Tanderon (10 page)

“Thanks a lot,” I told the side of her face, all interest in arguing now completely gone. “Did you really think I’d put you away permanently for something like that? I may not have much of what people call conscience, but I’m not ready for ward K

yet. I do have some sense of discrimination.”

Jane’s head was down as she stared at her now motionless hands, having paled when I mentioned ward K. It was possible she hadn’t worked in that section during her five years at Blue Skies, but she still had to know about it. The special Federation hospital near the training facilities was known as Blue Skies, and everyone in the place was aware of ward K. It was the ward where good little agents were put when they started to issue and execute death warrants on their own. I’d visited the ward a couple of times, all agents are required to go at least once, but I’d rather have another session with Val and his hairbrush than have to go back again. The place hits too close to home…

Jane blushed over my question, then raised her head to look straight at me again.

“I’m sorry, Jenny, I had no right to think that about you,” she apologized. “You’re a rotten patient, but you’ve never been anything but decent to me.”

I had to smile at the name she’d used, remembering the cover identity I’d had for Xanadu. I would have corrected her sooner, but all she’d ever called me was “Red.”

“I guess you haven’t gotten the word yet,” I told her. “My name isn’t Jenny, it’s Diana. Diana Santee.”

She blinked in surprise, then knitted her brows into a frown. “I know that name,” she said, putting a finger to her lips. “The time that Pedderson escaped from ward K.

Weren’t you the one who – ”

“Who went after him?” I finished when her words ended rather abruptly, remembering the time so clearly I could almost touch it. “Yes, that was me, but I couldn’t bring him back. He was so far gone I had to end it.”

I knew Jane was sitting beside me, but all I could see was that day not long enough ago, a Tanderon day filled with running clouds in the sky and blowing dust on the nearly dead ground. I’d caught up to Pedderson in the middle of a wheat field, one which had probably been growing much too long but still wasn’t as tall as it should have been.

Pedderson had stopped running and was sitting in the middle of a bald patch in the wheat field, dry brown stalks all around him framing him like a work of art in his aqua blue hospital suit. He was a man of average size, sandy hair going thin over a long, straight nose, slender hands, light eyes.

His last assignment had been a rough one, rougher than anyone had known. He’d spent three months in a hospital bed, and two days after he was discharged he was found standing over the bodies of four self-styled tough guys who had tried to jostle him just for the fun of it. Pedderson had been crying, sobbing out to everyone in earshot that the four had tried to hurt him, but the dead men had been unarmed.

Pedderson had finished them with a disruptor, scattering them around like so much garbage.

It had taken him a long time in ward K to stop crying, but he was dry-eyed that day in the wheat field, sitting with his arms around his drawn up legs. He leaned his chin on his knees and looked up at the sky, and didn’t move a muscle when I stopped six feet away from him.

“Hello, Diana,” he’d said, not even looking in my direction. “I was hoping they’d send someone like you.”

“Let’s go back, Mark,” I’d said, not letting any of the pity show in my voice. “If you give them a chance they can help you.”

“They already have helped me,” he whispered, closing his eyes and burying his face against his knees. “God, I wish they’d never even tried!”

“Mark, just come back with me,” I’d repeated, not knowing what else to say. The blowing dust was all over both of us, and I could see it going down his collar the same way it went down mine.

“Diana, I can’t face it any longer,” he’d said, the words muffled against his legs. “I can’t stand being locked away, but I’ll do it again if they turn me loose. I try and I try, but I just can’t help it. I’ll do it again just the way I did it the first time.”

He’d raised his head then and looked at my face, and his eyes were so light against his dirt-darkened skin. He stared at me for a long time, then nodded his head as if I’d spoken.

“You’ll do it,” he’d whispered, still nodding his head. “You’ll take that gun holstered at your hip and you’ll end the torment for me. I’ll be freed from that ward, from their help, from my fear – and from the memories. Please, Diana, get me out of this. You know I’d do the same for you.”

His voice was ragged, unsure, talking himself into something he wanted desperately to believe. I licked dust off my lips, seeing him as he’d been when we’d worked together once, laughing and not giving a damn about what we were walking into. He cared now, though, more than he should, but it was more than his life that he’d lost.

He stirred and got to his feet slowly, backing away just a little as though he were afraid of chasing me away. I wanted to laugh at that, the idea was so ludicrous, but the dust was in my mouth and clogging up my throat.

“Diana, please,” he’d begged, holding his hands out to me. “You know I’d do the same for you.”

I drew the blaster slowly, the grip rough but familiar against my hand, the action even more familiar. Mark had been a Special Agent too, a brother, and I couldn’t refuse him.

“Goodbye, Mark,” I’d whispered, raising the blaster toward him. “See you in Valhalla.”

“I’ll save you a seat, doll,” he’d answered with a grin, the old Mark back again, and then he’d charged straight toward me with a yell. To this day I don’t remember pulling that trigger, but Mark had known what he was doing. He took no more than two steps toward me before he was blown backward by the weapon in my hand, a hole burned through him big enough to see the ground behind him.

His last gesture had been to give me an official reason for shooting him, and that’s the way I’d reported it, with a lie, but there wasn’t a Special Agent who didn’t know the truth. We all know we might need the same help some day, and it’s comforting to know it’s there.

“That poor man,” Jane sighed, filling the place in front of my eyes again. Then she cocked her head to one side and looked at me curiously. “But I somehow had the impression that you were older.”

“I’m getting older every day, just not in the right way,” I said, taking a deep breath and then trying a wry smile. “How about making up for your unkind thoughts by helping me break out of here?”

“You’re impossible,” she replied with a snort, looking me over as if I were something beyond belief. “You’re probably still not entirely over what you got for your last try, but that’s not keeping you from talking about trying again. Why don’t you ask me to do something easier, like assassinating the entire Council.”

“I’ll take it,” I said promptly, pointing a finger at her. “If they weren’t so agreeable where Ringer is concerned, I wouldn’t be facing a cadet’s life now.”

“What’s so terrible about that?” she asked, glancing at me as she arranged her things on the bed beside her. “I met many cadets there at the hospital, and they didn’t seem to be suffering.”

“You’re thinking of School 2 trainees,” I told her, watching her hands put things where they belonged automatically. “Ringer and the Council are talking about School 1. School 1 cadets never get to Blue Skies; they’re too busy being rousted. I thought you might know about that.”

“No,” she said with some interest, her hands stopping again. “I never heard anything about it.”

“Well, seeing that you’re one of the family I guess I can tell you,” I decided aloud.

“The story is simple and easy and starts from one basic question: How do you find enough agents for jobs like mine? The main answer: School 1.

“Every kid too wild for other schools to handle, every person from every planet who wants to do any kind of governmental work, everyone who wants to do anything public, has to go through a standard year of School 1. After they finish that they’re free to go on to whatever else they like, but that year at School 1 is the roughest they’ll face because it’s designed for one purpose – to flush potential agents.”

She raised her brows at that, but for some reason I had the feeling she already knew everything about the situation. She may have decided to listen to it all again just to give me someone other than an opponent to talk to, and if so I wasn’t about to argue. Once she left, all friendly conversation would go with her.

So I continued, “It’s been found that the sort of mind that can accept extreme regimentation can never make a successful agent – and for ‘successful’ you can read

‘live.’ The regimentation-friendly mind isn’t flexible enough when the going gets heavy. So they do everything they can to make School 1 the most revolting of military academies, tell everyone who comes that they can’t leave before the standard year is up, then watch to see who tries to break out.

“Only the top brass knows about this, and the one who jumps in the right direction is recruited and immediately transferred to School 2 and a normal life. They don’t always make it, but they have a lot better chance than someone who just grits his teeth and takes it. And that’s the lovely vacation the Council is trying to send me on, but this time I won’t be allowed to cut out. I’ll just have to sit there and suffer.”

“You said ‘this time,’” she mused, a hand to her throat again. “How long did you stay the first time?”

I sighed. “Twelve long, horrible, miserable, stinking days. But I was young and eager then, and had more patience than I do now.”

“Ouch!” she said, wincing with the word. “I guess you really are in for it. Would it help if I brought you a file?”

I looked at the chain attached to my ankle and grimaced at it.

“I’m tempted,” I muttered, seriously considering the idea. “I really am tempted. Of course, Ringer promised to shoot me in the knee if he finds this chain off. The way he’s feeling now he isn’t kidding, but if you think you can get a file in here I’ll tell you what kind I need. It has to be a – ”

“Forget it!” she interrupted sharply, shaking her head hard enough to dislodge the idea. “You people play too rough for me! Let me get at those wrists and go back to the emergency room where it’s nice and quiet.”

She really did seem more than a little nervous, so I decided not to try convincing her and just offered my right wrist. She took my hand with relief and began to cut away the bandage, but when she finished and saw the wrist she looked up at me with her mouth open. I’d been holding my breath until the bandage was off, but the skin hadn’t stuck to it too badly and the pain was at a bearable level. I wiped at the sweat on my upper lip – which was more from anticipation than anything else – and met Jane’s now outraged stare.

“Well, you don’t think I took it without a struggle, do you?” I demanded. I’d been trying to match her outrage, but the question sounded defensive even to me. So I gave up on the outrage with a shrug and added, “Val’s not the gentlest soul I’ve ever met, and he was mad enough to pull down walls. From the way the wrist felt I thought the damage was a lot worse than it is.”

“It’s bad enough,” she muttered, losing her own outrage as she looked at the wreckage again. “How’s the other one?”

“They’re a matched set,” I admitted. “It’s so gauche any other way.”

She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head, then opened them again to pin me with another stare.

“I’ll bet any amount you name that you never said a word to him,” she stated, knowing I’d know who “him” was. “Do we have a bet?”

“Don’t be so smart,” I grumbled, then saw she was adding up to the wrong conclusions. “And get that look out of your eye. I didn’t say anything to begin with because I was too busy screaming, but just give me some time. I love to make Val feel guilty.”

She kept her eyes on me for a minute, muttered “Sure,” under her breath, then went into her bag for what she obviously hadn’t thought she’d need. I had the feeling I ought to pursue her mutterings, but there wasn’t much to say in a situation like that.

If I told her my relationship with Val consisted of nothing more than work and sex, she’d never believe it.

People always have to inject romance when a male and a female are involved, or the whole fabric of their very existence begins to dissolve. To say that the life of a Special Agent doesn’t come equipped with a niche for the niceties would be to tarnish our public image, and never let it be said that I’d tarnish an image. I winced a little at the sting of the spray she used on me, and applied some self-control to my tongue.

When my second wrist had been sprayed and rebandaged, Jane gathered the debris together and put it all back in her bag. She looked around to make sure she had everything, then stood up just as I already had. She looked faintly amused as her gaze moved over me, and I realized she’d never seen me out of bed and standing up before. She wasn’t a small woman, but I stood at least a head taller than she did.

From the amusement in her expression, I supposed she must have been remembering all the times she’d pushed me around without regretting it.

“Let me give you a friendly tip,” she said at last, taking a tighter grip on her bag.

“The next time, wear wrist bands. They’ll save a lot of wear and tear, not to mention salve and spray.”

“There won’t be a next time,” I assured her, fiddling with the left bandage to make it more comfortable. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

She was at the door when she turned to grin at me. “How much did you have to say about it this time?” she asked. Then she left.

I stood there for a minute, staring glumly at the door. I hated to admit it, but she had a point.

The rest of the day went just the way the early part had gone, with Val and Ringer out in the sitting room doing whatever they were doing, and me closed into the bedroom with my murder mystery. Finding out who the murderer was turned out to be a surprise, but not because the thing was that well written. My mind insisted on wandering around all over the place, and every time I came back to the book I found I’d missed another clue.