Without a Front (41 page)

There was that knowing smile again. “You have no idea how many things you already get right.” Salomen stood up and walked over, not stopping until she was between Tal's legs. The intensity in her eyes was mesmerizing as she braced her hands on the window and leaned in, closer and closer, until their foreheads were almost touching. “Can we go back to the beginning of this conversation?” she whispered. “The part where I told you how much I missed you? Because I forgot to mention something else. I love you.”

Tal tried to say it, but the words wouldn't come out. As Salomen slipped one arm around her, she buried her face in the fragrant warmth of her tyree's neck and prayed that Fahla would let them have a few pipticks before the flash. She needed this comfort and she needed to hide her face, because they weren't equals. Salomen was far ahead of her.

CHAPTER 65
First rain

 

Micah woke in the gray
light of dawn, a lifetime of training keeping him perfectly still in bed while he worked out what was wrong. As his brain came to full alertness and identified the pervasive drumming sound, he grumbled to himself. Great. The rains had come in the night, half a day before they were predicted. That would make the morning's field work a muddy, messy pain in the backside, and everything from now until the end of autumn was going to be a constant slog. This was his least favorite season, when the long summer ended abruptly with the autumn rains that seemed to have no end.

He rose and wasted no time pulling on trousers and tunic; the air was noticeably colder this morning. Picking up his belt, he wandered to the window while buckling it on and looked out into the back property.

“You're insane,” he said, shaking his head. “And I am so glad I'm too old for your running detail.”

Tal was there, her only concession to the pouring rain a waterproof running suit and a brimmed hat that kept her hair and face dry. The five Guards with her wore matching outfits, but other than that, none of the runners seemed to have noticed the inclement weather. They stood around in relaxed stances, having their usual morning chat before starting their run. Tal laughed at something Gehrain said and smacked him on the shoulder. Then she turned and set off, the Guards instantly surrounding her in the standard formation.

Micah waited as they jogged out of sight. Sure enough, a familiar figure appeared, following Tal and her Guards at a safe distance.

“Well, I'll be Fahla-damned.” He wouldn't have believed Herot would be there this morning. Not after last night's temper tantrum, and especially not in the cold and the wet.

Micah felt a tiny bit of grudging respect. Maybe Herot had something resembling a man inside him after all. Despite all his outward anger and resentment of Tal, he was still trying to prove something to her.

“Herot, you give yourself away,” he murmured. “You wouldn't be so keen on this if you didn't care about her opinion.”

He watched the figure until it was swallowed up in the rain, then turned and headed for the kitchen. A hot cup of shannel sounded perfect right now.

CHAPTER 66
Horten harvest

 

For Tal, the morning was
an exercise in frustration. She hadn't had nearly enough time with Salomen the previous night, and her assignment to transport duty this morning meant she wouldn't see her during the day, either. The few glimpses she got while carefully maneuvering the large farm transport under the field cover and helping the crew with loading were hardly sufficient. Salomen was everywhere at once, organizing and supervising an impossibly chaotic harvest. Tal didn't know whether it would be much easier if it were dry; the tight schedule of the distribution center and the fact that the horten had to be cut immediately prior to loading meant that stress levels were high whether it was raining or not.

Though the rain certainly didn't help, she thought as she pulled her boot out of the squelching mud. It was impossible to keep anything clean. The inside of her transport already looked like a mud bog, and they had been working for just two hanticks. She hated to think what it would look like by the end of the day.

“Done!” one of the workers shouted over the din of rain pounding on the field cover. He hit the control for the rear door, watched it slide down, and slapped his hand on the side. “Get it out of here!”

Tal hopped inside, sighing with relief as she shut the door and sealed out the noise. She looked over at Varsi, who was pulling escort duty in the passenger seat. “Ready?”

“Always. Looks like Herot is, too.”

Tal glanced up from her controls to see Herot waiting in the second transport, just beyond the field cover. As soon as she lifted off and moved out of the loading area, he zipped past her and settled in to receive a new load. They had been going back and forth from the field to the distribution center all morning, and the frantic schedule would continue for another five days. But the end was in sight. Once the horten harvest was over, all field work was suspended for a full moon. Nothing could be done in the rains, so traditionally this moon was a time of rest, relaxation, celebration…and repair work on equipment. It was also the time when the landholder hosted a feast for the field workers, which—judging by the conversations Tal overheard—was the main focus of everyone's fantasies at the moment. Apparently, Hol-Opah was known for its magnificent autumn feast.

As she flew toward the north boundary, two military transports rose up to flank her. The distribution center workers had probably never seen anything quite like it, but the escort was necessary since she was flying off Opah land in a non-secure transport. She had tried to talk Salomen out of assigning her this duty, reasoning that the number of Guards and military transports required would be overkill for the simple task of flying the horten a few lengths away. But Salomen was adamant. She wanted Tal to have “the full experience,” as she put it. After two hanticks of going back and forth, always rushed and under pressure, Tal was forced to admit she'd had no idea how stressful and numbing this kind of work could be.

There was one benefit, however, and it was a big one: the transport smelled divine. This was a bowl of horten soup stripped to its raw essence and multiplied by a thousand. It was comfort and warmth, the scent of a honeywood campfire on a late autumn night. She would have taken flying duty simply for the chance to breathe this air. If Salomen ever found a way to bottle this fragrance, she could make a fortune.

Less than ten ticks after leaving Hol-Opah, Tal landed at the distribution center, where Nikin and his crew were waiting to unload. With the precision of a well-trained fighting unit, they had her transport cleaned out almost before the engines had fully spun down, and she was off again, passing Herot on the way back.

“Sure gives me a new appreciation for horten soup,” Varsi said.

“That it does. And for a nice quiet High Council meeting where only six people are yelling back and forth, and no one is getting stuck in the mud.”

“At least it's only until midmeal. Then you get to yell at some bullies.”

Gehrain's morning mission had been successful, and Shikal had quickly procured the permission of all the parents, who were reportedly embarrassed by their children's behavior. Tal would have three guests on her flight to the Pit.

“I admit I'm looking forward to that,” she said.

“Wish I could see it. There's not a Guard in the bunkhouse who didn't want to go to that school today and hand out a few disciplinary lessons.”

Tal smiled. “If Jaros had any idea that he has an entire unit of Guards as his personal fans, he'd never come back to the ground.”

The military transports dropped to their staging area shortly after they crossed the boundary to Opah land, and soon Tal was maneuvering back under the field cover and into the scene of controlled chaos. She settled down in the loading area, where another large pile of horten had already appeared. Opening the door to the din of pounding rain and shouting workers, she shook her head. Truly, she would never look at a bowl of horten soup the same way again.

CHAPTER 67
Bullies

 

Salomen never managed to break
free of her duties that morning, leaving Tal to fly back to the main house without ever getting to speak with her tyree. She grumbled that she might as well have stayed in Blacksun; it certainly would have been easier logistically. No wonder Aldirk thought she was cracked.

Her poor mood improved with a meal, shower, and clean uniform, and grew better still when she arrived at Blacksun Base. The walk from the landing pad to her office was marked by respectful salutes and cheerful greetings, and by the time she stepped inside her office, a sense of familiar comfort had settled over her like an old, soft cloak. Here she was one warrior among many, in a place where everyone operated within the same social structure and with the same training and expectations. It was this ease, among other, more practical considerations, that made the caste houses so essential. The State House represented the opposite concept, teeming with people of all castes who all seemed to want something from her. In her state office, she sometimes counted the ticks until she could leave and palmlock the door behind her. In this one, she never looked at a clock.

She moved to the curving outside wall, which was solid weapons-grade glass. From this vantage point, twelve stories off the ground, she had an even better view than she did from the State House. All of the base was laid out before her, and beyond the perimeter was nothing but forest. Normally she could see the skyline of Blacksun far in the distance, but today it was hidden by rain. And somewhere beyond Blacksun, well out of her sight, was a holding near Granelle where Salomen and a large field crew were working their legs off in mud and noise. She felt a little guilty for being here, in the clean comfort of the biggest office on base.

Her senses picked up Micah and Gehrain in the hallway outside her office, accompanied by three unfamiliar minds broadcasting fear.

“Enter,” she called.

Gehrain opened the door and stood aside as three young boys in rain cloaks walked in, followed by Micah.

“Lancer Tal,” Micah boomed in his unit instructor's voice, “these are the boys who assaulted Jaros Opah. What would you have us do with them?”

Tal had to work to keep the grin off her face. Micah was having his own bit of fun.

“That depends on what they have to say for themselves. What are your names?”

They glanced at each other, each waiting for someone else to speak first.

Tal solved their problem for them. “You!” She pointed at the boy on the right, who stood half a head taller than the other two. “Speak up. I don't have time to wait for you to find your courage. You've already demonstrated that you have none.”

The boy bristled despite his fear, standing a little straighter but still unable to meet her eyes. “Nilo Fortenza.”

Tal looked at the dark-haired boy next to him. “And you?”

“Silmartin Hanteese.”

The third boy spoke up before she had to ask. “Pendar Fall.”

“Nilo, Silmartin, and Pendar,” Tal said, “I will not call you by your family names. You have not earned them. You're here because your parents are ashamed of your behavior, and with good reason. They've given me permission to deal with you as I see fit.” She pointed to the large table on her right, at the other end of the office from her desk. “Sit down and wait.”

The boys shuffled off while Gehrain and Micah came up to Tal.

“What did you learn?” she asked quietly.

“Nilo was the ringleader,” Gehrain said. “Jaros recognized him right away. He did most of the hitting. According to the head scholar, he and Silmartin are schoolmates and have gotten themselves in trouble more than once—Jaros isn't the first boy they've bullied. Pendar is a recent addition to their little group. He just joined the school this cycle; one of his fathers is ill and he's spending the cycle with his aunt and uncle. I don't think he likes his friends very much, but he craves their approval. Jaros said he hung back most of the time, shouting at him and egging on the other two. He only joined in briefly, and as soon as Jaros landed a blow, he backed off.”

Tal looked at the table, where three sets of eyes were immediately averted. Stifling a smile, she said, “Ten cinteks says Pendar is the first to look me in the eye.”

“I accept the bet,” Micah said. “It will be Nilo. They follow him.”

Tal looked at Gehrain, who gave the boys an appraising glance. “Pendar,” he decided. “He has the least to fear.”

Micah shook his head. “You will both lose. But I'll accept a good drink in payment if you prefer.”

“Done. Now, if the two of you wouldn't mind standing behind my chair? I might need backup.”

That taxed their ability to stay serious, but they nodded and followed her across the room.

At the table, she took a seat across from the miscreants and watched their faces while Micah and Gehrain stepped into position behind her. The boys did their best to hide their fear, but their emotions were wide open.

“You've been extraordinarily stupid,” she said. “You probably could have continued beating up on other boys indefinitely if you hadn't chosen your last target so badly. Jaros Opah is part of my host family, and I don't take kindly to attacks on my family. He said you attacked him strictly because he defended my name. Is that true?”

They squirmed in their chairs.

Sternly, Tal said, “Is. That. True.”

“It wasn't like that,” Nilo mumbled. “Just a stupid prank, that's all.”

“A prank,” Tal repeated. “A prank that resulted in three boys ganging up on a child two cycles younger. Sounds like great fun for everyone.”

They fidgeted.

“Have you ever seen a more miserable bunch, Colonel Micah? They can beat up a smaller child, but they can't look me in the eye.”

“It wasn't a prank,” said Pendar. He raised his head, meeting her gaze, and Tal discreetly poked Micah's leg with her elbow. “You're going to ruin Alsea, starting with the producers. Everyone says so. Except the Opahs, and Uncle says the only reason they aren't speaking openly is because you're there and they're frightened of you.”

Tal's lips twitched. She was fairly certain that Pendar's uncle had cooked that one up to keep young ears from hearing what most of Granelle thought was the real reason.

“I see. Did Jaros seem frightened of me?”

He looked down.

“You won't find the answer in the table. When you were hitting Jaros and he fought back to defend my name, did he seem frightened of me?”

He shook his head.

“There goes half of your theory, then. If that much of it is wrong, perhaps the rest is, too. Did it ever occur to you to wonder why he was fighting back instead of running?”

After a long pause, he looked up again and nodded.

“Because he's not just part of my host family. He's my friend and ally.”

She could almost see the gears clicking in his head. It had never occurred to him that the Lancer could have friends. That made her a real person, not just a figure.

Without looking away from Pendar, she raised her voice and said, “Nilo!”

The taller boy jerked in his seat, and she turned her head.

“Explain something to me. Why aren't you capable of hitting a small child all by yourself?”

“I told you, it was just a prank,” he said, but his trembling voice belied the aggressive persona he was trying to present.

“Pendar says it was not. Which means one of you is lying.” She leaned forward. “And I know it's you. Didn't anyone warn you that I'm a high empath? Try again.”

She stared him down, feeling his fear growing along with the desperation of a bully who was facing the truth.

“He was just a stupid little boy!” he burst out. “He wasn't supposed to fight back. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have gotten hurt.”

“So you're blaming Jaros for the fact that the three of you beat him.”

“I'm bigger than he is! What kind of an idiot fights someone bigger than he is?”

Micah snorted behind her, and Tal had to work to keep her face straight. She rarely got the chance to fight anyone her own size.

“An idiot who is braver than you,” she said, and turned her attention to Silmartin. He shrank into his chair, foiled in his hope that she had forgotten about him. “Do you agree with Nilo? You think it's Jaros's fault that the three of you beat him?”

He looked from her to Nilo to the table. “I don't know.”

“Oh, for the love of Fahla. That's it.” Tal stood up. “Two of you are liars, all three of you are bullies, and you've committed assault. Your parents asked me to give you a fitting punishment, so I'm taking you where we put bullies and violent people. Colonel Micah, is the transport ready?”

“Yes, Lancer Tal.”

“Good. Get up, boys, it's time to go.”

“Where are you taking us?” Pendar's voice was shaking.

“To the Pit, of course.”

“What?” Nilo's face was white, and all three boys were aghast.

“You're surprised?”

“You can't take us there!”

“Of course I can. We've already informed your parents where you're going, and they've given their approval. They're ashamed of your behavior.”

“But they can't!” Nilo began to cry. “They can't! I don't want to go to the Pit!”

Micah walked around the table. “Goddess above, show a little courage. You've earned this, now face it.” He hauled Nilo out of his chair and marched him to the door.

Tal looked at the other two. “Are you coming under your own power, or do we drag you out as well?”

Though clearly terrified, both of them got up. Gehrain put his hand on Silmartin's shoulder and escorted him after Micah and Nilo, while Tal walked with Pendar. They were halfway to the lift when Pendar looked up at her, his eyes brimming with tears. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. You're right, it was stupid and cowardly, and I won't do it again. Please don't take me to the Pit.”

Even a half-trained empath could sense his sincerity. He was ashamed, scared halfway to his Return, and wishing with all his strength that he hadn't done it.

Tal leaned down and spoke quietly. “I said I was taking you to the Pit. I did not say I was leaving you there. Be careful of making assumptions.”

As they continued down the corridor, his emotions underwent several shifts while he processed her words. Finally, he looked back up at her. “Can I make the assumption that you
won't
leave us there?”

She nearly laughed but kept her face straight and squeezed his shoulder instead. “That is a safe assumption, yes. And I will ask you to keep it to yourself. Colonel Micah and Lead Guard Gehrain will tell the truth if asked, but Silmartin and Nilo must ask the question first. Or apologize, as you did.”

He nodded. “I won't say anything, I promise.” They reached the lift and stepped in, where the enclosed space served to amplify Nilo's sniffles all the way to the ground floor.

As the door slid back and the others filed out, Pendar tugged at Tal's uniform jacket. When she looked down, he said, “Will you tell the truth if I ask, too?”

She nodded. “Unless it's a state secret.”

“Are you really going to destroy Alsea?”

“Can you think of a single reason why I would want to? Especially after I fought so hard to save it from the Voloth?”

That kept him quiet all the way to the building's entrance. Over the general shuffling as Tal, Micah, and Gehrain put on their rain cloaks, Pendar leaned in and said, “I can't think of any.”

“Neither can I.” She led him out the door.

The pouring rain eliminated any possibility of conversation until they reached the small, sleek transport used for trips not requiring her Guard unit. First Pilot Thornlan stood respectfully by the door as they entered and shook off the rain.

“Lancer Tal, welcome back. It's been too long.”

“I know what you mean.” She indicated their passengers. “These three will be accompanying us to the Pit.”

Thornlan widened her eyes. “They're young for that, aren't they?”

“Yes, but they ganged up on a boy two cycles younger and beat him.”

“Oh, I see.” Thornlan looked over the boys, who all hung their heads. “So you have no honor and you believe that hurting others makes you strong. Then you'll fit in very well in the Pit. Most Alseans there were sentenced for the exact same reasons.” She gave Tal a quick smile. “If you'll get them in their harnesses, we can lift off.”

Tal led Pendar to a nearby seat, where she brought the crash harness over his shoulders and snapped it in at his hips. “Have you ever flown in a transport before today?”

He shook his head.

“We have a long way to go, and the transport will get us there quickly. The harness is necessary because we'll be flying at higher speeds than normal.”

He nodded and looked out the window.

She stood watching him for a moment, absorbing the youthful strength of his emotions. Damn if she wasn't actually starting to like the boy. He had spoken honestly in the beginning, looked her in the eye, and sincerely apologized. Nilo really was a little dokker, and Silmartin was too afraid to speak up for himself, but Pendar had promise.

After checking on the others, she tapped her earcuff. “We're all ready back here, Thornlan.”

“Very good. Engaging Blacksun beacon now.”

Tal sat facing Pendar and pulled on her harness. Normally, she wore one only during the beginning and end of a flight, but in the interest of setting a good example she would keep it on this time. She glanced at Silmartin, seated across from them and facing Gehrain. Micah and Nilo were just ahead, and she smothered a smile at the expression Micah shot her. He was beyond exasperated with the sniveling child in his care.