“You mean eavesdrop?”
“It’s not eavesdropping if they’re aware of me standing nearby. If they know I’m there, and they let something private slip out, then it’s negligence on their part.”
“An interesting take on the notion.”
“I aim to be interesting.”
“Go,” he said. “I’ll see if I can find a way in without alerting the night guard or breaking anything.”
Alisa felt pleased that he had noticed the night guard even without Starseer senses.
“Keep in touch,” she said and headed toward the intersection.
Their guest had already arrived. Light from a nearby lamp showed Abelardus in his robe and the rider in the same tight snagor-hide outfit he’d worn during the race.
He doesn’t want people to know he’s a Starseer, Abelardus informed her. Not everyone adores us, you may have noticed. Especially when we’re using our superior skills to humiliate mundane humans.
It’s a mystery as to why your people are unloved.
The rider, who had turned off his bike and dismounted, looked at her before she walked out of the shadows.
She lifted a hand in greeting, not sure what to say. “Have you seen any kidnapped children lately?” seemed an odd way to lead off a conversation.
The figure wore a helmet in addition to his riding clothing, and she could not make out any of his features through the mirrored faceplate. The Starseer could have been either sex, but he was over six feet tall and rail thin with no hint of curves, so she assumed he was a man.
“Ostberg, this is Captain Alisa Marchenko,” Abelardus said. “Alisa, Ostberg. Apparently, he knows my brother. And possibly knows where he is.”
“You can’t just read his mind to get that information?” Alisa asked, then offered, “Hello, Ostberg,” figuring a greeting might be in order.
Ostberg snorted. “She says exactly what she’s thinking, doesn’t she?” The voice was surprisingly young, and she revised her designation for him from man to boy.
“Yes, I find it charming and refreshing,” Abelardus said. “I’m waiting for her to think the same of my bluntness. Ostberg, I know I caught you off guard by digging up your information and contacting you, but I need to talk to someone local who knows the Starseer situation. I’m glad you came tonight.”
A long silent moment passed. The kid had to be responding mentally. Alisa sighed. Her not-eavesdropping would not go well if they communicated like that.
“Can you respond out loud?” Abelardus asked. “My captain has trouble eavesdropping when we speak telepathically.”
Alisa grimaced, sure he was monitoring her thoughts. Still, she responded with, “It’s not eavesdropping if I’m right here and you’re aware of my presence.”
“Yes, I see you have an interesting definition about that word. Ostberg?”
“All right,” he said dubiously, glancing at Alisa. “I know Durant well. He was—he is—my mentor.”
Alisa sucked in a startled breath. Was it possible this boy had been visiting the outpost? That he had seen Jelena? Even interacted with her? She resisted the urge to leap forward and throttle answers out of him. Barely.
“Do you know where he is?” Abelardus asked. “I need to talk to him. He hasn’t been answering my messages.”
Alisa made herself listen patiently. At least they were speaking out loud. But she could not assume she would hear the full truth or all of the information she sought. She wondered why Abelardus could not simply look into the boy’s thoughts and get the answers he wanted.
Starseers know how to protect their thoughts from others, the ones they wish to keep private, Abelardus spoke into her mind.
“I… know where he is,” Ostberg said. “None of us were getting our messages from off-world these last few months. They had a block on our comm relay system, and we dared not leave the school to use the city comms.”
“We?” Alisa leaned toward him. “Were you there, living with the students?”
“I am a student. One of the older ones.”
“Did you know Jelena?” she asked, her fingers twitching.
Had this Ostberg also been kidnapped once? Or had he willingly joined the Starseers? Would he be sympathetic if he had been kidnapped?
“The new girl? Not well, but yes. And I wasn’t kidnapped. I didn’t think she had been either.” Ostberg’s faceplate turned toward Abelardus, as if in a question.
Alisa grimaced again—the kid had to be reading her mind too. How did she learn to protect her thoughts from snoops?
“I doubt my brother advertised it when he was doing unscrupulous things,” Abelardus said.
“Durant is a good man.”
“Glad to hear it,” Alisa muttered, even if she couldn’t agree. It did sound like he had this boy’s respect, and that gave her some hope that the children had been treated well. After they’d been stolen from their parents.
“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Ostberg said, looking at her again. “My parents sent me to study with the Starseers when I developed the aptitude. Everything was amazing until a few months ago, when they arrived on the moon.”
“Who’s they?” Abelardus asked.
“We didn’t know at first. Just that they had Starseer powers and were watching us. Spying on us. I heard some of the teachers talking, and they thought it had something to do with… Are you sure—I mean, do you know for certain it’s all right to talk about these matters in front of her, Lord Abelardus?” Ostberg waved at Alisa.
She managed not to gag at the word lord going in front of his name.
“She has Starseer blood. I trust her implicitly,” Abelardus said. “I’m still waiting for her to learn to trust me implicitly. Right now, she reserves her trust for a cyborg who’s killed more Starseers than he can remember.” Abelardus tossed a disapproving frown in her direction.
Alisa thought to argue with him—Leonidas had gone out of his way not to hurt the Starseers in their temple—but she knew few details about his former career, except that he had loyally done as the empire bade.
Including killing Starseers, Abelardus whispered into her mind. Trust me.
Implicitly?
I have your best interests in mind.
I trust that you have your best interests in mind.
At least trust is involved somewhere. He smirked at her.
“Uhm,” Ostberg said, “we have—had—the prince. He got added to the school about three months ago, after coming in with some refugees from Dustor. They had been attacked by other Starseers. After they—he—arrived, that’s when that other group showed up here and started watching the school.”
So, Leonidas had been right about that block on the floor. Prince Thorian had been there, in the room next door to Jelena. Alisa wondered if Jelena had known who he had been. Not that she would have necessarily cared at that age. Or any age. She shared her mother’s irreverent streak and had been developing the ability to understand—and dish out—sarcasm when last Alisa had been home. A fellow parent had informed her that eight was a young age for that. It figured that Alisa would have a daughter precocious in that particular area.
“This other group,” Abelardus said, gazing intently at the boy. “Do you have names for any of them?”
“The teachers wouldn’t talk about who they were in front of us, the students.” Ostberg tilted his helmet to the side. “Do you know? I sense… something from you.”
“I have some suspicions. I’m waiting to hear back from Lady Naidoo.” Abelardus looked at Alisa. He’s going to be gifted with minds. I’m keeping my barriers up, but he’s getting a sense for my thoughts anyway.
Is that a good or bad thing? Alisa wondered.
It depends on whether you’re his friend or not. Better play nice if you don’t want him manipulating you.
Or launching mental attacks? Alisa thought of the dead Starseers and of Leonidas on that exam table.
We don’t teach that, Abelardus told her firmly.
Who does?
br /> Abelardus turned back toward Ostberg without answering the question. Alisa glared at him. That implicit trust wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“At first, they were only watching us, but our teachers thought they might be biding their time for something. We weren’t allowed to go out into the marshes or to the city anymore, not even with adults. A guard was kept on the prince’s room and followed him around the clock. Then, all of the sudden, about four days ago, they attacked. They wore robes, just like us, and had pendants with the silver star and red moon.” Ostberg’s voice took on a tone of anguish, of betrayal.
Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Abelardus silently asked Alisa.
That the staff coming out of hiding might have advanced a timeline?
Yes. As I told you, any of my people could feel it if they were close enough. Some particularly sensitive minds might have felt it from across the system.
And maybe the earlier attacks on the prince had something to do with the orb coming out? Alisa suggested, thinking of the way Leonidas had implied that Alcyone’s Station itself had somehow sensed the orb’s presence and started appearing in this dimension when it happened.
Maybe. It’s possible someone very much wants to make sure that Prince Thorian doesn’t get that staff.
Once again, Alisa had the sense that Abelardus wasn’t telling her everything he knew. Even better if that someone could have the staff for himself? She thought of the gray-haired Starseer in her cargo hold.
Probably so. We are living in interesting times, Alisa.
I don’t need this interest in my life, she replied, not bothering to correct his use of her first name. I just want my daughter.
We’ll get her for you.
Thank you.
Our children should have an older sister who can babysit them when we’re off having randy times. He winked at her.
If she had been standing closer to him, she would have stomped on his foot. We’re not having babies or randy times. Three suns, every time I start to think you have a shred of decency, you say some asshole thing like that.
It’s a flaw. I’ll work on it.
Do so.
Abelardus winked at her again. She considered striding the three steps so she could stomp on his foot.
Ostberg was watching them, his eyes narrowed. He must know they were speaking. Alisa grimaced, hoping he wasn’t suspicious of their intentions.
“What happened then?” Abelardus asked him.
Ostberg hesitated, then shrugged. “They stormed into our school, attacked us without warning or explanation. I heard one accuse us of being imperial puppets, whatever that meant. I don’t even care about the empire. I never did. Neither did my parents.”
“The attack must have been awful,” Abelardus said. “What happened? Some of you obviously got away. Did Durant…?”
“He was struck by some kind of mental attack. We had to carry him out.”
Abelardus clenched his jaw.
“Some of the teachers stayed back and bought time so the prince and the rest of the students could get away,” Ostberg said. “Only Charles stayed behind among the students, because he’s so good at telekinetics. Or he was…” The helmet lowered as the boy stared at the pavement under their feet. “I felt them die. Especially those I knew well. We were halfway through the tunnels when…” He shook his head.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Alisa said.
“As am I,” Abelardus said.
“What happened when you got out of the tunnels?” Alisa felt bad about rushing him through his pain, but the boy was her only lead, and she had to find out where the others had been taken.
“The others are safe,” Ostberg said.
“Where?” Alisa and Abelardus asked at the same time.
“And Durant is… my responsibility. He needs help. I said I was old enough to get it.”
That wasn’t the answer to Alisa’s question. Once again, the urge to throttle the boy came to her. He frowned over at her, and she made herself loosen her curled fingers.
“What kind of help?” Abelardus shifted, all sign of his insouciant smirks gone. “Is it because of the mental attack?”
Ostberg nodded. “He’s still alive, but you can’t wake him up. I don’t know what to do.” His voice cracked. “I said I’d take care of him and take him to a good hospital. Like I said, he’s my mentor. But it can’t be a hospital here. They might be watching. I can still feel them out there. And I feel—I don’t know how to explain it.”
The staff.
Abelardus nodded at Alisa.
“I need to get Durant off-world and to a good hospital. I said I was old enough to handle it. And Lady Kim gave me some physical currency, enough to rent a ship that could get us to Savage Moon. But almost right away, I had a run-in with one of the rogue Starseers. I ran from him, but then smacked into a rival mafia group planning some attack in this dome. I don’t know what it was, but I got in their way.” His voice had grown tight, distressed. “This place is hellish. I showed them my powers to try to scare them into leaving me alone, but that just provoked them to torment me more.” He looked away from them, down the empty, shadowy alley. “I lost the money. But I’m not a failure. They weren’t wrong to leave Durant with me. They weren’t. I’ve been doing the bike races, making sure I win. I’ve almost made enough for the passage. One more race. All I need is to win one more without them figuring out I’m… what I am.”
“You’re doing well, Ostberg,” Abelardus said, reaching out and gripping the boy’s shoulder. “Nobody can fault you for that. Trust me. This moon is hellish. Much of the mundane system is when you’re different from them. Listen, you’ve done well, but you needn’t do this alone. Can you take me to Durant? Maybe we can help.”
“You can’t,” Ostberg whispered, his faceplate tilted downward again. “Lady Kim is a healer, and she didn’t know how to help him.”
“We have a doctor on our ship,” Abelardus said. “A good one. Take me to Durant, and I’ll get him to our doctor.”
Too bad Alejandro hadn’t known how to treat Leonidas. He had seemed to believe that he could do so if he had access to superior medical equipment. Would Savage Moon have the facilities needed? Despite the name, it was the most populated and sophisticated of Aldrin’s moons. Alisa had no idea who was in charge of it these days.
Ostberg was looking her way again. Reading her thoughts?
“Ostberg?” Abelardus prompted.
The boy stepped back, out of his grip, and lifted a hand. “I’m thinking. Look, I’ve already told you a lot, Lord Abelardus. But I don’t know you. I mean, I don’t really know that you’re Durant’s brother. You’re guarding your thoughts.”
“Of course I am. Just as you’re guarding yours from me.”
“You could be aligned with them.”
“You ought to be able to see my whole story through her thoughts,” Abelardus said, nodding toward Alisa.
“Oh please,” she said, “invite people to poke around in my head. I love it when you Starseers do that.”
“I can see her thoughts, yes, and you inserting yourself on her ship wasn’t really… I mean I don’t know if the council approved that or if you were acting of your own will. Because you want something. Because you’re with them.”
“I’m not with anybody except myself.”
“Then let down your guard,” Ostberg said. “Let me see the truth.”
That seemed reasonable enough—Leonidas had invited Yumi’s sister to look into his mind when he’d hoped to have his actions cleared back on Arkadius.
“My thoughts and memories are private,” Abelardus said, “just as yours are. You’re not sharing yours with me. We barely know each other. This is normal.”
“He’s vulnerable,” Ostberg said. “He wouldn’t be able to defend himself. I need to take care of him, and that includes not leading anyone untrustworthy to him.”
“I’m not untrustworthy,” Abelardus snapped.
“Let me think ab
out it.” Ostberg backed to his bike.
“Wait,” Alisa blurted, alarmed that he might race off without telling her where to find Jelena.
Ostberg thrust out his hand, and it felt like a wall of air pushed her back. He frowned at her, but kept talking to Abelardus.
“If I win that race, I won’t need help. I can get him to a hospital that can treat him on my own.”
“A hospital run by mundanes who hate Starseers?” Abelardus took a step toward him. Hopefully, he could keep the boy from getting away.
Ostberg must have guessed his intent, because he leaped astride his bike, and the engine roared to life. Abelardus reached for him, but he arrowed off down the street.
“Wait,” Alisa called after him, frustration stealing her sense of caution. “Just tell me where Jelena is. Please!”
Abelardus pointed his staff after him, his eyes narrowing, but he ultimately sighed and set the butt of the staff on the ground.
“You’re letting him go?” Alisa asked, anguish flooding her body as Ostberg turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
“If I knock him on his ass, he’ll be even less likely to trust me,” he said.
“But he’s the only one who knows where the others are. Unless—” Alisa raised her brows, a hopeful thought entering her mind. “Did you see that information in his mind?”
“No, he protected it carefully.” Abelardus sighed.
“Damn it. It’s because he didn’t trust us. Why didn’t you let him see into your mind? Is it possible you realize how irritating it is when people surf through your thoughts?” Or was it possible that Abelardus had something to hide? Something that might have turned the boy against him? Something that might, if she knew it, turn her against him too?
“Some memories are uncomfortable, and you don’t want people dredging them up,” he said. “Do you not find that to be so?” He raised an eyebrow, and she found herself remembering being back at the university, going out to protest at what became the Perun Arcade Massacre.
Alisa flushed with anger and struggled to push the memory back into deep storage where it belonged. “You’re an ass, Abelardus.”
“I believe we’ve already established that. Shall we check on your cyborg?”