Starseers
Alisa thought Alejandro might object—he had certainly objected to her being around when he had spoken of the orb—but he nodded and strode out, a bounce to his step. Maybe he didn’t believe the Starseers would give whatever information he found to the Alliance government. Alisa knew little of the politics and interests here, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they were only letting him look because they hoped he would find something in the library that their academics had missed over the years. She didn’t know how likely that was, but maybe the orb would guide him. They slept together, after all. They had a relationship.
“Leonidas?” Alejandro said, looking back when he reached the door.
Leonidas and Abelardus had been busy exchanging flinty stares, but Leonidas broke his to grab his helmet. Alisa slumped as he walked out the door after Alejandro, wondering if she would ever get his story.
The door shut, leaving Alisa alone in the room with Naidoo, her blind eyes turned toward the door of the other bedroom, as if she could see Yumi in there meditating. Maybe she could.
“Do you have any news for me?” Alisa asked. “I’m not above bribery. I already offered to bring in a cargo of chocolate and coffee for your warriors.”
“Oh?” Naidoo smiled slightly. “Were they interested?”
“No, they were too busy glaring at Leonidas.”
Her smile disappeared, and her tone went flat. “The cyborg.”
“He’s an honorable man.”
“Who served the empire. Interesting that you would defend him.”
“He’s saved my life a few times since we met.”
“I had no idea that the lives of freighter captains were so perilous.”
“Things have changed since the war ended.” Alisa decided not to mention that things had mostly changed because she had been foolish enough to take on passengers who carried all manner of trouble in their luggage.
Naidoo chuckled and leaned on her staff. “I rarely converse with mundane humans anymore. They’re so seldom the same person inside as they display to the outside. You are.”
“It gets me in trouble.”
“I’m not surprised.” Naidoo walked forward and sat in one of the chairs, carefully leaning her staff against the armrest.
Alisa had stood when she and Abelardus came to the door, but she made herself sit down again now, even though she perched at the very edge, the blanket cast aside. Her coldness cast aside. “Did you find out anything about my daughter?”
“She’s not here. I’ve contacted the leaders of our sister temples, and none of the ones who answered promptly have heard of her.”
Alisa thumped her fist on the arm of her chair. “Is it possible there was someone who didn’t get your message yet? Someone who might reply that she is there?”
“The ladies at the three temples that run schools for the young, the three in addition to ours, all responded. They would have been the most likely to have received a new student. None of them did. Also, it’s not our policy to kidnap children from their parents.” She frowned darkly. “We’re not the empire. They were the ones who often took away Starseer babies, and then they tried to raise them as weapons.”
“I don’t mean to imply that you are like them,” Alisa said, struggling for patience. It was hard since she was not hearing the answer she wanted. “But I saw the surveillance video in my sister-in-law’s apartment. I saw the people who took her.”
“You did not see faces.”
It was not a question. Alisa no longer doubted that this woman could read her mind.
“No, but they were wearing your robes, and they clearly had some power. They waved their hands, and made Sylvia halt in place. She just stood there as they walked out with Jelena, and my daughter had this vacant look on her face, like she was being brainwashed.”
It had been alarming seeing that expression on Jelena. She was neither meek nor accepting by nature. Alisa remembered multiple conversations in which she had tried to explain that it wasn’t appropriate to stick one’s tongue out at one’s parents, teachers, neighbors, housebots, or the panhandler on the street corner who’d suggested little girls should be seen but not heard. Alisa had struggled to get that lesson to take, perhaps because Jelena had often seen her make sarcastic comments that were even less appropriate than tongues being stuck out.
“Blanked,” Naidoo murmured.
“What?”
“That’s the term we use. It’s a barrier we can construct in a person’s mind to keep them from accessing memories and thoughts momentarily.”
“Sounds disturbing.”
“It’s useful. It often prevents the need for physical violence.”
“Well, these kidnappers knew how to blank people then. They were definitely Starseers. Are you able to look up your kind in a database? Could you search for the name Durant? I’m not sure if that was a last name or a first name, but surely some matches would come up, and we could narrow things down. I already checked the sys-net, and there are tens of thousands of Durants out there, thousands just on Perun. There was no way to tick a checkbox and only get the Starseer ones, not that the empire or Alliance has thorough records involving your people.”
Naidoo shook her head. Frustrated, Alisa sat back in the chair, her shoulder blades thumping against it.
“I’ve already searched,” Naidoo said. “Nothing came up. It’s possible that those you saw were mundane people using a few tricks to make it appear that they were Starseers, to put the blame on our organization and distract searchers.”
Alisa scowled, not believing that. What tricks could have done what she had seen? Nothing that wouldn’t require instruments or drugs, and the camera hadn’t shown anyone using any tools.
“It’s also possible,” Naidoo said, “that they were rogue Starseers. We are not a completely united organization. Some people develop some of the talents without receiving any formal training. Others are trained in our schools but then go their separate ways.”
“What, they don’t want to pay the membership dues?”
“Differences of opinion mostly.” Naidoo chuckled. “The dues aren’t that high.”
Alisa was not in the mood to chuckle.
“It’s rare for those people to work in concert once they leave the temple, but it’s certainly possible that some of them chose to do so for a joint goal.”
“What kind of joint goal could involve an eight-year-old girl? It’s not like our family was special. We’re not heirs to the imperial throne. You can probably tell just by looking at my ship.”
Naidoo smiled. “I hear it’s rustic.”
Rustic, right.
“I regret that I cannot help you further. You are welcome to remain here until you’re rested and your engineer has completed any repairs necessary to your ship.” Naidoo stood up, reclaiming her staff. “If you won’t find my advice presumptuous, I suggest you leave as soon as your repairs are complete. I also suggest you part ways from Dr. Dominguez and the cyborg. What they seek is nothing that you want to return to the system.”
“Yeah, I’ve already figured that out.”
Naidoo tilted her head, regarding her curiously. “Then why stay with them?”
Alisa blushed as thoughts of massages and Leonidas with his shirt off entered her mind.
“Ah,” Naidoo said. Fortunately, she walked out without further commentary.
Alisa rubbed her face. “I’m an idiot.”
After the door shut, Yumi walked out of the bedroom. Alisa had almost forgotten she was in there. Her eyes were red. Maybe she had been crying instead of meditating.
“This trip wasn’t quite what I hoped for,” Alisa said.
“I should have known… not to have hopes.”
“I guess it could have been worse.” Alisa thought of the White Dragon ship, it and its dead crew now at the bottom of a frozen sea.
“True.” Yumi looked toward the door Naidoo had walked out. “Do you believe her?”
“I… haven’t had time to consider everything
fully yet. Why, don’t you?” Even as Alisa asked the question, she remembered the way Abelardus had reacted when she’d said the name Durant. Naidoo might not have shown anything, but he had seemed to recognize it. Was it possible he had known this person, someone who had left the organization, as Naidoo had suggested? Maybe Naidoo had lied about not knowing who Durant was.
“Given the modern, mission-control-central feel of the throne room, with those feeds coming in from all over the system, carefully sorted to display mentions of Starseers…” Yumi raised her eyebrows as she trailed off, perhaps asking if Alisa had noticed that too.
Alisa nodded.
“It seems that they would have ways to keep track of their own people,” Yumi continued. “Current members of the organization or not.”
“So, you’re saying I should try to make arrangements to go snooping around the facility, perhaps into that computer room or into the library where the doctor is researching?”
“Ah,” Yumi said. “Did I say that? I don’t think so.”
“It was implied.”
“There’s a guard outside of our door.”
“Is there?”
Alisa hadn’t noticed when Naidoo and Abelardus arrived. She stood and walked over to open the door—it was made of wood instead of ice. She poked her head into the hallway. Sure enough, one of the young, muscular Starseer warriors stood out there, looking alert and fierce as he returned her gaze, his staff in hand.
“Any chance of getting some refreshments?” Alisa asked.
He frowned at her, then focused on the extremely exciting opposite wall. Which was made of ice. Naturally.
Alisa closed the door and stepped back into the room. “You’re right. We are guarded.”
She drummed her fingers on the back of the sofa. A minute ago, she had been content to stay in this room until Alejandro finished his research, but now, she felt like a caged animal, itching to escape and have the freedom to roam the forest. Or the icy temple, in this case.
“My mother is going to come get me for breakfast shortly after dawn,” Yumi said. “I suppose that doesn’t help you with your snooping, but I could ask her about Naidoo and try to ferret out how trustworthy she is.”
“Do you think she would answer honestly?” Alisa hadn’t heard Ji-yoon speak more than a couple of words and had the impression that the woman wasn’t tickled that Yumi had come here and brought strangers.
“I don’t know. It’s been nearly twenty years since we spent time together, but I would probably have an easier time telling if she was lying than I would if we were dealing with a total stranger.”
“Assuming she doesn’t diddle with your mind.”
“I have a drug along that temporarily changes the chemical composition of the human brain and makes your thoughts harder for a Starseer to read. It was used by the military during the Order Wars. I believe the cyborgs even tried it, though they metabolized it quickly, making the window of potency short for them.”
“You’re going to drug yourself for your breakfast with your mother?”
Yumi smiled. “It crossed my mind, but perhaps not, since we have a guard. I didn’t know about the breakfast beforehand, so the substance—qui-gorn—is in my cabin on the ship.”
Alisa clasped her chin in her hand as she gazed at Yumi, ideas percolating through her mind. “Yumi, Naidoo referred to your mother as an archivist. What does she do exactly?”
“Archives things.” Yumi shrugged. “You might actually have a lot to talk to her about, though, since she’s also a pilot. I believe she was one of the Starseers friendly to the Alliance who participated in the war, flying around and providing intelligence for your side.” Yumi sighed wistfully. “I would so like to know her better. I wish she had an interest in knowing me.”
“She invited you to breakfast,” Alisa said, though she was rubbing her chin and thinking furiously, more intrigued by Yumi’s mother’s position as an archivist than the fact that she might have been an Alliance sympathizer. “Maybe she’s more interested than you know.”
“Actually, I suggested coffee or a meal,” Yumi said.
“Well, she said yes.”
“Reluctantly. She sounded like she had work to do.”
“Small victories, Yumi. Small victories.” Alisa lowered her hand and propped it on the back of the sofa. “What would your mother think if you invited your good friend, Captain Marchenko, to breakfast?”
“Good friends, Captain? I had no idea you felt that way about me.”
“I did offer you a job.”
“I heard you offered Leonidas a job too.”
“I did. As well as Mica. But sadly, Beck is the only one who’s officially agreed to employment. I can only assume that I’m a tyrannical shrew that nobody wants to work for.”
“I just don’t want to take your money. You seem to need it.”
Alisa acknowledged that truth with a wriggle of her fingers. “Whatever our relationship, I would consider it a favor if you would invite me along to breakfast with your mother.”
“I can certainly try. Like I said, you two have something in common as pilots, so she may be interested in talking to you.”
“Excellent. I would also consider it a favor if you would slip something into your mother’s meal to make her more amenable to telling the truth.”
“Uh, you want me to drug my mother?”
“Yes, will that be a problem?”
Chapter 8
“This isn’t going to work,” Yumi whispered.
“Just follow my lead,” Alisa whispered back, her hand on the doorknob. Since Yumi’s stockpile of herbs, powders, and dried mushrooms was back on the ship, they needed to get the guard to let them visit. So long as the man was reasonable and didn’t go rifling through their minds, Alisa hoped it would be possible.
“When we’re close to him, empty your mind and keep from focusing on your deceit,” Yumi said. “Even a warrior will have rudimentary telepathy and be able to read your surface thoughts.”
“Telepathy, is that what they call their weird skills?”
“As children, most of them learn telepathy, telekinesis, and something they call long-seeing.”
“Is that the thing where they see into stars?”
“Yes,” Yumi said. “Some of the specialists have other talents, such as precognition, matter manipulation, and pyrotechnics, but those are the basics. The ones trained as fighters usually aren’t as mentally adroit as the scholars, but most of them will be able to glimpse your surface thoughts. More skilled telepaths can dig in and find memories you’ve long forgotten.”
“Charming.”
“They are powerful enemies.”
“Good thing I don’t want to start a war with any of them,” Alisa said.
“You just want to drug them.”
“Drugs are happy-makers. Who could object?”
Yumi’s expression was dubious.
“Let’s do this,” Alisa murmured and opened the door.
The same guard stood outside, still staring at the opposite wall. Maybe he was practicing his mental skills. He turned his head to gaze indifferently over at them.
“When are those refreshments coming?” Alisa asked. “I’m dying to know what you people eat and drink up here.”
“Nourishment will be provided when it’s deemed necessary.”
“We actually can’t wait here indefinitely. My passenger has a flock of chickens on my freighter. She needs to go back to feed them. And I forgot to eat dinner since I was busy being chased and shot at by a mafia ship, so I’d like to raid my chocolate stash too.”
“I’ve been instructed to keep you in your rooms.” The guard had blue eyes that were similar in color to the icy walls, something Alisa noticed as they locked onto hers.
Her skin crawled as she sensed—or maybe just imagined him—probing into her thoughts.
Emptying her mind and trying not to think about something, as Yumi had suggested, was difficult. She decided to try to think about somet
hing else instead. What might repulse the man and make him want to stay out of her thoughts? Images of death? Of the atrocities she had seen in the war? No, he’d probably just wonder why she was thinking about these things. Instead, she smiled slightly as she found something more recent to contemplate.
In her mind, she went back to her conversation with Leonidas, the conversation about massages. She also remembered the times she had seen him with his shirt off, his thick, muscular torso on display, once in sickbay when Alejandro had been patching him up and once in his cabin, when she had woken him from his sleep. His hair had been tousled then, a pillow crease on his face, and the dim lighting of the corridor creating interesting shadows between his muscles. Before she got to the point of imagining herself giving him a massage, the guard’s lip curled up.
He looked over at Yumi. Whatever she was thinking about must not have come across as duplicitous, because he grunted and said, “Fine. I’ll escort you there and back. No detours.”
“Thank you,” Alisa said, tamping down the triumphant smile that wanted to curve her lips.
She kept her thoughts on Leonidas as they walked through the corridors, just in case the guard chose to dip back in to see what other clothes might come off.
She expected to find the Nomad’s cargo hatch closed, the ramp drawn up, and Beck inside with the heat cranked up as he snoozed in his bunk. It was well into the middle of the night and even colder than it had been when they first landed. The temple itself, with its ice walls, was cold, but the outdoor docks and landing pads, being open to the elements, were even more frigid.
When they reached the ship, Alisa was surprised to find the ramp down and Beck at the bottom, his grill set up with more skewers of duck sending smoke wafting into the crisp air as they cooked. Two men in black robes stood in front of his portable kitchen, chatting with him as they waved around skewers of half-eaten meat.
“Beck,” Alisa greeted, walking up.
He flinched when he noticed her, or maybe it was the fierce guard walking behind her that extracted the reaction. The expression of surprise faded quickly, and he smiled. “Hello, Captain. You’re up late.”
“The chickens needed to be fed,” Alisa said, pointing her thumb to Yumi and widening her eyes slightly, hoping Beck would notice the sign and not point out that they had been fed right before the group first went into the temple. “Got enough to share there?”