Rainscape Read online

Trying to suppress a grin, Dina took in his appearance as well. She never tired of looking at him. He was tall and well-built, but none of his attributes could compare to his eyes. They were the purest green she had ever seen, no touch of hazel or gray, so translucent she swore she could see through them. They were set off by thick lashes and brows several shades darker than his hair, and this morning Dina was glad to see their sparkle back. She was more pleased by Jon’s remark than she was willing to admit, even to herself.

  “Thanks. Let’s hope Minister Chandhel is suitably impressed as well.” She sat down opposite Jon at the small table and leaned forward.

  “You’ve run diagnostic tests on your recorders?” asked Jon between sips of his mocava.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. It’ll be interesting to see who else we meet. So far, the checks on Chandhel and Katzfiel show them coming up clean. Neither has any documented telepathic ability, so you should be able to discreetly probe both of them. I’ll try to do most of the talking to allow you to concentrate on the probes. Let’s hope there are no surprises.”

  Dina nodded, but had a feeling that surprises were inevitable. When the AEA had first contacted the IIB, only the basic facts regarding the murders had been forwarded. Therefore, research aboard their ship had focused on the study of Exodus, its history, the mining of exodite, Mother Lode Mining Consolidated, and their contacts, Chandhel and Katzfiel.

  “Nervous?” asked Jon, with a smile.

  “A little, I guess. Mostly excited.”

  “That’s natural. I remember my first out-planet assignment. I was excited, too, then proceeded to make one mistake after another. It’s a wonder that case was ever cleared.” He laughed, and the famous Rzije dimples popped into view. “Hey, mistakes happen. Let’s just try to keep them to a minimum, okay? Well, any questions?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then we’re ready. I’ll call the good corporal.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the ever-smiling Corporal Khilioi arrived, and they followed him to the hugger. The sides of the clear bubble roof glided over them, and Dina felt strangely closed in. She leaned forward. “Corporal, can we travel with the top open? The temperature seems pleasant enough.”

  “As you wish. Tolerable now, but don’t be fooled. Temperature increases rapidly during the morning hours. Here, hang on to these while you’re on Exodus. You’ll need them any time you’re outside during daylight hours; otherwise, you’ll burn.” Khilioi handed them sunshields, opened the top, and accelerated the hugger smoothly.

  Dina took the offered sunshield, put it on, and enjoyed the soft morning light before she turned her attention to business, hitting the environmental data button of her recorder. She quickly scanned the readings. Outside air temperature was much hotter than Dina was used to on the temperate world of Glacia with its many oceans and lakes. There was some wind here, but not strong, and humidity was extremely low. Dina knew from her research that this was an enhanced atmosphere, boosted to acceptable human levels by the original colonizers.

  They passed the same structures they had the night before, but the feeling of the city was completely different in the soft morning light. Mirrored walls that faced east blushed orange and yellow and winked at the rising sun.

  They arrived at the Aeternan Administration Center, a cubic building with a large triangular entrance of pink glass brick. They went through the usual security checks and were shown to an antechamber that contained chairs, two small tables, and a reception desk. An attractive woman with short dark hair stood and greeted them.

  “Welcome to Exodus. We’ve been eagerly anticipating your arrival. I’m Maris Iridino, Minister Chandhel’s personal assistant. Can I bring you some iced mocava?”

  “Yes, thank you, Miss Iridino,” replied Jon, his dimples showcasing white teeth that flashed when he smiled at her.

  Her pasted-on professional smile widened, even ascending to her eyes. “Call me Maris, please,” she breathed.

  Maris, draped in a jade sleeveless dress which brushed the floor, glided from the room. Dina glanced at Jon, whose eyes had followed every move Maris had made. Dina smiled to herself. He was good, no doubt about it.

  Dina slid her gaze from Jon and glanced around the room. The walls were cream, the chairs a dark champagne gold. Bright panels of silk in green, burgundy, cream, and gold hung from one wall, and a framed floral depicting large burgundy blooms hung on the wall over the desk. Constructed completely of glass, it was unlike anything Dina had ever seen.

  Maris floated into the room balancing a tray on one arm, and with a sweep set it noiselessly down. As Jon reached for the drinks, Dina lightly probed the woman’s mind. The probe was quick and not deep, but Dina detected nothing incongruous with Maris’s outward projection.

  Years ago Dina had addressed the moral questions raised by probing the minds of others. After a period of soul searching, she had devised a set of guidelines she followed to this day. She was still unable to answer the question of whether probing the mind of another without his or her knowledge was morally right or wrong, but the guidelines enabled Dina, without guilt or remorse, to probe others as part of her job.

  “Dina’s Rules,” as she had come to think of them, were simple. She never probed deeper than was necessary. Other than to a partner such as Jon, she never discussed with others what a probe revealed, and even then she discussed only what was relevant to the assignment. Her final rationalization was that her ability aided her job performance, which was to solve violent crimes and bring criminals to justice, and therefore was a necessity.

  Jon took one of the cups for himself and handed one to Dina. She sipped at the sweet, refreshing drink.

  “Very good,” she said to Maris, smiling.

  “I noticed you admiring our artwork. You’ll find some of the finest glasswork in the galaxy on Exodus. We have silica in abundance here, and not only a large glass factory in the city, but true artists, too. I also see you have one of our stones. That’s quite a good quality stone, and an unusual setting.”

  “Thank you,” Dina replied. The woman didn’t miss much, she thought, glancing again at Jon. She didn’t have to probe him to know the same thought was running through his head. That was her last “rule.” She didn’t probe partners unless an emergency dictated it.

  The console chimed. “Excuse me, please,” said Maris, again wafting from the room.

  Dina put her mocava down and prepared her mind for the mental connection she would soon make. There was no time for her full preparation exercise, so she made do with the abbreviated version. Normally she did this when she was alone, but she trusted Jon and knew he wouldn’t interrupt her. She closed her eyes and began breathing slowly, deeply, and deliberately.

  Next, she visualized a ray of red light, concentrating with her mind’s eye until the color was clear, bright, and exactly the shade she wanted, not tinged with yellow or blue, but clean and pure, like light through the finest ruby. She imagined each color of the spectrum in turn—orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The process took three minutes, and by the time Dina finished, her mind was clear and relaxed, and she knew she had achieved her basic psychic level.

  A moment later Maris returned and motioned for them. “Please come this way. Minister Chandhel is ready for you.”

  Dina and Jon followed her into the next chamber, a conference room which, despite its lack of windows, was airy and bright. Pitchers of ice water and tall, fluted crystal goblets graced each side of the large triangular table that dominated the room. A glass floral arrangement similar to the one on the anteroom wall decorated the center of the table and trailed crystalline tendrils. One wall held a large map of Aeternus, the opposite wall a map of the desert and mountain areas of Exodus surrounding Aeternus. The wall behind the point of the triangle was as white and blank as a diary page yet to be written.

  M
inister Chandhel and Commander Katzfiel rose as Jon and Dina entered, and formal greetings were exchanged. Each in turn gave a small bow, their hands held over their hearts.

  “Please sit and be comfortable,” said the minister. “If there’s anything you require, let us know.”

  “Specialist Rzije, Specialist Marlijn, we are at your disposal,” said Katzfiel in a brusque tone which almost negated the meaning of his words.

  Dina’s feeling of discomfort deepened to dislike, and she decided to probe him first. Jon and Dina sat at the base of the triangle, Minister Chandhel and Maris occupied the second side, and the Commander sat alone along the third.

  Chandhel spoke first. “I know you were briefed when you received this assignment, and I realize you learned much last night, but allow me to sum up all that has transpired. As you know, this is primarily a mining colony. Construction of the city and the mines began twelve years ago after enhancement of the atmosphere was completed. Originally the Synergy meant this to be a penal colony, but discovery of exodite during the primary geological surveys quickly changed that. The Synergy granted mining rights to Mother Lode Mining, who, of course, pays for these rights. Mother Lode handles all mining operations, including the hiring of all mining personnel.”

  The Minister halted, looked down, and took two sips of water before continuing. “A little over seven months ago, a miner was found murdered outside Kewero Kel, the northern mine. The miner, Dais Johnter, had his skull fractured. As with Samek, there were no witnesses found, nor has a motive been discovered. Since then there have been seven more murders, two of which have happened since you were contacted. All the victims have been miners, and all were found with their skulls crushed, just the way you saw last night. Immediately following the discovery of the first victim, the spaceport was closed to outgoing departures. Shipments of goods, including exodite, have continued, but no one has been allowed to leave Exodus.”

  As the Minister spoke, three-dimensional images appeared against the screen of the blank wall, first of exodite—both raw and cut and polished—then an exterior view of Kewero Kel, followed by a holo of Dais Johnter. The image was startling in its realism. He was a middle-aged man, with short salt-and-pepper hair and slate blue eyes which held a humor and intelligence apparent even in what was obviously an ID holo. The holo was projected only an arm’s length from Katzfiel, and Dina, shifting her gaze between the two, was hard-pressed to tell which man was alive and which man was not. The holos were distracting to Dina’s probes, and she wished Chandhel hadn’t opted for the elaborate media presentation.

  “As you can imagine, Mother Lode protested very strongly to the Synergy, alleging the Synergy has been negligent in its administration and has not provided adequate security for the colony’s protection. In addition to the murdered miners, Mother Lode has lost quite a few other employees. Many miners, especially those with families, have broken their contracts and quit. The company has had difficulty hiring new workers, even with the promise of large sign-on bonuses. With fewer miners, less exodite is exported, and Mother Lode’s profits go down.”

  The Minister paused. “Mother Lode’s Executive Director, Jai Hwa-lik, has informed us that if the murderer is not stopped by the end of the current year, they will bring a suit against the Synergy. The suit will no doubt be for millions, and given our history, they have a very good chance of winning. That gives us about thirty days. Commander, if you will fill our friends in on the investigation.”

  Commander Katzfiel leaned back in his chair, as if to give himself the broadest view of his audience. There was nothing at the table in front of him to distract him. “All details regarding the investigation are, of course, at your disposal. We’ve done extensive background checks on all the victims. Autopsies were performed on each, of course. Dr. Lumazi can give you that information. Feel free to contact her any time. We’ve interviewed everyone connected with Mother Lode who is on-planet, including all miners.”

  Dina watched the Commander’s eyes as he spoke. The colorless orbs continued to disconcert her. Like a doll’s, she thought, staring but giving no clue to what they were seeing.

  “Excuse me, Commander. How many AEA personnel have you on-planet?” asked Jon.

  “We have eighteen altogether. They’ve logged hundreds of hours of overtime on this investigation.”

  “The question was not a criticism, Commander. I’m sure your people have done everything possible.”

  Katzfiel glanced at Chandhel, who shifted in his seat and reached again for his water, downing the liquid this time in a gulp instead of a sip. Could it be that Katzfiel had that effect on everyone? Or was there something more, Dina wondered. The Minister cleared his throat and continued. Dina shifted her probe from the Commander to Chandhel.

  “There were several developments on Exodus prior to the start of the murders which may be relevant. We are not proud of what happened, but have done our best to make amends. The first minister of Exodus, Avvis Ranchar, was a greedy man. He filled most positions in his administration with friends and relatives who paid him smartly for his favors. Many of these men were also greedy, and corruption quickly spread. Contraband was smuggled in, undeclared goods were shipped out.”

  Chandhel hesitated, as if reluctant to continue. “Worst of all, procedures for approving and clearing arrivals of outworlders became very lax. Word quickly spread amongst neighboring worlds, and soon every undesirable with nowhere to go came to Exodus. Some were on the run from enforcement agencies. Some just wanted the opportunity to get rich quick from any illegal means possible. But, by far the most dangerous were the dark outworlders—those banned by virtue of their dangerous genetic predispositions, or the ideology of their homeworlds.”

  Dina looked at Jon and caught his eye. She looked back at Chandhel. “Minister, who do you mean specifically?”

  “It consists of a broad group, including shapeshifters, the cannibals of Onipherus, the dens of Deorcas Tron, the mantis of Etesia . . .”

  “Excuse me, Minister. Do you have knowledge that individuals from the specific groups you named actually arrived here?” asked Dina.

  “Yes. Let’s see . . . we captured several of the Onipherans and mantis. Of those I named, the shapeshifters and the dens would be most difficult to apprehend. We have only suspicions they are here.”

  Gods, thought Dina, dens here on Exodus. Her gaze flicked to Jon again. It was a possibility she hadn’t previously considered. She knew relatively little about shapeshifters, Onipherans, or the mantis, but she knew a great deal about the telepathic Deorcan dens. She hated the dens.

  She looked at Jon now with eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. He gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand below the table’s surface.

  Jon asked the next question. “Minister, why was the situation as such on Exodus tolerated so long? Surely a new colony is scrutinized more closely?”

  “We’re talking about a relatively short period of time. Ranchar knew how to beat the system, so to speak. Reports were sent on schedule, and Mother Lode was showing profits. It took a while to determine there was a problem, then an investigation was begun to determine the root of the problem and how far the corruption had spread. By then the damage had been done.”

  Dina had been gently probing Chandhel. Thus far he seemed to be what he appeared, a conscientious man in a difficult position, trying to do his best. Yet Dina sensed he had not told them everything.

  “Minister, you stated there were several developments which may impact our investigation. Is there more?”

  Chandhel adjusted his robe. He glanced at Katzfiel, who sat leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. The strange, pale eyes stared from beneath hooded lids, and his mouth was drawn as taut as a tightrope.

  “Yes . . . there are the Desert Dailjan,” said Chandhel, looking back at Jon and Dina with a sigh.

  Dailjan? It was an o
ld Glacian word, the meaning of which was just out of Dina’s reach. Too many surprises. “Who . . . what are the Desert Dailjan?” she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

  “It’s an old word, meaning ‘leftovers.’ Someone coined the phrase years ago, and it stuck. Even the Dailjan themselves use the term, somewhat haughtily, I think, given its derogatory connotation. ‘Leftovers’ is an apt term, indeed. They’re the misfits of Aeternan society, living where no decent person would choose to live, in the desert. The Dailjan are a highly organized and very efficient band of men and women who live beyond the mines. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to find out much about them. That is to say, we haven’t found out much reliable information. Rumors, on the other hand, abound.”

  Chandhel paused and fixed a baleful eye on Katzfiel, who returned the minister’s cool stare with his own i cy gaze.

  Dina flicked her gaze back and forth between the two men, their interaction as interesting to her as their words.

  Chandhel cleared his throat and turned to Jon and Dina. “The Uz-Dailjan, their leader, is said to be some sort of sorcerer, who is looked upon as very nearly a god by the people of the desert. The AEA has sent numerous agents into the desert to question members of the Dailjan, but the agents return with little information.”

  Katzfiel’s expression remained unchanged, his pale eyes showing supreme indifference.

  “Who are they exactly?” asked Dina. “The Dailjan, I mean. The undesirables who arrived during Ranchar’s reign?”

  “We don’t know precisely. We suspect it’s a varied group, consisting of some of the dark outworlders, deserters from the mines, and those who, after the change of administration, found themselves without a job and nowhere else to go.”

  Jon’s eyes met Dina’s. “These Desert Dailjan sound like a significant group. I don’t quite understand how it is you know so little about them,” he said, turning back to Chandhel.

  It was Katzfiel who answered. “As I said before, we have a small number of enforcement personnel here. The Dailjan are not quite the bloodthirsty outlaws you seem to perceive them to be. They trade fairly for food and supplies, don’t raid settlements, set upon travelers, or sabotage the mines. They are, in fact, quite peaceful. Since there have been almost no complaints made against the Dailjan, it has not been a priority to send a large force out into the desert to round them up.”