Abendau's Heir (The Inheritance Trilogy Book 1) (8 page)

Nothing
. He sat up, shaking. Filling the viewing window was a solid wall of metal. He clenched his hands together, tight against his chest, and looked at the white-faced Silom.

“See.” His voice sounded like it was going to break. “I told you I could land.”

Silom got up and walked down the ship, anger radiating from him. Kare hit the hatch-command and followed, keeping his distance; he might be quicker than his cousin, but Silom could pack a punch. The hatch lowered, letting warm air in, heavy with the smell of oil, carrying Kare straight back to his childhood, and their supply visits to the rebel base, in a way nothing else could.
Gods, he was home
. His eyes blurred and he blinked before Silom noticed. Who was he kidding? This wasn’t home. At home, people wanted you.

The docking bay doors thudded closed, and the port stood in darkness for a moment. Then harsh lights came up, illuminating the hangar. A squad of soldiers approached, weapons raised, in their centre a woman dressed in a military uniform, her face stern and unwelcoming. Kare fought back a groan: Rjala. Who else? He stepped onto the gangway, and her eyes swept him up and down.

“Kare.” Her voice was cold. Beside him, Silom tensed, the muscles in his arms bunching as he crossed them.

“Rjala,” said Kare. A muscle twitched in her cheek, and he nearly kicked himself. She was an army officer; she’d want her title. He looked at her uniform, trying to decide what she was, but didn’t recognise the Banned insignia.

“Why have you come back?” she asked.

He stepped forward, but one of the soldiers raised his gun. “No further.”

“Sure.” He stood, trying not to show his nerves. What should he say? The truth seemed as good as anything. “Rj - ”–
Ma’am, that’s what you called an army officer–
“Ma’am, my mother found me. I had to run.”

Her gaze stayed on him and he looked away, but had to bite back a yell: standing behind the soldiers was a little girl, her heart-face thin, her green eyes shining. She held her hand out, and in it there was a mouse. He shook his head.
No Karia; not today
. He blinked and she disappeared, allowing him to turn his attention back to Rjala. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Rjala stood for a moment longer, looking him up and down. He tensed, waiting for her to tell him to leave. Finally, she nodded. “We’ll get you processed.” She turned on heel and took a few steps before she stopped and glanced back. “It’s good one of you survived.” She gave the ghost of a smile. “Welcome back.”

The squad led him and Silom through the hangar, footsteps echoing, to a clearing outside. It was getting dark, just a last line of red in the sky, but it was still warm, a moist heat that made sweat break across his back. The smell of the jungle enveloped him: the high florals of night jasmine; an underlying scent of loam. Something droned close to his face and he swatted it away, but it buzzed back a moment later: a moth as big as his palm, its wings a gentle purple. He remembered this from a child: the jungle as night fell; Karia beside him hunting night-creatures, and the familiarity settled him.

Ahead another building stood, long and low, and from it came the sensations of many minds, all crammed together. He glanced at the soldier next to him. “What’s that?”

“The barracks.”

Barracks
? “Why are we going there?”

The soldier’s face was a cross of amusement and pity. “You’ll be processed for the army. All new arrivals are.”

The army?
There had to be a mistake. More to the point, there had to be another option. He’d make a terrible soldier. He thought back to Rjala’s cold eyes. She was setting him up, he was sure of it, maybe to make sure he’d leave, or to keep him where she had control over him. Either way, he didn’t like it.

“You know,” said Kare, “I’m wondering if I can see Darwin le Payne? He knew me when I was a kid.”

“Darwin’s dead,” said the soldier. “About a year ago.”

Kare’s stomach fell, surprising him– he wouldn’t have thought it should matter, after the last day on the base. But Darwin had been the only person who’d stuck up for his dad at the end, even if he hadn’t stopped them being forced out. Perhaps the passing years had brought things back into focus, had made the memories of the Darwin he’d known as a child, always welcoming them to base, take the place of the bitterness. Hell, maybe he was just growing up.

Kare looked at the barracks. He’d forced himself into a corner in trying to leave Dignad–
his mother would know he was alive. There was nowhere else to go to unless he wanted to watch his back every day, knowing all it would take was one slip for the Empress to close in on him.

Right, then.
He put his shoulders back and walked into barracks. How bad could it be, after all?

Lichio smoothed his jungle fatigues, checking for stains. He’
d have liked to get changed into his formal uniform, but when Eevan requested a meeting it was best to move right away, brother or not.

He swallowed his nerves and rapped the door. There was no need to be worried. He’d done nothing wrong. Well, nothing he’d get fingered for. He bounced on the balls of his feet.
Come on, let’s get it over with
. At last, a voice, low and authoritative, called for him to enter. He crossed the room until he reached the desk and stood to attention, his eyes fixed on the wall ahead, covered with Eevan’s various certificates. Why he felt the need to do so escaped Lichio– surely the major’s black panther insignia was enough?

“At ease, Lichio.” Eevan nodded to a seat opposite his own. “Sit down.”

Lichio sat, fighting the urge to wriggle on the hard seat. Eevan leaned back, crossed his legs, and relaxed into his familiar leather chair.

“You asked to see me, sir?” said Lichio, fighting the urge to call him Eevan. Half-brother or not, Eevan had been adamant that when Lichio joined the army, he’d show proper respect. It was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated, to date.

“We have a pair of new arrivals.” Eevan gave a smile, one Lichio knew well, and not in a good way. “I’m placing them in your dorm.”

So why not send a memo?
“Yes, sir.” He waited; let Eevan spell out exactly what he wanted. Lichio wasn’t going to make it easy.

“Does the name Kare Varnon mean anything to you?”

“Of course.” Lichio fought to keep his voice steady; anything about the Varnons was big news, probably the biggest possible in the Banned. “One of Ealyn’s twins. Died a decade ago.”

“Apparently not.”

He resisted the urge to ask which bit he’d got wrong. “No?”

“He arrived about two hours ago. Nearly wiped out the port.” Eevan smirked, and it made him look mean as well as bad-tempered. “Apparently he didn’t inherit his dad’s piloting skills.” He sobered. “How well did you know him?”

“Not very.” Lichio picked his words with care. “I was about six when the ship vanished. Sonly knew him better. Do we know how he survived?”

“He wasn’t on the ship when it went down. He’s been hiding on Dignad until a couple of weeks ago when he tried to leave and attracted the wrong attention. He and his cousin made it off-planet; his aunt died in the escape.” Eevan closed his data pad. “A couple of things worth noting. Three weeks ago, an army squad on Dignad were blown up inside a transporter. There were no survivors. Varnon claims he was behind it, that he had no option but to do it.” Eevan touched his head. “He claims he did it with his powers, that he’s a psycher.” His face darkened. “Given what I know of him from the past, I believe it to be true; when he was a child he showed signs of being an Empath. Do you know what that means?”

Lichio nodded. “He senses peoples’ emotions.”

“He can read minds,” said Eevan. “He can crawl around and take your thoughts. Like his mother.”

Lichio frowned. That wasn’t what an ordinary Empath could do. “Surely not. Besides, aren’t there rules for psychers? Their code of conduct?”

Eevan leaned forward. “His father was a maverick. Kare has grown up untrained. He hasn’t even attended school.” His face reddened, angry. “When we were children he tried to use his powers on me.” Lichio managed not to wince; his brother had a long memory and could be downright vicious. “He had no discipline, his father had no rules, he has had no teacher.” He rapped his hand on the desk. “Which bit of that sounds good?”

“None.” Although most of it was interesting.

“Indeed.” Eevan sat back in his seat. “I don’t want him using his psyche. Not in my army. In fact, if the decision had been mine, he’d have been kicked off base the minute he arrived.”

Oh dear. Eevan over-ruled was never a good thing. “So he stays?” asked Lichio.

“He stays.” Eevan’s smile widened, making Lichio’s skin crawl. “Until we can see if he can live up to the potential of his name. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Since when did he come across as stupid? The heir to the empire, on side and half-way smart, would be an asset; but if he was an idiot or a maverick, he could do more harm than good. “And you want me to do what about it?”

“Work him hard. We want to know what he’s made of.” Eevan pointed at Lichio. “And make sure he doesn’t misuse his powers. I want to know he can be trusted with whatever’s in that head of his. That’s why he’s in your dorm. You’ll report directly to me about it. Understood?”

Perfectly
. “Yes, sir.”

Eevan nodded. “Good. You’re dismissed.”

Lichio stood, saluted, and turned to go.

“Lichio.” His brother’s voice was quiet, dangerous.

“Yes?”

“Make sure you do this right,” said Eevan. “I want him hemmed in, I want it done by someone I can trust, and I don’t want any fuck-ups. Keep him in his place.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I understand what you’re saying.” And he absolutely did.

“What now?” asked Silom. They’
d been allocated a bunk, given a brief familiarisation, then left in their bare, utilitarian dorm, with orders to report for duty in the morning.

Kare shrugged, trying for relaxed; there were a lot of people in the building, judging by the mutter of their minds, and it was hard to think. “Food? There’s supposed to be a mess.”

“Good plan. I’m starving.” Silom set off to the right, and Kare followed. If there was food, Silom would find it. Sure enough, the sound of plates clattering reached them, and the first smell of food filtered down the corridor.

They rounded the door into the canteen and Kare stopped, stunned. He’d been here before, with Karia. They’d filled their pockets with supplies to take on the ship. Their dad had caught them, scaring them by grabbing them and announcing he had hamsters instead of kids.

He put a hand on the counter to steady himself, still spooked from seeing her earlier. It had been years since she’d last appeared to him, and he hadn’t been prepared for it, even though it made sense– everywhere else they’
d shared had been destroyed.

“Did you hear me?” Silom waved a hand in front of his face. “What do you want?”

“Anything.”
Nothing
. He turned, leaning against the counter, and scanned the room. It was too bright, the diners’ faces in sharp focus, making him nauseous. There were too many people here, their minds pressing on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find some space for his own thoughts, but still they came at him– snippets of other peoples’
lives, threaded personalities, not quite complete.

“Tea, coffee, piss… any chance of an answer?”

Kare focused on Silom, grasping his exasperation; his worry about Liane; grief; new from their flight from Dignad, a sense of growing older.

“Coffee.” He reached for some cups but something touched his leg, making him look down. Karia was beside him, stuffing her pockets full of food. Her pocket bulged and he reached for it, sure it was going to overfill. His hand closed on empty air.
She wasn’t real
. He jumped back, knocking Silom’s arm.

“Watch it!” Plates fell from the tray and bounced on the floor, their contents spilling, seemingly in slow motion. Karia grinned, her smile the same as when they’d been children, and then waved and ran from the room.

“What the
hell
is wrong with you?” Silom snarled.

“Nothing.” He staggered to the nearest table and sank onto its bench. He was going mad, he had to be. He hadn’t used the power enough over the years, hadn’t kept up the right level of intensive–
to hell with that, incessant
– practice his dad had demanded, and it had turned on him, like he’d been warned. Either that, or living as a hermit for a decade meant he just didn’t do crowds.

A tray slammed on the table in front of him.

“Try breathing before you pass out,” said Silom, his voice pitched low, almost a growl.

He nodded and took a deep, ragged, breath.

“Brilliant. Keep going.” Silom took a chip and pushed the plate to the middle of the table, but the smell made Kare gag. He lifted the coffee, inhaling its aroma, and it cut through the onslaught of thoughts, giving him space to think.

“You want to tell me what’s happening?” asked Silom.

No
. Silom waited and Kare knew he wouldn’t break first– he rarely did.

“Too many people,” Kare said, eventually. “I can’t hold them back…”

“Thought as much. You’ll have to find a way, or you’ll be known as the resident weirdo.” Silom picked up a chip. “What else is wrong? You’ve been freaking since we landed, and the port was hardly hiving with people.”

Kare paused, feeling like an idiot, but it would feel good to tell someone. “I saw Karia. Twice.”

“Terrific, now the dead sister’s turned up. Fantastic.”

“Your sympathy is overwhelming.”

Silom leaned across the table. “You need to pull yourself together.” His eyes were unflinching. “Either that or admit it’
s too much, ask for some credits and leave.”

“I know.” He did, damn it. His father had been the best pilot the Banned had and he’d still been kicked out. He had no illusions; the empire's heir was only useful if he was up to the role. Always assuming he wanted it. He rubbed his temples; if the bloody voices would stop for a minute, he could concentrate. “I know. Give me some time.”