absent assassin 24

 

Chapter 24

 

The novice knights and lay servants stared at Kiliana, aghast. What awful retribution would fall on her from the stern Justiciar?

Quester also stared, permitted himself a smirk, and cuffed her lightly across the back of the head.

“All very well when surrounded by friends, but never do that in public,” he said.

“No, my lord,” said Kiliana, her newly-formed dimples quivering. She ran off to request a rotodyne for the Justiciar and entourage.

“Nex’ time he says sump’n like dat, I’ll answer, because everyone knows us Ogroids are dumb enough to take it literallily,” said Burdock, conspiratorially when she returned.

“It’s a shame you have to hide it,” said Kiliana. 

Burdock grinned his horrible grin of outsize teeth.

“But then, I can have fun without trouble,” he said.

“Burdock!” scolded Purity.

He winked at her, and she laughed.

“I would’n’ dare say nuffin’ like that to milord,” said Nicos, in awe.

“He does have a sense of humour, you know,” said Kiliana. “But he’s right, I should keep mine to private occasions.”

 

oOoOo

 

Quester wrapped his dignity round himself like a cloak, convinced that the rotodyne pilot was sniggering still. They landed on the sea, all the military vessels being amphibious, and, having taxied to the wharf, Quester strode out without ado, his entourage following.

Various of the knights, still rounding up pirates, saluted him perfunctorily as he passed, those who had mopped up their little knots gave him a sharper salute and inclined their heads. Eusebius had set up a command post on the wharf, and Lukas was there, surrounded by vigilant guards, kneeling, face raised, his mind reaching out, naked and exposed, to check for further trouble. Quester hesitantly touched the man’s mind with his own, to lend what aid he could, and found that Kiliana was with him. Lukas pulsed a thanks of sorts and rode their power.

He opened his eyes which were filled with horror and disgust.

“Slaves!” he gasped, and pitched forward in a faint at the horrors he had felt. Quester and Kiliana were jarred out of his mind, and clung to each other to avoid falling, as one of the brothers caught Lukas, and lowered him down.

“Leo, did you get where?” asked Eusebius. “I’m trying to get him not to put himself all in like that, he feels so deeply...”

“Yes, I came in on the tail end of his search and saw where without the full horror of the plight of the slaves,” said Quester, grimly. “Come with me; Kiliana and Purity, you will need to help with any girls and women.”

He led a contingent of Highbred to one of the downed zeppelins, the gondola actually in the water. It must be watertight, or there would not have been any minds to find. But it must be terrifying for them.

“Eusebius, can your Brothers Telekinetic find enough in them to lift it enough to get to an entrance?” asked  Quester.

Eusebius went blank-faced.

“They want your visualisation; you make good pictures,” he said.

Quester opened up, his rather sallow features blanching still further at the rather blunt intrusion of a dozen minds, trained for moving more than for mental contact with finesse.

The surge of power almost drove him to his knees, and Kiliana did fall, her hands pressed to her ears. Quester found he was guarding his ears with his own hands, though the ‘sound’ of telekinesis was not really a sound as much, just the way his brain interpreted it.

And the whole gondola was on the dockside.

“Void, ether, and darkness!” swore Quester. “That’s efficiency for you.”

He received the concept of pleased chuckles.

“They thank you for the compliment,” said Eusebius. “They expressed an interest in meeting you physically, and the young Telekinetic who helped; and they rarely want to meet people in the flesh.”

“Why is that?” asked Quester.

Eusebius looked uncomfortable.

“Most of our telekinetics are not physically whole,” he mumbled. “Many of them were born maimed and gained their powers wanting to compensate. No illegal mutants, you understand....”

Quester nodded.

Many mutancies for which there were commonly known names, and were therefore not illegal, were still not tolerated by their own communities. If they could find fulfilling roles as telekinetics, and comfort in the warmth of the faith of the Highbred Knights, it was not his business.

“I hold no prejudice,” said Quester.

 

oOoOo

 

Kiliana gagged at the stench in the cargo hold of the pirate ship; human waste, fear, unwashed bodies, and old, stale food warred for attention in the nostrils. Smells too of corrupt flesh, pus-laden sores, the horrible sweetish smell of gangrene. And possibly dead bodies.

“L...Leo...” said Kiliana, in a small voice.

“Courage,” said Quester, touching her shoulder. “Eusebius, the height is too low for your people...I need humans.”

“Our militia will bring them all out, and we’ll set up the warehouse as a hospital,” said Eusebius. “You go and see if you can find a manifest of lading, and see where these slaves were destined.”

Quester nodded.

“I’ll stay and reassure people,” said Kiliana, with a gulp.

The warmth of Quester’s smile was a reward.

He went to find the captain’s cabin, hearing Kiliana speak up, saying, “Right, we’re here to rescue you, but please be patient as we may need tools.... the fuck we need tools!” there was a burst of anger and distress from her mind and the mental noise as the shackles all flew open made Quester stumble as it drowned out the physical noise of the falling metal.

“She’s picking it up,” said Eusebius, dryly, rubbing his ears. “If a little noisy in her work as yet.”

“Blessed Abe!  I’m no telekinetist, save with human flesh and healing; I hope your brothers will give her a few pointers.”

“Zeb and Adam – they’re conjoined twins – are laughing their heads off. I think the lot of them will make a pet of her,” laughed Eusebius. “So much for needing blacksmith tools. She’s having to sit down, though.”

“I am feeding her power,” said Quester. “I am proud of her.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what the children of the both of you will be capable of,” said Eusebius.

“Children! We aren’t romantically involved, Eusebius, she’s my protégé, no more,” said Quester.

“Ah? Well, you should know,” said Eusebius.

“She needs a strong Psion though,” said Quester. “I wish I were stronger, and could train her better.”

“You’re pretty strong, yourself,” said Eusebius.

“Me? No, my powers are weak; I can heal a little, and do some mental contact.”

Eusebius laughed.

“You do yourself down. ‘Some mental contact’ does not account for you calling for us halfway across the planet, nor combining it with voice control with that sound attack. I suspect you’ve convinced yourself you were weak and have not explored the extent of your powers.”

“I am not as good at healing as my mother; and the Psion who taught me in the Academy told me that messing about with mind speech was feeble, and that I would never amount to anything if all I could do was a little mind control and reading surface thoughts.”

“Leo,” said Eusebius, seriously, “I don’t know whether he was goading you on, or trying to hold you back out of jealousy, but will you let me look at the memory? I may not be as skilled as Lukas, but my lads like me to check out their memories if they have things they need to work through. So I’m moderately good at it.”

“What, now?”

“Were you going anywhere?”

“Only to find papers...”

“It will wait.”

Quester swallowed hard.

He was intensely jealous of his privacy, though Kiliana had precious little respect for it, and for some reason he did not mind that. But Eusebius was someone who had become a close friend very quickly, and he opened his eyes, and his inner eye to invite the big Chaplain in. He focused on his time in the academy in the classes of Father Pius teaching Psion powers to the boys who had the ability. The girls had a female teacher, he recalled. And Father Pius had put him down for having delusions of adequacy from the first lesson, when the cocky boy, Leo Antillus, was reading the cards, having read up how to do it.

That moment of shame when Pius had torn him off several strips for presumption was, Leo realised, the start of his aversion to using the cards ‘like some half-arsed freak at a side-show licenced as a hedge-psion’.

“Holy Abe’s intestines!” breathed the Highbred. “What a dick!  Leo... I’m pushing further. Angels and saints and the crinkly bits of Jyowoshinton’s beard! You open up with the ease of one of the best. And I can see your shield; solid adamantium! I... Leo, I have to report this Pious, you know; his jealousy is rolling off him in waves in your memory, though you had not the ability to recognise it. And he deliberately sabotaged your learning by putting you down. I... I don’t know how much you can recover it; you’re young... but by Abe’s Throne! You should have been good enough to have been offered the option to transfer to the Highbred and receive all the physical enhancements. It’s why some Psions in our ranks are short-arses; some are barely seven feet tall. They come from other places like the academy. But he took exception to you sassing him, and deliberately played down your abilities, made you believe you were barely a Psion. He cost us one of the best.... but you can make it up, Leo, mentally, even if it’s too late to join the Highbred.”

Hot tears were coursing down Quester’s face.

“I can still be on call for you if I can make up the loss,” he said, grimly.

“Brother.” Eusebius put a hand on his shoulder.

And having had the memory opened and examining it in retrospect, Leo could see how the years of being disparaged had done their work.

No more.

He would learn, alongside Kiliana.

 

And in the meantime he had a job to do.

 

oOoOo

 

Quester read the manifest in horror. It was no official manifest such as a Buckyhare would carry, but was a horror story in terms of slave markets and mine owners between Araklion and the lands  of the Commutants.

This was too much for one man, and he must file a report. It would delay things, but there was only so much he could do, even with the aid of the Church Knights and their warship.  And indeed, he could scarcely go off on a crusade without orders. He would, quite rightly, be declared rogue in short order. He would recommend, however, that the Winged Hussars be joined by other knightly regiments to wipe out this whole trade, and the slave markets of the Crimean Ribbon. No wonder Poltronis had been considering relocating  there.

The slaves were listed, and Quester quailed at how many had the word ‘Mutant’ beside them.  They were destined to live out the rest of their miserable lives in the dark in mines, where nobody would see their mutations.

Well, he would see how many he could find names for on his datatab, so they were legal mutants; though where they might go, he was puzzled to answer.

However, he had names.

Names of slavers, names of purchasers.

 

oOoOo

 

Kiliana was unaware that she was crying, hearing so many pathetic stories from the slaves, most of them teen-aged, to give the purchasers slaves  coming into adult strength who might live longer.

A girl with her hands divided down the middle with two fingers one side and a finger and thumb the other sided, grabbed Kiliana by the arm, then let go, blushing in shame.

Kiliana deliberately took her malformed hands.

“You wanted to ask something?” she said. “What’s your name? I’m Kiliana.”

“I’m Gavrilla,” said the girl. “I... they are going to execute us mutants, aren’t they?  How... how is it done?”

Kiliana frowned. “I don’t know which of you are legal mutants and which illegal,” she said. “But I know that Lord Quester will think of you all as children, and so it will mean an injection so that you go to sleep and wake up before the throne of the Blessed Abe, who loves all his children.”

“Really? Even those of us so... deformed?”

“You did not get marked by committing a sin, did you?” said Kiliana. “Gavrilla, the reason that mutants are executed is to stop them passing on terrible deformities to others. It’s held that those named and known in times before the Cataclysm are not mutants of the Cataclysm, and are legal. But if you are not legal, I... I can pray with you, and sit and hold your hand.”

“You’re amazing,” said Gavrilla. “Nobody will hold my hand, you know; not even my former family. They tried to have surgery on my hands but it didn’t take. I had awful sores and bleeding lesions when the extra finger fell off.”

“It has a name,” said Quester, quietly, coming up behind the girls. “It’s called ‘Lobster hand’. It can also be passed on to children, so you would be required to be sterilised, Gavrilla, or choose euthenasia.”

“I’d rather be sterilised,” said Gavrilla. “I don’t want to die.”

“No, you have all your life to live,” said Quester. “I’m trying to name as many mutancies as possible; the idea of killing so many children sickens me.”

“Why, if you and Kiliana live what you believe, the God-Hero of the Empire must be a fine god, and far better than the Electric Zarr,” said Gavrilla. “I... I think most of us would rather go to sleep  after a decent meal, if that’s allowed, than work in mines, though.”

“There are those in permanent pain,” said Kiliana. “And some who know that their condition will worsen – the ones growing horny patches, and... and becoming less than human. One of them already tried to commit suicide.”

“Elephant syndrome is named, but it does lead to an early death and painful life,” said Quester. “I will do what I can, but all of you will be bathed, and fed, and your stories heard.” He smiled warmly on Kiliana. “Perhaps, Gavrilla, you will help Kiliana; you seem like a clever girl, who can help her to work with everyone here. I have a report to write.” He rubbed the side of his head.

Kiliana raised a hand, and Burdock hurried over with coffee.

“I am a lucky man,” said Quester.