True Son (2 page)

It was time to check in with Saunch, who was guarding the transmissions station with Berliott, another remote viewer. Gevri pictured Saunch in his mind, formed the telepathic link, and sent his thoughts:
Has Berliott found anything yet?

Nothing
. Gevri heard Saunch’s voice clearly in his mind.
Maybe they’ve given up?

I doubt it
, Gevri replied.
I have a feeling they’ll try one last time before the reinforcements get here
.

I would if I were them
, Saunch answered.

Exactly. Stay sharp. Tell Berliott that Jix is out scouting. Hopefully we’ll have something to report soon
.

Yes, sir
.

A few minutes later, another message came to Gevri’s mind, but it wasn’t from Saunch. This message came as an image rather than as words. He’d tried to teach the other telepaths how to communicate with images, and they could do it, but words still came more easily to them. Beyond that, this message had an entirely different flavor, which was the best way Gevri could describe it. The image that came to him was lush and wild and raw, and it could only be from Jix. She’d found something.

Jix was showing Gevri a cluster of discarded equipment: a helmet. An equipment bag. A mess kit. It looked like someone had left in a hurry and forgotten a few things.

Now Jix was sending him scents: tobakk, the kind the Nau soldiers all smoked. And now urine.
Gods, Jix! Enough smells!
Gevri couldn’t help covering his nose, even though he knew the scents were only in his brain.

The next images were landmarks, which helped Gevri figure out where Jix had found these things.
Good work
.

Gevri turned to Pik, who was still trying to locate the enemy with his remote viewing, and pointed in the direction of Jix’s discovery. “Check over there. Jix found something.”

“Yes, sir.”

If he could recover the items Jix had found, Mirtala might be able to glean more information from them. She was the only archon whose dominion manifested as psychometric ability, which allowed her to touch an object and know who had used it, how they had used it, and what they had been feeling at the time.

If Gevri had been able to see the items with his own eyes, he’d be able to use telekinesis to transport them. But the image Jix had sent him was not strong enough to create the psychic connection required for telekinesis. He’d need to send someone out to retrieve the items.

Gevri created a telepathic connection with Neeza, who was stationed at the power generator.
Neeza?

Sir?
came Neeza’s tiny voice. Her telepathic messages mirrored her speaking voice, which was quiet and shy.

Jix found some equipment left behind by the enemy. I need you and Wendomer to go find it and bring it to the watchtower so Mirtala can do a reading. But don’t touch anything. Have Wendomer check it out with clairvoyance. It could be rigged
.

Rigged?
Neeza asked.
You mean like booby-trapped?

It could be
. If Gevri had learned anything from his trip to Deliverance, it was this: count on your enemy to lie and trick you at every turn. Taemon and all the people of Nathan’s City had taken deception to despicable lengths. Someday Gevri would return to Deliverance and settle that score, but for now, he had to stay focused on this mission.

Just be careful
, he told Neeza.
Check back with me after Wendomer has a good look
. Gevri sent Neeza the same images of the landmarks that Jix had sent him.

We’ll find it, sir. We’re leaving right now
.

Be quick
, Gevri added. Sending Neeza and Wendomer to collect the equipment meant Cindahad would be the lone archon at the power generator, which was a risk. But it wouldn’t take long to collect the items, and Mirtala might be able to extract valuable information from them. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity to learn what the Nau were up to. Besides, it wasn’t as if Cindahad would be
completely
alone. There were a few regular soldiers stationed at the power generator.

The next few minutes seemed to drag on forever, and Gevri was feeling more uncomfortable with each one. Pik still couldn’t locate the Nau soldiers, but Gevri was certain they were out there. Mirtala was restless. Neeza hadn’t checked in yet. Jix had been silent since finding the supplies. Gevri felt reluctant to send any telepathic messages, since an ill-timed message could be startling at a moment when concentration is needed.

Finally Neeza’s voice came to his mind.
Lieutenant Gevri, sir?

Yes. Your report, Neeza?

We found the items, sir. We haven’t touched them, but Wendomer senses nothing out of the ordinary. Permission to transport the items to your location, sir?

Gevri hesitated. Why were those things left out there? Such an amateur mistake seemed very unlike the Nau. And yet even professionals made mistakes. Gevri’s job was to make use of them.
Have Wendomer check one more time. Report back
.

Yes, sir
.

Gevri could picture Wendomer staring at the helmet, the equipment bag, and the mess kit, but it was just his imagination. If he had clairvoyance, like Wendomer — and the Nathanite Taemon — he would have been able to sense things about objects that were not visible or knowable by any of the five standard senses. He wouldn’t have to send his soldiers out to find things for him. It wasn’t from lack of trying that Gevri didn’t have clairvoyance, though. Once the general discovered these rare forms of dominion and realized that Gevri already possessed telepathy, Gevri had been subjected to every kind of —

Wendomer says they’re clean, sir. Permission to transport the items?

Bring them in
, Gevri told her.

Gevri glanced at his watch. Pik had been exercising dominion past his optimum duration. “As soon as we get those two back inside the compound, you can take a break,” he said. “But right now, I’d feel a lot better if you could tell me where those enemy soldiers are.”

Pik nodded. “I’ll find them, sir.”

“Sometime this decade would be nice,” Mirtala added.

Jix
. Gevri reached out to the jaguar.
Got anything else for me?

A vague feeling came back from Jix, which Gevri took to mean “Not really.”

“So that’s where you are,” Pik murmured. “Closer than I thought.”

The dreamy tone of Pik’s voice triggered a sinking feeling in Gevri. “Where? Where are they, Pik?”

When the boy didn’t respond, Gevri shook him by the shoulder. “Pik! You’re overextending. Break the connection. That’s an order. Break the connection!”

“Clever little demons, all of you. Watch out, Neeza!” Pik’s unfocused stare and wide pupils told Gevri everything. Pik had allowed too much of his awareness to drift far outside of himself. He had lost the connection with his immediate physical surroundings. It was a dangerously vulnerable position for a remote viewer: Pik couldn’t hear, see, or feel anything near him. In a few minutes, physical fatigue would set in and Pik would fall into a deep sleep. It was the body’s natural defensive reaction.

I pushed him past his limits
, Gevri thought as Neeza and Wendomer came into sight, carrying the supplies.
Now I’ve lost my remote viewer
. He should have rotated his team earlier, but there was no time for crying over a tipped bucket. He had to keep it together. He had to get Neeza and Wendomer back into the compound before the Nau got to them.

Neeza! Wendomer! Drop the items right now and
run
!

Yes, sir
.

Without another word, the two young archons did as they were told. The helmet, the mess kit, and the bag were left behind as they sprinted toward the gate that led to the watchtower.

Gevri took a deep breath and glanced at the other soldiers stationed as sentries on the watchtower. What he was about to do would baff them out, but they were going to have to live with it.

Focusing his gaze on the three items, Gevri tapped into his telekinetic powers and ordered each of the objects to relocate. In a matter of seconds, the helmet, mess kit, and bag lifted from the ground, floated through the air, and came to rest at his feet.

“Time to do your thing, Mirtala,” Gevri said, ignoring the gasps and murmurs of the nearby soldiers. He turned to check on Pik, and sure enough, the boy was snoring like a lumbersaw. If he’d been out in the field, it could have been a problem to be so defenseless. But here, inside the compound and surrounded by his team, Pik would be fine until he woke up in an hour or two. Gevri eased the boy’s glasses off his nose and slipped them into his shirt pocket.

Mirtala crouched over the helmet. She hung her head and closed her eyes, moving her hand gracefully across its surface. “Hostility. Anger. Resentment. The man who wore this was a talented artist. Then he was forced to become a soldier. He blamed it all on the Republik.”

“Tell me where he is right now,” Gevri said, trying to control the urgency in his voice.

When Mirtala lifted her head, tears welled in her eyes. “He’s dead,” she said. “And his paintings were beautiful.”

“I’m sorry.” And he
was
sorry. Sorry that an artist was dead. Sorry that Mirtala had to feel that. Sorry about all that muck, but the Ohandai could still fall if his team failed. He took the helmet from Mirtala and handed her the bag. “Try this.”

Watching Mirtala’s face, he saw her features relax and sensed that she had forced the grief into a place where it would have to be dealt with later. Gevri tried to remember how old Mirtala was. Eleven? Ten, maybe? A strange combination of sadness and pride washed over him.

“Oh. This could be helpful,” Mirtala said. “It’s a communication device. They transmitted orders with this thing.”

“What were the orders?” Gevri asked.

Head tilted sideways, Mirtala concentrated. “Just a minute . . .”

Neeza and Wendomer came to the top of the stairway, panting and looking worried.

“Are they out there?” Wendomer said. “Did you see them?”

“I can’t see them, but I know they’re out there somewhere. Pik saw them. Mirtala is about to —”

“Gods’ aid,” Mirtala said, her voice strained with fear. “These things were planted as a distraction to draw us away. The plan is to attack the power generator!”

A sick feeling shuddered down Gevri’s spine. It was just as he’d feared.

Summer was in its glory on Mount Deliverance. The sun warmed Taemon’s shoulders through the rough cotton fabric of his shirt. Insect sounds thrummed in the trees. Taemon walked through the dry grass that came up to his knees. He could have walked on the path, but then he would’ve missed the way the grass whispered to him as he parted it with long strides.

He was alone with his mountain in the summer. All was right.

Amma had wanted to come with him, but he needed this solitude. She had offered to wait for him at the bottom of the trail, but he’d begged her not to. Even the thought of someone waiting for him would interrupt the freedom he needed right now. The freedom to open his mind to the Heart of the Earth. The freedom to set all other cares aside and commune with the world he belonged to.

He emptied his mind and focused on the feel of the grass against his legs. The give of the soil beneath each footstep. The call and answer of birdsong.

Taemon had lost track of how far he’d walked, but when he came to a huge ruddybark tree — the trunk was wider than a quadrider — he stopped.

He settled himself in the mossy ground next to the enormous tree, stretching out on his back and gazing into the leafy abyss above him. How old was this tree? Had it been here when the prophet Nathan had pulled the mountain out of the earth to separate Deliverance from the rest of the world?

Taemon had often thought about his ancestor Nathan, the first one to be given psi by the Heart of the Earth. How much power did it take to create a mountain? Nathan would have had to envision every surface, every crevice, every streambed, every valley and ridge, then have held that vision in his head as he sent an unfathomable amount of psionic power into the earth’s surface. And what about the plant life? Had Nathan envisioned each tree and flower and meadow as well? Or had that come later? Maybe this very tree had been envisioned and created by Nathan himself.

I am the creator of trees and meadows
, a voice said in Taemon’s mind.
By my consent, others are allowed to take part in creation
.

It used to bother him, hearing her voice like that, but now the familiarity of it was a comfort. This is why he had come, to speak to the Heart of the Earth.

I’ve done my best
, Taemon replied.
I’ve tried very hard. But I’ve made a mess of things
. While Taemon had managed to scare off an initial attack by the Republikite army through tricks and a surprising display of psi, he had no doubt that the army would attempt a second attack at some point. Perhaps they’d even realize that the people of Deliverance were powerless and that Taemon’s show had been just that — a show.
I didn’t anticipate any of that when I took psi away from Deliverance
.