Angle of Truth Read online

  “Yes. But there’s a reason why populated countries and planets usually say no to ahridium prospectors and most of the operations out there are set up in deep space. Ahridium is extremely toxic to humans if ingested, and no matter how careful miners say they’ll be, some of what they mine inevitably ends up in the soil and the water around the mines.”

  “You said the mines would be in the ocean?”

  “Yes, which would make it even more dangerous for us, since it would contaminate the water around our continent. We get our drinking water—our water for everything—from the desalination plants along the coast.”

  “You couldn’t filter out ahridium as well as salt?” Thor asked.

  “Perhaps it could be done, but not with our current equipment, most of which is a century or more old. The machinery we have was installed when we were a part of the empire. Since they fell and we were forgotten, we’ve been doing our best to make do.”

  Thor slanted a bland look at Jelena, and she could see him wanting to point out that things had been better, at least for some people, when the empire had ruled over most of the system.

  “The Alliance reps didn’t offer to bring you fancy filtering equipment?” Jelena asked.

  “They did say that could be arranged, and our president polled our people and also spoke to our scientists. Nobody wanted to allow the mining. It made people very nervous to know that our only water supply could turn toxic and that if anything happened to our water treatment plants, we would be without a way to filter the poison out of the water. In addition, as the scientists were quick to point out, our primary food source is the ocean. Fish, eel, octopuses, shellfish, tyshree, and langlang, we eat it all. It’s what’s allowed us to live here. Man cannot live on cactus alone.” That faint smile came again. “There would be no way to keep the sea life from absorbing ahridium, and if the concentrations were high enough, the fish would die before we ever caught them. That would especially be true of the varieties that came from Old Earth. The planet’s original species might be able to handle it, since ahridium is an element native to this system, but if we ate them, the result would be the same for us.” She spread her hands. “The Alliance representatives promised us we’d be able to import food, and even potable water, if needed, with all the money we would make from the deal, but then we would be reliant on the rest of the system for our livelihoods. We’re a proud people, Prince Thorian. We’ve made a home in inhospitable conditions, and we’ve rarely needed help. We’d like to keep it that way. So we said no to the Alliance.”

  “I would have too,” Thor said.

  Jelena kept her mouth shut. She didn’t like where the story was heading. It seemed inevitable that the Alliance—at least the representatives here, the very ones she’d agreed to rescue—would turn out to be the villains in the eyes of the Chollan people. And maybe in her own eyes too.

  She had wanted to be of service to the Alliance, to win their regard and perhaps become known as someone helpful. Oh, she wanted the regard of the Starseer community even more, but she couldn’t help but feel that she needed to get in good with the Alliance since she’d caused some trouble at Upsilon Seven and since she was now flying around with Thor. Most of the people he’d assassinated had originally been imperial subjects who betrayed the empire. Unfortunately, that had made them heroes to the Alliance, which explained why their government had people hunting Thor right now. Jelena had known about that when she invited him to join her crew, and maybe that hadn’t been the wisest thing, but somehow, she’d imagined that through the appropriate heroics, they could make the Alliance forget about those crimes and realize that the Snapper and its crew were a boon to the system.

  “For a month or so after we rejected them,” Hakim said, “nothing happened. But then our intelligence network reported that the Alliance representatives had gone over to Opuntia and were having meetings with the leaders there. Soon after, the Opuntians informed us that the time had finally come for our population of heathens to give up our barbaric ways, join the Trinity, and allow their missionaries to come over and set up temples and instruct the population in the way of the one true religion.” Her tone had gone extremely dry. “We said no, of course, as they knew we would, but then one of their trains was bombed. Stories were circulated, both on our global news networks and out on the sys-net, claiming that we were responsible, that we’d been so offended by their attempts to civilize us that we’d gone on the offensive and planned to take over their continent. They said we’d launched a preemptive strike and that it was time for war, to ensure their way of life would be protected and that we wouldn’t come for them before they came for us. Our old war leader, General Vu, was blamed—he was known to be devoutly religious, so maybe he was a feasible scapegoat—and the stories started claiming that he was uniting our people and had plans to march on the entire planet and then beyond.”

  “Who bombed the train?” Jelena asked, confused by the new thread in the tapestry.

  “Not us,” Hakim said firmly.

  “You’re positive?” Thor’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  Jelena hadn’t been trying to read Hakim’s thoughts as she spoke, but she imagined Thor was. Had he detected a lie in the story?

  “The Opuntians wouldn’t have bombed their own people,” Jelena said, “just so they could put the blame on you. Right? I assume there were casualties.”

  “There were,” Hakim said. “And it enraged their nation. They voted to wage war on us. And thus, we found ourselves immersed in a battle that we didn’t want. Everybody here knows this is about the Opuntians wanting to take us over so they can hand our ahridium to their new allies and ensure their place in the Alliance. I’m sure they were offered the same wealth we were offered, but how different it is when the mines wouldn’t be anywhere near their continent. As far as the rest of the system knows, this is about religion. The Opuntians have made us out to be cruel and unpredictable zealots. In their opening salvos, they destroyed our satellites, so we don’t have any easy way to inform the system otherwise, not that they’d listen. Our beliefs have always made us outsiders, and outsiders are not to be trusted.”

  Jelena eyed Thor, remembering him saying something similar, and she wondered if he’d had an idea about what was happening down here long before this story had been told. But was this story to be believed?

  She’s not lying, for the most part, Thor told her silently. She believes what she’s saying. Whether it’s a partial truth or the whole truth, I cannot determine. I can only tell what a person believes.

  Is she sure her people didn’t bomb the train?

  She’s sure it wasn’t ordered—she was at the old war leader’s side the whole time. She can’t be sure that someone else from the nation didn’t do it. There are a lot of different religions here, and some of them have different factions within each religion. They’ve gotten along well, for the most part, especially for the last couple of centuries, because they’ve had to band together to survive in this inhospitable environment, but that doesn’t mean all the factions are in agreement on all things. Some of them have histories of using violence to make statements all the way back to Old Earth. Further, you may have figured out that she wants our help—interestingly, it’s the Starseers she’s hoping to appeal to, rather than me—so she’s putting the best possible spin on this, the one most likely to make us sympathetic.

  Why would the Starseers care about their planet? I mean, I’m somewhat invested now, but a few weeks ago, I wasn’t aware of any of this.

  Don’t you ever watch the news?

  Not if I can help it.

  I doubt the Starseer community cares, but she believes they don’t have any love for the Alliance. Which is true for the most part. Even those who aren’t imperial loyalists remember the Alliance attack on the Arkadius Temple ten years ago. So she thinks a deal might be struck, that something might be offered to enlist Starseer aid.

  What would they offer if they don’t want their ahridium dug up? Would ahridium eve
n mean anything to her people? Jelena was fairly certain any Starseer who desired wealth could simply walk into a casino on Primus 7 and win the games of chance. Maybe she should learn how to play them so she could try that. What would her parents think if she offered to pay off a debt with gambling winnings?

  From what I’ve read, casino managers figure it out quickly if someone is winning more than is likely, Thor said dryly into her mind. And then they run you out. Or make you disappear.

  Making a Starseer disappear wouldn’t be easy.

  They have android security. As to the rest, Hakim isn’t sure what she could offer to Starseers that would win them over as allies, but if we show any interest in helping, she’s prepared to give us a place on their continent where we could have a temple and bring our people if we wished. Since Starseers have also been ostracized since the Order Wars, she believes that might appeal, being offered a place in a community.

  Would it? Jelena knew that mundane people feared Starseers and never invited them to settle among them. For a legitimate reason. The first Starseers had attempted to take over the system back before the rest of the colonized planets had matured into civilizations and regained the ability to put ships into space. But she’d always had the impression that most Starseers chose to live in isolation and wanted it that way, so they could avoid contact with regular humans.

  It might to some. It’s hard to say. There are many factions among our people too. Some side with the Alliance, some remain loyal to the empire—such as those who trained me—but I’d guess ninety percent don’t care who is governing the system since they see themselves as outside of—and in many cases above—the affairs of grubs.

  “What happened to the Alliance representatives?” Jelena asked because Hakim was looking back and forth between them, maybe suspecting them of engaging in telepathic communication.

  “Oh, they disappeared for the better part of a year. Most of us presumed that they weren’t willing to commit any resources to this war, even if they had a vested interest in the outcome. It’s only in the last month that they returned. Now that we’re likely near the end.” Hakim grimaced and looked skyward. Did she expect another bombing run?

  Jelena grimaced, too, well aware that she and Thor were out in the open and that there wasn’t a forcefield up there any longer. She thought of the boy with his dog, and the other dogs, and all the people who’d chosen to stay up here and gather at their churches instead of fleeing to the tunnels, tunnels that might or might not offer suitable protection if the bombings continued.

  “It’s the same three people,” Hakim volunteered.

  “Who?” Jelena asked. “The Alliance representatives?”

  “Yes. Two men and a woman. They’re the ones who originally came to us last year, and the same ones who then went to the Opuntians. Also the same ones who returned to Opuntia last month. I have wondered if they have support from the rest of their government, or if it’s possible the rest of the Alliance doesn’t know everything about what’s going on here. If their leadership is not aware…” Hakim’s face grew grim. “It’s crossed my mind to kill the representatives or make them disappear and see what happens.”

  The assassination tactic never sat well with Jelena, but in this case, she could see why the war leader would feel driven to it.

  “They’re the ones you captured from Opuntia,” Thor said, “and that are currently imprisoned in your local water treatment plant.”

  Hakim blinked a few times, but the expression soon faded, turning a touch wry. She couldn’t be that surprised that a couple of Starseers would figure out what was going on here. “Yes. For now, they’ve not been hurt. If they’re simply carrying out the orders of the higher-ups in their government, then killing them would be unwise—it would result in retribution. And they would simply be replaced by other representatives. But if they’re acting of their own accord for some reason…” She lifted a shoulder. “Making them disappear could put an end to our problems.”

  “The Alliance would still seek retribution if you killed some of their appointed representatives,” Jelena said.

  “Yes, but perhaps that retribution would be directed solely at me, and the rest of my people wouldn’t be punished.” Hakim shrugged. “I never expected to survive this war, especially not now.” She waved at the rank pins on her collar.

  “So you’re holding the representatives here and waiting to see what happens,” Thor said.

  “In part. We figured that the Opuntians would be less likely to bomb our city if their Alliance allies and some of their government officials were here.” Hakim’s lip curled in disgust. “But that obviously hasn’t worked. I should have expected no less from a people willing to bomb one of their own trains just to make us look bad.”

  Thor did not comment on that.

  “I also figured that if nobody came for them,” Hakim continued, “it would suggest they might be operating on their own. Oh, I’m sure they’re official Alliance representatives—I looked them up when they first arrived—but as I said, I don’t know how important this deal is to the rest of their government.” She tilted her head, regarding Thor and Jelena. “You’re not who I expected to be sent to rescue them.”

  Jelena shifted her weight. The Chollans definitely had a good intelligence network.

  “I assume you’re not working for the Alliance,” Hakim added, looking at Thor and raising one knowing eyebrow.

  Her aide’s tablet chimed, and he lifted a hand and stepped away. He raised the whole device to his lips to ask something. Apparently, the clunky thing was a comm unit as well as a computer.

  “We’re not working for the Alliance,” Thor agreed.

  “The Opuntians then,” Hakim said. “Did they seek you out specifically?”

  Jelena wondered if Hakim had any idea how random and happenstance it was that Thor was here at all. Her crew could just as easily be on some space station right now, selling lemonade from the airlock of their ship.

  “We appreciate that you’ve spoken openly to us, War Leader,” Thor said, “and you’ve given us a great deal to consider, but we’re not willing to divulge our motives or obligations at this time. Since you presumably wouldn’t be willing to trade your ahridium to anyone else in exchange for help, I don’t know what you could offer us to gain our assistance.”

  What assistance could Thor and Jelena provide anyway? The entire Starseer community might be able to stop a war, but they were three Starseers and Masika. And one of their Starseers had a bullet in his shoulder and might have trouble concentrating for a while.

  “We can’t offer any ahridium, no. Nothing has changed on that front. We could offer sanctuary to your people.”

  “My people?” Thor arched his brows. “Those who might need a place from which to stage a battle of their own to retake the empire?”

  Hakim seemed taken aback. “Is that what you plan?”

  “One day, perhaps.”

  “I was thinking of a sanctuary for Starseers—they’re known to be nomadic, almost gypsies of the system, welcomed by few.”

  “True, but they can find sanctuaries wherever they wish. Starseers are perfectly capable of hiding their temples and homes.”

  “Hiding grows wearying after a time,” Hakim said. “I was thinking of offering not just a place to build a temple but a place in our community. We are tolerant of all ways of life and all religions. Even those who follow the Suns Trinity.” There was that faint smile again.

  “I don’t think we can help you,” Thor said.

  Jelena opened her mouth to object—she found herself wanting to help these people—but what could she offer?

  “Would you at least grant a favor?” Hakim asked the question to Jelena. Did she sense her as the more amenable one? The one more likely to help?

  “You want us to read the thoughts of the Alliance representatives,” Thor said.

  “Er, yes. Starseers are known for having that skill. Which you’ve just demonstrated.”

  “You want to
know if they’re acting on their own or following orders.”

  “Yes. I’ve talked to one of our doctors about using drugs that might make them more forthcoming in an interrogation, but she said we didn’t have anything like that here. As with everything else, our medical supplies, those beyond the most basic ones, haven’t been replenished since the fall of the empire.”

  “Oh? What was your doctor going to drug us with then?” Jelena asked. “I assume you’re the one who had us captured. Almost captured.”

  Hakim lifted her chin, not ashamed by the accusation. “I gave the order for you to be apprehended, yes. We knew you’d been speaking to Sorel and were likely coming to steal back our captives. Capturing those people involved a daring raid in which I lost several good officers. To allow them to be taken back so soon would have been devastating. I wanted an opportunity to talk to you, to attempt to negotiate with you.” Again, she was looking at Jelena. Maybe she felt that Thor was off on his own strange mission and that Jelena was more likely to be a conduit to the Starseer community as a whole.

  That’s exactly what she thinks, Thor spoke into her mind. Especially since I asked about launching a war from here, he added.

  Then she has no idea that I’m ostracized from the rest of the community.

  Ostracized? Thor looked at her, and Jelena realized she’d never floated her hypothesis past him.

  Because of Grandpa and his past association with those known to be chasadski, pariahs. Or so I believe. Aside from Grandpa, Abelardus and Young-hee are the only Starseers Erick and I have spoken to since Mom took us away from our tutors. And they were aboard the ship because Mom and Leonidas hired them, and it suited them. Nothing to do with me.

  Jelena twitched a shoulder. It was a discussion for another time. Hakim was watching her intently.

  “You needn’t have drugged us to negotiate,” Jelena said, “or shot my friend.”

  Hakim grimaced. “I wasn’t there and don’t know exactly what happened, but I believe Colonel Bradford and Dr. Ogiwara wanted to drug you for my protection. They were afraid that as long as you were conscious and could use your powers, you’d be a danger. The colonel also thought I should speak to you from a position of power. As if that’s so easy these days.” She gazed around her fort at the destroyed buildings, the rubble. “Regardless, I did not order that anyone be shot, and I apologize. Will your comrade survive his injuries?”