Agents of rivelt, p.1
Agents of Rivelt, page 1
Contents
1. Never Blackmail a Thought-Reader
2. Don’t Rescue Me
3. Orphaned
4. Trapped Rescuer
5. Assassin Hunting
6. Counterfeit Apprentice
7. Forbidden Spy
8. Voice from the Past
9. Turncoat
10. Burned
11. Ensnared
A Note from Sharon
Diverse Similarity
More From Sharon Rose
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Never Blackmail a Thought-Reader
Tracy caught her first glimpse of him in the casino lounge. The only guy she couldn’t see.
His broad-shouldered, athletic build and shimmering green hair were clear enough, but not a single thought leaked. With nothing for her to read, he seemed invisible.
No matter. Hundreds of suckers were always passing through the space station. She only needed to select a few each night—and, of course, check the Syndicate’s watchers for suspicion.
Tracy meandered through gaudy rooms, gambling a few times for appearance’s sake. So many bodies—the air reeked. A winner’s cheer crowed above incessant chatter. She ignored it all, sifting and analyzing thoughts that flowed on currents only she could perceive. Then, she passed Joe in a crowded aisle so their touch would look accidental. He downloaded her information: the faces of likely prey; their preferred games and strategies; how much money they had; and how desperate, stupid, or confident they were. Joe took it from there and fleeced them—careful not to win so obviously that the Syndicate would take notice.
Job done for tonight, she sauntered past the Thief Limb Removal station, as though she feared nothing. Its burner glowed, as always. Such an effective deterrent that she’d only seen it used once. Or felt it, really. She’d almost given herself away that night when the pickpocket’s agony had come searing into her mind.
She headed for an obscure, dark corner of the lounge, where she could escape the revulsion that spilled from any who saw her. Four years of working the casinos had dulled the sting of rejection but never let her forget it.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Tracy jumped and spun to the voice behind her. Mister green-hair, of course. No one else could sneak up on her. His black shirt stretched to cover his biceps. Wisps of silky green wove through the fabric. Expensive.
He took a step back. “Sorry, miss. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She had overreacted. Better fix that. “It’s just—no one offers to buy me drinks.” The reason should be obvious now that he could see her face.
“No? A snack then.” His lips stopped moving, but a whisper reached her ears. “If you’re done working, of course.”
The blood drained from her face. Barely stopping her gaze from darting to the burner, she double-checked the crowd. No one’s thoughts included an image of her. “I’m a patron, you idiot.”
“Yeah, that’s necessary, considering your skills.” He pointed to a secluded table. “You better sit down, Tracy. Fainting attracts attention.”
She let him guide her to a chair. He knew her name, too? What was he? A Syndicate informer? A blackmailer? She must figure out his angle. Pick-pockets just got their hands burned off. Thought-readers like her got their heads charred to a blackened skull.
He tapped something into the order terminal and pressed his hand to the ID scanner. “My name’s Vigard. I won’t inform.”
Her shoulders relaxed. Blackmail she could survive. “I don’t have money.”
“I imagine that’s true.” He smirked. “But Joe, with those innocent blue eyes, rakes in a bundle.”
She stared at him as a servobot delivered food and drinks. Did he know everything? She took a sip of her drink, a baby sour—no alcohol. What kind of guy was he? She wished he were pumping out thoughts like everyone else, but oh, it was fabulous not to sense revulsion.
“Joe keeps the money.” She took a snack chip and dug into the meaty dip, then popped it into her mouth.
“Figured that. Otherwise, you’d have gotten those scars fixed.”
He had to bring it up? She tilted her head, letting her straight, black hair slide forward like a veil. One side of her face was a mess from deep abrasions. A jagged gash marred the other from brow to lip. Whoever had patched her up, did a clumsy job sealing the wound. One eyelid didn’t close right, and her smile was downright gruesome. She ate to avoid answering.
Vigard took a sip of his drink. “How’d it happen?”
“I’m not really sure. Just woke up with my head aching like it would explode and no memory. Joe found me and took me to his place. By the time I could think straight, I realized he—he knew about me.” She grabbed another chip. “He’s sort of decent. Protects me and pays for necessities, as long as I give him information. I suppose that’s what you want, too. Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m a private locator.”
“Bounty hunter, you mean.” She spat the words.
His lips tightened. “I’ve brought in some scum, but I never work for the Syndicate. This time it’s family business—looking for an abducted kid.”
Sad. She swept her hand to indicate the casino. “You won’t find any kids here.”
“You’d be surprised what I find in casinos.” He spun his glass in its puddle of condensation. “You were right. It’s information I’m after. How long you been with Joe?”
She scooped up more dip. “I don’t see how knowing about me an’ Joe will help. He doesn’t traffic in that sort of thing.”
“Just like to know my informers. Got nothing against you, and I won’t hurt you. How long?”
She shrugged. “Four years.”
His steel-gray eyes held her gaze through a slow nod. “Why don’t you run?”
“Nowhere to go.”
“No family or friends before the accident?”
Why was he interrogating her? “I can’t remember. Besides…” She lifted the glitzy, black and silver ornament around her neck. A solid ring with no clasp. Too small to slip over her head. “This only pretends to be jewelry.”
“Hmm.” He frowned at it, tapping a finger on his lower lip. “Does it inflict pain?”
“Nothing that gentle. It just blares an incriminating announcement that’ll get me burned to death.”
“How’s it set off?”
“Joe can activate it from any network computer. If I leave the space station, it’ll self-activate. He programmed and sealed it with a random password. Since he doesn’t know it, I can’t either.”
“How do you pass him information?”
She scraped the last of the dip out of the bowl. “Why are you asking all this?”
“The kid I’m looking for—she was sixteen when she was abducted. Four years ago. The family blasted her picture everywhere, but they never got a lead. She’s from Rivelt.”
Rivelt! Tracy tightened long fingers around her glass. The planet where thought-readers were the normal ones. There, thought-leakers were segregated into a visitor colony so they couldn’t disturb normal people with random spray from every firing neuron. Could she be…? But no—the Riveltians had facial markings. She sucked in a breath and pressed cold fingers to her scarred face, then remembered the danger and dropped her hand.
He let a thought drift to her. I’m from Rivelt, too. My markings were surgically removed.
So, he was in as much danger here as she was. She could trust him. She sipped her drink and let a thought out. Are you sure it’s me you’re looking for?
I am. Your real name is Telnia. “We need to keep talking or we’ll look strange. I study your picture every day. You have beautiful eyes. I’d recognize them anywhere.”
Wow! A compliment. Her stomach tensed. “Uh, thank you.”
“Back to business. How do you transfer information to Joe?”
She read thoughts from the crowd again. No one noticed them. “We have matched brain chips with STS activation. Oh, that stands for simultaneous tactile stimulation around here. I just brush up against him, and it triggers a download.”
Vigard slid his fingers up and down his glass. “I have a private transport docked. I dropped off some rich partiers a couple days ago. No one would hear the neck ring once you’re inside my transport.”
“They would hear it on my way to the docks. If I get too far from Joe, it sends him a message. I may look free, but he’s got me locked up, and he knows that I know. That’s the thing about blackmail. He can be completely honest with me.”
Vigard took another sip of his drink. “Any fancy programming on those brain chips?”
“Course not! Don’t you know how dangerous it is to hack brain chips?”
He smiled and nodded. “Can you play a part?”
What a stupid question. “Do you think I don’t play a part every moment I’m visible?”
“Strangers are easily tricked. You’re alive, so you must be able to slip by Syndicate watchers. But can you fool Joe?”
Her heart doubled its rhythm. She had pondered her dilemma countless times, but now she had a transport. The equation had changed. “Do you have a plan in mind?”
“You reach my airlock with no alarm, and I can get us away. But you are the only one who knows Joe. So, you tell me the plan.”
Her hands tingled as she considered which fears would be the most effective.
Joe shut the apartment door. “What’s with you? If I didn’t know better, I’d think somebody was buying you drink
“Just one, but it’s not that.” She twirled through the living room.
His brows shot up. “Well, what is it, then?”
“I think I’m in love.”
Joe groaned. “Oh, please. No offense, but take a look in the mirror. Don’t tell me you can’t recognize a con that obvious.” He caught up to her near the kitchen. “Give me a visual of this joker.” He grabbed her wrist to activate the chip, then jumped back like she’d burned him.
“What?” she asked, feigning surprise.
His voice rasped. “Our chips have been hacked.”
“You sure?” She took a second to read him and absorb the deep, male voice he’d heard.
Warning! Chip security protocols violated. Please report to Augmentation Services so we can analyze and prevent false embezzlement charges. Do not delay. The Syndicate is vigilant in protecting the assets of its patrons. Suspect data transfers are detected and reported.
“Whoa!” She steadied herself against the wall. “That’s not what I sent. Let me try again. Maybe I—”
“No!” He darted around the table. “Don’t touch me.”
She stared at him like he’d gone nuts.
He raked a hand through his blonde hair then clutched at it. “Give me a minute to think. Just…just describe this guy to me.”
She continued to stare. “Why? Do you think you can un-hack the chips if you find him?” She read the answer from him. “We both know you can’t.”
“You let him hack us!” Joe clung to the back of a chair. “Why? I treat you well. He won’t. He’s tricking you.”
She laughed. No need to tell Joe she couldn’t read the man she trusted.
Joe bristled. “There are people out there who can do that, you know.” Then, he remembered how pointless his fabrication was. For once, it was fun reading his thoughts. He switched back to his straightforward mode. “Stay with me, Tracy. I’ve always kept you safe. You can still pass me information. We’ll work out a code.”
“Syndicate watchers will catch onto that in a week—or a day.” Ah yes, he knew that, too. “Face it, Joe. I’m no use to you anymore.”
“Don’t you dare turn on me. I can still set off that neck ring.”
“True. And when the Syndicate guards swarm me, they won’t be at all curious about who is blackmailing me.”
His lips clamped.
“Yep, that’s right. You squeal on me, and I squeal on you. The way I see it, Joe, you’ve only got two choices left. You can let me go, or you can kill me. What’s your plan for getting rid of my body? The Syndicate takes a dim view of unauthorized murder. Bad for business, you know.”
His jaw worked. “Aren’t you forgetting something? They’ll kill you, too. There’s nowhere to go that’s beyond their reach. No ships dock here that aren’t tight with the Syndicate.”
“None that you know of. Come to think of it, you need a ride too. How long do you want to walk around with a hacked brain chip? Even if you don’t use it, the Syndicate will be scanning for it now.”
She let that final ingredient simmer in his fear then softened her expression. “I’ll admit, you’ve been halfway decent to me. Not very generous, but not awful. There’s still plenty of money to be made, and we know how to work together. I just want a friendlier setting and a bigger cut. I’ll let you come with me if you want.”
She kept a straight face while he squirmed.
“Fine.”
She sauntered to the door. “Let’s go for a little walk.”
More like a long, terrifying walk for her, but not as scary as leaving Joe alone. At any moment, he might catch on. They finally reached the dock Vigard had specified, and she tapped the access panel. The airlock whished open. Tracy jumped at a distant clang that echoed down the metal corridor.
“Come on in and meet our new partner.” She sidled past Vigard in the airlock.
Joe followed her over the threshold—and met Vigard’s fist.
Tracy sensed an instant of shock until Joe’s head slammed on the corridor’s floor. The airlock door slid shut.
She gripped the nearest handhold and pressed a palm to her chest. “I did it!”
Vigard sealed the inner airlock. “Not away yet. Come up front and sit down.” He half dragged her to an acceleration couch in the cockpit. “Strap in.” His rapid motions seemed distant in the blissful, mental hush. No thought-leakers.
He dropped into the couch beside her, checked her restraints, then hooked his. “How ya doin’?”
“It’s so quiet!”
He laughed. “Most people complain the engine is noisy. Be ready for zero G. I’m detaching now.”
“What about this?” She flicked her neck ring.
“Got it covered.” He jerked a tool from a magnetic clasp, but not before the alarm went wild.
“Ahh!” She tugged on the despised ring.
Vigard grimaced at the shrill tone. “Don’t add to it.”
Strobe lights lit up the ring and flashed over his scowl. The alarm switched to words. Warning! Thought-reader! Warning! Thought-reader! He cut through one side of the ring, but still the chant blared.
He shouted over the din. “Spin it. Give me the other side.”
She jerked it halfway around, and he severed it again. The two pieces separated, chanting and flashing. Vigard stretched to open a compartment, chucked them in, and slammed it shut. A muffled warning emanated from the trash bin. Tracy giggled.
Vigard swore and jabbed the ejection button. Even though the obnoxious thing was silenced, Tracy couldn’t stop laughing. It infected him, and they both shook with laughter as acceleration pinned them in their couches.
At last the engine dropped back to a low hum, and she let out a long sigh—a sort of ecstatic moan. “I can’t believe I’m free.”
He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Swallowed your bait, did he?”
“Every word. I wish you could have seen his face when he downloaded the warning. You hit just the right tone—so cold and ominously polite.” Vigard chuckled as she murmured, “I wonder how long he’ll believe his chip is hacked.”
Vigard snorted. “I hope it’s enough to make him blow his cover. I wanted to pound him into a bloody pulp, but didn’t dare let someone hear a fight. Did he pay a percentage to the Syndicate?”
“Never.”
“Good. They don’t take kindly to losing their cut. I’ll leave the dirty work to them. Maybe that way, I won’t have to listen to snide remarks about bounty hunters.”
“Sorry.” She shifted in her couch. “I don’t really mind that you get money for finding me.”
“Better not. You weren’t easy to locate, and I gotta eat and buy fuel at Syndicate prices.” He dropped the gruff tone. “Besides…” He cupped a hand to her scarred cheek. “It gets a little personal when they take our kind and treat us like criminals. A casino of all places! You are one clever lady to survive that.”
His gaze never faltered, nor did his hand flinch from the lumpy scar. Realization sent warm tingles through her body. She was more than free—she was valuable.
Her lips trembled. “Thanks,” she murmured. “For all of it.”
He reached for the clasps and unhooked their couch restraints. “Sure. Let’s see how you manage in zero gravity. Are you queasy?”
“No.” She kept a hand in contact with solid surfaces as she maneuvered from the cockpit.
Vigard guided her through a short hallway. “That’s my quarters on the left. On this side is the galley. And here is the lounge. Your berth is on the far side.” He let go of her. “See if you can reach a table on your own.”
She pushed off gently and ended up right where she had aimed.
“You’re a natural.” He joined her at the table. “You must have been in zero G during childhood.”
Childhood? An empty canvas to her. Almost as unknown as her present situation. She looked around the lounge. Passenger couches and tables. Video screen embedded in one wall. The ceiling was painted like a sky. Everything was designed for use with or without gravity. She had thought only of leaving the space station, not of where she would end up. Now another empty canvas loomed before her. She met Vigard’s gaze. “Where are we going?”
