Steven Harper - Dreamer

They strolled passed the guard and into the neighborhood.

— That was good, Mother,~ Trish chortled. ~You sounded like a queen.~

“Daughter?” Harenn asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Ara said.

“Mother, what’s happening?” Ben said in Ara’s earpiece. “The kid has stopped moving and I think he’s indoors.”

“He’s in an apartment house,” Ara said. “We’re going in. We’ll probably be out of touch for a while, so hang tight.”

“What about me?” Pitr asked. “I’m about half a kilometer away.”

“If you can, find a place to wait for us,” Ara instructed. “If not, head back to the Script.”

The apartment house was a block away from the wall. The neighborhood buildings, while in poor repair, were at least clean. Windows gleamed. No papers or other detritus clogged the gutters. Walls were cracked, but any loose bits of mortar had been cleared away. Window boxes made of scrap lumber sported flowers and herbs. People sat on porches, enjoying the cooling night air, and flute music floated from a window.

“Interesting,” Harenn murmured. “Inhabitants in the other neighborhoods we passed would not dare to be sitting outside in such a manner.”

Ara nodded in agreement as they arrived at the boy’s building. No one sat on the steps but the entryway door was locked. When Ara tried the old-fashioned nob, a speaker whirred to life.

“Glory to the Unity. Please state your name and your business,” a scratchy computer voice said.

Ara ignored it and tried the door again.

“Glory to the Unity. Please state your name and your business.”

“Can you get this open, Gretchen?” Ara asked.

“Probably,” Gretchen said. “But the gate guard is watching us.”

“Damn. Ben, can you get a list of residents for this building?” Ara recited the address.

“The directory lists eighteen,” Ben replied. “Do you want all of them?”

“Can you tell what floor the boy is on?”

“The first,” Ben said promptly. “I think you should know Kendi’s here and he’s biting his nails corn on the cob.”

“Glory to the Unity. Please state your name and your business.”

“What are the names of the first floor residents?” Ara said.

“Keeren and Jace Muhar, Nara Oliva, and Vidya and Sejal Dasa. Nara is an old lady. Keeren and Jace are listed as spouses. Vidya and Sejal are listed as mother and son.”

The boy was named Sejal, then. The Empress and her orders loomed in Ara’s mind. She may have to ensure the death of someone named Sejal. Ara faltered. She had never been easy with the idea of deciding whether this boy would live or die, and the fact that he now had a name and a mother made it even worse.

“Glory to the Unity. Please state your name and your business.”

Hunger rumbled in Ara’s stomach. Her legs ached, and she was bone tired. Suddenly the idea of seeing the boy-Sejal-up close was nothing but repellent.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said.

“Leave? But we’re so close,” Gretchen protested.

“I’m tired, I’m hungry, and the boy isn’t going anywhere,” Ara said with more firmness than she had intended. “The Unity won’t find him by tomorrow. We’ll come back later. Let’s go.”

Ara marched off, not waiting to see if Harenn and Gretchen followed. At the gate, she nodded once at the guard. “Glory. No one home,” she said without stopping to care about the transparent lie. And with that, Mother Adept Araceil strode swiftly back toward her ship.

Benjamin Rymar stood uncertainly outside Ara’s door. Kendi had been right-Mother Adept Araceil wasn’t quite herself. It wasn’t just that she had gone straight to her quarters without speaking to anyone after she, Harenn, and Gretchen returned from the city. Ben also knew Ara well enough to see the signs that something was bothering her-a certain tightness around the mouth, certain tense gestures-and these signs had shown up after her conference with the Empress. The problem was obviously something to do with the Silent, and Ben wasn’t Silent. It was therefore none of his business.

Of course it’s your business, said a small inner voice. You’re a member of the crew. Her problems have an impact on you.

But Ben shrugged the voice away. The Children of Irfan had problems and dealt with situations that the non-Silent couldn’t even comprehend. None of his business. That had been made abundantly clear to him from childhood.

So why was he now standing outside her door with the promise he had made to Kendi fresh in his mind?

Kendi. Ben closed his eyes. It hadn’t been easy avoiding Kendi aboard the ship. When Ben had been forced to go alone to Kendi’s quarters to gather the dermosprays, he’d been sweating bullets. He remembered the jolt he’d experienced when Kendi’s arm spasmed and the look of pain that had crossed Kendi’s face. He remembered the warmth of Kendi’s arm when he’d helped Kendi sit on the bed. He remembered words bubbling up and he remembered barely swallowing them in time. Kendi always took the tiniest mole hills and from them built mountains to rival Everest. It was bad enough Ben had said “maybe.” He was sure Kendi had gotten a lot of mileage out of that one by now.

So why had he said it?

Ben shook his head. That was easy enough to answer. Love. The two weeks Kendi had gone missing had been pure, unadulterated hell. Trish had had to pry Ben away from the consoles for food and rest, and he had taken risks hacking the nets that made him shake in retrospect. Once Kendi had been located, Ara ran paperwork and Ben lay alone on his single bed, feeling guilty that he was free and wondering what was happening to Kendi. Was he being beaten? Raped? Murdered?

Ben had barely slept. And then, when Kendi had walked into the foyer, looking pale and ashen, Ben had wanted to grab him and never let go. He had restrained himself just in time. It wouldn’t do any good. Their relationship wouldn’t work. Ben had let himself stay in it for too long as it was.

Ara’s door still stood in front of him, and Ben realized he was stalling. Firmly, he pressed the door chime.

“Who is it?” came Ara’s tired voice over the intercom.

“It’s me, Mother. Can I come in?”

The door slid open and Ben entered. As Captain and Mother Adept, Ara commanded quarters larger than anyone else’s, but, in contrast to Kendi’s spartan room, all available space was filled. Bookshelves were crammed with thousands of book disks. Two large desks, each with its own high-powered terminal, lined opposing walls. Someone had managed to squeeze a tiny galley off to one side. Rugs and weavings hid the gray ceramic walls and floor with bright colors and designs. A pair of easy chairs had been tucked into the corners, and the air was tinted with the sweet smell of lingering incense. Ara was seated at one of the desks. The terminal was active, but Ara had swiveled in her chair to face the door.

“Hi,” she said. “I was meaning to tell you-good work on the search today. We couldn’t have tracked Sejal without you.”

Ben shrugged and sat in one of the easy chairs. “When are you going to go get him?”

“Soon,” Ara replied, and turned back to her terminal.

“Mother,” Ben said, deciding just to plunge in and get it over with, “what’s bothering you? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“It’s a tense situation. The Unity Silent are aware of the boy, and we need to move quickly tomorrow.” Ara tapped at the console. Numbers and text flashed by too quickly for Ben to read, but he got the impression it wasn’t anything important, that Ara just wanted to appear busy.

Ben switched tactics. “Kendi’s worried about you.”

“And I’m worried about him.” Ara blanked the screen and turned again. “Has he said anything to you about prison?”