Agents of Rivelt, page 5
“I’m enquiring about what goods are in demand. Merchants are always looking for sources, which makes it an easy topic. I never bring up anything black market, but the conversations prompt thought responses from anyone who deals in such.”
“Ah, clever. Do you find slave traders that way?”
He shook his head. “Buyers now and then, but never a seller. They stay well hidden. Let’s go.”
Tracy’s careful thought-reading turned up nothing unusual as she browsed through the shops, nor did she discover any Syndicate watchers. Millions of fleeting thoughts slipped through her awareness. Irritation, hope, worry, cynicism, concern, affection, arrogance, complaint, amusement, fear, longing, satisfaction, despair, jealousy…A kaleidoscope of stained passions underlying the business of the moment—everything from tallying a purchase to the demands of an empty stomach. Finding anything useful was like searching for a lost diamond in a garbage heap. How had she endured this during four years of slavery?
When her feet issued a steady complaint against gravity, Tracy wandered into the nearest restaurant. One of the cheaper ones that backed up against the station’s core, rather than offering windows to the local asteroid belt. She headed toward the rear, where potted palms separated cushy seating. Her gaze snagged on a child, who snatched food from a waste bin then darted into a cranny behind a bulky chair. Tracy followed. The child’s painful hunger and dread tugged at her heart.
It would do no good to draw him from hiding, but there was another way. Tracy settled into the over-stuffed chair that concealed him, then selected an order for two from the menu embedded in the table. Behind her, the child thought of holding perfectly still, lest he be discovered. That, and the meager scrap he had gulped down.
Tracy drew her focus inward to rest for a few minutes. A servobot delivered her order, pivoted in place, and whirred back to the kitchen. After confirming that no one watched, she placed a meal container on the floor beside her and pushed it backwards.
Was that whispering she caught? Were there two children behind her chair? She read thoughts again. No, only one. Perhaps surprise had made him utter something. Now he was reaching out to stealthily draw the container into his cranny. His hunger and joy at such bounty tore at her. She drew her focus inward again. Better get all this frustrated compassion under control before she did something stupid.
Working through the afternoon drove the boy from her mind. She returned to the transport and swapped information with Vigard over dinner. “I didn’t really find out much,” she said. “Other than spotting a starved child stealing food from the trash.”
“Seen that before.” He took a sip of water. “I followed an urchin once. He led me into a nether land of ventilation ducts, piping, and all sorts of equipment.”
“What did you discover?”
“Nothing. He lost me in no time. Besides, I didn’t want to go too far and exit through the wrong door. Those internal areas are restricted-access, so they’re not on the public holo-maps. It’s easy to get turned around. Kids are great sources, though, if you stay unobtrusive. I’ve picked up some good leads by reading them.”
“I suppose.” Tracy chewed her last bite, now tasteless. She had missed an opportunity.
Vigard stood and picked up their dishes. “If you’re ready for more snooping, we could pretend to be a couple and go up to the casino. There’s only one on this station. Not that big, but the view is incredible.”
“Sure. How does the Syndicate make money here?”
“Mostly mining transfer facilities. Which leads to financial transactions through the Syndicates banking system. Did I mention fuel for the freighters?”
Ah, fuel. He always complained about the Syndicate’s exorbitant prices. “Still,” she said, “it seems odd that they wouldn’t capitalize on gambling along with everything else.”
Vigard smirked. “Your academic cultural sources are incomplete. Some races love gambling. Others think it’s insane. The Syndicate is all about making money. They’re smart enough to follow its native flows.”
They had several hours to fill the next day before their Raoulf passengers were due back. She and Vigard separated again, and Tracy returned to the shopping halls, determined to notice any children. Not an easy task.
Why? People lived here. There had to be children. She lingered at the railing over a courtyard. The flora of some unknown planet climbed a fake hill below her. Pretty, but she really studied the station’s holo-map in her mind’s eye. Her photographic memory came in handy.
Ah. A level bore the label family housing. But she had no reason to go there—probably no starving waifs there anyway. Pointless. Might as well try the restaurant where she’d eaten yesterday. She located it on the holo-map and then noticed a tiny designation that seemed to mark nothing—K239. The letters were within a few meters of where she’d eaten. Strange.
Tracy hurried past shops until the restaurant came into view. The oversized chair she had used was empty, so she claimed it again. Pretending to deliberate over the menu, she read thoughts. No kids. She ordered two meals anyway, then pushed her food around the container more than she ate. Was she wasting her time? For all she knew, the boy had dozens of places to scavenge.
Then she sensed him. He was peering down a sheltered aisle through the crack of a door. Checking if the coast was clear. He turned to whisper over his shoulder, and Tracy’s heart leapt. The person he addressed leaked no thoughts.
Was it possible?
Tracy followed his view as he darted down the aisle and snuck into position behind her chair. He paused to glance at his companion, who squatted next to him, clutching a hooded cloak around her, like those the Moordilka women favored. Tracy barely perceived shadowed eyes peering from the child-sized hood, before the boy looked away.
That hooded figure leaked not a single thought. Tracy nibbled her bread and read the boy. He saw a food container fall into the trash. His mouth watered and he poised to dart out, waiting…waiting for a signal. It came as a poke in the back of his shoulder. He darted out, certain no one watched. The girl must be reading thoughts to determine if anyone looked their way.
The boy snatched the food then spun to return. His eyes widened, and his face paled as he saw Tracy in the chair. She kept her gaze high and partially averted. He hesitated only a second before he dove back into his hiding place.
His frantic whisper reached her, more via thought than sound. “Someone’s in the chair. I think she saw me. We gotta get outa here!”
Tracy put her food containers in a shopping bag and stood. Yep, they were moving. Back the way they came. Soft tapping reached her straining ears. She checked the room to make sure no one noticed, then followed. Behind the chair and palm, lay a short hallway, which led to a door. She stopped it an instant before it closed. It had no outer handle—only a lock. She ducked inside, checked for an inner handle, then closed it behind her.
She still only sensed the boy as he fled. “Wait. I won’t hurt you. Don’t run!”
Her voice hissed in the silence. A single pair of sprinting footsteps clanged on the metal walkway, his thoughts lost in the distance. He was beyond reach, but what had become of the hooded child? Was she still near? So many hiding places.
Tracy braced herself against a beam of the superstructure and leaned to peer between ducts and thick bunches of cables. Widely-spaced lights cast a harsh glow. Did anyone hide in the shadows? She took a few steps then turned, sweeping her gaze with slow precision, committing the labyrinth to memory. Black symbols labeled the door through which she had entered—K239. This place was navigable to any who knew the numbering scheme.
Tracy tried a gentle tone. “Please don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I have food for you—and some clothes.”
Was that a movement she heard off to the left? She ventured farther, wanting to say more but worried about who else might hear. Behind her, a door opened and closed.
Heavy footsteps and a deep voice echoed. “Come on. It’s over this way.” The footfalls approached.
Tracy’s lungs seized. She spun back to the door. A movement in a narrow gap stopped her. A pair of eyes—adult height—stared into hers. Then a hand reached out and pulled her through the gap into a shadowed alcove about three meters long.
Tracy pressed into darkness and froze, as still and silent as the woman and child hiding there. Not a single thought leaked from either of them.
Footsteps drew near. The men had some task in mind, but to Tracy’s relief, they were merely taking a back route to reach it. Another door banged, then silence returned. Tracy dared to breathe again.
“Who are you?” the woman whispered.
“My name is Tracy. I used to be a slave on another station.” She pulled the food containers from her bag. “I’ve partnered with the man who rescued me, and we try to rescue other Riveltians.”
The child reached skinny hands from the folds of her cloak, grabbed the containers, and dropped to the floor. “Mama, look how much!”
The woman followed the food almost as urgently as her daughter. Tracy sat down cross-legged and gave them time to eat. Her eyes adjusted to the shadows, as they gobbled up the meals. The woman wore a thread-bare shirt and baggy slacks but didn’t need a cloak, for her facial markings had been removed. Sunken cheeks, bony hands. Tracy had never seen anyone so emaciated. How could they function?
The woman swept her ragged hair aside. “Thank you!” she said, keeping her voice hushed.
“You’re welcome,” Tracy said, speaking no louder than she. “What’s your name?”
“Adeline Murray.” She smoothed a hand over her child’s fair hair. “This is Hope.”
Dilated blue eyes peered over the edge of the disposable dish Hope licked. It covered most of the thought-reader markings on her face. Before Hope lowered the container, she drew her cloak’s hood forward.
Poor child, raised in fear of being seen. Tracy took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time. I’ll help you escape, but I need all the information you can give me.”
Adeline was already shaking her head. “I can’t escape. I have a brain chip.”
Tracy’s stomach lurched.
“It notifies my handler of my position every time I get near a sensor. It sends a pain surge down my spine, too.” She glanced away from Tracy, her voice even quieter. “There’s not many sensors back here in the guts of the station, and I know where they are. I haven’t hit one in years, but if I go into the common areas, I’m sure to trigger them. A few jolts, and I can’t even walk. He’ll find me—or the Syndicate watchers will.”
Her voice trailed off. Tracy gripped her hand. No words could alleviate the terror this woman lived with. Worse yet, there was no way to fool automated sensors.
Adeline drew a strained breath. “Hope doesn’t have a brain chip.”
Tracy jerked her gaze back to Adeline’s face. What was she saying?
“I got away from my handler before he knew I was pregnant. No one out there knows she exists. She’s small for her age. She knows how to stay covered and keep quiet—how to pretend she can’t read thoughts yet. Do you think…is it possible…could you smuggle her away from here?”
Tracy envisioned walking a child—who hid her face—through the shopping halls, the elevators, and the long dock corridors. Every hair on her body lifted. If even one person asked to see her face—Terrifying! But this mother was willing to part from her daughter, perhaps forever, to get her to safety. How could she say no?
“Mama,” Hope said, standing and wrapping her arms around her mother. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Adeline embraced her. Though she snuggled Hope’s head against her shoulder, her eyes locked on Tracy—waiting.
“Can we reach the docking levels without leaving the interior?” Tracy asked.
“Yes.” Adeline’s voice broke, perhaps an echo of her heart.
Tracy focused on the holo-map in her mind, found her transport’s dock number, and then the two nearest labels for the interior. “Can you get us to V127?”
Adeline nodded, compressing her lips.
“Mama, I don’t wanna go.”
“I know, my darling.” Adeline slipped her hands within the hood to touch Hope’s cheeks. “I will miss you, too, but if you stay here, we’ll eventually be separated—and it will be far worse. We have family on Rivelt. They will take care of you. And even though I will miss you, I will be happy knowing that you are finally safe.” She wiped tears from Hope’s cheek. “Stop crying now. You must do as I say.”
Apparently, Hope knew that tone, for she straightened and clamped her lips.
“Hope,” Tracy said, “the only way this can work is if you do exactly what I tell you.”
Hope stared at her.
“I will carry you, and you will lay your head on my shoulder, letting the hood cover your face. I’ll avoid speaking to anyone until I’m in my transport. If necessary, I will say that your mother has recently died, and that I have contracted to take you to Earth. Or to Rivelt if anyone should see your markings. If someone tries to talk to you, whimper and turn your face against my shoulder. Can you do that?”
Hope sobbed and drove her face into her mother’s shoulder. The floppy hood covered incriminating blue.
“Yes,” Tracy said, “that’s exactly how you should do it. How old are you?”
“Seven.”
Plainly a lie, but it fit her height. “Can you read thoughts yet?”
“Course not,” Hope said. Her tone hinted that the question was stupid.
Another well executed lie. Tracy forced a confident smile. “You can do this.”
Hope clamped her lips and glowered.
“Time to get moving.” Tracy helped Adeline to her feet, and Hope clung to her mother’s hand. Tracy extended her focus as wide as possible but sensed no one. Well, she had a plan. Her stomach knotted as she tried to predict Vigard’s reaction. If only she could let him know. Nothing she could do about that. Messages could be accessed, and the Syndicate pried into everything. Besides, she’d get Hope into the transport’s medical berth before their passengers returned. They wouldn’t know a thing.
“All right,” Tracy said. “Let’s get to the elevators.”
Adeline sucked in a breath.
“There are elevators in the interior, aren’t there?”
“Yes, one, but it has sensors on every level. I use the ladders.”
“Oh. Then we’ll climb down. Let’s go.”
The ladders slowed them, but not nearly as much as the convoluted route Adeline took to avoid sensors.
They reached the V127 designator and found a humming equipment panel instead of a door. Tracy longed to scream.
Adeline tugged on her arm. “Maybe the next one.” They hurried on.
V128 marked a door. Tracy exhaled audibly. She leaned against the bare metal and extended her focus beyond it. A couple people lingered outside. Not good.
Adeline knelt to give Hope one last hug. Her mouth contorted as tears seeped between pinched eyelids. She swallowed and calmed her face before meeting Hope’s gaze again.
“Mama, I still don’t want to leave you.”
Adeline opened her mouth, but Tracy spoke first. “We will come back for her.” Tracy swung her shopping bag from her shoulder to Adeline. “I’m not positive when. Are you usually near K239?”
Adeline shook her head. “I move all the time.”
“Pick some locations that you can return to frequently. I’ll remember them and search for you there.” Tracy listened and repeated the numbers Adeline whispered, then she pulled the bereaved mother into a quick embrace. “My partner’s name is Vigard. Either one of us may come for you.”
“But the brain chip?”
“I’m kind of new at this, so I don’t know how to deal with that, but Vigard probably does. It might take us a month or more to return. Don’t give up.”
Adeline nodded, though her chin trembled.
“The people out there are moving away. Come here, Hope.” Tracy felt the child’s ribs as she lifted her.
Hope clutched bony legs against Tracy’s waist. Adeline adjusted Hope’s robe and hood, then opened the door.
Tracy passed through and strode down the corridor as the door clicked shut. At least this final walk wouldn’t be as long as the others she had endured. Only a minute to her dock’s airlock. She shifted Hope’s weight to one arm and keyed in the access code.
The door slid open, and Tracy stepped through into the lounge. Then her heart thudded. All three of the Raoulf passengers were already there. Vigard’s eyebrows rose.
“I picked up an extra transport contract, Captain,” Tracy said, keeping her tone casual.
Mr. Jurin’s eyes widened. “A child?”
“An orphan, in fact, who needs transport to her mother’s family. She’s having a hard time of it, so I’ll just take her to the back.” Tracy turned as she spoke and tripped over luggage.
Mr. Jurin darted forward to break their fall, but Hope landed on her rear. The hood flopped to her shoulders.
He gasped, jumping away. “It’s a thought-reader!”
Appalled shock burst from the passengers’ minds. Tracy felt as battered as if she had crashed on the deck. She straightened herself and drew Hope to her side with a steady hand. “No, she’s only seven. It’ll be years before she’s able to read thoughts.”
Vigard’s voice reached a bass pitch Tracy had never heard. His slow words vibrated. “Have you utterly lost your mind?”
She met his eyes and licked her lips. “We’re to drop her off at Rivelt after our initial passengers disembark on Rao. She will stay in the medical berth until then, for she needs care. I’m sorry I couldn’t get your permission first, Captain, but she is orphaned and starving.”
His clamped lips whitened.
“What would you have me do now?” she asked.
