Justice Keepers Saga - Books 13-15

Chapter 3-1

Rajel’s fists pounded the punching bag, a flurry of successive blows that nearly knocked the damn thing off its chain. He stood in the middle of the Scrappy’s gym, a line of exercise bikes along the wall in front of him, a line of treadmills off to his left. And Corovin Dagmath behind him, sitting in a plastic chair that he had positioned next to the door. He sensed them all.

Some people said that spatial awareness painted a misty image of the world. It wasn’t like that for Rajel. Maybe because he had never experienced mist visually, only as a cool condensation on his skin. To Rajel, Spatial Awareness was almost a tactile sensation. No colour, just shapes that grew more distinct the closer they came.

“My, we certainly are angry today,” Corvin said.

Rajel bounced on the balls of his feet.

Gritting his teeth, he snarled as he pummeled the punching bag. His face was on fire. “Just working off a little excess energy,” he panted. “You should try it sometime.”

Slouching in that chair with his legs stretched out, Corovin folded his arms. “Over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed an abundance of excess energy from you,” he said. “And a refusal to use it in ways that I would find entertaining.”

Rajel punched the bag with one fist, then spun to back-hand it with the other. The chain groaned under the repeated onslaught of a Keeper’s enhanced strength. He really should ease up.

“Why are you angry, Rajel?”

“I’m not angry.”

Corovin directed a spiteful glare at him. The man was beyond handsome. Long, wavy hair framed a bearded face with a strong chin. He had a nice body as well. A very nice body. Physically, he was just shy of perfect, but psychologically…

veryCorovin seemed to get a thrill out of riling up other people, poking at their emotional vulnerabilities. He even did this to his boyfriends. At least, Rajel assumed he did. They had never clarified the exact nature of their relationship. Corovin certainly had no qualms about targeting Rajel’s hang-ups. “You’re always angry,” he insisted. “Have you noticed that? You seem to exist in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction.”

alwaysRounding on the other man, Rajel tossed his hands up. “All right!” he shouted, striding forward. “I am angry. I feel useless on this ship.”

am“Because you can’t fly it?”

Rajel pulled a towel off the shelf and began patting down his face. “Among other things,” he muttered. “I’m not an engineer or a doctor. Most of the conflicts we encounter involve ship-to-ship combat. So, I just spend my days lounging around.”

“How positively horrible.”

“And,” Rajel pressed on. “That was exactly what I did on Salus! The others all had important roles to play. Melissa was a spy masquerading as a socialite; Anna planned the missions. But what did I do? I sat in the kitchen and chopped carrots.”

“And,”He growled, turning away from Corovin, pacing back to the punching bag with the towel in hand. It wasn’t that simple, of course. Rajel had been included in almost every combat operation. No one doubted his ability to fight, but once the fighting was over, he was shoved into a corner and told to keep quiet.

fight,Part of that was the need to keep a low profile. Rajel couldn’t hide his blindness, and a blind man would not be asked to carry trays and dinner plates to the dining room. He could perform that task as well as anyone else, but his presence would be noticed. More so if he displayed an excess of competence.

couldCorovin sat back with one hand clasping his chin, grunting as he examined Rajel with a critical eye. “Have you considered the possibility that you might be too fixated on what other people think of you?” he asked. “That many of your problems stem from this incessant need to prove yourself?”

“You didn’t grow up in a culture that treated disabled people as second-class citizens.”

“No, I didn’t,” Corovin agreed. “I grew up in a culture that treated poor people as second-class citizens. Your people may have reminded you every day that you were less valuable than everyone else, but they never left you to starve.

“On my world, your life would have gone one of two ways. If you had been born to a wealthy family, you would have received special tutors and would probably have been given a token position in whatever company or agency employed your parents. You never would have had any real power.

“On the other hand, if you had been born to a poor family, you likely would have died young from a lack of medical care. The one occupation where just about anyone can find employment – military service – would have been denied to you. You probably would have received some kind of disability benefit, but unless you were very lucky, it wouldn’t be enough to meet your needs. You would have had to scrape and claw your way not to the top of the social hierarchy but to a place where basic survival becomes a realistic goal.”

some“So, what’s your point,” Rajel barked. “That I should be grateful for what I have?”

Chuckling softly, Corovin stood up. He shook his head slowly, coming up behind Rajel. “No, love,” he said. “My point is that you should stop trying to prove that you are just as capable as anyone else. In fact, you should encourage people to underestimate you.”

“Gods above, why would I do that?”

“Because you will gain an advantage,”Corovin said. “And any advantage, no matter how small, is precious.”

He stepped forward, resting his hands on Rajel’s shoulders, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. “We don’t have to stay here you know,” he murmured. “In this place where you feel useless. We could take my armour, steal a shuttle and leave tonight.”

“And where would we go?”

“To the far side of the galaxy, of course,” Corovin purred. “A man with your skills could make a great deal of money.”

“My Nassai would never go along with something like that.”

Corovin turned away, shuffling back to his chair. He froze, looking over his shoulder. “And you wonder why I don’t want one. Power isn’t power if it comes with restraints.”

The psychic noise throughout the ship was calm today. People were generally in a good mood. Keli muted that racket to a soft buzz like the constant humming of a fan in the background. Ever-present but easily ignored. Even soothing at times.

A tall woman with a round face of dark-brown skin, she moved through the ship at a brisk pace. She had opted for simple clothing today – white pants and a blue t-shirt – and she was finding it incredibly liberating. She would have to thank Cassi for the suggestion.

Her preference for dresses and high heels was – like so many things in her life – a power move. A subtle indication that she was in charge. It wasn’t so different from what the telepaths on her homeworld did. For them, it was elaborate robes and jewelry, but the effect was the same. Present yourself as an authority figure and people treated you like an authority figure.

When you had grown up in a cell, anything that gave you a measure of control over how people treated you was a weapon that you wouldn’t give up easily. She was starting to realize that she didn’t need it. Not here.

Rounding a corner, she found Isara standing in an empty corridor with an alcove in the wall. The other woman was facing the back of the ship, staring at a hologram of an endless starfield. Keli almost turned around and left, but she thought better of it at the last second. There was no reason she should be afraid of this creature.

“I don’t bite,” Isara grumbled.

Striding through the corridor, Keli nodded to the other woman. “No, indeed.” She ventured a glance toward the hologram. “What are you doing?”

Isara heaved out a sigh, closing her eyes and slumping over. “It’s just not the same, is it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked the computer to show me the feed from the ship’s aft sensor array.” Isara gestured to the rippling hologram. “But it’s just not the same as looking out a window. The majesty is lost.”

Crossing her arms, Keli frowned as she studied the other woman. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?” she remarked. “Strangely introspective at times.”

“You were expecting a raving lunatic?”

“Can you blame me?” Keli asked, leaning her shoulder against the corridor wall. “After the things I’ve seen you do?”

Everyone on this ship avoided Isara. Keli suspected that was due, at least in part, to her appearance. Many of her friends had been close to Jena Morane. Keli couldn’t say the same. She was much better acquainted with the woman who now stood in front of her.

Isara had saved her from another stint inside a prison cell, a fact that rankled her to no end. Even more troubling was the fact that Keli felt gratitude for that timely rescue.

“No,” Isara muttered, dismissing the hologram with a wave of her hand. “I suppose I can’t. I’ve thrown my lot in with you now.”

She turned, stalking off through the corridor. Keli watched her go, unsure of what to do or say. A few seconds later, she felt the presence of another mind coming around the corner behind her.

Drayvin stepped up beside her, frowning at Isara’s back. “That one is going to be trouble,” they said.

Keli nodded.

“Feel like a game of Cathalay?”

Cathalay?”She hesitated before answering. Drayvin had just challenged her to a Leyrian card game, and it wasn’t the first time. She had already turned them down twice. The game was simple: you drew four cards and made bets based on the strength of your hand. Like many such games, you had to guess whether your opponent was bluffing. “You do realize I can read minds, right?”

“Of course,” they replied. “That’s part of the challenge.”

She spun to face them, raising an eyebrow. “You want an opponent who can cheat.”

Drayvin replied with an impish grin, slowly backing away from her. “The greater the challenge,” they said, “the sweeter the thrill of victory. Why do you think I joined up with a crew of misfits?”

Keli arched an eyebrow. “I thought it might have something to do with protesting your government’s decision to illegally imprison immigrants.”

“Well, there was that.”

“You are a most unusual individual, Drayvin Parneel.”

“Which means I fit in perfectly here,” they countered. “Come on. I’ll teach you the rules.”

Isara sat alone in her quarters, trying – with limited success – to suppress her growing sense of frustration. Things were not going as planned. She would have expected Hunter to make a move against Slade months ago, but the boy was content to sit here, guarding a planet that no one wanted to attack.

Worse yet, he had been dispirited by the appearance of this strange doppelganger, his self-confidence shattered. She suspected that was the point. She didn’t know who Slade had picked to wear Hunter’s face, but the man had a talent for cruelty. And this felt remarkably personal.