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10

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What was all that meaningless twaddle in aid of? I could understand it with Deron, but that was our one chance to learn something significant from Saroyan!’ I’m ready to explode after all the pent-up nervous tension and my tenuous grasp of protocol collapses completely.

Hannik keeps a firm grip on my arm until we’re well clear of the palace, telling me to shut up until sure we’re not followed. We head back to Neski’s house through twisting side streets.

‘We found out plenty. Saroyan is effectively a prisoner in her own palace, she has vital information to pass on and there are ears everywhere.’

‘How d’you figure that out?’

‘First warning; she said she would have sent an air-shuttle for me. She knows perfectly well I wouldn’t use it. It’s bad enough on the train! Too fast to stay aligned with the enormous frequency-shift over that distance, but sometimes needs must. But air-shuttles? Ugh. Another day at least before I could pick up the resonance again. Like being blind and deaf. Too dangerous in current circumstances.’

‘So how is a polite little tea-party going to help you exchange information? Deron’s bound to be lurking like a predatory river-eel listening to every word!’

Hannik checks over her shoulder for the tenth time but it seems no one’s following.

‘I suspect Deron has his own agenda running alongside whatever else is happening. Did you notice Saroyan rubbing her earlobe when she made the tea invitation?’

‘Erm, no. Maybe we need spy training at the faculty. I’m too new at this stuff.’

‘I suspect she has a listening capsule implanted there. Everything she says or hears is being monitored.’

‘You sure? Maybe she got bitten by a sea-mosquito yesterday.’

‘I was sure by the end of the conversation. She’s always known what kind of tea I like. But there are two types of ayan. One makes the pleasant drink that stops you falling asleep. The one I’m sure you students use far too much when you party all night and still make it to class the next day.’

I give a non-committal grunt. It’s a bit unfair for teachers to remember too much about their own student days. It means they can guess more than is comfortable about what goes on at the faculty outside scheduled hours.

‘You can stop looking guilty. We’re not in Kar now.’ Hannik’s tone is brisk. ‘The other, concentrated form of ayan is known only to a few Webdancers nowadays. It was outlawed several generations ago because although it has remarkable properties, it caused too many fatalities.’

‘And she’s got it on the menu? No thanks!’

‘I doubt she could keep something like that secret in the palace the way things are now. Saroyan is one of the few Webdancers who can communicate through lietan, inner mind-connection. I can’t. Not unless I use ayan concentrate and accept that the need for information is worth burning out a few layers of synapses.’

I make the sort of rude comment under my breath I wouldn’t have dreamed of uttering in the presence of a Webdancer a few days ago. Hannik either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care.

Back at Neski’s house the door opens at the first knock.

*

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‘OH, HANNIK. YOU SURE this is the only way?’ Neski takes a vial of dark liquid from the herb cupboard. ‘Even if it doesn’t kill you, it’ll damage your abilities. And if does kill you, it’s slow and painful.’

Hannik sighs impatiently. ‘If you think of a better way, tell me in the next five minutes. I need time to get the ayan into my system before I’m due to meet Saroyan.’

Neski raises her hands in resignation and pours the contents into a glass of water.

I intercept it.

‘If I’m the one with truthseer potential, could I do this with far less ayan?’

Hannik holds out a demanding hand. ‘Quite possibly. But with no training in lietan-connection and your habit of letting emotions take over, you’d be a complete liability going in there with any amount of this in you.’

I grip the glass tighter. Fascinating as it is being with people older, more experienced and better informed, I’m getting a bit tired of being told what to do all the time.

‘Proof if more was needed,’ says Hannik, easing it out of my grasp. ‘You’re on an adrenaline-high and it’s made you over-confident again.’

Elderly Webdancers sure know what to say to shock you back into common-sense. She’d spotted that one a few times even before I told her what happened to my sister. And she’s right as usual. I wasn’t able to break through the anger enough to scan more than Deron’s tacit admission of guilt.

Hannik looks at the glass for a long moment, then drinks it at one gulp. Zin takes my hand and leads me into the next room.

‘Neski will stay with her while it kicks in. Not something you need to see. It’s painful till it settles.’

I frown. ‘I’m not a child, Zin. Isn’t this something I need to learn?’

He sits opposite me and takes my hand, his brown eyes full of concern.

‘Maybe one day. But right now I need to help you strengthen your focus. Hannik’s going to be hyper-sensitive as you walk to the palace and sit through this tea-party. She’ll be reluctant to communicate while she uses heightened senses to overhear anything that might be useful. She’ll need you to watch out for her, protect her, especially while she’s trying to cover silent conversation with meaningless small-talk. You may have to fill awkward pauses with some meaningless comments of your own.’

‘Ouch. I’m not good at any of that.’

‘I can help. Now. Focus.’ He takes both my hands and holds them firmly in his own, calming my uncertainty with his steady grip. ‘First level lieth, the place beyond self. Infinity-focus. Wait till everything becomes clear and sharp.’

I’ve heard it so many times in training but it always helps when someone holds focus with me. I ease into the heightened awareness of lieth concentration, trying to catch up with the frequency-shift, feeling Zin’s steady breathing and solid, experienced presence.

Zin squeezes my hand. ‘I know the train got you here too fast. Concentrate on the ground under the buildings, the living abali towers, seabirds in the air...’

His voice is rich and deep, carrying my focus beyond the room until I feel the pulsing life of the plains stretching resonance-threads deep into the city, the cool ocean matrix carrying its salt-laden bounty into the air above. My vision and hearing sharpen and the confusing speed of events slows and becomes manageable. Within the familiar clarity a new thought occurs.

‘Is ayan like this?’

‘Times about twenty. And a lot more painful.’

‘Oh.’

Zin pulls me to my feet and leads me to the door. ‘Time to go.’

Hannik is already there, her face a mask of tightly-controlled pain as she stands silent and still at Neski’s side. I take her arm.

We walk to the palace without speaking. I know she’s listening in to any chance information but my scan has no sense of her presence. It feels disturbing, like walking with someone who isn’t really there. I keep reminding myself to check for anyone following, painfully aware of my lack of experience.

The president’s quarters are one level above the hall we visited earlier. The room is the same elegant, cold style; large windows set in unadorned pearl walls and floor, furnished only with clear glass chairs and table. A white hover-bed rests against one side.

Saroyan is seated at the table, pouring steaming pink liquid from a delicate glass tea service. Deron lurks near the door, a malignant purple shadow against the shimmering iridescence of the room. I wrestle with the anger, trying to focus on my job instead of my last bloody image of Maret. We sit down.

Saroyan inclines her head formally. ‘I’m glad you could come.’

A long pause. I can’t hear the information exchange, but a powerful sense of deep affection between two long-time friends suddenly floods my scan. I try to keep my face impassive, aware of Deron’s scrutiny.

Hannik finally speaks. ‘I’ve been studying new food plants native to Karesh. I must send you my notes.’

Saroyan gives a polite acknowledgement. ‘That would be most interesting.’

Another silent pause fills the room with warning, fear, direction. Distracted from my bodyguard role, I start searching for words in it.

Deron moves silently to the door and ushers in two heavily armed uniformed men. I watch them approach, astounded to see that they feel entitled to walk into the president’s private apartment without permission. A clutch of fear tells me the Empire’s takeover of my country is further advanced than we suspected.

Deron must have alerted them to come and monitor the meeting.

Aware that Hannik’s opportunity to gather information is getting perilously short, I stand up, desperately trying to think of a suitable distraction, trying not to trip over this dratted floor-length robe, hoping my smile to Deron isn’t as false as it feels.

‘Oh, Minister, do introduce us to your visitors!’ I flutter eyelashes at the newcomers, then turn back expectantly to Deron. I get some small satisfaction to see his annoyance when he notices I’ve managed to stand between him and Saroyan, blocking most of his view. He switches to his professional unctuous manner, visibly trying to conceal his irritation.

‘Of course. General Vadem Pucrov. Resident liaison for the Arcturian diplomatic mission.’ Deron indicates the heavy-set older man with rows of medals on his jacket, then waves perfunctorily towards the stony-faced young bodyguard with noticeably less deference. ‘And Captain Reith, Eden operations commander.’ He turns towards the two military men with an obsequious dip of the head. ‘Webdancer Hannik and her secretary are visiting from Kar university.’

I start to panic. I hate awkward decisions. Will I make things better or worse if I open my stupid-secretary mouth again? No chance to run and one look at the bristling array of weapons the two men have strapped to their persons suggests that fighting with a couple of tiny melon-slicers isn’t much of an option either.

Nothing left but the fashion-conscious secretary. Oh great.

‘Please! Have some pinkleaf and tell me about the mission, and your homeworld, and what you’ve enjoyed in Merkaan during your residency here. It’s all so exciting...’

I flap a self-conscious hand at the table, then do my best to muster an endearing whisper to Deron.

‘Minister, can someone bring more cups? Maybe something got overlooked?’

He doesn’t quite conceal the snarl that says he seriously resents being forced to maintain appearances in front of his paymasters. His reputation as the one who can keep control of this administration is suddenly on the line and he isn’t going to forget who put it there. My life just got more precarious.

He leans round the door and I hear him speaking to someone about cups.

Hannik stands. ‘I didn’t know the president had another meeting scheduled. Perhaps we should leave.’ She takes my arm and walks as steadily as she can towards the door. Deron blocks the way.

‘Leaving so soon?’ His eyes narrow, searching our faces suspiciously for a hidden agenda. I manage a faint smile through the pit of fear in my stomach and push past him. His hand trails along the rose-shimmering silk of my robe and for a hideous moment I’m sure he’ll grab it and haul me back. Then I’m past him and we’re down the stairs and I feel Hannik’s hand shaking as she clutches my arm.

The cool air of the street is a blessed relief. I check carefully as we head back to Neski’s house. Nobody following. I hope.

I turn through a few side streets to break the direct line of the route. At last it seems we really are clear of trouble and I can start to relax and maybe Hannik will come out of this weird ayan-trance and start to communicate properly again––

Then someone grabs my arm and drags me into a cheese shop.