Undercity (13 page)

XII

Lavinda

Colonel Lavinda Majda resembled a younger version of her sister the Matriarch, but with a different quality that was hard to define. She wasn’t more willowy than Vaj and not quite as tall, but still with that familiar upright carriage. She exuded the confidence of someone who didn’t even realize she was self-assured. I knew I was in the presence of a damn good officer when I spoke with her, but she lacked some indefinable edge that Vaj possessed. Lavinda seemed more human.

We stood in a sun-drenched chamber on an upper floor of the palace. Light poured through the many arched windows and pooled on a floor of interlocking tiles designed from blue stone that people mined out of the dead seas. I had grown up breathing the dust of those rocks, but no trace of grit showed in these polished tiles that paved the floor in graceful mosaics.

Lavinda was doing the Majda thing, standing at the window, looking out at the view with her hands clasped behind her back. I wondered if she realized what a luxury she owned, that she could stay here as long as she pleased, flooded with sunlight, staring at the mountains.

I spoke. “Colonel Majda, my greeting.”

Lavinda turned to me. “Ah. Major.” She inclined her head. “Thank you for coming.”

I hadn’t thought I had a choice. A summons from Majda, no matter how politely phrased, was still a summons. “Did you want an update on my investigation?”

“If you have anything to report.”

It had only been two days, but it seemed a good idea to give her something. “Scorch may have had another base of operations in the aqueducts, one we didn’t know about.”

“May?” She came over with her easy, long-legged stride. “You haven’t checked?”

“That’s where I was headed.” I would already be there if she hadn’t called me to the palace.

She considered me. “Chief Takkar says you continue to shroud your movements.”

“That’s right.”

The colonel waited. I had nothing more to say.

After an awkward silence, Lavinda said, “Major, I understand why you feel the need.” Dryly she added, “I would be an idiot if I didn’t.”

“Idiot” was the last word I expected to hear from a Majda in a sentence about herself. Lavinda was definitely different from Vaj. I said only, “I’m better able to do my job that way.”

“I know.” With a tired exhale, she pushed her hand through her hair, leaving the short locks tousled. “I cannot, however, speak for the task force commanders at HQ.”

Undoubtedly she meant her sister, who was offworld, heading up the main investigation at ISC headquarters. “Is there a problem?”

Lavinda began pacing. “From what we’ve learned, Scorch’s operation was a minor part of a much more substantial smuggling operation centered elsewhere than Raylicon. It looks like she simply offered a way station they could use to pass through with their goods.”

On the surface, that made sense. Something felt wrong, but I didn’t see what, not yet. “I’ll let you know if I discover anything.”

Lavinda nodded, preoccupied. She stopped at the window and resumed her Majda stare at the mountains. This was getting us exactly nowhere. I went over and joined her at the window. “It sounds like the major work of the investigation is taking place offworld.”

“Most.”

I waited with her, all agaze at the mountains. Sure, they were nice to look at, those majestic peaks of blue and red stone. But still. Why stare at them so much?

“It’s meditative,” Lavinda said. “It calms my mind so I can think more clearly.”

Ho! I stepped back, staring at her. “Why did you say that?”

She turned to me. “You wondered why I liked to look at the mountains.”

My pulse stuttered. “How could you know that?”

“You practically shouted it.”

No, I had not practically shouted it. I had not practically whispered it. I had not spoken one freaking word.

“I can’t usually get thoughts,” Lavinda said. “Most of the time, I only sense moods.”

Sweat beaded on my forehead. “You’re a psion.”

“An empath,” she said. “I’m a bit of a telepath, but I can only pick up unusually strong thoughts, and even then, only if a person is close by.” She was watching me closely. “You shield your mind well. Usually I can’t read you at all. You relaxed here for a few moments.”

Well, shit. No, I couldn’t think that. She might pick it up. But she said I had shields. Damn right. I was no expert on psions, but even I knew that most people raised natural barriers to protect their minds without even realizing it. In the army, we had learned methods to strengthen and control those barriers. I imagined an iron wall ten feet thick clanging down to protect my mind.

Lavinda winced. “That much force isn’t necessary.”

I spoke carefully. “I’d heard that some royals were psions.” I hadn’t ever really believed it, though. The words
empathy
and
Majda
seemed incongruous.

“It varies,” Lavinda said. “I’m the only full psion in our family. Both of my sisters show traces, as did our parents and most of our children. Dayj and his father are full empaths.”

That was one little fact the EI at my penthouse had neglected to mention when I asked about the Majda husbands. No wonder Dayj’s mother had married Ahktar. Empaths were rare, less than one in a million. Someone with Lavinda’s ability was probably one in a ten billion. How very nice for the Majdas, that life bestowed them with yet another advantage over the rest of the universe. Like they needed more.

Don’t,
I told myself. Resenting the Majdas served no useful purpose.

Don’t what?
Max asked.

Nothing.
I needed to be more careful. It was odd Lavinda said I had dropped my defenses. It was true, though, I did feel a bit more relaxed with her than I did with her sisters or Chief Takkar.

After several moments of me pondering, Lavinda gave a wry smile. “You’re an unusual one.”

I blinked. “I am?”

“Very few people can stand in silence with me. Most get nervous and talk to fill the empty space. You don’t.”

“You like that?” She had smiled. Sort of.

The colonel spoke dryly. “I don’t need people to tell me what they think I want to hear. They fill up my hours with useless words.”

Even after I had learned to converse in the above-city style rather than the abbreviated dialect of the aqueducts, I’d never been one for much talk. However, I did need answers, especially after her cryptic comment about offworld task force commanders. “We should talk more,” I said. “Why did you say we have a problem with the taskforce?”

“They want me to send troops into the aqueducts,” Lavinda said. “The exact wording on the communiqué I received was ‘Clean up the blasted place.’”

Damn.
“Colonel, if you send down soldiers, my people will hide, not only themselves but anything useful we could hope to find.” They were experts at disappearing. Like Jak. He could close up his casino in less than an hour, and even I couldn’t find him. “They’ll scatter into the dark. You’ll never find what you’re looking for.”

Her voice cooled. “I have full ISC resources, Major. We can rout out anyone or anything.”

I doubted she had any idea how much stolen tech-mech was floating around the undercity, including from the military. I couldn’t say that, so I gave her another truth. “If you do track people down, what will that achieve? No one will talk to the military. You’d have to interrogate citizens who’ve done nothing wrong, and they couldn’t give you a good picture even if you did. I doubt my people even know how much they know. You need someone who can convince them to trust her with enough pieces of the puzzle that she can assemble it into a coherent whole.”

“That person being you, I assume?”

“That’s right.”

She watched me with one of those appraising Majda stares. “Very well, Major. I will give you three more days. Beyond that, I need results or we do it my way.”

Three days to stop a disaster. ISC wouldn’t see their attempts to “clean up the slums” as a threat, but they didn’t know my people. Families would hide. Children would flee. Gangs would stalk the shadows, ready to explode. The drug punkers would arm themselves. If ISC went into the undercity with force, my people would fight back. It could only end in violence and death.

“Major?” Lavinda was watching me with that unsettling scrutiny, except now I understood. She was trying to read my mood. I imagined the barrier still protecting my mind.

“Three days,” I said. “I can work with that.” It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing.

We took our leave of each other then, but just as I reached the arched exit of the room, Lavinda said, “Major, wait.”

Puzzled, I turned around. “Yes?”

She was standing by the window, facing me in the streaming sunlight. “Your army records say that you lived as a ‘feral child’ before you enlisted. What does that mean?”

My shoulders tensed. “Probably that children run in packs in the undercity.”

Lavinda frowned. “And their parents let them do this? Why aren’t they in school?”

Gods. She had no clue. “We learn, just differently.” My voice cooled. “Even if children in the aqueducts wanted a formal education, no Cries school would take them.” I’d heisted my education, sneaking access to the most elite virtual schools by shadowy pathways few people knew existed. I learned enough to get me into the army, and once there I enrolled in every class they had available to recruits. I’d studied in a fury, making up for all those years of eking out an education from a system denied to us.

Lavinda blinked. “None of our schools will take undercity students?”

“None,” I said flatly. I had tried every blasted one.

She said, “I understand you were part of a gang.”

“That’s right.” Was that supposed to justify denying me an education?

“Where were your parents?”

“I don’t know.”

She frowned. “Some records must exist. Where were you born?”

“The Down-deep.” I was lapsing into dialect, even knowing I should use above-city speech with a Majda. It was instinctual defense against her questions.

“The what deep?” she asked.

“Down.”

“What did you say?”

“Born under the aqueducts.”

“Then how did you end up in the orphanage?”

“Someone left me there.” I did not want this conversation with a Majda. Not now. Not ever.

“The orphanage must have records of your family.”

“Nahya.”

Her forehead furrowed. “What?”

Above-city,
I told myself.
Talk like her.
“No,” I said. “They have no records of my parents.”

“How long were you there?”

“Three years.”

She looked frustrated. “Did someone adopt you?”

“No. I ran away.”

“At
three
years old?”

“Yes. With an older girl.” I clenched my fist, then realized what I was doing and forced my hand to relax. “This is all in my army files.”

“I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

“Nothing to say.”

“How did you and the other girl live on your own?”

“With other rats.” Damn! I’d sworn never use that word again.

Her forehead furrowed. “Other what?”

“Other children.”

She spoke carefully. “My understanding is that very few children live in the slums. The authorities in Cries collect the younger ones and find them better homes. They’ve had less success with the gang down there.”

“Gangs.”

“There’s more than one?”

Gods, she had no clue. “Kids form groups. It’s a support system, especially for those without enough to eat.”

“I hadn’t realized.” She hesitated. “Maybe we could help.”

You bloody think so?
I held back the angry words.

Think what?
Max asked.

Nothing.
Gods. Now both Max and Majda wanted access to my brain.

I believe she genuinely wants to understand
, Max thought.

I didn’t know what to make of Lavinda’s interest. If I said nothing, I might lose the chance to help my people deal with their unrelenting poverty. If I screwed this up, though, ISC would send in troops or take away our children.

I spoke with care. “Colonel, the undercity is a valued community to its people. They don’t want it torn apart.” She would understand community, being part of two that were close knit, the military and aristocracy. “But they could use help. For one thing, the children need better food.”

She rubbed her chin. “I thought someone ran a soup kitchen down on the Concourse.”

That was news to me. “Who?”

“I’m not sure. It’s been there several years, I think.”

A soup kitchen. It was a generous idea, but my people would never go. They hated anything with a whiff of charity, besides which, they’d believe the kitchen was a place to trap kids so the Cries authorities could haul them off to the orphanage. Which for all I knew might be true. Nor were they likely to visit the Concourse openly, with all its lights and crowds, especially given that vendors or the police might shoot at them.

“I’m sure it’s a nice place,” I said.

Lavinda was studying me again. “Major, I’m not your enemy.”

Of course she wasn’t my enemy. We both were loyal to ISC and the Imperialate. Except I knew that wasn’t what she meant. The idea that an aristocrat might actually care what happened under the city was so hard to process, my brain wanted to shut down.

Careful
, Max thought.
You might not like her solutions to the problems you both see. But Bhaaj, she could help. You have to figure out what you want and convince her to do your way instead of sending in troops.

I don’t know what I want.
Not yet. I spoke with difficulty. “Colonel, it’s hard for me to talk about my youth. But I appreciate your interest in helping. Give me some time to think about answers to your questions and let’s talk again.”

“I understand.” She inclined her head. “Take all the time you need.”

After that I really did take my leave, and I was glad to escape the palace. I didn’t yet know how to absorb this latest development. A Majda had taken a personal interest in the undercity.