Psion (24 page)

Until finally the truth burst into my mind: “Dere- you’re a Corpse?”

He slumped forward. The tension that had been rising for months drained out of him at last, and only a dull weariness was left in his mind. “So it does show.”

“You wanted me to do it-
“ It
was half an apology and half a challenge.

He nodded, still hunched forward.

“Why? I mean-you, a Corpse? You said you were just a corporate telepath.”

“And every one of you believed me. Jule and Ardan still believe it-for their own good. What I told you wasn’t a lie; it just was not the whole truth. I do work for the Seleusid combine. But I’m part of their security force, their private army.” Pride glittered in the words, but pride was cutting him up inside; and everything I knew about what it had cost him to get where he was and stay there was still true. He was still a paid snitch, used by deadheads who would never understand.

“How’d you get involved in this? Somebody order you to do it?”

“It was my idea. The FTA needed to know how to deal with psions, so they asked one. And I told them it would take psions to stop psions. I thought it would give us a chance to show them that we can be loyal, useful, productive citizens-“

“How many Hydrans have you helped Seleusid kick off
their own
worlds, Dere?”

He looked up at me then, his hazel eyes green with anger; but he looked away again. I didn’t try to find out what he had to be ashamed of.

“Nothing,” he said. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

(But you got plenty to be afraid of.) If the rest of us thought we had a lot to hide from Rubiy, it was nothing compared to what was in Dere’s mind. And he wasn’t much more of a telepath than I used to be. “What did you think you were gonna do once you’d got in with Rubiy? What are we gonna do? You got any plans?”

I didn’t think his face could get any grimmer, but it did. “Rubiy is a professional. He made sure we were completely isolated before we got to Cinder. There’s been no way to get a message out, because there’s always someone listening. Even when you can’t see them, you can feel them. . . .” His fists clenched. “But the mines or the FTA have to be warned, somehow-and it has to be soon, before Rubiy comes back.”

“You know what he’s planning to do?”

The hazel eyes sharpened, for a minute he wasn’t sure about me. . . . But then his mind loosened again, and he shook his head.

“Why should you trust me?” I said, realizing that he did. “Nobody else does.”

He shrugged.
“Because I don’t have any choice, now.
And because Jule trusts you.
Like her, I think that if you were going to betray us, it would already have happened. . . . All I know is that you’re supposed to be the long-awaited key to help them get into the mines.”

“How?”
I pulled my legs up under me.

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“They didn’t show me
no
secret passages while I was in there, if that’s what you mean.” The muscles in my back were pulling tight again. “Galiess won’t talk till Rubiy gets
back,
and she ain’t given me a real chance to read her, if she even knows.”

“Whatever it is, they seem to be sure it’ll work this time. God knows what demands they’ll make on the Federation.”

(And God knows what’ll happen to us. That’s the worst part, ain’t it? You know that if I can read your secret, so can Rubiy. Once he comes back your life isn’t worth a damn, if you can’t stop his plans first; maybe all our lives-)

“Stop it, for God’s sake!” For a minute I thought he was going to hit me. “I’m sorry”-he took a deep breath-“but don’t answer questions for me before you even ask them!”

I almost laughed. “Bet you never figured you’d be saying that to me.” And I realized how much I’d begun to depend on my Gift; as if I’d grown another eye to see with, another ear.

Half a grin grew on his face. He fumbled for another camph and put it in his mouth. “That’s for damn sure. My star pupil. . . .” His voice trailed. He handed me another camph.

I took the camph, balancing it between my fingers. Then I said, as gently as I knew how, “Dere, Rubiy’s already back.”

He froze.
“When?
How long?”

“Since last night.”

“God . . .” he said. Suddenly his
eyes unfocused; I felt circuits opening and closing in his brain, but what happened then was
nothing my own mind could understand. He let out a cry, like something had torn him apart inside.

I jerked back, not knowing what was happening to him.
Rubiy?
But we were alone, even inside our minds; I was sure of it.
“Dere?”
I put out my hand, brushing his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He shuddered; I pulled my hand away. He wiped his mouth. “I . . . I had a sending.”

A
sending .
 
.
 
.
precognition
. I’d almost forgotten that he was anything besides a telepath.
“About what?”
His mind was jumbled with shock, I couldn’t read him.

“About death.
My death.
Rubiy . . .” His voice was weak and stumbling. “It’s too late.”

“No, it ain’t. You’re just scared it will be; it ain’t sure. That’s the wildcard talent, you said it yourself.”

But he shook his head, glaring his anger at me. “Not this time. It’s in every image.
Every one.
And so is Rubiy. And so are you. . . .”

“Me?” I pushed up on my knees.
“I ain’t done nothin’ to you.
I ain’t going to, I swear.” (I swear it!)

He climbed to his feet, every movement belonging to a dead man. “I know. I’m sorry,” he said thickly. “I need some time alone now.” He stumbled on up the hill, not looking back. His flickering shadow trailed him like the darkness in his mind.

I sat where I was, alone inside my own darkness, until the sky started to darken to match it. I got up then, stiff and numb, and started back down the hill alone.

(Hello, Cat.)

The sudden voice inside my head turned me around on the slope. I lost my balance and someone’s hands caught me from behind, steadying me.
Rubiy’s.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone. You’re hardly steady on your feet.” Rubiy smiled, but only with his mouth. I hadn’t forgotten that smile, or anything about his face. I looked into his ice-green eyes, and saw the bottomless green of a crevasse: shining, shadowy, deadly. His hands were still on my shoulders, holding me like the talons of a hunting bird would hold some poor squirming thing it had trapped in the night. I knew the feel of hands like that. . . . I jerked loose with all my strength, staggering back.

“Did I frighten you?” He held out his empty hands to me, amused. He wasn’t dressed for a walk outside, but he didn’t seem to feel the cold.

I swallowed.
“Takes-more’n a ‘hello’ to do that.”
The shock had knocked everything I’d been thinking a minute ago out of my head; I was glad. “I wasn’t alone. I was with Cortelyou.”

“I know,” he said.

I didn’t flinch. I kept my mind woven tight, with just enough ends dangling loose to make it seem like I wasn’t trying to hide something. “He’s still up there.”

I pointed with my chin. “I got tired,” answering him before he asked.

He liked that; his face almost looked human. “You’re old friends, I take it.” There was something lying between the words that I didn’t like.

“Yeah.
I guess so.” I rubbed my neck.

“I was pleased to learn that you were strong enough to go walking. Your recovery strengthens my trust in Siebeling and his skills.”

“Yeah, he’s all heart.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

I shrugged. “Should I be?” I showed him that I knew how he’d tried the doors of my mind last night-and set off alarms.

He played with a smile again. “The telepath you were when I last saw you wouldn’t have known. But I’m told the Hydrans did what those fools on Ardattee couldn’t do for you. You’re good; Galiess was right. You’re even better than Galiess, in fact. . . . How good are you, now?” He threw it at me like a challenge, sparking with excitement, eagerness, hope-a dark glint of envy-dying to take my measure. That was why he was out here, why we were here alone.

I shied back from the first real contact I’d had with his emotions, the first proof that he even had any. “I-dunno. Good enough, I guess.” It sounded dumb and sullen. I pushed my hands into my pockets and shifted my weight from foot to foot. My mind left his challenge lying in the air between us.

(Didn’t I tell you so?)
his
mind said. He smoothed a strand of dark hair the wind had loosened. “False modesty doesn’t appeal to me. But loyalty does. After the ordeal you went through, I would imagine you’re ready to do anything you have to to help us take control of Federation Mining.”

I nodded. “You made sure of that,” taking a chance.

He
shrugged,
an easy twitch of his shoulders. “Siebeling made sure of that-in his clumsy, backhanded way. I merely made use of an opportunity.” His thoughts were as cold as his eyes.

And a warm body.
My hands flexed inside my gloves. “So now I got something you can use. Why am I so important, what’s the deal?” I had to ask it, not really expecting him to answer.

But he said, “Until now we’ve been missing the key to get us into the mines compound. We’d been able to come this far, to reach the world and establish ourselves in the very town. But the identity screens at the mines are too rigid, and the security checks on their actual personnel are too complete. We couldn’t get any further. We can’t walk in, and we can’t teleport in-you can’t teleport to a place you’ve never been.” The muscles in his cheek tightened with his jaw; for a second I felt his long months of frustration. “But you have been inside, now; thanks to Contract Labor. So we are able to manipulate them from a direction they never anticipated.”

(Up through the sewers,) I thought. I realized he still hadn’t answered my question.

(Exactly.)
Cool laughter slipped into my mind.

“But I can’t teleport-I can’t get back into the mines. So what good’s that gonna do you?” I felt a kind of relief as I said it, because I didn’t see how-

My hand jerked out of my pocket with a sudden twist; but I hadn’t done it, and he hadn’t touched me. . . .
Telekinesis.
He had my wrist hung in front of my eyes, showing me the bond tag. “You can go back any time you want to.”

I was still a bondie. All I had to do was let someone know it. “But . . .” fighting to keep control of my voice, “but, I mean, so I’m back inside. I can’t get out again. You’re still outside. What good’s that gonna do!”

(Cat.) His hand reached out and stroked my arm. His mind made soothing waves, but that didn’t ease anything. And then I felt another whisper of real emotion, an echo of the images he’d shown me back in Quarro, telling me, (he understood, I could trust him, he’d been where I’d been, he knew what I’d been through; we were the same. . . .) “It isn’t forever.
Only a day or so.
That’s all I’ll need, all I want from you. And then you’ll be free again, and the Federation will be in our hands-
“ The
energy of his vision crackled between us. “You can make a joining; you’ve made one before.” It wasn’t really a question; he knew about the Hydrans. He felt me acknowledge it, and then at last he began to show me his plan.

I was going to turn myself in, and they’d take me back to the mines. Once I was there Rubiy would make a joining with me, and use me as a fix to teleport himself into the mines. He knew the layout and he’d sabotage the ventilating system with gas, leaving them all unconscious, and the mines wide open for the rest of his psions to come in and take it over. Once they were in charge of the mines compound, they’d also be in control of the energy shield that protected Cinder from any direct attack as well as from radiation-an invisible wall of electromagnetic force out in space around us. And then we’d be in the control seat, holding the Federation’s most important resource for ransom. The combines who’d hired him to do this, to attack the FTA at its heart, thought he was doing it for them; but they were wrong. . . .

His mind shut me out again, as if suddenly he felt like he’d shown me enough, or maybe too much.

I shook my head. “It-all sounds so easy.” So easy it scared me.

“It is; now that we have you.”

“I thought . . . I heard it ain’t that easy to make a joining-not for humans.”

“Not for the average human psion. We are not average, you and I. You had no trouble joining with the Hydrans.”

“I didn’t even have a choice, with them. But I thought there had to be a-a need,”

“I have a need-the need to see this plan work! And when the time comes, you’ll find you have enough need to see the mines under our thumb. . . .” The promise in his voice made me feel worse than I already did.

“Why do we have to make a joining at all? Why can’t I do what you want, there?”