry out their orders as justly as possible…”
“But this star is still your home, and they’re occupying it,” I said.
They nodded quietly.
“…You should have picked a different greenhouse.”
“Hmm? Ah, yes I suppose so. I’ve never actually set foot on Kraknor. These plants might seem as unfamiliar to me as you.”
“Then will you help me?” I asked. “I won’t say how I know, but the Sails are holding more than fifty other human abductees captive. They’re not being given proper First Contact protocols, and I can’t be sure they won’t become hostages for me and the Coalition if things keep going the way they are.”
“Yes,” Rende said. “Yes, I think I will. I make no promises, but I will ask around.”
“I’ll keep quiet about the Adeptry then,” I agreed.
“Thank you,” they said, hiding a guilty look.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I said. “Whatever you find, give it to Ase Serralinitus.”
"That's it?"
"That's it," I confirmed. "Like I said, getting your help wasn't why I came. The possibility was just a bonus."
"Hmm," Rende mused. “I’ll let you leave first. I think I should spend a little more time in this greenhouse and actually learn how some of these plants work.”
Hah.
<[I can’t believe you just threatened them like that,]> Nora said.
<[Maybe just hearing the sound doesn’t capture the full picture, but they were trying to intimidate me. I had to get them to back off.]>
<[Well I’m glad no one got shot,]> she said.
It had always been unlikely. We were never going to start a fight, and the guards had their employers reputation to think of. Starting a fight with the local military was a bad look.
But there was still one unanswered question so far. Of the two goals we’d come here with, inquiring with Rende Braskin was by far the lesser.
<[Jackpot,]> she sent.
Jackpot indeed. A threat to my life wasn’t the only possibility my security had been focused on. Eavesdroppers was the one I had been anticipating. One kind in particular.
I dissolved the exotic antenna I’d materialized inside one of my sleeves. Nai had been carrying a similar antenna, and depending on how we calibrated the two, we could detect all the local broadcasting. After that, locating each signal’s source was just a matter of math.
Given this signal Nai had found, I allowed myself to believe our trap had worked.
A mysterious, yet public, meeting between a local Vorak icon and the human?
There had never been any doubt: whoever controlled the first eavesdropping drone would certainly try to get ears on this conversation.
And now we had them.
If there were more drones, we could find them now. And if we could find them, we could find the other humans they were surveilling.