Broken Vision (24 page)

His second retrieved the goblet and took a swallow. "Aah, just the thing." He resumed his
stroll across the room. "Funny thing. Team's jumpy as jackburs this morning. Not much talk going
on at all. Barely got a respectful greeting. Been gone a whole day too."

"Maybe it's because their team commander wasn't around for stratsec this morning."

"Did you fill in? That would explain it then." Sharm stood over him and regarded him with
a perfectly expressionless face. Then he turned, pulled down the neighboring talweight bench and
settled himself on it. He swung his ankle across his knee and took another swallow of ale.

"Was told to stay away from here if I valued my life. Why is that, I wonder?"

Alerik pulled at the bar, and refrained from grinding his teeth again. Sharm was baiting
him. They'd been down this path many times. For some reason, unknown at present, Sharm was
trying to make him lose his composure. He was neither in the mood, nor did he have the patience
today.

He switched tactics. He let go of the bar, leaned back on the bench and folded his hands
behind his head. "Was she worth disciplinary action?"

"Sliek, yes!" Sharm fell right into step. His eyes lit up. "Think we could move the
governor's seat to Pallas Four? There's no compelling reason, after all, for it to be on Pallas Five.
Would make Maegan happy. Might encourage those miniature Aleriks to appear a little faster."

To his absolute amazement, Alerik felt his legendary patience splinter. "Enough!" he
roared. He slammed his fist down on the bench. It was like watching someone else, yet he couldn't
stop himself, couldn't grab back his control. "The galaxy is on the verge of descending into chaos
again and you're off with a woman, neglecting your duty?"

To his credit, Sharm's expression displayed no satisfaction over achieving his objective.
But then he shook his perfectly groomed head, shifted to a more comfortable position on the bench
and clicked his tongue. "Figured the little Alerik project wasn't going that well."

Alerik shot to his feet.

"Did you know that Mistress Gloriana has quite an interesting background?" A grin still
stretched across Sharm's face, but his eyes were watchful over the rim of his cup.

Anger instantly deflated, Alerik sank back onto the bench. "Fires of Crillac, why do you do
this? Why do I put up with it?"

"Because it's entertaining--for me at least. It releases tension for you...and because I'm the
best second you'll ever have."

"Sliek, that's debatable." Alerik rubbed at his throbbing temple mark. "You spent your day
off with Mistress Gloriana?"

"Only part of it. There was this lovely little black-haired siren who can do things with her
mouth that makes--"

The sound that left Alerik's throat was half-snarl, half-growl.

"All right, then." Sharm cocked an eyebrow. "Later?"

"Is Mistress Gloriana's background of significance or not?"

"Could be." Sharm set his cup down. "Turns out she was a temple slave." He flicked at
something on his sleeve. "On Taragon. Toward the end of the Great Conflict."

Tiny hairs rose on Alerik's nape. "Sacred crystals!"

"That's not the best part." Sharm unfolded himself from his bench and stood. "She wasn't
just any temple slave." He began to pace, hands behind his back, a sure sign he was deeply focused
on his thoughts. "She served a woman priest and her young female disciple. Believe you may have
heard of the disciple recently." He swung to face Alerik.

"Nargune." Alerik stood as well. Bile rose in his throat as he remembered Maegan's utter
repulsion over what had been done to her. Adrenalin raced through his body. Somehow he wasn't
surprised that Sharm was steps ahead. "You were briefed."

Sharm spread his hands. "I serve you. I can't do that well if I'm not informed. Corenna
contacted me after you informed the Council and briefed the team."

"What made you go to Mistress Gloriana?"

"Body language."

"Body language?"

"Her body language was off when the priests were on Pallas Four. Their presence was
more than just a nuisance to her. She was concealing fear and panic, and she did it very well."

"Not well enough."

Sharm shrugged. "I would have questioned her eventually. The communication from
Corenna just sped it up."

"Mistress Gloriana doesn't strike me as the chatty type."

His second grinned. His handsome face transformed into mischievous boy. It was one of
the reasons people underestimated him. "She's chatty all right. Just takes the right incentive."

"Don't want to know." Alerik slashed a hand through the air.

"Huh. Definitely not a good morning in the land of marriage partnerships...or is it the-- All
right, all right." Sharm snickered. Not one of Alerik's other subordinates would have dared push as
hard. And Sharm was pushing hard today.

"She was liberated when the Treaty stripped the priests of their powers. Took one of the
first Coalition transports off Taragon. Had nothing to her name. Everything she has on Pallas Four,
she's built with sweat, bribes, her brains, even her body."

Once again, Alerik had to tamp down on a too swift rise of impatience. "Nargune?"

"Oh, right. Nasty piece of toble, that one, even as young as she was at the time." Sharm
was suddenly deadly serious. "Contrary to what we believe, to what the Coalition believes, it seems
the male priests might not have wielded the power. Gloriana called the woman priest she served the
sha-priestess, the one who controlled ultimate power. Nargune was in training but, frankly,
Gloriana seemed more terrified of her. Wanted to know if anyone knew if she was still alive. Went
so far as to say the only way the galaxy would know peace is if she was destroyed."

"And she has Morgon."

"Instead of Maegan," Sharm replied swiftly.

"Maegan knows she has Morgon."

"Thought the plan was to keep that from her?"

"She asked. I couldn't lie." And he should have. Should have lied to protect her. She might
have forgiven him. Eventually.

"And knowing Maegan, she's wants to mount a rescue?"

"Yes."

"Have a feeling," Sharm said quietly, "that Morgon, certainly more than you or I, knew
what he was getting into. He did it for Maegan. Just a guess, but I think he knew he might not come
out of this alive, despite the assurances of a two-rotation return."

Alerik turned to face the plexiwall and a view that didn't register. His heart beat painfully
in his chest. His head ached. "I can't clip her wings forever, Sharm. It would destroy her."

And it would destroy him to lose her. The worst of it was, he might already have lost her.
She would never forgive him if anything happened to her uncle. Of all the decisions he had made in
his life, consulting the Match Key was quite possibly the most ill-judged.

* * * *

An impasse.

Maegan didn't know how much more testosterone and male posturing she could take. The
small room reeked of it. A laserray couldn't fry it.

In her view, the solution was clear. None of the males in the conference room in the
security center on Pallas Five agreed. Nor could they agree on a compromise.

The worst offenders, Alerik Mariltar and Sharm Foster, seated across the wide console
from one another, would have been a hairspit away from coming to blows if not for their over
civilized upbringing.

Maegan couldn't stand it. She had twice been on the verge of yelling that the protocols and
mores of the Mariltar Nation had no place on this tiny asteroid on the fringe of the galaxy, where
counselors often looked the other way as known pirate traders mingled with law-abiding travelers
and tourists.

A good knock-down, knock-out fight would do both men a world of good. But no, body
language aside, they used the polite words of diplomats, which was getting slieking nowhere.

Yet despite her own simmering emotions, Maegan eyed Sharm with a grudging respect. He
seemed totally immune to the icy anger emanating from Alerik, and hadn't backed down from his
own predictable, totally conformist position: any initiative, scout party, rescue mission or
otherwise, required a mandate from the Coalition Council since one of the nine nations was in this
up to their collective eyeballs. The other men and one woman, besides herself, at the table had long
since refrained from offering their opinions.

And there was something she didn't understand. A persistent feeling she wasn't being told
all there was to know about her exchange with Morgon. So if others could keep secrets, she
decided, so could she. She tuned out Alerik's current argument for launching a covert mission
across The Divide to focus on the problem.

Why would Nargune accept Morgon as a substitute for six children? Had Morgon been the
target all along and Maegan herself an unexpected means to that end? Why would the priests want
Morgon? True, he was the architect of the rescue operation, but he hadn't had any day-to-day
involvement for a good long while, and the network was well enough established with dedicated
volunteers to continue the missions without interruption. They'd been outwitting the Taragon
patrols for longer than a rotation. Nothing about that would change. But the priests wouldn't know
that. With Morgon out of action, it's possible they believed the problem solved.

Something still didn't add up. Maegan rubbed her temples. A headache was beginning to
develop, a regular occurrence since her abduction.

The flat screen embedded in the console in front of her bore an image of the Grogon Belt.
Her mind automatically began to plot a flight path. Forget the mandate from the Coalition Council.
Wouldn't happen in a lifetime, and what were they supposed to do in the meantime? Sit on their
hands and assure themselves Morgon was all right?

Forget Alerik's scout party too. As soon as the scout vessels crossed out of Grogon
airspace, the governor had no authority. Alerik would be putting his career and his team at risk,
although loyal as his team was, they all, with the exception of Sharm appeared more than willing to
go along with his proposal. Corenna and Drakal were visibly revved by the prospect.

She was certain Morgon had left his vessel at the smart dock. She was equally certain the
Mariltar team hadn't discovered the structure when they had investigated his habitat. The
technology would have generated an excitement that would have filtered into the discussion at
some point. The navigation console in Morgon's vessel could have information on the route across
The Divide. It was the only place to start, even though they didn't have a slieking dewring where
Morgon had been taken.

She could hardly launch a mission onto Taragon itself.

Once again, she'd have to figure out how to evade Alerik. It became harder every
time.

She glanced up from the console. Her gaze collided with sapphire blue.

Alerik's eyes narrowed. Fascinated, she watched as they turned smoky. In the background
she was aware of Sharm talking. He was apparently holding a conversation with himself because,
Alerik, now focused on her, was clearly no longer paying attention. A quick look around the table
showed the rest of the team openly watching either her husband or her with expressions ranging the
gamut from amusement to concern.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It."

An abrupt silence fell, followed by a heavy sigh and a creak as Sharm leaned back in his
chair.

Maegan wrinkled her nose. "Last I heard, the Lady Melia was in assorted pieces on the
Pallas Five dock. How could I?"

"You've resorted to bribery before."

"And now my head shot, I'm sure, is available to pirates and law-abiding captains
alike."

Someone started to laugh and covered it with a cough.

Alerik leaned forward. "With your extraordinary range of talents, wife, I wouldn't be the
least surprised to learn you can hack-jump a vessel."

Maegan blinked. She and an ambitious group of four others, also chafing at the restrictions
imposed by the academy, had set out to impress an instructor by hack-jumping his vessel. They had
succeeded with the hack-jump. The instructor hadn't been impressed. He'd been furious, and they
had suffered the rest of the rotation without a single privilege. The incident had certainly made it
into her permanent record. So Alerik knew she could hack-jump a vessel.

"Is that even possible?"

This time, the snickers were audible and there was another heavy sigh from the other end
of the table where Sharm sat.

Alerik's eyes darkened, then cleared to brilliant sapphire. He sat back. "You're right about
one thing," he said. "Every dock in the Grogon Belt has your head shot, your eye scan and your
hand scan, as well as a "deny access" order on you."

It was nothing less than she'd expected. "Well then," she said, "I'll just have to check with
Makiee to see if the ID exchanger is ready yet."

"I don't know what that is. I don't want to know what that is." Alerik's eyes glittered in sure
warning. "You will do nothing. You are confined here on Pallas Five." He turned to Sharm.
"Initiate communications with the Council. My patience has its limits. I won't wait forever. I want
action from them, and I want it immediately, not endless debate about the consequences."

If Sharm was surprised at the governor's sudden capitulation, he didn't so much as blink.
"I'm on it," he said mildly. He spoke to Alerik but his gaze rested on Maegan, his message
unmistakable.

The testosterone had reached unbearable levels, and it was all directed at her.

"Keep me informed." Alerik rose to his feet and reached for her.

She slid sideways a bit on her chair, just out range. He may have arrived at a decision, but
she still sought answers. "Does anyone," she asked, "know what happened to the children?"

It was Sharm who answered into the silence. "Morgon had them," he said. "He did tell us
that much. We assume they're safe."

The relief was enormous. She sank back into her chair and savored a moment of pure
peace. Morgon must have put them back into the network. How he had removed them from Alerik's
custody, she didn't know, but he, of anyone, was capable of that incredible accomplishment.