Page 36 of Spark Transform

Samara’s mouth twisted. “Thirty-three Jumpers is less than a dust mote in an asteroid field. We can’t do many more, or some bright data diver will notice Mabingion is the common denominator for the cluster of cures. The trending rumors of a commercial drug-based cure have already made the CPS hounds extra inquisitive.”

“I’m working on it.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Trustworthy top-level healers who the CPS can’t pressure are rare. Hell, even finding a healer who can work together with our shielder so you can teach–”

Her cuff-style percomp blinked insistently. Frowning, she activated it, then stood abruptly. “Great chaos, look.” She expanded the display into a holo.

The news streamed raw reports of multiple explosions across the city. The rapid-cut feed showed fires defying the ever-present rain at eight locations and counting. A dilapidated warehouse in the Canals. A high-rise in the media district. A laboratory that burned so hot, it melted the glass sidewalk and street.

Breathless announcers reported that businesses were closing and sending employees home. The Ridderth police belatedly declared a citywide emergency and ordered everyone to stay put. The traffic control system strained to give priority to first responders.

When the feed began to repeat, she closed the display. “I can’t stay. I need to get stuck in traffic like everyone else.”

Her words killed his secret hope that they’d be stuck together for a while.

She grabbed her coat to pull it on.

He touched her arm. “Before you go, I’d like to ask about perma-shields for a journalist who works with Novo Granica here in Ridderth. She’s been sending lightning to the heart of darkness, and now she’s vulnerable.”

Samara nodded as she patted her various pockets. “Tell me who to look up, and I’ll get back to you. How soon?”

“Fast. She’s made too many connections to Soleil as it is.” He pointed toward her chest pocket. “Your hood.”

Turning to his bag, he lifted a square take-out box to offer to her. “Ignore the logo. It’s homemade gyros and green toms in a flatbread. No sauce.” He twitched a smile at her. “Neirra called Soleil the Jumper’s hope, but you’re the hope of all minders. You need to eat.”

A succession of unreadable emotions flashed across her face. “It’ll be hard to…” Her gaze moved away for a moment, then returned to him. “You are far kinder to me than I deserve.” She took the box by its handles with a slight, respectful bow.

He walked her to the door as she pulled on the hood. As he reached for the wallcomp, she intercepted his hand and spoke to him via telepathy. The skin contact made the link strong. He hastily contained any stray thoughts and emotions she didn’t need to know about.

“Find trainable healers for the Jumper cure. Find trainable pairs of shielders and healers who can work together to implant shields.” She shared a brief image of one of the explosions from the news. “Ayorinn’s red sparks are here early. I don’t want to be irreplaceable.”

Her reference to an earlier Legacy quatrain resonated deeply. After his sister’s death, he’d been ready to close the minder escape network and abandon everything else on Mabingion. Even her. That quatrain, plus unexpected new friends, convinced him to more fully engage instead.

“I will.” His heart overran his defenses for a brief moment. “You’ll always be irreplaceable to me.”

“That’s sweet,” she replied, right before she dropped his hand and their connection immediately.

He smiled and opened the door to let her leave, pretending he wasn’t feeling like a boot to the heart had just kicked him out into the cold black void.

Chapter 14

Planet: Mabingion • GDAT 3242.195

At an hour past midnight, Renner stood in the alley’s deepest shadow, watching the entrance to the used-goods store in the Canals. The streets threatened to become rivers. His waterproof camo cloak hid him and quietly deflected the rain. Yet another practical gift from Charrascos that only a high-gliding pinzai-head would have refused. Didn’t make it easier to accept.

Resistance members had been drifting into the store one by one for the last thirty minutes. The CPS’s destructive raids — no one bought the “it-was-terrorists” story — had everyone looking over their shoulder.

He cautiously extended his talent toward the hunched figure sloshing through the rain toward the store. Finally, his friend had arrived, seemingly safe and well. Refusing to acknowledge his relief, he stepped out of the alley. “Lunesti.”

The figure looked up, startled, then nodded. “Chalio.” The drumming of the rain almost drowned out his soft tenor voice.

Renner fell into step beside him.

Lunesti glanced at Renner from under his extended hood. “What about your gig?”

Renner shrugged one shoulder. “Night off.” He glanced at Lunesti’s pale face, lit by the reflected glow from the street. “Is inhib controlled?”

“Supposed to be, but this is Ridderth.” Lunesti stepped around a puddle, putting him closer to Renner. “You gliding too high?” Concern laced his tone.

“No. Fronting.” He didn’t want to explain his possibly irrational belief in a forecaster’s warning. If inhib could disrupt a sifter’s influence on Charrascos or her team, it wouldn’t hurt to carry it. Besides, he really was buying for someone else. She just didn’t know it.