Harbinger (2 page)

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Authors: Cyndi Friberg

BOOK: Harbinger
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Contrary to her claim, Javin hadn’t trusted her with the IG’s secrets. Javin hadn’t trusted her at all. But in the months leading up to his death, and even more so since he passed beyond, she’d become a tenacious snoop, digging into all sorts of places he’d never intended her to go.

Nearly an hour passed as she searched through reports and correspondence. Vox took it all in stride, but Danvier grew progressively more impatient. “Who headed the research team?” He paced the narrow aisle between the center-facing seats. “Perhaps they can point you in the right direction.”

It was a good idea, but she didn’t want to admit it too quickly. Meeting the terms for her release was the logical solution to this situation, but it wasn’t the only alternative. If she were fast, she could use the interdepartmental message function to alert someone of her situation. But who should she contact and what should she tell them? She was in an undetectable shuttle somewhere above the city. It was doubtful a rescue party would be able to locate her. And whomever she contacted would want to know why she hadn’t sent the message to Javin.

What a mess.

After ten more minutes of digging—and scheming—she sent an audio-only ping to, Bynar Forett, the project director. He was a friendly old man who had recently retired and Haven was relatively certain she could get him talking. But how could she alert him without her captors realizing what she had done?

“Haven, my dear, why are you denying me the pleasure of your beautiful face?”

She could picture Bynar’s deeply lined face and warm brown eyes. They’d chatted on several occasions and she’d liked him immediately. “Video is malfunctioning on my shuttle. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

“Well then, I’ll just close my eyes and remember the last time I saw you.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“Unabashedly so, dear girl,” Bynar said. “If I were fifty years younger, Javin would be in real trouble. Now, what can I do for you?”

Danvier stopped pacing and listened intently to every word she said.

She closed her eyes with a sigh. Bynar was one of the few people in the IG who was completely innocent. He didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess, likely endangered by her actions.

Instead, she opened her eyes and resigned herself to cooperation—at least for a time. “Javin asked me to run down a device for him, but he was in the middle of four other things when he told me, so his instructions left much to be desired. I tried contacting him for clarification, but now he’s completely offline.”

Bynar chuckled. “Sounds like Javin. Tell me what he said and I’ll try to fill in the blanks for you.”

“You’re such a sweetheart.”

“Please tell me you’re attracted to older men. Okay,
much
older men.”

They both laughed then Haven said, “The device Javin needs allows him to track the ships with those new covert shields. I was pretty sure you headed up the project. Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“Of course. Haven’t you heard, I know everything.” When she didn’t laugh, he said, “That was a joke, Haven.”

“Sorry. Javin doesn’t ask me to do too many things. I hate disappointing him.”

“Well, you won’t disappoint him. I’ll make sure of it. The device is called a modulating resonance detector and they have a small stash of them out at Stockton. Do you have access to the warehouse inventory database?”

“I do and you’re my hero. I’ll give you the biggest hug of your life next time I see you.”

“I’ll hold you to it, young lady. Com me again if you have any trouble finding it.”

She quickly closed the original program and opened the inventory database. “I think I have everything I need. You’re the best.” Bynar disconnected without further comment and Haven searched the inventory for the device he’d mentioned. “Sure enough. There are six warehoused in Stockton. It’s about two hours from here.”

“Not in this ship.” Danvier secured himself in the pilot’s seat then entered the coordinates.

The ship lurched forward with a burst of acceleration then gradually the ride stabilized. “Where did General Nox stash the other five
Phantoms
? Quinton has half the fleet looking for them.” She wasn’t sure why she’d told them. She just needed something to say and it was likely Garin already knew. Quinton was crown stirate, Rodymia’s planetary leader, and sworn enemy of the battle born rebels.

Without bothering to look back, Danvier asked, “How long has Javin been dead?”

Her gaze snapped from the back of the harbinger’s head to Vox. “Was my question as rude as his?”

“You can’t blame a harbinger for protecting his mast—”

“Anchor,” Danvier stressed. “Garin is not my master. I serve him by choice not obligation.”

Interesting. Clearly, Danvier disapproved of the traditional harbinger labels of servant and master, but why did he feel so adamant about simple syntax?

“You can’t blame a harbinger for protecting his
anchor
,” Vox corrected. “It’s instinctive.”

They lapsed into silence as Haven realized anything she asked would likely receive a similar reception. Danvier clearly had no intention of revealing anything to her, but what about Vox? His involvement in this little adventure was even more confusing than Danvier’s.

“What’s a Bilarrian doing with Rodyte rebels?”

His lips curved then parted in a lazy smile. “At the moment I’m saving your ass.”

“No, my ass is already saved. Now you’re rushing around to secure a device that will help the battle born locate an enemy. What’s in it for you?”

“If we indulge your curiosity, Ms. Tandori, we’ll have to keep you and make sure you don’t use the information against us,” Danvier warned. “I thought you wanted to be released.”

The threat in his words was light, yet clear. Dig any deeper and her freedom was at risk. Not trusting herself to stay quiet, she stared out the main viewscreen and tried to ignore the men. They’d left the urban clutter of the capital behind and flew over massive automated farms and food-processing plants awaiting the high-yield and fast-growing crops. Danvier was right. They were flying much faster than they would have been able to in any other transport. At this pace, they’d reach the endless warehouses of Stockton in an hour, maybe less.

“You appear unharmed,” Vox said after a period of anxious silence. “Is your appearance accurate? Are you all right?”

She dragged her gaze away from the passing scenery. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
Better late than never.

He smiled as he looked away, almost as if he’d heard her mental grumbling.

She tensed. Bilarrians were rumored to have all sorts of powers. And they achieved their abilities without the benefit of integrated technology. The Bilarrian obsession with magic was at the heart of the bloody, centuries-long war. They considered anyone without the ability to manipulate magic inferior and Rodytes took offense.

“Why are you helping them?” She kept her voice low, hoping Danvier wouldn’t overhear.

“I’m not helping them,” Vox whispered back. “I’m helping you.”

Word games. All she got from either of them was twisted inferences and evasions. She released a sigh of frustration and folded her arms over her chest.

The battle born rebellion was a convoluted mess, in Haven’s opinion. In an attempt to reintroduce magic into the Rodyte population, Rodyte soldiers were allowed/encouraged to capture Bilarrian females and impregnate them. These children were known as battle born. Though frowned upon in recent years, the tradition had been partially successful. Battle born daughters were frequently born with the ability to manipulate magic.

Battle born sons, however, were born latent. Magic flowed through them, but they were unable to access it. Because they failed to accomplish the primary purpose for their existence, battle born males had become an underclass consigned to hard labor or military service. Decades of abuse and subjugation, combined with the repeated blunders of a weak planetary leader emboldened the rebels and allowed them to amass supporters in important places. Everyone knew a military coup was inevitable. It was just a matter of time.

“Where am I going?” Danvier asked twenty minutes later. “Stockton warehouses all look the same.”

She frantically analyzed the situation. They’d promised to release her, but she wasn’t sure she could trust either of them. No, escape was a better option, if she could find the right opportunity. All the warehouses in this section were owned and operated by the Integration Guild. If she could force Danvier to land, she’d run into the nearest building and summon security. Or she could knock him out and bio-stream to safety. How hard could that be? He was a harbinger not a soldier.

But first, she had to get rid of Vox.

Careful to maintain a calm expression, she looked at the holo-display. Could Vox read it backward? The image could be mirrored for viewing from any angle, but she hadn’t activated the feature. The letters were small and the location column was one among many. “Building 329, area X, row 417, bin 14.” She rattled off the correct information for everything except the row. Area X was high security. The Bilarrian would set off alarms as soon as he solidified. It wasn’t necessary to send him too far off course.

“Do you have a building diagram?” Vox unfastened his safety straps, so she quickly closed the database program. “Teleporting blind is never a good idea.”

It took Haven a few minutes to locate the image, but a three-dimensional representation of the warehouse soon hovered in the air between them. “This is row 417 in area X. The bins are clearly labeled.” Haven entered a command and the row she’d designated began to blink.

“You’ll need to move like lightning, my friend.” Danvier turned around, but made no move to rise. Haven couldn’t tell if he was on to her or not. “There are guard stations here, here, and here.” He reached back and entered a command into his control panel. The three positions soon blinked as well, surrounding the destination she’d indicated for Vox. Danvier looked at Haven as he added, “And you need row
219
, not 417. Our guest is still playing games with us.” The display adjusted and accented the correct row. “What about alarms? There are two separate security grids, one over the entire building and another isolating area X. Will teleporting through them set off intruder alerts?”

“I don’t know.” Lying to someone’s face always made Haven fidgety, so she kept her answers vague. “If the building is only protected by a perimeter grid, he’ll be fine. If there’s anything more sophisticated, it could be tricky. Sorry. I don’t know what measures they use where.” That much was true, sort of. She didn’t know the specifics of how each section was protected. However, area X in each building was high security. So it was probable Vox would encounter more than a simple security grid once he got inside the building.

“Then let’s take this in stages.” Danvier looked at Vox again. “I’ll set down behind the building so you can teleport through the first grid.”

“I can do that from here,” Vox objected, clearly insulted by the suggestion.

“I’m aware. But I can’t back you up if you’re ambushed unless we’re on the ground.” He glanced at Haven as if he was reluctant to explain in front of her. “The shield modulator has been offline since we came out of hyperspace. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but without it the bio-stream engines can’t place me inside the building.”

“If the ship can’t get you inside,” Haven asked, “how will being on the ground help?”

A dangerous smile transformed Danvier’s thoughtful expression. “If Vox runs into trouble, I’ll convince a guard to let me in or just blast a hole in the side of the building. A battering ram works better in close proximity.”

She wasn’t about to argue. Escape was also much easier if they were on the ground.

Vox waved away Danvier’s concerns. “I’ll be in and out so fast, the rest won’t matter.”

Thank the gods for Bilarrian arrogance.
She stared at the main viewscreen, not looking at either of the men. Personally, she was sympathetic to the rebellion, so she hated endangering these two important players. Still, her own wellbeing had to be her top priority. She needed to get back to IG Headquarters as quickly as possible. The longer she was gone, the more chances there were that someone would learn her secrets.

Then a possibility focused her rambling thoughts. She was making this harder than it needed to be. If Vox teleported her into area X, all she’d have to do was scream. “The fastest way in and out is if I go with Vox. I know the layout of the warehouses.”

Vox laughed. “Thanks, doll, but no thanks. I can see the mischief in your eyes. It’s better if you stay right here.”

Better for whom?
If he heard her mental protest, he didn’t bother reacting. Danvier found an isolated area in back of the warehouse that was large enough to accommodate the ship. Then he said something to Danvier in a language her com-bots couldn’t translate. Any language that was considered sacred was omitted from translation databases. Was Vox some sort of priest?

Without further discussion, Vox blinked out of sight.

Danvier released his straps and stood, taking a moment to stretch his back. How long had he been cooped up in this shuttle? Had they come all the way from Earth? According to rumors, that was where the rebel leaders had run after Quinton declared them fugitives and offered a sizable bounty for each of the Nox brothers. Haven released her restraints as well, but remained seated. Danvier was much bigger than most harbingers. No wonder he felt comfortable surrounded by battle born rebels. He gave off the same take-no-prisoners vibe.

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