Dreamspy. Jacqueline Lichtenberg
I was just about to Search. Come on out.”
She pushed through an airlock and into the Window itself. It was a huge, visually and telepathically transparent bubble set into the skin of the ship, so that they seemed to be working in a waist-high pit with nothing over them but space and stars. Their fighter escort wasn’t visible, and the solar system they were approaching was barely distinguishable from the more distant stars.
Three communications workstations were set into a circular rim. Ship’s intercom, transmitters, recorders, and screens for all manner of data displays surrounded each workstation. Lee, Com Second, was alone.
He turned to look up at her. Lee was a slightly built human with a dark complexion and the most beautiful black eyes she’d ever seen. But they were neutral, not friendly. //The courier is the Otroub. My record shows their Com Officer is Etha Ckam. Do you know her?//
Adopting the formal, businesslike manner she’d been taught, she slid into the place at his right and brought up her screens. //We’ve met. She seems competent.// Actually, Ckam was one of the few Kyllikki seriously hoped would become a friend one day. Otroub, according to the records she had before her, would be in traffic range for two hours. //I’m showing a long list of messages for Otroub. Apparently their owners have been trying to get in touch with them by relay.//
//Yeah. Something about Sa’ar Stock needing transport. You know, orl, the experimental animals the luren make.//
//I know about orl. We carry some to feed luren.//
//Sa’ar designs special laboratory animals, one of the few things we still import from the Teleod despite the war.//
//The luren citadels are officially neutral. What they import—or export—is strictly legal. Zuchmul was telling me yesterday how careful they are about that.//
//Yeah,// answered Lee, //but Zuchmul hasn’t heard the latest. Now that the scion of the Sa’ar family, the richest luren family in Metaji or Teleod, is missing with a shipload of expensive orl, the Teleod is saying that we—the Duke of Fotel, actually—captured the Sa’ar and his orl as hostages.//
//Why would a Duke want to antagonize the luren?//
//Who knows? But Otroub is owned by D’sillin Service, which is luren owned and based on one of Fotel’s fiefs. If Sa’ar is dealing with Fotel, willing or not, it could affect the outcome of the war. Deny that, if you can.//
//Can’t. But if Fotel wanted Otroub to transport hostages, they wouldn’t be filling space with the message. No, the Sa’ar was lost, just like hundreds of others. Luren in the Teleod use their own ships, a design that can’t be relied on anymore, from the days when they didn’t even carry life pods. Sa’ar runs a fleet of them. Or used to.//
Prosperity was older yet, and carried a full complement of life pods, which lets them charge extra for passage now.
//Well, maybe he was just lost, then,// he allowed. He glanced at her, and she picked up an unworded idea. Unless the Sa’ar heir is defecting, like she did, and bringing the luren with him. In which case, I’ll bet she knows.
She bent over her station, poking things at random, struggling to discipline her mind. But it was too late. She felt Lee’s thoughts recede as if stung. Her heart stopped. Metaji protocols demanded working telepaths stay out of each other’s minds. Shog! I hate this place!
“What’s the matter, Kyllikki?” His barriers were so tight she might have been hearing a voice transmission.
At least he’s not crying traitor. Her heart slammed into action again. She bent to repair the damage she’d done to her displays. “I’m sorry. I’ve been nervous all day.”
“I guess I can understand how hard it must be here for you. I just do this kind of work because I’m not much good at anything else. You were bred for it.”
Not for this kind of work, she wanted to say. She had been bred for the total immersion of the Dreambond, the unique linkage that could form only between a member of the Eight Families, like Kyllikki, and a Dreamer. That linkage was illegal in both Teleod and Metaji, and the Dreamers were confined to their planet. In the Teleod, Bonders like Kyllikki had to survive on an occasional deep contact, and when it got particularly bad, there were drugs to blunt the need. But not here. Her Metaji retraining had supposedly conditioned her to block out even that need. Until today, it had. She met Lee’s eyes. “You’re right. The work will steady my coordination so I won’t make any more...mistakes.”
“That’s what it was, ill-coordination?” She assented and he got to his feet, shutting down his station. //All yours, then, Com Third.// His mental voice was disciplined, distant, perfectly modulated.
But even so, the surface touch was such a tremendous relief that she looked up at him with a grin of pure joy. //Thank you, Lee.// She turned to log onto the bridge stations and accept the hails from the bridge officers who were surprised to find her on duty already. As Lee departed, she sealed herself into the Window, making sure she wouldn’t be disturbed when her mental barriers were down, and at the same time she readied a file for incoming traffic and began the mental Search Lee had been about to do for Otroub and the courier’s Com Officer, Ckam.
In moments, she had forgotten herself in the routine of tracking the approach to the Barkyr system, exchanging relayed greetings, and coordinating with Prosperity’s three matched escort ships, Gita One, Gita Two, and Gita Three.
Each escort fighter carried a crew of three, one of whom was a marginal telepath with minimal training and range. Such talent was plentiful enough to be expendable, or so the military thought.
The three fighters escorting the liner Prosperity had split up. One had gone out to check on Otroub, one was behind them, and the other was ahead of them clearing their way into Barkyr space. Otroub would bypass the system, not even coming within coherent spectral transmission range of either the system or Prosperity. Kyllikki would send Otroub the mail bound for a military base, which was Otroub’s next stop, and pick up any messages bound for Barkyr or Station Prime, the free orbiting habitat that housed Barkyr Defense.
When she finally made contact with Otroub’s Etha Ckam, Kyllikki wasted no time pushing her traffic. Each message was read, then read back as the ships neared closest approach, then began to separate again.
As she had expected, Kyllikki’s nerves steadied down once the routine was established and she had contact with a friendly, open mind, however formal. They worked quickly and smoothly together and finished before contact faded.
//Kyllikki, what do you make of this business with the Sa’ar livestock?// added Ckam. //Do you think it could be important enough to keep us from delivering our passenger?//
//Passenger? Couriers don’t carry passengers.// To compensate for the fading contact, Kyllikki lowered her barriers, suddenly very interested.
//We’ve got one this trip. He’s some kind of exotic entertainer bound for a court functionary’s reception, or that’s the story. He is gorgeous enough, but—//
Without warning, a whole sensory image exploded into Kyllikki’s mind, filtered and embroidered by Ckam’s libido, and fraught with fulsome overtones. She learned more from that one instant than she could have from an hour of words. But it was illicit knowledge. She’d invaded another mind, and again broken out of audio-analogue. Unaware of what Kyllikki sensed, Ckam added, //—you’re right, no mere entertainer would be on a courier—what’s the matter?//
The image throbbed through Kyllikki’s whole being.
//Kyllikki?// Ckam had withdrawn to a cool professional distance. The image was no longer coming from her, but Kyllikki couldn’t let it go.
//Etha, do you know what race he is?// Can’t be. Just simply can’t be. There are no Dreamers in the Metaji. None.
//Oh...well...//
It was rude to ask about race here. //Never mind. It’s just that he...uh...sounded familiar.//
//You recognized his voice from my memory!