Watcher's Web (24 page)

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Authors: Patty Jansen

Tags: #romance, #fantasy, #science fiction, #aliens, #planetary romance, #social sf, #female characters

BOOK: Watcher's Web
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There
are?”
Daya.

“Yes. You see,
it is clear that the Coldi race somehow arose from the Aghyrians,
and it happens that every now and then a Coldi couple will have a
child, a boy usually, who is unlike his parents. He will be thin
and tall, and cope poorly with the heat. Most of these children die
young, but the few who survive are men with feared abilities. The
Coldi call them zhadya-born and treat them like they’re
abnormalities. You see, most of them . . .” He made
a helpless gesture. “Most of them suffer terribly in the mind, and
they’re not quite normal, but . . .”

He looked
away. “I could take you to meet them. I think you could help them.”
He drank from his glass, not meeting her eyes.

She didn’t
know what to say. What did he expect? That she would jump at the
chance of meeting a group of mentally unstable men?

What if
Daya is with them?

She shook her
head. “I’d like you take me home.”

He frowned.
“Home?”

“Yes. Where I
came from. The family where I grew up. They may not be my real
family, but no one else has ever looked after me.” Tears again
threatened in the corners of her eyes. Home, where she could go on
being a freak. How could she explain her absence, how could she
forget this world?

“I could take
you home, but you would need to be . . . treated, so you
won’t remember where you’ve been. The Union is strict with its
secrecy laws.” His voice sounded hesitant.

“You mean—if I
go back home, someone will give me some kind of drug?” Anger flared
in her. No, she didn’t want to forget any of this.

“Yes, that’s
true, but there is another option. I would never have thought to
offer this to you, but your history simply can’t be forgotten. I’m
offering to sponsor you for Union citizenship.”

Now it was
Jessica’s turn to frown. “What does that mean?”

“Union
citizenship is awarded to the most trustworthy people of the Union
entities. You must be of good character, you can’t have a criminal
history, and you must have enough intelligence to learn Union Law;
there is an exam. When you’ve passed, there is no limit on what you
can do. You can be called to judge on minor disagreements, you can
teach, and you can even sit on the Union Assembly in the Union
capital Damarq. They deal with inter-entity matters, most
importantly the Exchange, and coordinate responses to major crises
or conflicts. On the practical side, once you’re a Union citizen,
you can travel.” He inserted his hand under his cloak and withdrew
a black card a bit smaller than a credit card. “This gives you the
right to travel wherever you want.”

Jessica took
the card. The surface was warm with the touch of his skin and
completely smooth. “You mean, if I have one of these, I could see
my parents . . .” He raised his eyebrows at that
word. “. . . and still come back here to see what
else the Pengali know?”

“Whenever it
is safe. Barresh is not very stable, I’m afraid. But I’m sure a
visit to the men of your race would be appreciated.”

She could look
for Daya.

“If I agreed,
how long would it take before I get this pass?”

“Not long,
about a year. You could do most of the work in Miran. My family
owns a large house in the noble quarters. You could stay there.
You’d have your own servant, of course.”

“A year?” How
long was a year? “And I can’t contact my family all that time?”

“Strictly, no,
but I know how important family is. Who is your family’s heir?”

“I don’t have
any brothers or sisters. My parents—adoptive parents—never—”

“Just as I
thought—it is important that they know you are alive. If you give
me the details, I will make sure that they are told.”

Jessica opened
her mouth, didn’t know what to say and closed it again. It was as
if the revelation about her past had changed his opinion of her.
She was no longer a nobody, but someone to be held in awe. A
different awe from the way the Pengali treated her. The Pengali
wanted to reconnect. He just wanted to . . . sit and
watch her, with a far-off look on his face.

It was
all so strange, and she didn’t know what to think. His offer
sounded good, although she still didn’t know what he wanted from
her in return. Sex didn’t seem to be it. Maybe she was being
paranoid in thinking that he
should
want
something in return. Maybe he just wanted to do the right thing by
her. Maybe it was what these people did.

Sheesh, what
did she know?

“You can think
about my offer, if you need. With the need to get you a permit, we
won’t be going anywhere for a while, at least until tomorrow.”

Tomorrow! That
was only a few hours away. “I . . . I like it,
I . . .”

“That’s good,
then.”

He finished
his drink in one gulp and slid the lute back on his lap. When his
fingers hit the strings, it was with a sense of determination, and
the song flowing from his lips jumped with life.

Yes.
Let’s do this.

Chapter
21

 

J
ESSICA JOLTED
AWAKE when Daya woke with a gasp. Hazy flames danced before his
eyes. The back of his arms puckered in gooseflesh, but shone with
sweat.

He stood tied
to a wall that was cold like a block of ice. Broad bands looped
around his chest. Tight bands held his arms and legs in a
spreadeagled position. A thin tube led from his left arm to a
machine where a red light blinked; a thick bandage covered his
right arm, the wires protruding from it and leading to a box
attached to a glass-stone vessel filled with what looked like
beads. Whatever they had stuck up that arm still hurt like burning
acid.

Jessica
called,
Daya.

How long had
he been out?

Men spoke in
soft voices somewhere in the room.

“. . . and you got how much from the others?” Daya
was sure he had seen this man before: an army commander of some
kind, somewhere in a field shouting orders at soldiers. The
sharp-faced man looked so familiar, even in the way he was much
shorter and thinner than his subordinates, but the man’s name
wouldn’t come to him.

“With all the
attempts combined so far, we’ve only charged up half this jar.”

“Only half?”
The commander’s voice came like a bark.

“I know, there
are all the other jars still to go. Priming these beads takes a lot
of energy. Some of them just can’t do it.” This was a medico,
pulling on gloves.

Another
soldier slipped a blindfold over Daya’s eyes. “Ready? This will be
easiest if you don’t fight it. Relax, and do as we say.”

Jessica felt
Daya brace himself.

The next
moment, a large quantity of water splashed over his head. Pieces of
ice slithered down his neck, between his tunic and his skin. Water
dripped from the fabric onto his legs.

Cold, cold,
cold, damn it.

Jessica
shivered and caught a brief glimpse of her dark guesthouse room
where she sat on the couch. She needed to get into the bed. But
Daya needed her.

Don’t
give them what they want.
Whatever it was.

He
straightened his back, as if he heard her, determined not to show
his shivering.

Small flares
of heat leapt from within the core of his body, but barely reached
the skin. His mind cast out for the warmth of the body behind him,
but the water thrower had retreated behind the metal wall.

Footsteps came
closer again.

An impossibly
warm hand touched his cheek and thin fingers caressed his wet skin.
“Relax. We won’t hurt you.” The commander’s voice, so familiar.

When Daya
breathed in to argue, he got a mouth full of iced water instead, as
another bucket was upended over his head. He spat the water in a
big a spray as he could. “I want you to let me go. This will be
reported to the Hedron Mines board, and they’ll refuse to do
business with you ever again. You hear me?” Patches of purple rose
before his blindfolded eyes. Chest heaving, he yanked at the bonds,
straining muscles Jessica was unused to having.

I am
you. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.

Still, her
thoughts didn’t connect.

Another load
of ice water crashed over Daya’s head, so cold it hurt.

A raw,
uncontrolled howl escaped his throat. The ice burned like boiling
water. Worse, he was now so cold that his bladder had contracted to
the point where all he could think was the need to pee.

“I
. . . don’t . . . care . . . about
. . . your . . . foul experiments. I’m
. . . freezing . . . to death.”

“Not quite.
We’ll stop before you get to that point.”

The commander
asked, “Anything yet?”

Somewhere in
the room a new voice replied, “No. It usually takes a while, at
least it did with the others, but I’ll say this: I think we’ll need
a lot more of these guys to produce enough energy.”

“How many
more?”

“As many as
you can get, really, unless we find a less crude process.”

“I’m sure we
can find more of these poor men. It’s not as if they have anything
to live for. Everyone thinks they’re crazy.” The commander gave a
chuckle. “Would it help if I brought you a girl?”

A girl?
His girl? It had to be. There
were
no other girls.

Jessica
chilled to the core.

“Hold still.”
The medico pulled the strap holding Daya’s right arm. “A girl?
Hmmm—we could get two, no maybe four babies a year from her, if she
could be made to carry twins—”

The commander
interrupted. “No, that’d be a waste of her strength. I’d want you
to try harvesting her eggs. Prepare yourself for when we bring
her.”

Bring her? His
girl? Where was she?

Tell me
where you are! I’ll help you.

Another load
of iced water hit Daya’s head. Ice heaped on his hair, his
shoulders. He strained his arms, the bonds cutting into his skin.
He arched his back. Fabric ripped. He tore one arm free, then the
other. He sensed the commander’s hasty retreat.

“Restrain
him!” someone shouted.

Daya stumbled
and splashed through the puddles of iced water. Tripped when the
leads attached to his arm held him back. Smelled the distinctive
tang of urine in the humidity rising from the floor. Fresh and
stale, mixed with the lingering scent of cleaning agents. How many
of the zhadya-born men had been reduced to animals before him?
Where were they now?

Were
those men imprisoned in the same place?
Jessica asked. Iztho had talked about
them, too.

The medico’s
voice sounded from far off. “This is a tough one. Stay right there,
boss, I’ll tie him back up. We’re almost done.”

Another load
of iced water hit his skin. Cut into his mind, sent searing pain
into his limbs. Anger flared. Heat rose inside him, spilled out of
his skin, drew energy from the air.

And sucked at
the strands from Jessica’s web.

He ripped the
bandage and needle from his left arm. The blindfold fell from his
eyes. A window flew open by itself; wind whooshed into the room,
tearing at the soldiers’ uniforms. The light blew out. The fire
flickered and it, too, went out. Energy crackled, charged through
his body—Jessica’s body, Daya’s body. The air lit up in a net of
blue lightning, which funnelled into the wires still attached to
his right arm into the huge jar of glass-stone balls. The entire
vessel lit up blue. Someone screamed. “Get out of here!”

Still more
energy crackled into the vessel. Daya writhed on the ground, his
back arched and muscles stiff. Light blazed from his eyes, pulsing
with his heartbeat.

The air
flashed and crackled. A beam of white-hot energy streamed into the
vessel of balls. It shattered into thousands of diamond-flecked
pieces.

*     *     *

Silence.

Soft
sleep.

A faint
heartbeat.

Daya?

Daya groaned
and pushed himself. There was snow under his hands. He was in some
sort of alley, with blind walls on either side. How had he ended up
here?

His head hurt.
His hand hurt; his muscles hurt, his eyes hurt. Pain spiked up his
leg. He now remembered: that was from when he had twisted his ankle
jumping down from the room where the soldiers were all unconscious.
Damn—he was a mining executive, not a bandit; clumsy and awkward
even as a boy.

Sparks swirled
under the skin of his hand. Traces of ash still adhered to his
clothing. His trousers had ripped when he had climbed out the
shattered window. Blood trickled down his leg where glass had cut
the skin. He dared rest only now, this far from the council
building, but it was far too cold for the clothes he was wearing,
and his eyes kept seeing what had happened to him.

The explosion.
The cold water, the flash, the jar of balls. Wide eyes, cramped
muscles, a pulsing heartbeat.

Daya knew:
they were harvesting life energy from the bodies of those with the
ability to collect it and storing it in those beads. It was crude,
but they would find better solutions to collect the most dangerous
and most powerful energy of all. Life energy was everywhere. It
could be harvested from the air, even from depth of space by people
with his ability. They knew where the girl was. He saw her strapped
against the metal wall, screaming as the medico stuck a thick
needle into the soft skin of her lower belly.

Daya hurt,
hurt so much inside that it made him breathe in shallow gasps. He
had to save her, except he didn’t know where she was.

Jessica
reached out for him.
I’m here. Listen to me!

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