Ty nodded. Barto handed him a bag with some items that Ty assumed would be used to trade. Then they headed out the door.
The small room they entered appeared to be some kind of decontamination chamber. Ty guessed it was used to get the Harvesters as clear of poison as possible before they entered the dwelling. Barto opened a locked cabinet and pulled out several weapons that made Ty’s eyebrows lift.
Projectile weapons.
He took the outlawed weapon when Barto handed it to him. He stared at it with a mix of morbid curiosity and repulsion. Although projectile weapons had been banned across Alametria for many years, he had been trained on using and defending against them so that he was prepared on those planets that still used them. He knew what they could do to another person.
How had the Harvesters gotten these? The weapons were unlike any traditional ones he had studied. These had been pieced together from several different weapons.
Hopefully it wouldn’t blow up in his hands.
Barto and Reider turned on the air-flow from their canisters, so Ty did the same. A strong metallic smell almost made him gag, but he fought through it. He followed the other males as they stepped out of that chamber and into yet another one. This one was open to the elements on one side. Ty understood why when he saw the converted rover awaiting them. Like the weapons, the rover was a mash-up of parts from many different types of space craft and aerial vehicles.
“The Tinkers make things like these weapons and vehicles with the goods we Harvest,” Reider explained through his mask. “The talented ones can make just about anything you could imagine.”
Ty stored the information as he joined Reider on the rover’s open-air deck. Seats along either side allowed them to sit facing out, their weapons at the ready. Ty wasn’t sure what he might have to use the weapon for, but he’d figure it out.
Once they were in position, Barto started the rover’s tajeria-powered engine. It lifted a few feet off the ground. Ty wondered if the tajeria was a remnant from the pre-AI days or if the Harvesters had come by it some other way, like from the mine.
“Stand with Reider, Freshy,” Barto commanded. “Keep that weapon at the ready. Marauders can be anywhere. Don’t hesitate ta shoot any of ‘em. They won’t show any mercy ta you.”
The rover shot forward before Ty could respond. He tightened his grip on his weapon and adjusted his weight to maintain his balance. The goggles he was wearing limited his vision, making him want to tear them off. Instead, he moved his head around to compensate.
He could hardly grasp the state of the environment they sped through. Although he knew about the AI revolution and knew about the devastation it caused, the reality was shocking. What had once been cheerful dwellings, statuesque buildings, and beautiful monuments now lay in rubble. The entire landscape was coated in pink, the air thick with deadly chemicals. He didn’t see any living vegetation or water sources along their route. Instead, he saw skeletons. Bones of people and animals littered the destruction like gruesome accent pieces.
This really was a death sentence.
Motion to his right distracted him from his thoughts. He spotted two males—well, he assumed they were males, but they were fully covered—in the midst of a fist fight. Uncertain of the threat they posed, he glanced at Reider, who shook his head.
Ty was bothered by the youth’s cold expression. No one Reider’s age should have to live like this. Ty couldn’t help but wonder how the younger male had ended up there.
A few minutes later, he saw what he thought were a woman and young child standing in front of a male. The sight of the child astonished Ty. There was no way a child that young had killed someone and been held accountable. Why was he or she out here?
Belatedly, it occurred to him that the woman was the child’s mother. Had she given birth out here?
His thoughts were disrupted when the male struck the female, knocking her to the ground. Although they had gone quite a distance past the small group, Ty glanced at Reider in question.
Again, Reider shook his head.
The lack of compassion had Ty frowning. Did all Outcasts have this level of disassociation from others? Was the mentality really all about survival of the fittest? Surely they had to have some empathy, since the Harvesters had taken him in. Right?
A scream drew his attention as they cleared a tall pile of debris. His head whipped to the right. In the shadows of the remains of a building, a male was attacking a female. Ty saw enough in his quick glance to infer the male’s intent. Without hesitation, he lifted his weapon and shot the male, who howled and spun away from the female. She scurried to her feet, tugging at her loose-fitting protective gear and stumbling away.
Ty glanced at Reider and saw the youth lowering his own weapon. So there were some standards of right and wrong out here, Ty reasoned.
He considered what he’d just seen as he returned his attention to the passing landscape. That lust-crazed male had obviously not been repressed. The mother who had been struck must have been fertile if she had a child, which meant the Rowe had started her fertility cycle at some point. In either case, they might have been paired with amanti back in their homelands, which would explain the lack of repression.
But he thought of the comments made by Barto and Orran back at their homestead. It appeared that they each had an intimate relationship with Hope. Although Barto hinted that Reider did, as well, Ty wasn’t entirely sure. The thought disturbed him due to the distinct difference in their ages, but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by anything out here.
Did the lack of repression among the Outcasts he’d seen so far have anything to do with the lightening of the repressions he had noticed around the palace? It was logical, wasn’t it, that a person’s repression would have to be lifted in order to play upon their negative emotions to motivate them to kill?
Things were starting to make more sense now. The question was, how far did this extend, and what could he do to stop it?
Chapter 27
Kyr’s heart clanged in her chest as she carried a tray of food through the hallway leading to Vycor’s chambers. She kept her gaze down, but still felt as though a huge, flashing sign hovered over her head announcing who she was.
Stay calm, Kyr, Gren told her from his position a number of yards behind her. If anything happens, I won’t hesitate to take Vycor down.
She gave a mental nod and took a deep breath as they stopped at the chamber entrance. Sem had warned her that the Mynders guarding Vycor’s doors would conduct mental scans of each of the Wrym before they would be granted entrance. She focused her energy on conveying the thought that all was well.
The Mynders opened the doors and let them pass without incident.
Kyr dared a quick glance up to assess her surroundings. The layout of Vycor’s chambers was like hers, complete with a receiving area. Seated on the two couches placed around a central serving table were Vycor and someone she didn’t expect.
Her mother.
A choked sound issued from her throat when she saw Shaya. Fortunately, the Guardian and the Advisor were still too far from her to have heard it. Kyr looked for her father, but didn’t see him. In fact, outside of Vycor, Shaya, and the Wrym, no one else was in the room.
Why aren’t there any Mynders in here? she wondered.
I have no idea, Sem responded.
She detected the surprise from both him and Gren. It comforted her to have them in her mind. She drew strength from them and followed the three other Wrym, walking into the receiving area with her tray.
Through her lashes, Kyr looked between Shaya and Vycor. They were both fully dressed and seated on opposite couches. There wasn’t any atmosphere of intimacy between them, but she couldn’t help but think it was strange that they would be meeting privately.
“I can’t wait for this meeting with the Vawn to be over and done,” Shaya said as Kyr and the Wrym began setting up the food and tea. “It has been such a trial wearing this awful color for so long. I wonder if I c
an decree that the official color of mourning has been changed to something that better suits me.”
Kyr felt angry heat rush into her cheeks. Her mother wasn’t grieving her death. She was moaning about having to wear the color red.
“Patience, Shaya,” Vycor soothed.
The use of her mother’s first name instead of her title had Kyr’s eyes widening. She almost knocked a plate of tea cakes off the edge of the table and had to force herself to focus. Shaya didn’t even let her own amanti address her by her first name with other people around. Yet Vycor did so as though it was a common thing.
What the hell?
“You know that you outshine every other female on Alametria no matter what color you wear,” Vycor added.
His silky tone cemented the revolting thought in Kyr’s mind. Her mother had to be having an affair with the Advisor.
The hypocritical bitch! Sem seethed.
Gren’s thought echoed the sentiment. Kyr struggled to maintain her composure so she didn’t reveal herself, but it was a hard thing.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Kyr made the last-minute decision to see what she could glean from her mother’s mind before she attempted to read Vycor. Maybe Shaya would be easier to read than the Advisor, since he had the unusual blocks that Gren and Ty had mentioned.
Using caution, she started with the most basic level of intrusion.
“I’m sure the meeting will—” Vycor was saying.
He cut himself off and looked towards the doors. Kyr felt him reaching out with his mind, so she quickly brought all of her barriers up. He must have implemented some kind of mental alarm system in Shaya’s mind.
Fortunately, it didn’t seem to occur to him that one of the “lowly” Wrym in his chambers could have performed the intrusion.
She forced her breathing to remain steady as she finished setting out everything on her tray. Her gaze moved to the other Wrym to see how they were progressing with their tasks. They were all moving and acting as though there was no one in the room. None of them showed any reactions to the conversation taking place. None of them looked at Shaya or Vycor.
Was this due to their training, or something more?
Kyr followed her instincts and reached out to the minds of the Wrym. It took her no time at all to discover that Vycor was influencing all of them. No wonder he and Shaya were speaking so freely around them.
“What’s wrong?” Shaya asked, following Vycor’s gaze to the chamber doors.
Shaking his head with a frown, Vycor replied, “It’s nothing. I suppose I’m just preoccupied. We must make sure everything maintains its course.”
Kyr’s pulse thrummed. Would she find out what she needed to know without even having to enter Vycor’s mind?
“I’m confident all will go according to plan,” Shaya assured him, reaching for the cup of tea one of the other Wrym had just finished preparing.
“That’s hard to believe when the former Dem-Shyr never made it to the Hub and we can’t locate him,” Vycor muttered.
Kyr moved over to a Wrym who was setting up an assortment of finger foods on a side table. She deliberately took some of the food when the Wrym wasn’t paying attention and placed it back on the original tray. She had to stretch out her time somehow.
“It would have been wise of you to debrief EyraRowe when he returned from his flight before your Inquisitors erased his memories,” Shaya pointed out. “All of our plans will be ruined if that convict escapes the Dark Lands.”
Vycor’s gaze narrowed. “It isn’t as though I don’t know that,” he snapped. “I’ve already pointed out that I could find him easily enough if you would give me more of the Dem-Shyr’s mental abilities.”
Kyr’s head filled with cursing from Gren and Sem as they deduced what Vycor was implying. Shaya must have given him some of Ty’s abilities before. As the Guardian, she could contain and administer the Dem-Shyr’s abilities…well, part of them, anyway. Brunyr contained and administered the other half of them. Was that where Vycor’s mental blocks had come from?
“You know I wouldn’t trust anyone with all of the Dem-Shyr’s abilities,” Shaya scoffed. “That’s why I never administered them in their entirety to TaeDane all those years ago. No single person should have all of that power.”
It took everything within Kyr not to pick up a tray and swing it at Shaya’s head. The Guardian had withheld some of Ty’s abilities when he assumed his role as the Dem-Shyr? Shaya had known he needed those abilities to properly fill his role as the Ascendant’s protector, yet she deliberately kept them from him. The extent of her mother’s treachery had Kyr wanting blood.
Don’t do anything to jeopardize yourself or Ty, Gren thought. We’ll make sure she pays for what she’s done.
“And it was a brilliant decision on your part, Shaya,” Vycor said, his tone now charming and seductive. “I completely agree with you. I’m not suggesting that you give me all of his abilities. Just enough that we can find out the truth of where he is and protect our interests.”
Kyr was so absorbed by the conversation and her tumultuous emotions that she only belatedly registered that the Wrym were gathering their empty trays and preparing to leave.
Not yet! she silently cried, glancing around to figure out how to stall. Her mind connected with the only Wrym still standing near the coffee table. With a small amount of influence, she got the female to bump a tray of food.
When it fell to the floor, Kyr hurried to clean it up alongside the other Wrym. Shaya issued a curse that had Kyr biting her lip. Her mother had always disdained vulgarity, claiming it was the sign of a lack of breeding. Apparently, that didn’t apply when she thought she wasn’t being overheard.
“You can save your flowery speeches, Vycor,” Shaya said, dabbing irritably at a small dot of jam that had struck her gown. “I know how much you crave power. It’s what drew us together in the first place. But I won’t consider giving you any more of the Dem-Shyr’s abilities until after today’s meeting with the Vawn. If the meeting goes as planned, we have nothing more to worry about.”
“But if TaeDane—”
“It isn’t as though the convict will be able to get back here from the Dark Lands,” Shaya interrupted. “The protections will prevent it. He should be the least of your worries right now. You should be focused on convincing the Vawn to grant me and Brunyr authority over all of Alametria with Kyr…gone.”
Had Kyr imagined Shaya’s hesitation over that last statement? Was it possible her mother was actually saddened by her death?
It didn’t matter, she told herself. The Wrym had finished cleaning up the mess and stood to go. She couldn’t think of another way to delay their departure without it attracting the attention of Vycor and Shaya. She also didn’t think she could try to enter Vycor’s mind with the Guardian in the room.
You’re right, Gren told her. Get out of there. We’ll figure it out later.
I second that, Sem thought.
Taking her tray with her, Kyr followed the Wrym from the room. She tried to hear something more on her way out, but the couple was now partaking of the small feast that had been left for them. She wasn’t going to get anything else right then.
We have to do something to stop that meeting, she sent to Gren and Sem. Or we have to somehow convince the Vawn that appointing the Guardians as rulers is a bad idea. If we don’t, I think this planet is doomed.
Chapter 28
Ty wasn’t sure how long they travelled, but his arm was tired from holding his weapon by the time they finally arrived. He hadn’t expected the Tinkers to live so far. Because it was a former urban settlement, he had pictured everyone living in a more contained area.
He studied the building that Barto approached at a slow cruising speed. It looked like an old aircraft assembly station. What remained of the top of the building stretched up high enough to block the sun. It seemed reasonably intact, considering their surroundings. He imagined that made it a good location to inhabit.
As they g
ot closer, he saw that only part of the building had been converted into living and work space. A number of security measures had been set up around the entryway. He inventoried them as Barto pulled up to a small dock and cut the engine.
Mirrors were angled from multiple directions to give the building’s residents clear views of anyone coming or going. Weapons covered by protective shielding were aimed at the only door. Barbed mesh covered the door itself. Ty couldn’t see any way inside.
“Come on,” Barto ordered, waving Ty and Reider after him.
Ty stepped out onto the dock and followed Barto over to the entryway. He wondered how Barto was going to gain access with the door covered like it was. It wasn’t as though he could knock.
A voice came from an unseen sound system, answering his question. “Who’s with you, Barto? That isn’t Orran standing beside Reider. He’s far too big.”
“Mind yer own business, Aryn,” Barto barked towards what looked like a tube cut into the wall beside the door. “We’ve been doin’ business long enough for ya ta know better.”
“How do I know he isn’t a Marauder? He looks like one.”
Aryn’s voice carried the accent of the Rowe, which made sense to Ty. The Rowe were highly skilled with tools and working with technology. He figured it wasn’t wise to voice his observation, though.
“For bleedin’ sake, Aryn. Ya know I’d sooner scoop out my own eyes with a dull blade than do business with those murderin’ bastards.” Barto shook the sack he held, which made a loud clinking sound. “Now unless ya want me ta take our business elsewhere, ya’d better open this bloody door.”
There was a snick of a lock, followed by a rattle. Ty watched as the barbed mesh lumbered away from the door on an unseen pulley system. It was damn clever, he’d give them that.
“Keep yer goggles on,” Barto whispered to Ty as they stepped through the doorway.
Ty didn’t have to be told it was because of his unusual eye color. It didn’t matter. He’d leave the goggles on if it prevented any problems.