Angle of Truth

  Thor released Jelena’s arm and complied. Their group walked up the stairs but not through the front door, instead following a stone walkway around to a smaller and insignificant-feeling side entrance.

  “Guess mercenaries don’t use front doors,” Erick muttered, then nudged Jelena’s arm. “Are you all right?”

  He must have seen that exchange with Thor and wondered what had prompted it. Erick, like most Starseers, couldn’t read her thoughts and wouldn’t know what she’d been thinking about. Erick had been safe with his family on his home moon during those last months of the war. He’d said there hadn’t been much fighting there and no bombing. Lucky him.

  “I’m fine,” Jelena said. “I’m mentally preparing myself to rescue people, to do something good for people. Something noble.”

  “You don’t think delivering cargo is good and noble?” Erick asked, as they were led into a corridor.

  “Anybody can do it. Rescuing people—that’s something suited to our unique talents.”

  “Oh? Do you think there will be cattle in need of stampeding?”

  “You never know.”

  The procession climbed another set of stairs and stopped in front of a wooden door engraved with different kinds of cactuses. While the lead soldier knocked and waited for a response, Jelena stepped close enough to Masika to ask her opinion on the artwork.

  “It’s simple,” Masika said.

  “Is that bad?”

  “Not always. It can be a sign of real talent, to be able to convey a message in a few deft strokes from a pen or brush. Or chisel.” She nodded at the door.

  “Oh? What’s the message here?”

  “That the continents are named after cactuses,” Thor said dryly.

  “Are they?” Jelena asked. “Maybe that’s all they could get to grow here.”

  “Sounds right. The terraforming was stopped prematurely due to a changing political climate.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They ran out of money, I’ll wager,” Erick said.

  Thor nodded.

  The soldier frowned over at them, then pushed open the door. He and three of his cohorts walked in first. The other four came after Jelena’s group. She definitely had the feeling that this escort would have come with them whether Thor had asked for it or not.

  Inside, she let Thor and Masika step to the front while she and Erick stood behind them. She shifted her hood as she looked around, doing her best to keep her face in shadow, appearing mysterious and enigmatic rather than young and inexperienced.

  The office they’d arrived in held two large desks and also a conference table with a huge paper map stretched across it with models and figurines stationed at various points on the two major continents as well as the various islands. More paper maps lined the walls. One of the desks held an old-looking computer ten times larger than Jelena’s netdisc, and it was the only sign of more advanced technology in the room. A clunky machine on a stand in a corner looked like it might be a typewriter. Judging by the sheet of paper sticking out of it, it wasn’t a museum piece. A large, lumpy rock sat on a corner of one of the desks, some flecks in it catching the light. It looked like a big piece of ore, though Jelena couldn’t have guessed what kind it was just by looking. Mica, her parents’ friend who’d grown up in a mining colony, would have known. For some reason, it was encapsulated in a clear veneer. Maybe whatever was inside was valuable? Or dangerous. She knew ahridium had to be treated before it could be used in spaceship hulls because the ore itself was toxic to humans.

  Nobody was sitting or standing around the table, but a bald man rose from behind one of the desks. A side door opened, and a second man came out, combing his fingers through his white hair. No, he was shaking dust out of it. Had he come from a bombing site? Or maybe he’d been crawling around in some damaged room in this building.

  The two men looked over Jelena’s party, then exchanged long frowns with each other. They wore similar attire, layered black and red clothes that seemed an odd marriage of an old-fashioned business suit and a kimono. Jelena hadn’t seen many civilians since landing and didn’t know if it was a garment of office or representative of the local style. The soldiers wore fatigues, similar to Masika’s but in tan instead of gray.

  “You have Starseers among your mercenary outfit?” the white-haired man asked Thor.

  “We do, General Chang and Minister of War Sorel.” Thor nodded to the one who’d spoken, and then the bald man, making it clear he knew which was which, even though the men hadn’t introduced themselves. Not that this was an impressive display of Starseer skills, since Chang had the bronze skin and almond-shaped eyes that the surname suggested. Sorel was a wiry, olive-skinned man who looked fit under his loose, layered clothing. “I’ve brought a small but efficient strike force,” Thor added, not introducing himself or anyone else.

  Jelena assumed he hadn’t given them his real name. Maybe he’d made up something alliterative like The Southern Scar or—what had the other one been? Black Bearface.

  “If you can give us as much information as possible, we’re prepared to extract your men.” Thor didn’t ask if the job was still available or act like there was a question of whether they would be chosen.

  The older men exchanged long looks again, almost as if they were speaking telepathically. Jelena doubted it, but supposed they could encounter people with Starseer powers on any planet. It wasn’t as if she knew everyone in the community. She hardly knew anyone in the community. But maybe if she and Erick heroically rescued enough people, the rest of the Starseers would decide that they were people worth knowing, maybe extend an invitation for them to come visit one of the main temples.

  “We’re still trying to ascertain whether you are a good match for this job.” Sorel folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t come with references or a reputation, Lieutenant Cyrus.” Was that the name Thor had given them? “We couldn’t even find a record of your unit’s existence.”

  What had the war minister been using to look them up? The typewriter? Jelena supposed they’d passed a couple of satellites on the way to the planet, but she wondered just how much sys-net access these people had. Did the common citizen have any connection to the rest of the system?

  “Let us prove ourselves in the deed,” Thor said. “If we successfully return your people, you will pay us. If we don’t, you’ve lost nothing.”

  “Not necessarily. We would have tipped our hand to the Chollans that we’re sending a team. In the event of a failure, they would know to expect further rescue attempts, and they would be more prepared.”

  Masika stuck a fist on her hip. “They took your people. I’m sure they’re expecting you’ll try to get them back. No matter what happens, they’re not going to be mystified by a team appearing.”

  The men frowned at her, then at Thor.

  “You let a female speak for you?” Sorel asked.

  Masika’s other fist came up to her hip. Jelena almost copied the gesture. What kind of backwards, benighted country was this?

  “How would you like to be dropkicked through that window by a female?” Masika asked.

  The men appeared scandalized.

  And you thought my lack of silence would be the problem, Jelena told Thor silently. A little smugly.

  “We hire based on talent,” Thor said, not noticeably perturbed—or affronted—by the question. “You will give us as much information as you have on the location and status of the prisoners.”

  The older men looked like they might object once again, but their brows smoothed, and they stopped exchanging those looks with each other.

  “Yes, we should give you the information we have,” Sorel said amiably.

  “And perhaps there should be refreshments?” Chang pressed a switch on one of the desks, and an unsubtle buzz sounded.

  A side door opened, and a robed woman with a tray laden with food and drink walked in, her eyes downcast. She set the tray on the desk and removed a plate with something covered in a
red sauce, then propped two-pronged forks at various points around the plate. She poured tea from a pitcher into four cups, then bowed deeply and left without a word.

  I’m beginning to get an idea of what the proper place for a woman is considered to be on this world, Jelena told Erick silently.

  I’m beginning to want to sample what’s on that plate. It smells good.

  I see you’re concerned for the plight of women here.

  I’m concerned for the plight of my stomach. When are we getting something besides dehydrated food and quick-meals for the ship?

  Sometime after we’re not fifty thousand tindarks in debt.

  “Please, have a taste,” Sorel said, waving at the plate and taking one of the teacups for himself.

  Chang also took a cup, then walked to the conference table. Jelena wondered if the two remaining cups were supposed to be for the leaders of the Mustangs or for the men of the Mustangs.

  “This is the city where we believe our people are being held,” Chang said, pointing to a coastal location on the map.

  It was one of the two cities Jelena had identified as they’d flown over the continent. Interestingly, there were others marked on the map. Bombed locations that had been abandoned? Or maybe they represented the locations of the underground settlements Thor had mentioned.

  Erick strode to the desk and grabbed a fork. He only considered the dish briefly before pronging the sauce-covered patty on the plate. Whatever it was had been cut into small rectangles. Jelena wasn’t sure if it was a steak that had been pounded flat or something from a plant. Meat seemed more likely. Erick pronged several more of the saucy squares, as many as he could fit on his fork, before moving to the conference table.

  “You’re that sure it’ll be good?” Jelena murmured, joining him at the table, next to Thor.

  “The sauce smells good.”

  “Could be something dreadful underneath.”

  “Like meat that came off a bone instead of out of a vat?”

  “Precisely.”

  Erick stuck the fork into his mouth, pulled the entire stack of squares off, and chewed heartily. The cowl of his robe didn’t entirely hide the grin he gave Jelena. It also didn’t hide when the grin faded, and his expression turned dubious. His chewing grew less vigorous and more contemplative. Or was that horrified?

  “Not as palatable as you expected?”

  “Well. It’s not meat.”

  Chang frowned at him. “It’s cactus. What else would it be?” He tapped the map. “Pay attention. The female is more observant than you.” The way he delivered the line made it clear it was an insult.

  “Cactus?” Erick didn’t sound overly insulted. “Huh.”

  Masika’s eyes closed to slits. She might still be considering dropkicking the general. Or the war leader. Or both.

  “Do you have any idea where in the city they’re being held?” Thor asked.

  “We don’t,” Chang said. “We don’t even know if our people are still alive. The spy we sent a few days ago… hasn’t reported back.”

  “We’ve had a few planes go over by night, flying by to do reconnaissance, but the Chollans, cowards that they are, have automated weapons systems. Machines do their fighting for them.” Sorel sniffed. “They’ve launched their missiles at our cities from afar, too, so we’ve had to spend a fortune building anti-missile weaponry of our own. They have forcefields for their own major cities—leftover imperial technology. We had some of it, too, but the generators failed early in the war, and we’ve had no way of getting replacement parts.”

  “The empire’s manufacturers aren’t making them anymore,” Thor said softly.

  “No.”

  “We’ve encountered their weapons systems,” Jelena said, not wanting to discuss the empire or its fall.

  By now, she figured the men had gotten over their surprise at the notion of talking females, but they both set their teacups down and stared at her.

  “There are Starseer women?”

  “That cannot be true. Those must be disguises.”

  “I’ve earned this robe through ten years of training,” Jelena said. “Of course there are Starseer women. How do you think more Starseer men are made?” She waved her hand and elevated one of the cups as a demonstration. She considered flinging the contents at the men’s clothes as a further demonstration.

  Thor looked at her. He didn’t say anything, but she sensed his silent suggestion that she be good and set the cup down. She thought about being bad and going with her first inclination, but they hadn’t been given the job yet, and, judging by the two other jobs Thor had shared, opportunities for her to make extra money as a mercenary without violating her ethics were rare. She lowered the cup.

  “As I was saying,” Jelena said, “our ship was fired at, too, without provocation. We won’t simply be able to fly over there and pick up your people.”

  “Even by night, their detection methods are excellent,” Chang said, apparently getting over the shock of a Starseer woman. “We’ve also had no luck sailing sea vessels to their shores. Their missiles are even more capable of taking out boats.”

  “How did your spy get over there?” Thor asked.

  “We have a number of submarines that they haven’t figured out how to detect yet. They’re compact vessels, insufficient for delivering armies, but we can get small numbers of people to their shores.”

  “That will work. You’ll take our team over on one, we’ll retrieve your people, and you’ll return us all to your continent.”

  Jelena lifted a finger, intending to protest. Just because they’d been fired at by the Chollans didn’t mean she was ready to leave the Snapper on another continent while they went off adventuring in some antiquated underwater vehicle probably navigated by a typewriter. Worse than that, she wouldn’t be piloting. What would happen if something went wrong? If the submarine didn’t wait for them while they were retrieving their people? They could be stranded indefinitely on a continent full of crazy religious zealots. She hadn’t flown over anything on the Chollan continent that had looked like a space base. Chances were they didn’t have spaceships—there might not be a way off that continent at all.

  “Young man, you’re not the one giving the orders here,” Sorel said, speaking first. “We have limited submarines, and we don’t simply… ah.” His brow furrowed. Thor was gazing at him—staring him straight in the eye.

  He wasn’t looking at Chang, but Chang’s eyes grew glassy.

  You should try the cactus, Erick told Jelena silently. Watching Thor diddle people’s minds is more entertaining while you’re enjoying munchies.

  You didn’t look like you were enjoying that cactus pad. Jelena found watching Thor mess with people’s minds more eerie and alarming than entertaining, but could she truly object? She wanted this mission.

  The texture takes some getting used to. The sauce is good.

  Maybe we can get a crate of fresh cactus pads to take on the ship, since you prefer them to quick-meals.

  I didn’t say that. But I wouldn’t mind a few jars of the sauce. Maybe the quick-meals would be better if they were smothered in it.

  You’re a true gourmand.

  “We’ll call up a submarine to depart tonight,” Sorel said, speaking slowly now and nodding to himself. “It will be a journey of approximately three days.”

  Three days? The Snapper could fly twenty laps around the planet in that time.

  “Excellent,” Thor said. “My team is ready.”

  Chang stirred, some of the glassiness fading from his eyes. “Is this your whole team?”

  “It’s all we’ll need. A small incursion force will be superior in this case, and you said yourself that your submarines can carry limited personnel.”

  “How do you plan to find our people once you’re over there?”

  “Leave that to us,” Thor said.

  “We’ll leave that to you,” Sorel agreed.

  Definitely eerie, Jelena decided.

  Thor turned a sa
d gaze toward her, and she winced inwardly, reminding herself that he could be reading her thoughts at any given moment. Of all people, shouldn’t she understand him and not judge him? Or be afraid of his powers?

  “Let’s get ready,” Thor murmured and headed for the door.

  Erick pronged a few more cactus pieces and deposited them in his mouth on the way out.

  Feeling a need to be petty and lash out, Jelena gave one of the teacups a mental nudge as Sorel was reaching for it. It tipped over, spilled its contents, and rolled off the table, shattering on the floor.

  The side door opened, and the woman hurried in to clean up the mess while the men only stepped aside to avoid the puddle. Jelena regretted her action. Why didn’t things ever work out the way she planned?

  Chapter 6

  The submarine was dark, damp, and smelled of gym socks. When they’d first climbed into the compact horizontal cylinder, Jelena had likened it to a spaceship, a noble craft designed to carry intrepid travelers from destination to destination, all the while protecting them from their hostile environment. That had been before she’d gotten the first whiff of gym socks, seen the beads of water dripping down the curving walls, and clunked her head on the low ceiling. Now, she was positive she was being punished for being petty about teacups.

  Voices came from the cramped cockpit up front. Thor was standing up there, monitoring their departure and exchanging a few words with the two pilots, soldiers in fatigues who spoke with a thicker accent than the war minister and general had. For the most part, Jelena had a hard time understanding them, but they’d been clear when they’d shooed Erick out of the cockpit, proclaiming that no, he most certainly could not steer the sub. A wise decision, Jelena was positive. She had no interest in “letting her rip and seeing if they could out-swim the sharks,” as Erick had suggested.

  Once they were underway, Thor made his way back past Erick and Masika and pointed to the seat next to Jelena. She was in the process of tearing open one of her berry vitamin packs to dissolve in her canteen and nodded for him to sit next to her. Erick and Masika were discussing building a character for a game he was trying to talk her into playing, Striker Odyssey most likely. Jelena hoped the two pilots weren’t listening. If the average citizen on Opuntia didn’t believe there could be Starseer women, they would be dumbfounded by the idea of Starseer nerds.