Dreamer (15 page)

“But—” Sejal began.

“Let me,” Vidya said. “Silent Acquisitions offered us food, shelter, medicine, and money in exchange for two babies. The condition was harsh, but at the time it seemed a better choice than painful death. If I had known then how difficult it would one day be, I would have let myself die with Prasad beside me.”

“But you didn’t know,” Ara said.

“I was young and we were dying.” Vidya’s hands twisted in her lap. “Less than a week after Prasad and I signed the contract, the government surrendered to the Unity, and the Unity took over our contract. It dictated new terms, and we could do nothing. The money was reduced to a fraction. The first contract promised we would have housing and medical care for a year after the second child was born, but a month afterward, we were on the street. I don’t know how, but Prasad found work as a garbage collector. We had two tiny rooms in a half-ruined apartment building, a single small income, and I was pregnant again.”

Vidya fell silent again. Sejal stared at his mother as if hypnotized.

“That must have been Katsu,” Ara nudged.

“Yes. She was a beautiful baby, and all ours. The Unity knew she was Silent, but I managed to convince myself that the ten years I would have with her before they took her away would be a far, far better thing than losing babies I never had the chance to hold.”

“But you eventually realized that wasn’t the case,” Ara said. “So you arranged a fake kidnaping, hoping to hide Katsu someplace safe.”

Vidya looked at Ara, genuinely surprised. “The kidnaping was very real. When she was nine months old, someone broke into our rooms. They took my little Katsu. I woke up in the morning and realized she hadn’t cried all night. My first thought was that she had slept through the night, but then I found her empty bed.” Vidya’s voice had gone flat again. “Prasad was...I don’t think I can describe it. He wanted to run in a thousand directions at once. I begged him to let the guard find her, but Prasad insisted that he had a better chance, that he knew the neighborhood better. He left, and he didn’t come back. I reported him missing as well. A week later, he was still missing, and I realized I was pregnant again.”

“Me?” Sejal said.

Vidya nodded. “You. I was sure whoever had kidnapped Katsu had killed Prasad, and that they would come next for this baby and for me. So I ran.”

“You changed your name to Vidya Dasa,” Ara put in. “Easy to do, since the Annexation damaged so many records.”

“Yes. I took part of Prasad’s name and made it mine and his son’s. Perhaps that was a mistake.”

“But if your genes make every child you and Prasad have Silent,” Kendi asked, “why were you so sure Sejal wasn’t?”

“I arranged it to be so,” Vidya said.

“What?” Sejal said. “How?”

“When you were less than two months in the womb,” Vidya told him, “I found a...man. A genegineer. He said he could make a retrovirus. The virus would alter your genes and render you non-Silent.”

“A lie,” Harenn said flatly. “Such changes are only possible for an embryo less than two weeks old. For a fetus, it is not.”

“This was a new procedure,” Vidya said. “He wanted a test subject, but could find none. Making a valuable Silent into a worthless non-Silent would be highly illegal in the Unity. Because of this, he was willing to perform the procedure without payment. And it worked. When Sejal was born, the Unity doctor scanned him for Silence and found none. I was so happy.”

Sejal shifted on the cobblestones. “But I’m Silent, Mom. I touched Kendi, and something exploded in my head. He said only the Silent feel that.”

“We’ll have to figure that out later,” Ara said.

“I didn’t want my son to disappear,” Vidya continued as if no one had spoken. “The genegineer gave me secret money in exchange for permission to examine Sejal from time to time, which let me stay away from tax collectors, but the only place I could afford to live was a neighborhood as bad as the one where Katsu had disappeared. Drug dealers, gangs, and thieves were everywhere, and the Unity did nothing to stop them. But one day I realized the good people in the neighborhood, the ordinary ones, outnumbered the bad, and I remembered a thing Prasad had told me when we were walking to Ijhan during the famine. He said that our old community had been destroyed. To survive, we had to build another.

“I talked to my neighbors and united the building I lived in. Then the building next to us joined us, and the next and the next. We threw out the gangs and built a wall out of scraps and ruins to ensure they would stay out. We repaired everything we could and cleaned what we couldn’t. Our neighborhood was a proud place, and it was as safe as I could make it.”

Vidya stopped speaking and looked at Sejal. “Though I didn’t make it safe enough,” she added, voice heavy with sadness instead of anger. “How could you do this thing? I thought you were a good son, a son I could be proud of.”

Sejal flinched as if he’d been dealt a physical blow. “And you were a great mother?” he snarled. “Do you know what my first memory is? Sitting on the floor at a damn neighborhood meeting. You were talking to other people and ignoring me. You’re always talking, Mom, and it’s always to someone besides...besides me. You talk, but you sure as hell don’t listen.”

“I talked and I worked,” Vidya cried, “so you would never have to worry about being attacked in the street or stolen away from your family.”

“What family?” Sejal shot back. “All my life, you were doing something for the neighborhood. When were you home to make us a family?”

“I was home always,” Vidya said, looking shocked. “The neighborhood was my job. The collections paids our rent. The neighborhood—”

“I don’t give a shit about the neighborhood,” Sejal shouted. “Don’t you know anything?”

“I know my son has been selling himself on the street.”

“I was doing it for
us,”
Sejal said, voice cracking. “I was trying to earn enough money to get us off this slimy rockball. Just
us.
Not the neighborhood, not anyone else. For once I wanted something for just
us.”

Tears ran down Sejal’s face. Ara squirmed on the bench, acutely wishing she were somewhere, anywhere, else. The looks on Pitr’s and Kendi’s faces proved they felt the same way. Harenn was hidden behind her veil, and suddenly Ara realized how handy such an item must be. She cast about for something to say that could end the argument, but for once she was at a loss.

“What you did was a form of slavery,” Vidya replied in a cold voice.

“It was either that or deal drugs, Mom.”

“It was a terrible thing,” Vidya said stubbornly.

“I only sold myself, Mom,” Sejal snapped. “You sold your children.”

Kendi gasped. Vidya fell silent. Her hands stopped twisting in her lap, as frozen as her face. Sejal froze as well. His words hung in the air. Time and silence stretched unbearably. Ara wanted to crawl under one of the cobblestones.

“Take him,” Vidya whispered.

“What?” Ara said.

“Mother?”
Ben asked in Ara’s earpiece.
“Mother, are you there?”

“Take him with you,” Vidya repeated, still whispering. “I have failed as a mother. Take him and train him and do whatever else you do.”

“Mom—” Sejal began.

“No, Sejal,” Vidya interrupted. “You are right, and you must go.”

“Mother?”
Ben said.

“What is it, Ben?” Ara subvocalized.

“It took me a while to get everything back on line after your file scramble, or I would’ve called earlier. The guard have left the ship. They didn’t find anything, but they’ve posted half a dozen officers outside. I don’t know how you’re going to get in.”

“We’ll worry about that in a minute,” Ara replied, and was suddenly filled with an impulse to rush back to the
Post Script
so she could hug Ben hard. “Stand by.”

“You can come with us, Vidya,” Kendi said. “You don’t have to stay here.”

Vidya shook her head. “I have...responsibilities I must attend to.”

“The neighborhood,” Sejal spat.

“No, Sejal.” Vidya got up. “I have to talk to the man who...made you what you are. There are questions he must answer. And none of you can wait for me.” She reached down and pulled Sejal to his feet. He rose reluctantly.

“Sejal, I love you, and you must go,” she said, and embraced him quickly. “And I am not leaving you forever. I will find a way to join you when I am done here.”

“The monastery is on a world called Bellerophon in the Independence Confederation,” Ara said, rising to her feet. “Once we get out of the Unity, I’ll leave notices about you. When you get out yourself, ask in any public place or on any public network how to contact me—Mother Adept Araceil—and the Children of Irfan. Eventually one of our people will hear of you and take you to us.”

Vidya nodded.

“And now,” Ara finished, “we must leave.”

Sejal and Vidya hugged once more, and a lump rose in Ara’s throat. She had said good-bye to Ben often enough, and more than once had wondered if she’d never see him again. Kendi lead Sejal away, leaving Vidya at the bench. Sejal’s face remained rigid, and Ara didn’t try to speak to him—she was sure he was controlling tears he didn’t want to shed.

As they were leaving the courtyard, Sejal suddenly stopped.

“Mom, there’s a loose floorboard in the back of my closet,” he said over his shoulder. “Put your finger in the knot and pull it up.” Then he stiffly started walking again before Vidya could reply.

CHAPTER TEN

PLANET RUST

I seen my duty and I done it.

—Anonymous

A very subdued group made its way back toward the space port. Unfortunately, their problems were just beginning. Ara activated her earpiece.

“Ben, what’s the status on board?”

“Unchanged,”
Ben said in a broadcast that encompassed Pitr, Kendi, and Harenn.
“Six guards outside the ship that I can see, possibly more I can’t.”

“They figure Kendi has to come back eventually,” Pitr said as they walked.

“What’s the matter?” asked Sejal, who didn’t have an earpiece and could hear half of the conversation. Ara quickly explained.

“So?” Sejal said. “I can hold off six people, no problem.”

All four monks halted on the sidewalk and stared at him. “You can?” Ara said.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you hold off all the guards at the hotel, then, instead of just making one punch the other?” Kendi demanded.

Sejal shrugged. “I can’t do more than one off the top of my head. I need some time to concentrate. Hard to do that when people are throwing lamps and crashing through windows.”

“Sejal,” Ara said carefully, “how many people can you...
handle
at once?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. The most I’ve ever done is eight.”

Ara’s stomach went cold. What was Sejal’s maximum? Ten? A dozen? A thousand? An army? Ara imagined a troop of grim-faced soldiers all unafraid to die because someone else was controlling their very thoughts. Could this boy who had cried at his mother’s feet do something like that?

But he was a boy, Ara reminded herself, who had been selling himself on the streets for money. A boy who grew up without a father and felt neglected by his mother. The perfect recipe for trouble.

Their disguises were still in place, so getting into the spaceport proved relatively easy. The place was crowded, as usual, and guard were everywhere, though none gave Ara and the others a second glance.

“How close do you need to be, Sejal?” Ara murmured over her shoulder. Sejal’s collar and shackles were still in place and he walked a pace behind her.

“I need to see or touch them,” Sejal replied in an equally low voice.

They made their way to the landing field. Harenn trotted off ahead and returned to report that the six guards were still there and that she had found a vantage point that might work.

They ducked and weaved their way across the field. The harsh smell of fuel hung in the humid air, and the sun had fallen low in the sky. Eventually, the familiar gray wedge of the
Post Script
became visible ahead of them. They stopped behind an empty loader and peered around it.

“Is that it?” Sejal asked, pointing. A half dozen guards were waiting by the ramp that extended up to the hatchway, their black and scarlet uniforms unmistakable.

Ara nodded.

“All right.” Sejal strode toward the ship.

“What’s he doing?” Pitr gasped.

“Don’t move,” Ara ordered. A small cynical part of her wondered if the guard would open fire. That would certainly solve her problem. In any case, there wasn’t anything she and the others could do but watch, unless they wanted to take on six armed guard with their bare hands. Sejal, in his shackles and ragged robe, stopped fifteen or twenty meters away from the guard and stood with his arms folded.

“What are you doing there?” a guard shouted, but Sejal didn’t answer. “You, slave! I said, what are you doing there?”

Sejal remained silent. The closest one, energy rifle at the at ready, came forward.

“Listen, boy, when the guard asks you a question, you better—” The guard stopped, frozen in place. Behind him, the other’s faces went slack. Sejal’s gaze was fixed, unmoving.

“Go!” Ara said. “Kendi, you get Sejal.”

The group needed no urging. They sprinted past the motionless guards and all but tumbled into the hatchway when it opened at Harenn’s touch. Ara glanced over her shoulder. Kendi was leading Sejal across the aerogel asphalt. The boy moved slowly, as if in a daze. Ara wanted to scream at them to hurry up, but she kept her mouth shut. It took forever for Sejal to cross the threshold of the hatchway. Ara was starting to slam it shut when another voice shouted, “Wait!”

Reflexively Ara stopped. A figure darted through the hatchway. On the asphalt beyond, the guard hadn’t moved once. The figure slammed the hatchway shut, and Sejal blinked myopically.

“Who—?” Pitr asked.

The figure turned. It was Chin Fen.

“Fen!” Ara gasped. “Why the hell are you here?”

Fen smiled. “Because you owe me a walk on a seapad leaf?”

“Mother,”
Ben’s voice said over the intercom.
“The guard know something’s up, but they don’t know exactly what. They’re demanding entrance to the ship.”

Ara gestured, and Pitr grabbed Fen from behind. The moment he touched Fen’s bare arm, Pitr gasped, though he didn’t let go. “He’s Silent, Mother. I got the jolt.”

A knife appeared in Harenn’s hand, and she flicked it to Fen’s neck. The blade made a scraping sound on his skin. Fen’s brown eyes went wide.

“Who are you working for, Fen?” Ara demanded.

“Mother, what do we do?”

“I don’t work for anyone!” Fen squeaked. “I swear! I hate the Unity. That’s why I came to you.”

“Mother, they’re going to open fire on us. Rifles won’t do much to the ship, but they’ve already radioed for heavier artillery.”

“Take off, Ben,” Ara said.

The floor rumbled beneath them. Harenn’s knife didn’t waver from Fen’s neck and Pitr remained motionless as a hazel-eyed block of granite.

“Kendi, get to the bridge and take over piloting,” Ara said. “We’ve got everything covered here. Fen, you’d better talk fast or I’m going to shove you out the airlock once we make orbit.”

“I got sucked into the Unity right after I left the monastery,” Fen said hurriedly as Kendi ran off. Harenn’s knife remained at his throat. “I thought it would be something good, humans first and all that, but by the time I realized how repressive it was, I couldn’t get out because I had no resources and I was too afraid and then you walked into the office and I knew you weren’t just a trader because it just felt wrong and then when you wanted all that information about Vidya and Sejal so I figured you were up to something big.”

“You paid him to spy on me and Mom?” Sejal asked incredulously. The glazed look had left his eyes.

Ara ignored him. “Why did you choose this particular moment to show up, Fen?”

“I really did come about our date,” Fen said. “We were supposed to meet at seven, remember? You didn’t show up and there was no answer when I called your ship, so I came down. Then I saw the guard and they froze like statues and I saw you rush past them. All of a sudden I saw how cowardly I’d been all these years and that this might be my last chance to get out of the Unity, and oh, please believe me, Ara. It’s true.”

Ara clenched a fist in exasperation. This wasn’t anything she wanted to deal with right now, but she had to do something in the meantime.

“Sejal,” she said, “remove your shackles and put them on Fen. Be ready—you’ll feel that jolt. Pitr, once he’s set up, take him and Sejal down to the galley and explain to Jack what’s going on. Give Jack the master unit—” she handed it to Pitr “—and tell him to keep an eye on Fen. I don’t want him out of Jack’s sight for a second, got it?”

“Yes, Mother,” Pitr said.

Fen yelped when Sejal touched him. “Holy mother! I was right. He’s the one. You found him!”

Ara didn’t respond to this overly obvious statement. “After you’ve taken Fen down to Jack,” she continued to Pitr, “I want you and Trish to go into the Dream. Whisper to anyone who follows us and get them to make mistakes. Harenn, you get down to engineering in case we get hit. We’re in for a rough ride, so be ready.”

Fen accepted Sejal’s shackles without protest. Ara headed for the bridge. Kendi had arrived well ahead of her and was already at the helm. Ben was back at communications, and Gretchen was running sensors. Ara took her customary chair. The ship shuddered slightly, and it made an odd rattling noise.

“What is it with your boyfriend?” Kendi asked.

“Boyfriend?” Gretchen said.

“He’s chained up in the galley,” Ara replied, glancing at the vid-screen. It showed nothing but red sky. “And he’s not my boyfriend. What’s going on up here?”

“We’ve cleared the spaceport,” Kendi reported. “A couple of cargo ships were caught off-guard since we didn’t have clearance or a flight plan, but I managed to dodge them.”

“The Unity’s screaming bloody murder,” Ben added. “We’ve been ordered to return to the port immediately or they’re going to fire on us.”

“Do you think it’s because of Kendi or do they know about Sejal?” Gretchen asked.

Ben shrugged. “They’re not saying.”

“How long before we can slip?” Ara asked.

“Not sure,” Kendi admitted. “I still have to calculate a course. I could do a random slip but I have no idea where we’d come out. The odds of popping out in the middle of a star or something are small, but it’s still a risk.”

“Anywhere would be better than here,” Gretchen said.

“Go,” Ara told him.

“I’m not done,” Kendi said. “Before I can do even a random slip, we have to clear the atmosphere and get out of Rust’s gravity well, and how fast we do that will depend on—”

The ship shuddered hard. A thunderous crash echoed through the bridge, and an alarm blared.

“—on how often they hit us,” Kendi finished.

“Four ships in pursuit,” Gretchen said. “They’re armed with lasers and missiles.”

“That hit caused some light damage,”
Harenn’s voice said from the intercom.
“Do not allow such a thing more than once again or there will be some serious difficulties.”

“Thirty seconds until we break atmosphere,” Kendi reported.

“I’m picking up two missiles,” Gretchen said. “Intercept in fourteen seconds. Thirteen...twelve...eleven...”

“Evade!” Ara snapped.

“I’m trying!” Kendi shouted. The vid-screen sky swooped and dipped as Kendi frantically maneuvered the ship. “The missiles are using visual locks and I can’t break them. And this tub doesn’t have anything to throw.”

“Eight...seven...”

“Ben!” Ara yelled.

“No good.” Ben’s fingers worked the console like hyperactive junebugs. “I can’t find their guidance systems.”

“If they hit us, we will die,”
Harenn said dispassionately.

Ara didn’t know what else to do. There was no time to think. “Brace yourselves, people!” was all she could think of to say.

“Four...three...”

Ara looked over at Ben. If she died, she wanted to be looking at her son. Ben was still working the console, and she knew he’d keep working it until it came apart under his hands. Her heart swelled with pride.

“Two...one...”

WHUMP!

Ara’s head snapped downward under the impact. The ship yawed sideways, and the image on the view screen swooped sickeningly. Alarms blared all over the ship and something on the bridge started to smoke.

“We’re still functional!” Kendi shouted over the noise. “I think I can—there!” The darkening sky righted itself, though the bridge was still filled with noise. A few stars scattered themselves across the vid-screen image like salt crystals.

“Can we still clear the atmosphere?” Ara shouted.

“I think so!” Kendi yelled.

“Peggy-Sue!” Gretchen screamed. “Mute alarms!”

The alarms went silent, leaving a ringing in Ara’s ears. “Why are we still alive?” she demanded.

In answer, Ben hit a key. The speakers came to life, though recent damage made the transmission hiss with static.

“Attention
Post Script,”
said a voice. “This is Rell Hafren of the warship
Star’s Doom.
  We know you have the boy Sejal Dasa. He is the property of the Empire of Human Unity. Hand him over at once and you will not be harmed. Repeat: hand over the boy and you will not be harmed.”

“We aren’t transmitting,” Ben said. “They can’t hear us.”

“They figured out who Sejal is,” Ara breathed. “Dammit! I was hoping we could get away before—”

“Mother, the warships are powering up imp guns,” Gretchen reported. “If they hit us with an electromagnetic pulse, we’ll lose main power and they’ll be able to grab us with a gravity beam at their leisure.”

“Sixteen seconds to slipspace,” Kendi said, “and that’s if I push.”

“Push, dammit!” Ara said.

“Ten seconds to power disruption,” Gretchen said.

Ara swore. “Harenn, is there anything you can do to shield us?”

“Not in ten seconds.”

“Five...four...”

“Nine seconds to slipspace,” Kendi reported.

“Attention,
Post Script—”

“. . . two...one...zero.”

Ara braced herself—

—and nothing happened.

“Report!” she said.

“They should have zapped us,” Gretchen replied, obviously confused.

The answer popped into Ara’s head like a cork from a champagne bottle. “Trish and Pitr,” she said gleefully. “They’re whispering to the weapons officers from the Dream and making them hesitate.”

“We have slip!” Kendi smacked his console. A screech of stressed ceramic ripped through Ara’s head and the vid-screen stars dissolved into a rainbow wash of nauseating color.

“Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha!”
Harenn said.
“We are venting atmosphere.”

“Can you deal with it?” Ara asked.

“Not in slipspace.”

“Attention! Attention!” the computer interjected. “Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha. Atmosphere at ninety-five percent.”

“Suits!” Ara yelled, already moving for the bridge’s storage locker. “Move it, people! Kendi, how long before it’s safe to come out of slipspace?”

“Gimme three more minutes,” Kendi said, not leaving his console.

Ara handed out silvery suits and helmets, then donned her own. A breeze drifted through the bridge. “Ben, once you’re suited, take over for Kendi. Gretchen, head below and help Jack get Sejal and Fen set up with the spare suits.”