Scrutiny
The more people who know a secret, the harder it is to keep.
Oh boy, was I stress testing that…
Between me, Nai, Nora, Nerin, Serral, Shinshay, more than twenty Tiv clones, every single member of our Adept workshop, and the eight rotating bodyguards, we had nearly fifty psionic-enabled people ready to track down any transmitting drone inside High Harbor base.
With such a deep bench, we could afford to scatter ourselves widely, seemingly attending different duties across the base as normal. Doing rounds at the military hospital, testing hardware in the R&D labs, looking in on trainees’ courses. There were at least a few of us in every corner of the base, all forming a massive net.
All of them were carrying Adept-made antenna, sensitive to radio transmissions, and capable of translating those signals into psionic packets to exchange through our net
Every little packet of psionic data was manually exchanged through each person, until it made its way back to me, at the center of it all, trying not to die.
Real blood, sweat, and tears had gone into this plan. And the suffering wasn’t over yet…
“[Oh God, please let this go quickly…]” I muttered. I’d been tasting copper all morning. My third nosebleed of the day seemed perilously close to cancelling our efforts on medical grounds.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Dyn asked me.
“As sure as I can be,” I said. “The bleeding is just from blood pressure in my head. I think. As long as I’m lying down, I can keep my heartrate down. I should be able to cope.”
I was juggling enough psionics to earn neurological strain.
“I’m ending this if it goes longer than ten minutes,” he said. “Worst comes to worst, you can always try again later.”
“Actually, we probably can’t,” I said. “We’re looking for surveillance devices. If the surveillors learn that we know to look? We can [kiss] our chances goodbye.”
“Still,” Dyn said, shaking his head. “Ten minutes. No longer.”
“Twelve?” I tried.
“Ten,” he insisted, “starting now, actually.”
“…Fine.”
I could manage this.
Through our network, I dropped a signal that would light up the right channel on the psionic transceiver.
Small scale testing had proved it was possible to rip the data collected in the antennas’ psionics, and relay it to someone else without needing it to be fully comprehended by the relaying party. Even non-Adepts could manipulate psionic constructs in contact with their own minds. You only had to be Adept to create new psionics from nothing.
The constructs to record the data were pre-embedded onto the antennas, so they just had to be extracted afterwards and relayed.
One by one, ‘ready’ checks made their way from mind, to mind, to me. Forty-eight ‘ready’ signals came back without any hitches, and we officially got underway.
The pressure in my head was awful. Trying to maintain any detailed awareness in the network made me feel like I would pass out. Nai’s was the only mind I was staying properly linked with via the superconnector. But for everyone else, I was relying on far more volatile connections.
Part of the antennae's psionic module included a modified copy of the spatial processor. Without it, we wouldn’t be able to track the positions of the antenna in real time. Trouble was, those constructs needed to stay interconnected.
So I had to cope with a semi-direct connection to the positioning module for forty-eight antennas. The original plan had been to maintain a wholly direct connection to all the antennas at once, and also transmit the signal data directly to me.
But receiving just the location data was taxing me past my limits, revealing another limitation on the superconnector: it wasn’t suited for multiple different types of connections simultaneously.
Or…maybe it was, and I just hadn’t figured out how to optimize for that application.
But, whatever our hang-ups, we’d made it to this point. I just had to sit still, avoid focusing on the precise location of any single antenna, and we could be done before lunch.
The eight minutes crawled by with Dyn pacing nervously and me keeping stock still.
Bit by bit the data was passed to me with Nai serving as a stopgap if I couldn’t handle it all at once. I would collate & format it before shoving it toward Nora and Shinshay.
Nora had made the mad breakthrough of Adeptry sensitive to psionics, and with Shinshay’s help, they’d created a computer setup capable of receiving the psionic data I’d reformatted into binary code.
The end result was a sensitivity-adjustable heatmap of transmissions from everywhere on High Harbor base. I couldn’t wait to look at it.
Dyn looked like he might shut down our first round of data collection prematurely, but I kept my poker face up. As long as I didn’t look like I was straining too much, we should be fine to collect at least once more. Maybe I could do two, if I took a break.
I suspended the connection, allowing the antenna positions to fall away from my mind. It was like taking off socks after a long day of practice.
“[Ohhh…sweet Christmas, that feels good,]” I said. “…See Dyn? I’m fine.”
I climbed to my feet deliberately, taking extra care to keep the vertigo from making me stumble.
“That act might have been convincing if you weren’t bleeding again,” he said.
I touched my nose, fingertips coming away bloody.
Very bloody.
“[Aww, crap,]” I muttered. “You have a towel or something? Bandages?”
“Yes,” Dyn said ruefully, grabbing me some rags. “You aren’t Adepting yourself any?”
“I—” I clapped my mouth shut. My ‘I’m fine’ act could use some work, huh? “I’m not in perfect shape, I’ll concede that. But it’s just because my brain’s attention is completely in ‘psionics’ mode. It would be hard to focus on Adeptry right now.”
“You’re not doing this again,” Dyn said firmly.
“Oh come on,” I argued. “I can do at least one more. Every bit of data we collect is huge. I—”
I couldn’t tell him exactly what we were looking for; he wasn’t read in. But surely he could guess how important it was.
“I wouldn’t be looking for anything if it wasn’t important,” I said.
“I don’t care how important the data is,” he shrugged. “You’re not in any condition to continue, and if you try to do so anyway, I’ll track down Tiv. He can share psionics with me, and then I can properly keep an eye on you.”
“Compromise,” I offered. “We went for ten minutes now, give me an hour to rest, and we can try again for, say…eight minutes.”
“No,” Dyn firmly repeated.
“Six minutes,” I countered.
“…Two minutes.”
Aha. An opening.
“Five minutes.”
“Two,” he repeated.
I opened my mouth to try for four, but Dyn cut me off. “Try anything higher, and I’ll sedate you right now.”
“You don’t have any sedatives for human physiology,” I frowned.
“The Organic Authority found one,” he reminded me. “You think I’m not one of those people who accessed your data?”
“Wait, they included the composition of the sedative Maburic used?” I asked.
“No, but I figured it out with what I already knew.”
“…Two minutes,” I conceded.
“Only after at least an hour’s rest,” he said.
“Fine, fine…” I muttered.
The message went out to Nai, Nora, and Serral. They could make sure the message reached everyone else.
<…I’m getting impressions of…riding animals,> she said.
“Shut them down wholesale,” Dyn said. “Don’t just scale back the activity; blackout everything. I want your brain actually resting.”
“Fff…iiinnneee…” I drawled. I could be melodramatic too.
Truth be told, resting was probably a good idea. I kept a pretty busy, yet irregular, calendar recently. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just laid down for a nap. Had I been on another planet the last time I tried decompressing?
Jeez.
I’d even talked to Nora about such. I needed to get better at following my own advice.
·····
The hour went by quickly, so much that a flicker of irritability went through me when it was time to continue. I’d actually settled in peacefully while Dyn fiddled with a computer.
But I had fought for these two minutes. I was obligated to see them through.
I was in for a rude awakening when I reactivated my psionics.
Serral said.
I rolled my eyes. Maybe Nai would know more. She was on the same channel as her sister.
I extricated myself from that psionic channel and went hunting. Tiv had taken well to the communicative elements of psionics, and he’d modified his transceiver to have extra channels beyond just the 512 that the intro-module featured.
Finding the customized channel didn’t take me more than a few seconds.
I frowned, redirecting another message toward Nora.
<…Tiv says he’s supposed to stop me from communicating psionically?> she replied.
<… Why?>
They really did seem concerned that someone was listening in on psionic channels.
Why though? That was a solved problem. The first thing I’d done once we realized psionics spread beyond the Coalition was invent psionic encryption. Once it had been proven the Coalition could still keep its psionic communications secure, I’d been able to hand it off to other Coalition Adepts.
They’d been inventing new encryption methods and refining the ones I’d come up with for weeks now. It was good stuff, but not so far separated from me that I couldn’t still unravel any psionic communication I wanted to.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
So I would know if their encryption had been broken.
Which brought us full circle. If the contingency was still intact, what was Laranta hopped up about?
Nai collected me from Dyn’s infirmary a few minutes later.
I followed her out of the building, not particularly surprised when she didn’t head for the base trams. Between her augmentations and Adeptry, Nai could outpace the trams just by moving in a straight line toward her destination.
It was her travel plan of choice in a pinch.
Probably wise she hadn’t said anything in front of Dyn. He might have objected to me running after her.
“You didn’t check in,” I accused as we ran.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was sidetracked, and I’m only just finding out now.”
“…You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Trust me?” she asked.
“Hivivi,” I answered. The word blazed new implications in my brain as I grasped the meaning in Nai’s native tongue.
“I’m upset with what Laranta and Serral are thinking,” she said, “and you deserve to hear it from them.”
“What does it have to do with Nora?” I asked.
“Like I said,” Nai grimaced, “they should be the ones who have to tell you.”
“…Okay.”
Nai and I made our way to the administrative complex where a cadre of armed Casti quickly directed us inside and underground.
I didn’t miss the number of Adepts that were moving through this section of the facility. Every one of them was pushing their cascades wide and far.
In the depths of a small maze of hallways and offices, Laranta herself was waiting with Serral. All parties wore dire expressions.
“Talk,” I barked, wasting no time.
Laranta hesitated, looking to Serral first.
“He’s going to hear it from me if not you,” Nai said. Her voice was dripping venom. I hadn’t actually seen her this angry at anyone but me before.
“Caleb…” Laranta began slowly, “exactly how well do you know Ms. Clarke?”
“Just fine. We’re not that close, but bonding is a process; it’s not instant.”
“Do you trust her?” Laranta asked.
I frowned. What kind of a question was that?
“Or course,” I said. “Are you saying there’s a reason not to?”
“That’s…complicated,”
“She wants to detain Nora,” Nai explained, unsatisfied with the Admiral’s pace.
Serral opened his mouth to countermand her, but she corrected herself.
“They don’t want to. But they’re considering doing so.”
“…Why?” I said.
“The drone,” Serral said. “Questions have been raised…about its source.”
“…What?”
“Caleb, you know since we arrived on Lakandt, my assignment has been managing you, correct?” Serral asked. “And now that’s come to include Nora.”
Serral didn’t neatly fit into the Lakandt command structure otherwise. Before he’d been in command of a critical but isolated base on another planet.
“Yeah, I’m aware ,” I said. “So why is this the first time we’re hearing about it?”
“Because we weren’t thinking about it before now,” Serral said. “This is us talking to you about it. I am the officer primarily in charge of matters related to you and your First Contact events. But I’m not the only officer involved.”
“Several of my Ase have identified some unlikely, yet unignorable concerns about Nora Clarke,” Laranta said.
“You’re trying to sweeten a bitter pill,” I accused. “Stop circling your point, and say it already.”
I didn’t care to think what it said about them that both Laranta and Serral both hesitated.
“…They think Nora could have made the drone,” Nai said. “When she shoved her hand through the ceiling, she could have created the drone herself.”
“…And why, oh why, would she possibly do that?” I asked incredulously.
“You first met her cooperating with Vorak. It’s not impossible that she could still be cooperating with them, or even that your abductors are somehow in contact with her,” Laranta said. Her smooth yet rasping voice was the only calm one present. “However infinitesimally unlikely it is, the possibility has been raised and seems increasingly difficult to disprove.”
“…And?” I asked. “What? You just wanted to consult me? To be polite?”
“We’re consulting you because you’ve been around longer. Those with concerns know more of you, so when Ase Serralinitus vouches for you to his peers, they listen. But Nora is much newer, and the circumstances that brought her here are…more dubious,” Laranta said.
“Serral’s peers?” I said, unimpressed. “They’re your subordinates. Aren’t you in charge of everyone here?”
“Caleb, Laranta directly commands more than forty Ase. And it’s not a small number of them bringing this up. The possibility was scrutinized by almost twenty of them…with your exact response in mind. This isn’t an accusation; there’s nothing certain…but it’s not an insignificant concern.”
“I’m supposed to feel better about this because you guys feel like you did your due diligence?” I asked. “If there’s nothing certain, what has your ‘peers’ so spooked?”
“…The theory has been floated before, but Nora’s psionic sensitive material is what’s bringing it up now,” Serral said. “She can make Adept nerves that respond to psionic signals, yes?”
“Yeah…?” I said slowly. She’d been eager to share the concept with the workshop. This wasn’t secret.
“How difficult would it be to apply the same concept to a machine—Adept made or not?”
“…Not at all,” I admitted. “It...it would actually be even simpler. The control interface wouldn’t have to be nearly as flexible.”
“The drone she discovered; you were the only other one besides Nora to get a good look at it. You’re sure it was mechanical? With silicate processors? Microelectronics like those from Earth?” Serral prodded. He was trying to be gentle. He must have figured this would sting less coming from someone I knew.
But the thought I was being steered to was agony, no matter the source.
“The only place any alien knows electronics like that exist…” I said.
“…Is Earth,” Laranta finished my thought.
I didn’t have a read on what she thought of this. She had too firm a grasp on her own expressions.
“This isn’t just about Nora…” I said. “She’s catching the flak because a Vorak was helping her, and that has the Ase s wondering just how else she might have been cooperating with them, and if they’re cooperating somehow with Earth.”
“Some of my smartest Ase are thinking Nora might be more aware than she’s claimed of just what all the Vorak know about your abductions,” Laranta said. “Even if it isn’t the Vorak who abducted you, it’s possible they’ve contacted, or been contacted, by the abductor in the meantime.”
“This is [fucking] cold,” I said. “If you think Nora knows something about the abductions she hasn’t shared, you are badly out of touch.”
“‘Think’ is too strong a word,” Serral said. “This is only a possibility that, when compared to what we know and can prove, isn’t impossible.”
“…Because all we have is testimony,” I sighed. “You can’t verify what I or Nora say happened.”
“Oh, I can,” Nai grumbled. “I’ve fucking seen it with your own eyes.”
“…But psionics aren’t reliable enough to prove it,” I said.
My blood was ice cold as I forced myself to stay rational.
Laranta was no doubt doing the same thing, in her own Casti way. She was making a dispassionate call, no matter how much it stung.
“…It’s not like we can freely trade memories with just anyone. And even if we could, humans made psionics, so that leaves room for doubt,” I said.
“If it counts for anything,” Serral said, “no one is casting any aspersions on you. Nor do I agree with this decision.”
“I imagine it counts for nothing,” Laranta said plainly. At least she was aware of that.
The worse part was, there was an outside chance they were right. In Red Sails custody had to be the A ships we’d all been abducted on. If the Vorak could get into the computers on those ships, they could reverse engineer their trajectories, find out exactly where they’d entered this system, and keep going all the way back to Earth.
Or maybe they were still stuck on step one, and the Vorak were scratching their heads over just what kind of computers they were dealing with.
But without more direct access to the Vorak, the abductor, or their technology…the discussion was moot. None of it could be proved.
And given the risks involved, a military wouldn’t care about the burden of proof. Not for something this enormous. Even if the Coalition was polite about it…without compelling evidence Nora wasn’t involved, they’d detain her.
Which brought us back full circle: use psionics to detect more drones instead of wasting time detaining Nora.
The Admiral was the one to convince. It didn’t matter what all the Ase thought might be possible. If Laranta could be convinced, her orders would supersede any doubts. Her orders were what was detaining Nora right now.
That had to be my focus. Nora couldn’t be involved. There was no real reason to think she was. The only reason they thought she might be is because she could be, in the vaguest sense possible.
My brain was still hurting from earlier. My limbs were tired from running all the way here. But we were playing for keeps right now. No excuses.
“What’s your plan here?” I asked. “You can’t possibly think locking her up by force will work, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“We don’t want to imprison her indefinitely, or at all…” Laranta said. “But we need to limit her movements and information for a few days while we learn just what these drones are.”
“You’re just going to ask her to stay locked up so you can look carefully at whether or not she’s a traitor?”
“She can’t be a traitor,” Laranta pointed out, “she’s not part of the Coalition.”
“Hostile then,” I snapped. “Either way: you can’t possibly expect me or her to go along with this.”
Laranta and Serral both grimaced guiltily.
“…The Ase s actually did want your help in floating the idea to her,” Serral admitted.
“You cannot be serious,” I said.
“If you’re willing to help, Caleb, I would appreciate it, but I’m not asking for your approval. This is…a balance of risk. Nothing more.”
“And I’m supposed to feel grateful for the honesty?” I hissed. “We had a deal Laranta! I give you psionics—this mighty weapon! And you help me help humans! Help me understand when that deal stopped applying.”
Truth was, I knew where. I didn’t want to admit it out loud, but my end of the deal was more or less spent. They had psionics. Even if the Coalition could still benefit immensely from my abilities…
They didn’t need me anymore.
Laranta’s expression froze for a millisecond. The same thought had gone through her mind. Angry with her as I was, I couldn’t help but respect what she said next.
“The truth is we can afford not to honor that deal,” Laranta whispered.
The harsh truth. It didn’t favor her, but she’d said so anyway—just in case I hadn’t gotten there on my own.
“But we will,” Nai said ominously. She was a hair trigger away from slinging flames. “Won’t we?”
“Yes,” Laranta agreed. “I have no intention of abandoning any Human abductees. But exactly how best to help them isn’t clear. And if we can learn more about Nora’s credibility, the best path forward becomes significantly clearer—whether she’s trustworthy or not.”
“Just what exactly is Nora untrustworthy of?” I asked. “I can’t believe there’s any reason to think so. What could possibly cause you to think this is a reasonable justification of anything?”
“Please!” Laranta rasped. “Can you trust that I’m working in her best interest? I wouldn’t ask her to consent to detention if there was nothing in it for her! The Coalition is invested in protecting you two, no matter what kind of deal we’ve made, I am committed to that, Caleb. Otherwise, I would have turned you back over to the Vorak for lesser concessions.”
“Lesser?” I asked. “I take it that means you would have turned us over for more?”
“Not ‘us’,” Larnata said. “Just you, back when it was just you. Months ago, negotiations did happen where custody of you was a topic.”
“So which is it?” I asked. “Are you committed? Or is there a prize you’d trade me for?”
“I am committed,” Laranta reaffirmed. “I’m committed because I know my price is not one the Vorak would ever be willing to pay.”
“…Alright, tell me. What would they have to offer you to turn us—both of us—over, today?” I said. My eyes met Laranta’s. She radiated pain but didn’t flinch.
“…Six colonies,” Laranta said. “They would have to be the right ones, but…I would surrender custody of you and Nora if the Vorak withdrew from the right six colonies in exchange.”
“Important ones?” I asked. “Crucial supply locations, or places with special resources? Things that would save lives?”
She nodded.
“More generically then,” I said. “How many non-specific colonies would the Vorak have to offer?”
“Do you want to hear an exact number?” she asked. “Do you want to hear exactly what might be valuable enough to abandon you to the Red Sails?”
“I want to know what you asked for when you offered me to them,” I said.
I didn’t know for sure she actually had done that. But I was finding myself…trusting…the openness. She had her goals. And my abduction and arrival didn’t change that.
“Archo,” she said. “initially, I asked for more than that, but I was negotiating toward a complete Red Sails withdrawal from Archo.”
A whole moon in exchange for little old me.
Nai’s anger saw her stay completely still, but her mind was furious like a bonfire.
Funnily enough, I was having the opposite reaction. I felt like I was understanding Laranta better. Even if she was an ally, even if she might be a friend, she wasn’t friendly.
She was in charge.
“Why didn’t that continue?” I asked. “If you were trying to make that exchange happen, you could. But you aren’t. Why?”
“Because…just because I have a price, doesn’t mean I’ll advertise it,” she said. “And don’t think that’s me being charitable either. Right now the Coalition is protected by the Vorak’s ignorance. They fear what we might know about you. Pressing forward with that deal reveals our hand.”
“And you fear what my abductors might know about you,” I said. “If you’re so worried about Nora having made the drone, then you shouldn’t have stopped us from looking for it. She’s integral to our search method.”
“The problem is what we do if we find the drone,” Larnata said. “If Nora really did make it, then I have no doubt you really will find one. And it will point wherever she wants it to.”
“If we find the drone, then maybe Nora put it there; but if we don’t find a drone, then she must have kept it from detection?” I asked. “If finding more evidence doesn’t change anything, what could possibly change your mind?”
“Time,” Laranta admitted. “These suspicions are only immediately concerning. We can get more and better information as events progress, and I have no doubt we’ll learn all our suspicions of Ms. Clarke are wholly unfounded. But my mind doesn’t need to be changed. I don’t think she’s involved or guilty, Caleb. Understand that, and know that I’m choosing to do this anyway.”
“…Just to save yourself some risk?” I hissed.
“Yes,” she said, locking eyes with me. “I send my own people’s sons and daughters to die for a cause we believe in. You really think I won’t lock up someone who probably doesn’t deserve it?”
“…What am I supposed to do?” I croaked, voice raw. “You can’t possibly expect me to be okay with this.”
For the slightest second, I saw Laranta’s expression soften a tiny fraction. It wrenched my soul to understand her position. I hated that she was being honest about it.
She didn’t have enough information to make a better call, and to be safe she was ready to harm someone if she had to.
It was the worst moment in my life, but I remembered being in that situation too.
“Please,” I begged. “Don’t lock her in a cage. If you can be honest with me, do the same for her. Explain yourself, and give her a chance to prove that she’s trustworthy.”
Laranta stared into my soul, and I thought in my bones that she wasn’t going to give.
“I’ll vouch for her,” Nai said.
“That’s not the issue,” Laranta sighed.
“I don’t care,” Nai hissed. “I might not have the same exhaustive picture of her mind like I do Caleb, but we’ve still interacted psionically plenty. She’s been living with us. She’s not capable of the quality of deception that the Ase s theory would require.”
“I have standing orders from the Admiralty Board Chair,” Laranta said. “It’s not enough to simply say so—”
“I am the Warlock,” Nai hissed. “And if I resigned my commission today? A thousand troops would follow suit before tomorrow. If the Coalition imprisons a First Contact solely on suspicion, then I will singlehandedly burn down whatever prison you care to put her in. If I’m such a Coalition hero, then it can listen when I say: this is wrong and stupid.”
Nai leaned close to Laranta.
“I am dead serious, auntie ,” she whispered. “If this is a cold balance of risk for you, account for how risky it is to ignore what I’m saying.”
The Admiral had not a single friend in the room. Not even herself. Everyone here wanted her to change her mind.
“…You told me once that you helped, because ‘you did not have a good enough reason not to’,” Laranta said. “But I have a good reason not to.”
“But not a good enough one,” I said.
“…No,” Laranta relented, looking at Nai, “it seems not.”
“Then let her go,” I said. “We’ll find whoever really made that drone, and then you can apologize to Nora.”
She relented.
“If I’m going to take this risk, then we’re going to optimize our possible gains. Caleb, go with Serral to the comm centers. If you’re detecting signal traffic on base, then these drone signals will stand out more if we silence all the normal transmissions in the same window.”
I nodded. That was an idea worth looking at.
“Thank you,” I told her.
“I’m not trusting her,” Laranta clarified. “I’m trusting you, Caleb. Please don’t let me regret this.”
“Just watch,” I said. “You’ll see.”