Fragile Hope E-Book

R.S. Penney

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

As the SuperGates open, civilizations once separated by unimaginable distances can now interact for the first time. And of course, what follows is tension.

In a desperate attempt to preserve the fragile peace, Antaur calls a summit to discuss a potential alliance with Leyria. Jack Hunter and Anna Lenai are assigned to protect the delegation from mercenaries loyal to Admiral Telixa Ethran.

Melissa Carlson investigates a growing fascist movement on Leyria, hoping that her world can change course before it's too late. Meanwhile, her father, Harry Carlson, is tested like he has never been tested before.

Leseprobe

FRAGILE HOPE

JUSTICE KEEPERS SAGA BOOK IX

R. S. PENNEY

CONTENTS

Prologue

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Interlude

Part II

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2021 R.S. Penney

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Cover art by CoverMint

Edited by Jourdan Vian and Gregg Chambers

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

PROLOGUE

Admiral Telixa Ethran peered through a large window that looked out on a field of stars against the eternal darkness of space. A darkness that was broken only by a cloud of blue gas that made an almost diagonal line from corner to corner. The Ra'toh Nebula was less than a lightyear away, and yet it loomed like a demon. The nearest Class-2 SlipGate was located there, which meant they could be surrounded by Leyrian ships in a matter of moments.

Telixa stood in a busy corridor with a black-tiled floor, her posture stiff, her hands clasped behind her back. People rushed past her, going this way and that, but she paid no mind to their hushed voices or muffled footsteps. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

“Admiral.”

Lifting her chin, Telixa felt her expression harden. She narrowed her eyes. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” With exquisite precision, she turned on her heel to face the young woman who had spoken.

Lieutenant Saera Ladon was short and petite with a pale complexion and red hair that she wore tucked under her gray officer's cap. The woman kept her gaze fixed on the floor tiles. “They're ready for you, ma'am.”

It was a short walk through a crowded hallway to reach the meeting room. Officers in gray uniforms saluted as she passed, and she favoured them with a glance or a nod, but she could not have named them. Not even one. So distracted was she that she would not have recognized her oldest childhood friend even if Lina Jhalia stood right in front of her.

A set of double doors opened into a room that was dominated by a large table in the shape of a crescent moon. The men and women who sat along the outer perimeter of that table all wore epaulettes that marked them as members of the Admiralty.

“Telixa,” Roan Divol said, rising from his chair. He was tall and well-muscled, but ten years behind a desk had gifted him with a bit of a paunch. His dark hair was marked by wings of gray over each ear. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Would any of you have delayed when summoned by the Admiralty Board?” Her curtness could be off-putting – Telixa knew that – but she was not the sort of person to engage in idle pleasantries.

Standing at attention with gloved hands balled into fists, Telixa nodded once. “Let's get to it then, shall we?” That made a few of them stiffen. Good. “When we learned about the Class-2 SlipGates, I recommended a policy of reconnaissance and observation.”

Telixa dropped into the nearest chair, crossing one leg over the other and running her gaze over the lot of them. “I now believe that the time has come for a more proactive approach.”

Admiral Toran Jaal, a dark-skinned man with a ring of thin, gray hair, drummed his fingers on the table. “Are you suggesting war?”

“I'm suggesting that we consider planetary security.”

At Telixa's command, the space station's central computer displayed a holographic representation of her battle with the Leyrians. Small fighters swarmed around her battlecruiser like angry hornets, each one spitting green or orange plasma. Shields flickered as they were struck.

“Until recently, our only contact with the Leyrians was in the form of long-range communications through the SlipGate Network. Based on their attitudes and their endless pleas for a cultural exchange, we assumed them to be a planet of pacifists with very little in the way of military technology. Easily conquered and no threat to anyone.”

Several of the admirals frowned at that; a few of them exchanged furtive glances. She knew some of them well. Others, however, were not much more than strangers. Dral Sovon would almost certainly favour an aggressive posture. Military might was a source of pride for the Ragnosian people; Dral was the sort who would not suffer a rival.

On the other hand, Rob Ixalon was all but guaranteed to advise caution. She could already hear his objections. A costly war with a reasonable chance of defeat should not be entered lightly.

Telixa stood up, facing them all with her hands folded behind herself, pursing her lips as she chose her next words. “We were wrong,” she said at last. “Leyrian technology is comparable to our own. Even superior in some cases.”

Admiral Jaal leaned back with his hands on the chair arms, appraising her. Was she supposed to wilt under his scrutiny? Any inclination to do so had been squelched a very long time ago. One did not learn the ways of command without developing a thick skin. “You will forgive me if I am hesitant to agree,” he said. “A lost battle, while unfortunate, is more indicative of a poor commander than it is of an unbeatable enemy.”

Perhaps that was supposed to rile her.

Crossing her arms, Telixa backed away until she was leaning against the wall. She shook her head slowly. “How little you understand the danger.” It was a biting comment but no worse than what Jaal had offered. “Computer, display footage from Cell Thirteen.”

The hologram rippled, fading away, and then a new one appeared in its place. This one showed Jack Hunter holding one of her security officers in an armlock and throwing the man face-first into a wall.

Several of the Admirals sat up straight as they watched another one of her officers step into the frame only to receive a kick to the belly from Hunter. The traitorous Novol Raan. Telixa would see him executed sooner or later. She took betrayal very personally.

“What are you implying?” That came from Admiral Jessi Vataro, a tall woman with dark eyes that were just a little too big, giving her a somewhat child-like appearance. “If the countermeasures that Slade provided are insufficient…”

Countermeasures.

They referred to creatures that had once been living, breathing and thinking human beings as “countermeasures.” Military officers did love their euphemisms. Perhaps it was the only way to ease the distasteful nature of what their jobs entailed.

Telixa stepped forward, held the other woman's gaze for a moment, and then let the ghost of a smile play across her lips. “These Justice Keepers disabled an entire deck of my ship,” she said. “They attacked critical systems, outmaneuvered security teams, battle drones and even Slade's pet. They are experts in the field of infiltration, and we have no way of measuring their number. If that doesn't frighten you, you are a fool.”

“Then what do you propose?” Roan Divol inquired.

“Computer,” Telixa said. “File Ethran 7B.”

A massive hologram of Leyria filled the space between the two prongs of the table. It was a lush world of green continents and blue oceans. Thin, white clouds drifted over mountain ranges, grassy lowlands, forests and cities.

A purple moon swung around the planet in a slightly elliptical orbit, turning slowly on its axis. “Our target should not be Leyria itself,” Telixa began. “But rather its primary moon: Laras.”

The moon grew larger and larger, pushing Leyria out of the way until it filled the space that its mother planet had occupied just a moment earlier. Through the thin, purple atmosphere, she could see craters and jagged rock formations on the surface. There were brief flashes, like lightning in storm clouds, but she knew them for what they really were.

“Laras is home to a strange species,” Telixa went on. “Organic cells permeate the atmosphere and communicate by electrical currents. Individually, they are…Well, they're nothing but cells. But together, they form a collective intelligence unlike anything that we have encountered before.

“The Leyrians have dubbed them 'Nassai,' and it is these Nassai that give the Justice Keepers their incredible power.”

Everyone looked nervous; they knew where she was going with this. Telixa forced herself to press on anyway. “Eliminating these Nassai is our primary objective. Sustained gamma-ray bursts should be enough to render the moon lifeless.”

Jessi Vataro shot out of her chair, her cheeks colouring as she watched the spinning moon. “You're talking about genocide!” she spat. “These Nassai are no threat to us.”

“But their masters are.”

“I will not take part in the extinction of an entire species.”

Telixa ignored her, opting instead to turn away from the others, and walked over to the door. She paused there, glancing back over her shoulder. “The Leyrians will make an adequate workforce, once they are properly civilized.”

“I see,” Admiral Jaal put in. “And you believe this to be a necessary step to ensure planetary security?”

With a quick about-face, Telixa rounded on them and strode back to the table. “I do indeed,” she said. “So, the question is: Do we have the stomach to do what is necessary? There's no way to covertly place ships in the Leyrian System. They'll detect our approach before we get within a dozen lightyears of their world.”

The hologram rippled as she walked through it, and then Telixa bent over with her hands on the table, staring Admiral Jaal right in the face. He recoiled as if he thought she might bite his nose off. “Which means any attempt to enter Leyrian Space would be an open declaration of war.”

The Queensboro Bridge stretched over the East River, its metal framework catching the light of a sinking that was just starting to dip behind the skyscrapers of Manhattan. A few boats were out on the river, but they were too far off to see him.

In cargo pants and a denim jacket, Nate stood with his arms crossed, his brown hair cut short. “So,” he said. “You got my money?”

The man who cowered against the metal railing that overlooked the river refused to make eye-contact. And Nate really couldn't blame him. Robbie was a skinny dude with pale skin, short dark hair and a mole on his cheek. “Half of it.”

“Half?”

“Okay, almost half.”

Tossing his head back, Nate felt creases lining his brow. “Gotta say, Robbie,” he began. “Things aren't lookin' good for you.”

Robbie flinched as if someone had waved a knife in his face and pressed his body even harder against the railing. The sound of his heavy breathing was so loud it should have drawn a crowd of people.

Except there were no people.

The strange creature that had bonded with him had given Nate eyes in the back of his head. He could sense the buildings behind him, trees along the sidewalk and even the odd person walking by. No one was close enough to pay him much attention.

He stepped forward, grabbing Robbie's shirt, pulling the man close so they were almost nose to nose. His lips parted to show clenched teeth. “I hooked you up with some damn good stuff.”

Robbie turned his face away, a tear leaking from the corner of his eye. He was shivering; he knew perfectly well what Nate could do. “So,” Nate continued. “I'm giving you two weeks to pay me or-”

He shut up right quick when he sensed a silhouette coming up behind him. As the figure got closer, he could tell that it was a small woman with long hair. Now, what did this bitch want? Nate would gut her right here and now if he hadn't spent the last nine months trying to stay off the Keepers' radar. He knew what his powers were, and he knew what those god damn aliens would do if they got their hands on him.

“Is this what passes for a suitable host these days?”

Releasing Robbie, Nate whirled around to find the woman standing just behind a bench that faced the river. She was short and slender and kind of hot in a white sundress with thin straps.

She had a round face, olive skin and long dark hair that fell to her shoulder-blades. “Harassing street vermin,” she said. “Can you think of no better use of your power?”

“Who the hell are you?”

She stepped forward with a sexy smile that made him want to cut that dress off her body and actually reached up to lay a hand on his cheek. Instinct told Nate that he should have pulled away, but he allowed it.

Closing his eyes, Nate breathed deeply as he savored the warm touch of her hand on his skin. “All right,” he muttered. “You got guts, lady. I'll give you that. Now tell me what you want.”

“Concentrate,” she said. “Focus on the sensations you get from your symbiont. Do not think. Just feel…”

There was something about her…Something strange. The creature Nate had Bonded was reacting to her in some way. No…No, it was reacting to another of its kind. This lady had one too! Was she a Justice Keeper?

“Who are you?”

He opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him, and to his shock, she stood up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “I'm called Valeth,” she said. “And I'm pleased to see that the rumors are true. You inherited Flagg's symbiont.”

“Who?”

“All will be explained to you in time.”

Valeth snapped her fingers.

Some Asian dude who had been leaning against a streetlight on the sidewalk heard the noise and came stomping up behind her. He reached up to lower his sunglasses so he could peek over the rims. “Forget what you have seen here.”

Nate looked about in confusion.

Only then did he remember Robbie, and when he turned around, the dumb-ass was slumped against the railing with a dull glaze in his eyes and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth.

“Forget,” the Asian guy said. “And never trouble Nathaniel again.”

Just like that, Robbie shuffled off with his hands in the pockets of his sweater and his head bowed. Nate had never seen anything like it. He'd heard rumors about telepaths and the strange things they could do, but they were supposed to live on Leyria or Antaur or one of the other worlds that he couldn't pronounce. They weren't supposed to be living here on Earth.

Baring his teeth, Nate turned his gaze on the strange woman. “That guy owes me a lot of money,” he whispered. “You should have told him to pay me before you sent him away.”

Valeth smiled up at him, and for a moment, he thought she meant to pay Robbie's debt in a way that would almost make up for the lost cash. Then she chuckled and turned away from him. “The time has come for you to embrace a grander view of the universe.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come with me. Together, we will discover your true potential.”

The soft patter of rain on her living-room window was soothing. Almost soothing enough to put her to sleep, but every time she started to drift, stress pulled her right back to full consciousness. Her Nassai was beginning to worry.

Curled up on the couch in a tightly-belted maroon robe, Larani pressed her cheek into the pillow and tried to rest. For once, she had allowed herself to go home early. She had planned on curling up with a good book, but the fatigue made her want to just sit and do nothing.

She rolled onto her back, scrubbed a hand over her face and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Yes, I know,” she whispered for the symbiont. “I should get some sleep.”

It wasn't easy.

The pile of things that demanded her attention just seemed to keep growing. Now there were rumors of people with Keeper abilities hijacking ships on the Fringe. Slade's people, no doubt. She had ordered two of her best teams to investigate, but so far, they had found no answers.

Agent Hunter's recent encounter with the Ragnosians left her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Sub-Council on Planetary Security was still trying to decide just how much of that story should be released to the general public. Things were already tense enough without inflaming the xenophobes who would use news of Ragnosian ships on this side of the galaxy as justification for their vitriol.

Speaking of xenophobia, Dusep's popularity was rising. The latest poll numbers all said that he had a strong chance of winning over a quarter of the electorate. Just ten short years ago, a man who displayed such open hostility to foreigners would never have found mainstream acceptance. There was little chance of him defeating Sarona Vason, but little chance was not no chance.

She kept thinking that she ought to be doing something to stop that man's rise to power, but politics was not her province. The Justice Keepers protected the innocent; they did not set public policy. Jack kept insisting that he had an idea, but he was dragging his feet in doing whatever it was he intended to do. So far, Larani had decided not to push him. After his ordeal last month, he needed rest.

On the coffee table, her multi-tool beeped.

“Answer call,” Larani mumbled. “Audio only.”

It surprised her when the Prime Council's voice came through the speaker. Sarona Vason had a curt way of speaking that made you want to sit up and pay attention. “Larani, I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

A yawn stretched Larani's mouth, a yawn that she covered with the palm of one hand. Her eyes dropped shut despite her best efforts. “Not at all,” she said. “What can I do for you, Prime Council?”

“Turn on the video,” Sarona barked. “I want to see you.”

Standing up with a sigh, Larani tied her belt even tighter and then nodded. “Allow video call,” she said. “Holographic display.”

The ghostly figure of an older woman in gray pants and a smart jacket appeared above her coffee table. Sarona Vason had a stern but kindly face of dark skin. Her short, curly hair had gone white a very long time ago. “My apologies,” she said when she saw Larani. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”

“No disturbance. What can I do for you?”

“My office just received an interesting message from the Antaurans,” Sarona began. “It seems they want to talk peace.”

Standing before the other woman with her arms folded, Larani shook her head. “We have made countless attempts to bring them to the negotiating table,” she said. “And they have ignored every one. What changed?”

The Prime Council shut her eyes and let out a slow breath. “I wish I could say,” she replied at last. “Their message was rather short and to the point. They have extended an invitation to a summit that they hope will result in a formal alliance between Leyria and Antaur.”

“To what end?”

“I don't know,” Sarona replied. “But it wouldn't surprise me if the Ragnosians have been encroaching on their territory as well.”

Hunching up her shoulders as a shiver ran down her spine, Larani nodded. “Better the devil that you know…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“An Earth saying,” Larani clarified. “Whatever animosity they may feel for us, the Antaurans know that we will leave them alone. The Ragnosians, on the other hand, have made numerous aggressive actions.”

The Prime Council turned and began pacing a line, though the hologram remained fixed in place. “Yes, that was my assessment as well,” she said. “And there is one other thing. The Antaurans have invited Earth.”

“Earth?”

“I received confirmation from the United Nations Security Council this morning. As you've no doubt surmised, we'll be sending a delegation of Keepers to accompany the Diplomatic Corps. I want Lenai and Hunter to be part of that delegation.”

Larani sat down on the couch with fingertips covering her mouth, her eyebrows slowly rising. “That could be a problem,” she said. “The boy has a head for politics, but he's unpredictable and disdainful of rules he doesn't like.”

“A typical Keeper then.”

“Lenai, on the other hand, is one of the most talented investigators I've ever seen.” Sarona's withering glare made it clear that she wasn't interested in Larani's objections, but Larani pressed on anyway. “But she's blunt. One glimpse of the way Antaurans treat the disabled as second-class citizens, and she will almost certainly say something to upset the talks. It may be wiser to send more seasoned officers.”

Sarona whirled around to face the camera with her fists on her hips, and before the woman uttered one word, Larani knew the argument was over. “Those two represent one of our greatest accomplishments,” she said. “The first Earther to Bond a Nassai and the woman who brought him into the fold. They're a symbol, one that we very much need if these talks are to have any chance of success.”

“I suppose I can't argue with that.”

“Good,” Sarona said. “Then have them prepped. They'll be leaving in a few days.”

PARTI

1

A light drizzle splashed against the cafe window, blurring Harry's view of the street outside. There were people hurrying along with umbrellas and the odd automated car that zipped past, but it was mostly quiet.

Harry sat back with a cup of tea in one hand, steam wafting up to carry the scent of peppermint to his nose. “This is nice,” he said. “You know, we don't do this often enough. When was the last time you and I got caught up?”

Jack sat across from him with hands folded behind his head, smiling lazily. “Oh, probably right before your daughter's birthday party,” he answered. “We don't really hang out enough.”

Except for the two of them, the cafe was empty: just a couple dozen round tables spread without a single patron in sight. One of those cylindrical maintenance bots rolled past to polish the floor, but other than that, they were alone. Harry paid the damn thing no mind. He was less bothered by robots when they weren't in his house.

“So, how are things?”

Jack cast a glance out the window, seemingly distracted by something he saw out on the street. “Well, now that she's all moved in,” he began, “Anna's in full nesting mode. I think she said something about needing more closet space.”

“And you're-”

“Loving every minute of it.”

“Oh, really?”

Covering his mouth with his fist, Jack shut his eyes and cleared his throat. “But you see,” he said. “Obligatory standards of masculinity require that I make a pretense of mild exasperation. Please sign the form as witness to my having done my due diligence.”

“Signed and witnessed.”

Harry cradled his cup in both hands, inhaling the sweet aroma. Cautiously, he lifted it and slurped as he took a sip. The tea was still a bit too hot for his liking, but better that than too cold.

When he looked up, Jack was watching him with that squint-eyed stare every cop learned after enough time on the Force. “Come to think of it,” he said. “I'm surprised you haven't given me the Dad Talk.”

“The Dad Talk?”

“You know: 'It's too soon. You've only been dating for a few months. Rock music attained perfection in 1967. Have you heard of Jethro Tull?'”

Of course, Jack's mind would go there. Sometimes Harry wondered why he hadn't gone insane now that most of his friends were barely more than half his age. Moving to Leyria had been…an educational experience. It bothered him that the others saw him as a bit of a stick in the mud. Did kids these days still use the phrase 'stick in the mud?' After all this time, Jack still didn't understand him. Not completely.

Harry was smiling into his lap, shaking his head slowly. “Kid, I thought you knew me better than that,” he said. “You and Anna have been in love for five damn years. So, you're finally doing something about it? My response is, 'It's about damn time.'”

Besides, Harry Carlson was in no position to lecture anyone about their relationship choices. Not when he and Sora were sneaking around like a couple of teenagers. A pang of guilt flared up when he thought about the implications of dating his daughter's teacher, but the sneaking only made it more exciting.

Jack studied him again, the cop-stare returning with renewed intensity. So, this was how it felt to be on the wrong side of an interrogation table. Huh… “Yeah, I'm not buying it,” Jack said. “What's going on, Harry?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh…”

Harry was blushing now, and he felt the slight tingle of sweat on his brow. “I'm just glad that you and Anna are happy.” Damn it! There was no way in hell Jack wouldn't see right through that pathetic response.

The kid leaned back with his arms folded, smiling like a father who had just heard about his son's first crush. “Do you have a girlfriend, Harry?”

“No.”

“What's her name?”

“Shut up!”

Much to Harry's annoyance, Jack folded up in his seat and trembled with laughter. “Okay then,” he wheezed. “Well, you just tell Shut Up that I'll be eager to meet her just as soon as she's ready.”

Harry groaned. Why did they always do this to him? First with Jena and now with Sora. Everybody seemed to find a perverse amount of entertainment in his reluctance to openly acknowledge a relationship. Well, maybe Harry would feel differently if he didn't keep getting into relationships that required a certain amount of discretion.

Oh, Jena had been more than willing to acknowledge their connection. In fact, she had struggled to understand why Harry had such a hard time doing so. Well, if you were going to engage in an office romance – a bad idea at the best of times – the very last thing you should do was let your colleagues in on the secret. No one wanted to be the subject of water-cooler gossip.

And now, he was dating Sora. Say what you will about office romances, but at least there had been no conflict of interest in his relationship with Jena. Harry could not say the same about dating his daughter's teacher.

Only then did he notice that Jack was looking out the window again. Hell, the poor kid seemed downright perplexed. Something was eating away at him.

Slouching in his chair with a hand over his chest, Harry pursed his lips as he looked up at the ceiling. “Okay, now it's my turn,” he said. “Spill it, Kid. What's on your mind?”

The corner of Jack's mouth twitched, but he never turned his gaze away from the window. Hard little droplets of rain pounded the glass. “What makes you think there's something on my mind?”

“I've seen that look before.”

Jack crossed his arms, hunching over the table and barking a laugh. He shook his head. “There's no look, Harry.” Of course, he was lying. You didn't spend fifteen years interrogating criminals without developing a sense for these things.

Harry lifted his cup in one hand, sipping his tea. All the while, he let his own cop-stare linger on Jack. “Now, who's paddling up Bullshit River?” he said at last. “Trust me, kid; I know that look.”

“And what look is that?”

“The look of every detective who wants to pull his hair out because he just can't see how the clues fit together.” Harry waited a moment, and then added, “The look of a good officer who just saw a scumbag walk on a technicality.”

When Jack finally looked up, he blinked several times and then sighed. “Okay,” he said. “You're right. There is something on my mind, but I don't think you can help.”

“Try me.”

“Nah,” Jack said. “Let's just go.”

Harry's first instinct was to protest, but he was old and – in this case – wise enough to know that when someone didn't want to talk, you couldn't force the issue. So, he just nodded and finished his tea.

Once they were out on the street, the rain seemed to pick up a little, falling hard on Harry's big black umbrella. It was a spoke-street, one that ran all the way to the SlipGate terminal at the centre of town, but it was still pretty quiet. Foot traffic was at a minimum due to the lousy weather, and Leyrians seldom used cars.

At one point, a bus came rolling past, heading toward the downtown core. Harry saw lights in the windows of distant skyscrapers despite the fact that there was still plenty of daylight. Autumn in Denabria always brought rain, and with it, an almost perpetual gloom. It almost made him miss Ottawa's many snowstorms.

Jack walked along with his hands inside the pockets of his denim jacket, his face a granite mask of consternation. “So, are you going to tell me her name?” The total lack of enthusiasm told Harry that his friend really wasn't looking for an answer. He just wanted to take his mind off his troubles.

Before Harry could think up an excuse to change the subject, he caught sight of two young women in hooded windbreakers coming up the sidewalk. Well, it was really their conversation that snagged his attention.

“That's him,” one said, pointing.

Harry's mouth dropped open. He winced, then slapped a palm against his forehead. “No, no, no.” It was a pitiful prayer, one that he knew would go unanswered. “Please, not this again!”

At his side, Jack paused and cast a glance over his shoulder, frowning in confusion. “You've seen these two before?”

“Just wait. You'll understand.”

Like a moth to a flame, one of the young ladies came rushing forward with a smile on her face. “Mr. Carlson,” she said, offering him both hands. “I hope it's not too much trouble, but my cousin just applied to Arethelia University, and it would mean so much to her if she had your blessing.”

“I'm not a religious icon,” Harry broke in.

The girl blinked as if he had just said that the sky was red and the sun green. “But I thought…” she mumbled. “Those videos on the Link…”

“You were mistaken,” he said roughly. “Go back to worshiping your Companion or whatever it is you did before I came along.”

“But-”

Harry pushed past her and ignored the dirty look that he got from her friend. Damn it, he was not a messianic figure, and he had no intention of becoming one. He could just imagine what his grandfather, a devout Catholic, would think of that. Strangely, Melissa seemed okay with it even though she was the only one in their family who had any real faith. “God has a plan for everyone,” she insisted whenever he brought it up. Harry was an agnostic who leaned toward atheism. He believed in facts, in observable reality. He was not about to encourage other people down the path of superstition. Jack actually had to run to keep up. “Pretty harsh,” he said.

Harry rounded on him, standing with the umbrella in one hand and scowling. “I am not a religious icon,” he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “The sooner they learn that, the happier we'll all be.”

Biting his lower lip, Jack nodded slowly in understanding. “I get it,” he said. “But how did Harry Carlson, Messiah for hire, become a thing anyway?”

“Melissa didn't tell you about my fight with Isara?”

“She Coles-Notesed it for me,” Jack answered. “But I was still on that Ragnosian ship at the time. I know the bullet points.”

Tilting his head back, Harry exhaled and then narrowed his eyes. “People saw me using the N'Jal,” he explained. “A human using Overseer technology. Apparently, there's some prophecy about a man who can turn the gods' weapons against them.”

Jack's wry grin actually set Harry's teeth on edge, and it only got worse when the kid laughed and shook his head. “So, they think it's you,” he said. “Well, Harry, there are worse jobs than personal Lord and Saviour.”

“Shut up!”

“Will you bless my shuttle the next time I go out?”

“You know, I have the N'Jal with me.” Thinking of the Overseer device made Harry aware of it singing in his mind. The song was a companion now; he could tune it out with very little effort. But the N'Jal offered far more than raw power. Being able to determine the chemical composition of the air with a thought, being able to sense another person's mood by measuring subtle physiological responses…The N'Jal offered perspective, and a part of him longed for that. “Any time you want an ass-whooping, just let me know.”

“Hmm,” Jack said. “It seems you're a vengeful god.”

“Oh, shut up!”

The first thing Jack saw when he walked through his front door was Anna sitting on the couch in pajama pants and a little blue tank-top. Her hair was down – a rarity for her – and she seemed to be ready for a very early bedtime.

The instant she heard him come in, she looked up and smiled that special smile of hers. “Hey, you,” she said. “How was your day?”

Chewing his lip, Jack felt his eyebrows rise. “Not bad.” He stepped into the apartment and shut the door behind him. “Harry wants us to know that he really hates his new job as messiah to the Leyrians.”

Anna was sitting with her hands on her knees, smiling into her lap. “So, you got to listen to his fun new rant?” She barked a laugh. “The last time I was over there, Melissa was having way too much fun teasing him.”

Jack approached her.

The instant he was within range, Anna got off the couch, stood up on her toes and kissed him on the lips. It was a soft kiss, tender and sweet, but it soothed away some of his frustration. Well…Okay…Most of his frustration.

Instinct kicked in, and he slipped his arms around her, holding her close and letting her rest her head on his chest. “What's all this for?” he asked.

She looked up at him with her lips pressed together, concern shining bright in those big blue eyes. Concern for what? He was about to ask when Anna hugged him tight and said, “I want pajama cuddles. Just you and me and a big warm blanket.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

A few minutes later, Jack returned to the living room in gray shorts and a big blue t-shirt, pausing with one hand on the wall to admire his girlfriend. There were moments when he marveled at how a guy like him could end up with a woman like her.

Anna was stretched out on the couch with the blankets pulled up to her shoulders, her head turned so that she had one cheek pressed into the pillow. For half a second, Jack thought she was asleep. Then she startled him by saying, “Are you gonna come join me?”

He didn't need any more prompting.

It felt so good to get under the covers with her. Pretty soon, he was lying on his side with his arm around Anna's tummy, sighing as she pressed her back against him. All safe and snuggled up. The warmth of her body seemed to drive away autumn's chill.

Jack nuzzled the back of her neck. “You're amazing,” he whispered in her ear. “This is just what I needed.”

She rolled over to face him, wrapping an arm around him, and he knew right away that she was worried. More to the point, Jack knew that he was the cause of her anxiety. “Something's been eating away at you,” she said. “I was hoping you'd tell me what it is.”

Jack shut his eyes tight, trembling as he drew in a breath. “Oh, you don't want to talk about that, do you?” It was more of a plea than a question. “I'll be fine by tomorrow. I promise.”

By the time he finished speaking, Anna was lying on her back with her arms folded, staring angrily at the ceiling. “You've been stressed out for weeks,” she said. “You think I don't notice, but I do. Out with it.”

He propped himself up on an elbow, resting his cheek on the knuckles of one fist. “You really wanna talk about this?”

“I do.”

Jack sat up and ran a hand over his face, pushing dark bangs off his forehead. “It's about what happened on that Ragnosian ship,” he began. “On the day that you and Cassi came to rescue me.”

“Go on,” she urged.

“My fight with Arin…”

“What about it?”

“I lost.”

With a heavy sigh, Anna sat up and shook her head. “Sweetie, is this some kind of Earth masculinity thing?” she asked. “Because I'm pretty sure we talked about this in the medical bay. Everyone loses sometimes.”

“No, it's not that,” Jack assured her. “I just keep…I keep thinking about Ben. About how I couldn't save him. And then there was Arin…I beat him once before and I was sure I could do it again. But I was wrong. I just keep screwing up. Maybe I don't have what it takes to be a Justice Keeper.”

Gently, Anna laid a hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her. She touched her nose to his. “My poor Jack,” she said. “You are the strongest person I know, and not because you can Bend space-time.”

“Then why?”

“On the day I met you,” she said. “You put yourself in harm's way to help a perfect stranger. And then you did it again for Summer. That cop Hutchinson had a gun pointed at your chest, remember? He gave you a choice: give him the symbiont and he would let you go.”

All of those memories came rushing back. Suddenly, Jack was right there in his big sister's living room. Hutchinson was standing over a passed out Harry, choking up on his pistol, snarling like a dog that wanted to sink its teeth into something.

He remembered all of it: the terror, the sense of helplessness and the growing fire in his belly that refused to let him back down even when he knew he couldn't win. And then he remembered meeting Summer. Those memories brought warm emotions, and not all of them were his. Summer loved him; he knew that.

Anna pressed her lips to his cheek. “You decided that you would not sacrifice an innocent creature to save your own life,” she whispered. “Even though you knew it was futile. Hutchinson would kill you and take the symbiont anyway. It didn't matter. Right is right regardless of its futility. That's what makes you an amazing Keeper.”

“Well…When you put it like that.” There were times when Jack forgot his greatest hits. It wasn't as though he had lost those memories, but it had been so long since he had thought about those events.

His selective amnesia on the topic of how he became a Justice Keeper seemed to annoy Summer. And really, could you blame her? Forgetting the events that led to their Bonding had to be an insult. He offered Summer a silent apology, but that just intensified her irritation. Jack gave up trying to understand what he had done to provoke his Nassai. She could tell him the next time they talked. “But,” he said. “I'm the only one in our little group who keeps piling up defeat after defeat.”

“Oh, really?”

He knew he was in trouble when Anna got off the couch and stood over him with her hands on her hips. “Six months ago,” she said, “Isara got out of her cell and ran into me on her way out of the building. We fought; she overpowered me and went on to kill several people before Melissa took her down.”

“Yes, but-”

“Two months later,” Anna continued, speaking right over him. “We tracked Leo to that castle. I fought him, and I had him subdued, but he triggered a hypersonic pulse and escaped. The oldest trick in the book.

“Harry took on Cara Sinthel and got shot,” she added without pause. “Melissa and Rajel both fought Isara when she attacked Justice Keeper HQ, and she tossed them both around like a cat toying with a pair of field mice. We've all had our setbacks. That's what happens when you go up against powerful enemies.”

“Okay, I take your point.”

“Good.”

Anna hopped into his lap, slipping an arm around his back and snuggling up close with her head on his chest. “Because you're wonderful and brave and clever,” she added. “And I love you with all my heart.”

Jack squeezed her tight.

They spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, cuddling, laughing, sharing the details of what they had done that day. After a light dinner, they curled up together under the blankets and put on a movie. Some Leyrian sci-fi flick about time travel. Jack always found it interesting how Leyrian fiction – especially anything that might be considered sci-fi or fantasy – often found ways to work the Overseers into the plot. And more often than not, they got the details wrong. But the movie wasn't the highlight of his evening. It was feeling Anna doze off in his arms that made his night complete.

The arch-shaped window in the library should have been admitting warm sunlight into the room, but water flowed over the glass in sheets so that all you could see through it was a vague gray haze.

It was so odd to see a library without books. There were no stacks, no shelves. No physical books of any kind. Leyrians kept all of their books electronically, accessing them through tablets or customized e-readers. There were repositories where hard copies were stored, but they were designed mainly as a way of safeguarding knowledge in the event of some planet-wide catastrophe.

Instead, this library was filled with small tables, spaced out to give students plenty of room for quiet study. Harry found his daughter at one near the window with a tablet propped up and connected to a keyboard made of nanobots. Clearly, she was using it as a laptop. And she was stressed. He could see that.

Maybe the container of hot soup he had brought would help. He smiled inwardly. So, he had finally reached the point where his kid was up all night studying for exams. That was some kind of milestone, wasn't it?

Melissa looked up and blinked at him. “Dad, hey.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she stiffened. “Are you really here or is this some hallucination of my sleep-deprived brain?”

“I brought you some dinner.” Harry set the container of hoy chicken soup down next to her. “I think maybe you're working too hard.”

“End of term,” Melissa grumbled. “Can't be helped.”

He sat down across from her, resting his hands on the chair arms and watching her for a very long while. “You don't have to push yourself quite this hard,” he said. “You've already got a symbiont. They're going to make you a Justice Keeper no matter what.”

Melissa bent over with her elbows on the table, covering her face with both hands. Her groan made Harry flinch. “True,” she agreed. “But that's no excuse for slacking off.”

“I've taught you too well.”

“Yes, you have.”

Clamping his jaw shut, Harry nodded once in approval. “Well, then,” he said, rising from his seat. “I'll leave you to it. But don't work too hard. We don't need another Aiden situation on our hands.”

Melissa threw her head back, staring blankly upward with glazed eyes. “Oh, don't remind me.” So, she'd had no luck on that front. When Harry first met that boy, he had liked him. But now he was beginning to wish that his daughter would just cut ties. There were days when he wanted to ask what exactly was going on between her and Aiden, but pushing a teenager – even one who was technically an adult – could result in them shutting you out.

He turned to go, slipping away with his head down and his coat pulled tight against his body. “Dad,” Melissa called out behind him.

When he looked back, she was sitting up straight with a bright smile. You would never have known that she had been strung out just a few minutes earlier. “Thanks,” she murmured.

Harry nodded.

He moved quietly through the library to a set of double doors that led to the lobby. Once through them, Harry found himself face to face with the hologram of an old woman who wore her white hair pulled back in a clip. “Thank you for visiting the library,” she said. “Did you find everything you needed?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She vanished when he answered, allowing Harry to carry on to the front entrance where raindrops pelted the window pane. The heavy glass doors required some effort to push open, but he grunted and shoved, and then he was out in the drizzle.

The university was a small collection of white and gray brick buildings with a line of windows on every floor. Skywalks on the second level connected each one to its neighbours so that students could easily traverse the campus in the event of inclement weather. That being the case, there were few people out on the street.

Harry followed a concrete path around the library to a road lined with skeletal trees that dripped water from every branch. The small, igloo-shaped houses on either side of the street were naked without foliage to conceal them. He saw lights in several windows.

The gray sky was beginning to darken. Evening came early at this time of year; he would need to get home to make sure that Claire had something to eat. Though, of course, she could order Michael to prepare her dinner.

Harry walked under his umbrella, humming softly to himself as his shoes squished in the puddles. A part of him wanted to call Sora and see if she was free this evening, but it was probably best to have a quiet night on his own.

Hair stood up on the back of his neck.

Cop instincts made him listen for the sound of footsteps behind him, and there were several. He counted at least four people – maybe more – all moving rather noisily. It was probably nothing to worry about. Just some kids walking home from class. Still, he didn't like having people behind him.

He turned.

There were six in total, four young men and two young women, all about Melissa's age. And they were a perfect rainbow of hues. One boy had a strong chin, a pale face and short, blonde hair. Next to him, another young man with dark-brown skin and curly hair glared daggers at Harry.

One of the girls was short and petite with tanned skin and long honey-coloured hair. The other was strikingly pale with blue hair cut boyishly short. The diversity in their little wouldn't have mattered much to Harry – this was Leyria, after all – except that they were all dressed alike, each one in a formal high-collared shirt under a dark sweater. “You're right,” Blue-Hair said. “That is him.”

Clenching his teeth with a hiss, Harry shook his head. “Whatever you're thinking,” he said, stepping forward. “Put it out of your minds right now. I'm not a religious figure, and I have no intention of becoming one.”

“No, you're not,” the blonde boy agreed.

“Who says we want you to be one?” Blue-Hair added.

Harry blinked, then took a moment to recover his wits and smother the anxiety that made his heart beat a little faster. “Well, then. So long as we agree.” He turned to go but caught motion in the corner of his eye.

It was one of the young men, a short, olive-skinned fellow with closely-cropped dark hair and a thin mustache. “You're what's wrong with this planet.” His voice was ice cold. “Foreigners. You move in, spreading your ideas.”

“I thought Leyrians had evolved beyond talk like that.”

The long-haired girl practically sneered at him as she came forward to stand beside her friend. “It's hard to evolve,” she spat, “when savages like you keep trying to drag us back into the Stone Age.”

Harry shut his eyes, his head sinking with the weight of his dismay, and rubbed his brow with the back of one hand. “I get it,” he said. “This is Leyria. Prejudice, bigotry, it's all ancient history to you kids.”

Lifting his chin, Harry let his gaze linger on the young woman. “But it's not ancient history for me,” he went on. “For me, it was cold, hard reality since the day I was born. I have seen first-hand what prejudice can drive people to do.”

They were hanging on his every word, watching him with guarded expressions. But he could see that he had piqued their curiosity. “It's a poison of the mind,” Harry went on. “You let it in – even just a little – and it will twist you into-”

He cut off when the blue-haired girl pushed her way through the others and faced him with a snarl that belonged on a rabid dog. “You see what he's doing?” she snapped. “He says he doesn't want to be worshiped, and yet here he is. Trying to lead us out of our ignorant ways.”

“That's not what-”

The young man with blonde hair was the next to approach Harry, and though his cheeks were flushed, he managed to effect an outward calm. “You don't belong here,” he said. “This is our world, not yours.”

“I beg to differ,” Harry countered. “This city is my home.”

“Not for long.”

Mr. Blond strode forward without a moment's hesitation as if he were absolutely certain that his companions would back him up. The others waited only a second before falling in behind him.

Panic welled up inside Harry, but it vanished in an instant. The N'Jal was singing in the back of his mind. All he had to do was reach into his pocket and take its power. These young idiots were no threat to him.

But he didn't take the N'Jal.

Instead, he flung open his trench coat and drew the small pistol that he wore on his hip. A good thing that he had obtained a concealed-carry permit just last month. If he was going to be working with the Justice Keepers, then there was always a chance that one of Slade's lackeys might decide to attack him on a routine trip to the park. And the next time one of them tried it, he would be ready.

Harry pointed the gun at Mr. Blond's leg. The kid was in such a rage that he just kept coming anyway. “Crowd Control!” Harry yelled. All three LEDs on the barrel turned green.

Mr. Blonde tried to rush him.

Harry fired.

A bullet struck the young man's left shin, then bounced off and fell to the ground. Mr. Blond yelped, hopping on one foot and clapping a hand over the wound. “Damn it!” He tumbled over, landing on his side, stretched out on the rain-slick sidewalk.

The others converged on Harry.

He swung the pistol in a wide arc, pointing it directly at Blue-Hair. She froze, then backed away from him with her hands up. Once again, Harry adjusted his aim, this time pointing the gun at Mustache.

That guy took two more steps and froze.

“Go home,” Harry said.

The five of them were slinking away, moving cautiously as if they thought that the sight of them running away might provoke Harry to start shooting. Mr. Blond was still on the ground.

He was sitting now, clutching his wounded leg and hissing from the sting. The kid would have a nasty welt but nothing more. Good cops learned how to defuse a situation with minimal force. Harry had not forgotten his training.

“Come on,” Harry said. “Let me have a look at your leg.”

“Stay away from me!”

“Fine!” Harry growled. “But a word of advice. Maybe you want to rethink who you spend your time with. This group will get you into trouble.”

2

Pressing her lips together, Anna felt her eyebrows rise. “So, we're going to Antaur,” she said. “Because the people who have considered us bitter enemies for over a century suddenly want to talk peace”

She wore a simple pair of beige pants and a white top with a round neck, her hair done up in a bun with sticks through it. And she sat in what had to be the most uncomfortable chair, right in front of Larani's desk.

On her right, Jack was hunched over with an elbow on his knee, fingertips covering his mouth. “They must be spooked,” he mumbled. “You think maybe the Ragnosians are violating their borders too?”

“It's a reasonable guess,” Larani replied.

The head of the Justice Keepers stood with her back to the pair of them, staring out her office window at a gray afternoon that was miraculously free of rain. The days were getting colder. That thick ceiling of clouds seemed to choke the sunlight before it could provide any warmth. “The Prime Council believes that the two of you will be a symbol of the cooperation between our two worlds. Though I'm inclined to think that more seasoned officers would be better suited to this assignment, I can't argue with her logic.”

“Will we be participating in the talks?”

“I think it's best to leave that to actual diplomats.”

Tilting her head back, Anna squinted as she considered the implications. “So, we're there just to be symbols,” she said. “Show up, look pretty, smile for the guests and don't spill anything on the furniture.”

Sighing, Larani turned away from the window.

She practically fell into her big, cushioned chair, grunting on impact and wheeling it closer to the desk. “Operative Lenai,” she began in patient tones. “I realize that this is not the sort of assignment you would prefer. You like to be the centre of attention.”

“I resent that,” Anna protested.

When she glanced to her right, she found her boyfriend watching her with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes. Well…Okay. Maybe she did steal every scene. She couldn't help it! She just had a lot of thoughts and wanted to voice them. But she could be mousy if she had to. If she had to.

Anna sank into her chair with arms folded, exhaling roughly. “Okay,” she muttered. “I take your point. I'll behave myself.”

“Excellent,” Larani said. “Now, on to other issues.”

The glass door swung open, and Anna saw Harry's silhouette striding into the room behind her. He moved at a brisk pace, grumbling under his breath. “You have a problem,” he said. “A big one.”

Larani was out of her chair in an instant, standing with her hands clasped behind herself. She frowned, then nodded once to Harry. “Mr. Carlson,” she said. “I'm glad you stopped by. You'll be going to Antaur with these two for the peace talks.”

Harry's jaw dropped, and he blinked at her. “But I'm not a diplomat.” He shook his head so fast he must have made himself dizzy. “Why in God's name would you send me to Antaur?”

“You were a liaison between us and Earth's law-enforcement agencies.”

“Yes, but-”

“Your presence will be a symbol of cooperation.” In the last year and a half, Anna had come to recognize Larani's many stares. This one said that refusing to back down on this point was a good way to find yourself doing a lot of boring paperwork. Not that she had any real authority over Harry, but with Larani, that didn't seem to matter. The woman had a talent for making other people buckle down and do whatever it was she thought they ought to be doing.

“I have daughters,” Harry protested. “I can't just go gallivanting around the galaxy.”

“And if you wish to ensure their safety,” Larani cut in, “then you will do everything in your power to make these talks succeed.”

Jack was swiveling around in his chair, grinning on the point of outright laughter. “Oh, come on, Harry,” he said. “It'll be fun! We'll ride on a big spaceship, do some sightseeing and listen to the Antaurans lecture us on our genetic inferiority.”

“Lectures that you will endure without comment, Agent Hunter.” Larani's tone was dangerous. She gave them both a lot of leeway – Anna still felt ashamed of the way that she had snarled at the other woman when Jack was a prisoner of the Ragnosians – but this was one of those times when she wanted them on their best behaviour.

It wasn't hard to see why. The fate of the galaxy could depend on this.

Harry puckered his lips and blew out a breath. “Well, then,” he said, approaching the desk. “Since that's settled, let's move on to a new topic. You had better do something about your fascist problem.”

“You mean Dusep?” Anna inquired.

“No, I mean the college kids who attacked me in broad daylight yesterday,” Harry growled. “They're getting bolder.”

Anna was out of her chair in an instant, walking over to Harry and laying a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Harry's voice was gruff. “But if we've reached the point where these kids are openly attacking immigrants…”

Larani was bent over with her hands braced upon the surface of the desk, her head hanging. “It means the situation is deteriorating,” she said. “Dusep's rhetoric, no doubt. A pity. Were you not otherwise engaged, Anna, I would have assigned this investigation to your team.”

“You think this is task force business?” Anna wasn't sure she agreed. It was hard to see how Slade and his pals could be the driving force behind this incident. True, Isara had provided weapons to the Sons of Savard, but the Sons had been planning a coordinated attack on the city's infrastructure. Anna had come to suspect that the attack had served its purpose, stoking fear in the hearts of Leyrian citizens, making them more sympathetic to harsher security measures and authoritarian policies.

Transforming a bunch of college kids into bigoted little wankers would hardly have the same effect. Not everything was the result of some conspiracy, and there were plenty of mundane explanations for how some dumb kids got radicalized.

Turning away from Harry, Anna brushed a lock of hair off her cheek and marched back to her chair. “I don't know, Larani,” she said. “I'm having a hard time seeing Slade's fingerprints on this.”

“I wouldn't put anything past that man.”

“Fair enough, but I still don't think it was him.”