Quester among the flowers 8

 sorry, I am out of routine. 

Chapter 8

 

Quester avoided nightmares; Kiliana had curled up next to him on the bed, wrapped in her own duvet outside his covers, with her hand on his, and her mind... he could only describe it as snuggled into his.

It was Kiliana who had a disturbed night.

She was learning to shield herself, but when asleep she was still open. And into her sleep a voice intruded.

“Hello, little heretic,” said the voice. “Oh, you are young and luscious. And strong... I’m going to have to denounce you, of course; I know where you are. Oh, but if you make it worth my while, I’ll make sure that when it’s time to put you to the question, it’s short... I can make private visits to your cell. Now, tell me the best way to find you, and I will try not to mutilate you too much....”

Kiliana woke, screaming, clutching Quester’s hand convulsively, and in a flash he saw why she was so distressed, and perceived more than she did, a man in the same magenta collar and ruby badge he wore, and his anger boiled over at a man so abusing his position. He felt Kiliana draw on his power and did not resist as she sent a single, piercing thought of loathing at the pervert who thought he had found some newly-awakened unregistered psion.

Quester was more aware than a frightened Kiliana of the screaming on the other end of the link, which Kiliana had seized onto. He felt the other mind break down, and pulled Kiliana out of the link before she had to suffer a man dying under the force of her mind.

Abe, but she was strong!

“It’s all right, little one, it’s all right, I am with you, and you are registered, nobody can call you a heretic,” said Quester, rubbing circles on her back as she clung to him. “You’ve been attested as trained by the Winged Hussar Psions as well as by me, nobody can hurt you.”

“His mind... it was so dirty!” whispered Kiliana. “But he was a Justiciar! How can the Blessed Abe permit Justiciars who are dirty?”

“Because, alas, mortal men choose the justiciary and some hide the dirt in their souls,” said Quester. “And because to have a sufficiency, those of us who are less than perfect must be chosen in the hopes that we will strive for excellence, and to overcome weaknesses.”

“Leo, I can see that in Aquila, who is impatient and not very imaginative, and in Hunter, who has a big chunk of Patrician Pride on his shoulders, but you have no weaknesses.”

“I am too soft; I hate using torture,” sighed Quester. “And I hate the waste of human life in the widespread execution of heretics and mutants. Though for some, it’s a mercy killing.”

“Leo, your compassion is what makes you so close to the Blessed Abe,” said Kiliana. “His love for mankind is so clear in your face when you speak of Him, and how you act towards all. I think it a strength, not a weakness. And the opposite of that... ugh, that foul creature who was, I swear, aroused at the thought of torture.”

“He was,” said Quester, grimly. “I could see it.  But I need to make a call, to protect you. They will read your pattern in him if he lives.”

“But... Oh, Leo! I – I just pushed at him.”

“You are more powerful than you know,” said Quester, reaching for his datatab. He punched some numbers.

“Justiciar-General Zadok?” he said. “I am sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night, but one of the Judiciary has attacked my assistant, who is a half-trained accredited Psion; a telekinetic as well as a telepath.”

The man in sleepwear had to have been awake to answer so quickly.

“Both? That’s incredible! Has she had training?”

“The telekinetics of the Winged Hussars took her under their wing,” said Quester. “But she’s half-trained, was awakened by the attack on her mind of, I believe, a Justiciar known as Arbiter. She screamed in terror and I had to block, as she was screaming mentally as well.”

“That will be why I’m awake,” said Zadok, dryly. “I ‘heard’ the backwash. Where are you?”

“St. Marilyn buildings,” said Quester.

“That’s a clear five miles from Judiciary central!” said Zadok. “I suspect she woke every Psion worth their salt.”

“She managed to call for the Winged Hussars from Araklion to the Empire Hub,” said Quester, proudly.

“Work on her precision and shielding,” grunted Zadok. “When you say, ‘attack,’ what do you mean?”

“He called her a heretic and was taunting her with being his sexual plaything, and he was enjoying the thought of torturing a young girl,” said Quester, grimly. “I caught some of it.”

“Oh, Blessed Abe!  Poor child, I... there have been no adverse reports about Arbiter, but every instinct believes this, sadly,” said Zadok.  “Tell her, she’s not in trouble; nobody can blame a half-trained youth for anything caused by trauma.”

“Thank you,” said Quester.

“Is this the young lady Hunter was so hot against?” asked Zadok.

Quester sighed.

“I think he has no ability to assess people on their merits, only by his limited world view of how he sees people,” he said.

“I dismissed him, after he ranted at me,” said Zadok. “A sadly unsteady character; you are to be praised for your charitable approach to him, but I don’t think he has what it takes.”

“I have too little patience to train him, anyway,” said Quester. “I cannot have my assistants insulted.”

“No, indeed,” said Zadok. “I’ll have some people look in on Arbiter; tell the little lady to rest in peace, whatever he says, unless he’s prepared to have his memory checked, she’s in the clear, though I may have to check her memory too. But unofficially, your word is good.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Quester.

He ended the call.

Kiliana threw herself into his arms.

Quester did not discourage her; having such things threatened was bad enough but right into her naked mind had to be so much worse.

 

It was light when he woke up, with Kiliana still in his arms, the scent of her hair shampoo in his nostrils, and his morning reaction profound enough to be painful. Gently he shook her.

“Time to get up for school, Killie,” he said, kissing the end of her pert nose.

Kiliana rolled into a sitting position, knuckling her eyes. 

“I think the phrase is, ‘I don’ wanna go to school,’” she said, laughing. “I’ll be ready in a jiffy, once I’ve made porridge for us all.”

 

oOoOo

 

An hour and a half later, Kiliana was being driven in a ground pod by Villnew to the academy.

The academy was a gated community, with security guards.

“I could climb the walls, no problem,” said Kiliana. “And they won’t have razor wire, or a killing jolt of electricity, in case any of the girls is trying to make a runner for whatever adolescent reason.”

“I wouldn’t try it, if I was you,” said Villnew.

“No, as I understand it, they are allowed out to go to the park, so presumably they can just ask to be let out, or have keys downloaded on their datapad,” said Kiliana. “I expect I’ll find out what the privileges are; and the teachers presumably get to come and go at will, and possibly have visitors, whom we must also suspect.  It does rule out someone faking being one of the Shackled, however.”

“Yes, especially with the killings of plebian girls as well,” said Villnew. “Good luck, Kiliana.”

“Thanks,” said Kiliana.

 The pods did not go inside the grounds.

“Your escort isn’t going with you?” asked the security guard. “I’ve called for a buggy to collect you and your kit; new, aren’t you?”

“My escort is daddy’s secretary and he wants to get rid of me and get back to doing his own thing,” said Kiliana, with a toss of her hair. “Yes, my first day here. Are you all alone in charge of security?”

“Goodness me, no, Miz, there are four of us on duty at once, one on the cameras, one on the gate, and two patrolling,” said the guard. “We do four hours on, eight hours off, and it’s staggered. You need not worry that any one team might be subborned.”

“So, twelve guards in all? My goodness,” said Kiliana. Guards were also to be considered as suspects.  “The grounds are lovely.”

“Not my business, Miz,” said the guard. “They have The Shackled to deal with the gardening, and Mr. Noles overseeing them; but they won’t trouble you, and if you don’t trouble Mr. Noles, no more won’t he. Him being a surly body,” he added.

“Oh, I know about them,” said Kiliana. “Is this the buggy?”

“Yes, Mr. Stanton said he’d come, himself, he’s the head servant, and he’ll have arranged for the servants to take your baggage to your room and unpack it.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of a shock; I’m expected to care for my own clothes at home,” said Kiliana.

“Between you and me, miz, it would do some of the young ladies no harm if their own families made them pick up after themselves. But that’s just my opinion,” said the guard.

“I’m not effete,” said Kiliana. “How many servants are there?”

“Four manservants for the heavy work and a dozen maids,” said the guard. “Well, eleven; they haven’t had time to replace poor little Iris yet, who was done to death in the park last night, it being her night out.”

“Oh, dear,” said Kiliana, who had no difficulty in paling at this news; the poor girl who likely died as Quester laid the cards. “Who would do such a horrid thing?”

“It ain’t just maids and the like,” said the guard. “Some of the girls at the school have been killed, too.”

“Jenkis!” a male voice snapped. “You don’t hobnob with the young ladies, you are beneath their notice!”

“Yes, Mr. Stanton, whatever you say, Mr. Stanton,” said Jenkis, the guard, colourlessly.

“Get Miz Antilla’s baggage loaded in the buggy,” snapped Stanton. “Please, Miz Antilla, if you will make yourself comfortable....”

“I’m not sure I am comfortable if schoolgirls are being killed,” said Kiliana. “What’s all this about, and how much am I at risk? And why?”

“It... well, you are quite safe if you stay within the grounds,” said Stanton. “The girls who have been killed went out in their free time.”

“What’s being done about it?” asked Kiliana.

“It’s in the hands of the Judiciary, not that they seem to be doing much about it,” said Stanton.

“What’s the school doing about it?” asked Kiliana.

“All girls are restricted to the grounds unless with an adult,” said Stanton.

“What if the adult is the killer?” asked Kiliana.

“Don’t be ridiculous! All the faculty are patricians,” said Stanton.

“But the servants and security aren’t, and they’re still adults,” said Kiliana.

“Obviously, I didn’t mean the underlings,” snapped Stanton.

“You should say what you mean, then, Mr. Stanton,” said Kiliana.

“You’re a pert one,” said Stanton. “Right, here we are; up the steps and the principal’s office is right opposite, she’s waiting to see you.”

“Thank you for coming to collect me, Mr. Stanton,” said Kiliana.

“Well! You are welcome,” said Stanton, reflecting that the girl had manners where it counted.

 

The vestibule was large, cold, and mostly white marble. A large, cold, marble staircase wound up to a landing on the second floor, as the vestibule was two floors in height.

Kiliana walked across the extent of marble, and knocked sharply on the door marked ‘Principal.’

“Come!” a voice called, and Kiliana walked in, trying not to feel scared.

The office was large, with a soft carpet on the floor, and a lot of white-painted wood or plaswood. Kiliana thought it might be genuine. Behind a large desk was a woman in her forties, handsome still, and well-cared for. Her name was on a marker on the desk, Katrinna Jema Rubia.

“Kerria Leonida Antilla, I believe?” said the woman, in a well-modulated voice. It was trained to be rich and vibrant, Kiliana thought, rather than naturally so, and was pitched to be somewhat captivating. There was the merest thread of Psionic compulsion in it, and Kiliana frowned. None of the staff were registered Psions; she had checked.

“Are you expecting anyone else new, then?” asked Kiliana.

The woman frowned.

“No, I am not,” she said.

“Ah, I see,” said Kiliana. She was not about to confirm directly a false name to a Psion, even if she was fairly sure she could cover a lie to one of small talent. “I wondered, in the way you phrased that as a question.”

“It was a matter of good manners, my dear,” said Miz Rubia. Her tone had a touch of brittleness to it.

Kiliana said nothing; she did not feel an answer was required. If the woman wanted an apology, Kiliana did not think her little gambit being foiled was worth it.

There was a brief, awkward silence; Kiliana was quite capable of silence, however, and hid a smile in victory when Miz Rubia cleared her throat.

“I hope you will be happy here,” she said.

“Thank you for your hopes,” said Kiliana.

“Why, child, that sounds as if you do not expect to be happy,” said Miz Rubia.

“Life passes out tribulations; what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger. If I am not targeted by your killer, I will survive the experience, no doubt,” said Kiliana.

“Don’t you want to be here?” demanded Miz Rubia. “What could be nicer than learning in the company of girls of your own class, all the things you will need in life?”

“Swimming in the sea off Araklion every day, going fishing, climbing mountains, walking for hours in uninterrupted solitude,” said Kiliana.

The smile was a little fixed.

“We do encourage our girls to join in group activities, and not to seek solitude,” said Miz Rubia.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” said Kiliana. “I won’t sabotage group activities, and I get to seek as much solitude as I want.”

Miz Rubia frowned.

“I do not make... deals... with schoolgirls,” she said, icily. “If you cause trouble, you will be punished.”

“And what do punishments entail?”

“Withdrawal of privileges, being made to sleep in a room on your own, and not associate... Kerria Leonida Antilla! Stop smirking this instant!”

“Your punishments are too attractive,” said Kiliana. “What’s wrong with an agreement to behave for being cut a little slack? I don’t like people very much.”

“I... I have never met a girl like you!” spluttered Miz Rubia.

“I am not impolite, nor a guttersnipe like Miz Ambria Stayvuhsunta– I never got her middle name,” said Kiliana. “The thought of associating every hour of the day with the likes of her is a punishment. I’d take being whipped over that.”

“My dear child! If you had ever been whipped, you would not say that.”

“But I have been; and you are making assumptions about me,” said Kiliana.

Miz Rubia sighed.

“Perhaps if you are used to solitude, a little leeway can be permitted,” she said. “Now, I have rung for a servant to take you to your room. You are expected to keep your own area tidy, and you are responsible for putting out clothing in need of washing, and of collecting it from the washing basket when it is brought up with clean linen. Your timetable is beside your bed. The girls will be leaving for their first class in five minutes, which for you is History and Faith. You are dismissed.”

Kiliana dropped a brief curtsey, as a servant came in, and turned to follow the girl, whose eyes were swollen and red.