Saryn of Elisia Read online

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Lyris said unexpectedly.

  They both looked at him, and the armored bot made a sound like a sigh. “Why am I even here?” it asked. “Am I the receptionist now? Has the security rotation been secretly updated as well?”

  “No,” Lyris said. “Thank you for greeting my guests, and for letting me know they’re here. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome,” the bot replied. “I did threaten to follow them if they didn’t tell me why you were surprised by their arrival, but I suppose we’ve established her uninvited status. Surprise.”

  “They also came in the wrong door,” Lyris said. “More subtle if no one noticed, but it’ll be more suspicious if someone did.”

  “He said he was looking for the Operational building,” Jenna told him. “Since he was expected, I brought him to the nearest door.”

  “You brought him to our private flight room exit,” Lyris said.

  “Oh, did I?” Jenna didn’t look either surprised or apologetic. “The nearest door is the nearest door. If I’d known he likes cameras I would have made him walk all the way around to the front.”

  “I didn’t say I like cameras,” Saryn said.

  “But you do,” Lyris said. He smiled at the look Saryn gave him. “Empath, remember?”

  “Are you an empath?” Jenna asked, but when they both looked at her she raised her eyebrows. “That’s not what you meant.”

  Empaths liked cameras, Saryn realized. How did he know that? Did everyone know that? What he had known about empaths before Lyris was rapidly becoming less distinct in his mind.

  “The alarm is about to go off,” the bot said. “Solar incursion. The patrol fighters are already engaged and they’re about to call for help.”

  “That’s bad,” Lyris said. “I should have talked faster; I didn’t see this coming.”

  “It would be unfair if you were every kind of psychic,” Saryn said. He didn’t give it much thought before he said it, but it made Lyris laugh and that was a pleasant feeling.

  “That’s a good way of looking at it,” Lyris agreed, grinning at him. “I’ll remember that. In the meantime, I’m about to get —”

  An alarm sounded, distracting but not as overwhelming as it could have been. It was easy enough to talk over, and Lyris did. “Summoned,” he continued, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I asked you something yesterday. The question stands.”

  He pulled his hands free, comm in one of them and something else in the other. “Lyris,” the comm said, as he held it close enough to speak into. “Patrol’s reporting in-system raiders. We need you in space.”

  “I’m on my way,” Lyris told the comm. He slid it back into his pocket and held out his other hand to Saryn. “I want you to keep something for me.”

  Saryn frowned, but he took the device without question.

  “Until I come back,” Lyris said. “Please don’t lose it. It’s important.”

  “How important?” Saryn asked. More or less important than his own life, he wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Surely Lyris wouldn’t hand off something of high value to someone he’d just met.

  “Those are the enhancers that create Rangers,” Lyris told him. “So, very important.”

  Now that Saryn knew what to look for, he recognized a self-contained injection system meant for delivering nanobots. He shouldn’t have any idea why Lyris would give him such a thing, but he did. Lyris had told him yesterday: we want to recruit you.

  “What was the purpose of our meeting today?” Saryn asked, staring at the device.

  “Exactly what you think it was,” Lyris told him. “Tour first, speech later. But you have a choice, Saryn. No one is conscripted.”

  “Are you trying to get Saryn to join you?” Jenna asked. “To be a Ranger? Is that even allowed? He’s a politician.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Lyris said. “Most people are whatever the situation makes them. I have to go, but Kel might be willing to show you around if you ask nicely. If not, leave me a message about rescheduling.”

  Lyris was backing away, angling for the door he’d entered through without being able to see it. Just as he started to turn, though, he pointed back at Saryn and added, “Actually, leave me a message no matter what. Thanks for coming, sorry to leave!”

  Saryn didn’t realize he was smiling until Lyris had disappeared, and Jenna remarked, “He likes you.”

  “Some people do,” Saryn agreed. “I find it difficult to predict.”

  “But not difficult to recognize,” the bot said. “Empathy isn’t allowed in politics.”

  “How fortunate, then,” Saryn said, “that I’m not an empath.”

  “That’s not what I got out of your exchange,” the bot said. “But all right. If you say so.”

  “Are you Kel?” Saryn asked, studying the bot. “I don’t think we require a tour, but if there were some way we could see what the Rangers are doing, that would be appreciated.”

  “Of course,” the bot said. “That sounds much less classified than a tour of the building. I see how you got into diplomacy with those negotiating skills.”

  “Would you mind showing us what isn’t classified?” Jenna said. She sounded unexpectedly earnest, even deferential, when she added, “I know there’s a public feed. Is that something we could see in your lobby? If we go out and come back in the front door?”

  “Oh, you know where the front door is,” the bot said. “How unexpected. No, you’re here already, just come with me.”

  Jenna smiled at Saryn when the bot turned away, and it said over its shoulder, “I’m not helping you because you’re being nice to me, by the way. I’m humoring Lyris because he’s always been a good judge of character. Not that this time couldn’t be the exception.”

  “I expect empaths are relatively reliable in detecting malicious intent,” Saryn said.

  “Lack of malicious intent doesn’t make a person useful,” the bot replied.

  “Is one’s usefulness a requirement for receiving aid?” Saryn replied. “Lyris indicated a similarly practical trade yesterday, and I admit I’m surprised by this attitude in an organization as purportedly idealistic as the Ranger division of the Planetary Defense.”

  “That’s nice,” the bot said. “Appealing to idealism when I’m doing my job and you’re trying to stop me. You don’t need aid; you want a favor. You should let your friend do more of the talking.”

  Saryn raised his eyebrows.

  Jenna said, very politely, “Thank you for showing us around, Kel.”

  “You’re welcome,” the bot said. “See? She may not follow instructions, but she knows how to take advice. I like her.”

  Saryn was aware that his two best choices at this point were agreement or saying nothing. He said, “So do I,” and Jenna picked the other choice, so they followed the bot into a lift in silence.

  When the lift started to descend, the bot told them, “Solar incursion is significant. All Rangers are engaged. The patrol wing is holding a fallback while they await reinforcements.”

  Multiple questions came to mind, first among them being whether or not the bot was providing them with a real-time update of Ranger activity in the solar system. The second and probably more important question was why they were heading down. What he actually asked was, “Is news of a solar incursion being broadcast?”

  At the same time, Jenna said, “If all the Rangers are engaged, will fighter reinforcements be enough?”

  “They’ll have to be,” the bot said. “And yes, of course it’s being broadcast. Why do you think we’re going down instead of up?”

  “Raid shelter,” Saryn said.

  “Saying the fighters have to be enough sounds like people are going to die,” Jenna said.

  “Very astute,” the bot said, and Saryn didn’t think it was talking to him. “Don’t tell anyone I brought you to the ready room. I’m sure that wasn’t what Lyris intended at all.”

  Given t
he bot’s tendency toward sarcasm and Lyris’ tacit admission about the purpose of the visit, Saryn assumed that was exactly what he intended. He found it interesting that Jenna was being shepherded right along with him. Not as selective a process as his pride would have him believe? Or was Jenna’s presence on the street outside less of a coincidence than it had seemed?

  “This looks like a war room,” Jenna said.

  It looked like a place with too much natural light to be defensible, but military strategy wasn’t Saryn’s specialty. If light was being reflected down from the surface, presumably other things could take the same path. Contaminated air, fire, and even dust storms were all very real possibilities on a frontier planet under attack.

  “It’s the ready room,” the bot repeated. “It’s where Rangers get ready for war, so I suppose in that sense your designation isn’t inappropriate. Just incorrect.”

  “We’re not at war,” Saryn said.

  “Oh, of course,” the bot replied. “I’ll just call the raiders and tell them they’ve made a mistake. Do you think that will divert them?”

  “No,” Saryn said. “I think referring to the engagement of solitary fighters who fly no flag as a state of open war between two sovereign governments is misleading at best and dangerous at worst.”

  “Solitary is definitely the wrong word,” Jenna said. She was watching the massive holographic display that dominated the center of the room, and he had no idea how she had deciphered the information it provided so quickly. It was filled with color and motion and constantly scrolling series of numbers on all sides.

  “Their numbers don't define their organization,” Saryn said. “Declared alliance or association does.”

  “Okay,” Jenna replied, without looking away from the display. “Let's argue semantics while a wave of armed raiders rolls over the system defenses and heads straight for our planet. That seems like a good use of time.”

  “Oh, I do like you,” Kel said. “I don't take back anything I said about you, but I see why Lyris didn't throw you out.”

  That made Jenna look away from the middle of the room and stare at the bot. “Yeah,” she said. “I see you're talking to me now, instead of about me. Thanks for that.”

  “You're welcome,” the bot replied.

  “What do the shapes represent?” Saryn asked, still trying to make sense of the holographic blur.

  “Circles are us, xs are them,” Kel told him. “Circles with a number inside are fighter wings led by a Ranger RAV. One is Kris, two is Timmin, three is Lyris.”

  That was unexpectedly helpful, as the shapes on the three-dimensional grid coalesced into groups: fighter wings identified by numbers and, as Jenna had suggested, a wave of enemy xs breaking across their front.

  Breaking, but not disintegrating. Some of the xs got through. They were largely engaged by circles without numbers and dispatched. These were the non-Ranger wings, Saryn assumed.

  The defense held, but the front was falling back. Kel had said there was a fallback line, and Saryn didn't see it. Either it was out of range, or the raid had already reached it.

  “Where's the patrol wing?” Jenna asked. “You said they were holding the secondary line.”

  “You're looking at it,” Kel said, confirming Saryn’s suspicion.

  “That’s not good,” Jenna said. “That’s the second time this month. Is this why they want another Ranger?”

  Saryn looked at her in surprise, then at Kel, who gave a credible impression of a shrug. “One of several reasons, as far as I know. They don’t tell me everything, but I do overhear most of it. The three of them are stretched thin, they never get any time off, and there aren’t enough of them to handle publicity and politics on top of strategy and defense.”

  “And they don’t have enough firepower,” Jenna said, watching the holographic display again. “Each of those RAVs is worth an entire fighter wing. Why aren’t there more of them up there?”

  “You assume there are more?” Kel said.

  “Well, they invited him.” Jenna jerked her thumb in Saryn’s direction without looking. “Unless they only want him to look pretty and talk to the right people, yeah, I assume there’s at least one more.”

  “There are two more,” Kel said. “Thanks to Eltare’s influence at the capital shipyards, we have five RAVs, only three of which are currently defending the colony. Bad numbers, I know. Believe me, I’ve told them.”

  “So why?” Jenna insisted. She’d lifted a finger to trace the nearest group of RAV-led fighters: the ones marked three, which Kel said were Lyris’ pilots. They looked oddly disadvantaged, though Saryn couldn’t say.

  “Lyris says they need the right person.” Kel sounded unusually neutral, with none of the judgment or sarcasm the bot had infused previous answers. “The others listen to him.”

  “Because he’s an empath,” Saryn said.

  They both looked at him: Jenna liked she’d forgotten he was there, and Kel like he’d said something remarkably stupid. “Because he’s their teammate,” Kel said. “And they like him.”

  “You’re weird about empaths,” Jenna said. “Why?”

  Saryn raised his eyebrows. “I reject that description,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I admit I know little about empathy, but it was my understanding that people who use it have insight not found in the general population. Does that not make their word more valuable in situations such as this?”

  “He’s Eltaran,” Kel said, turning back to the display. Since the bot clearly didn’t need to “see” the display to know what information it presented, the gesture was more likely one of dismissal than practical necessity. “They’re all weird about empaths; that’s why this colony exists.”

  “Wait, you’re from Eltare?” Jenna stared at him like she was reassessing his competence. “I thought you were a colonist.”

  “I am a colonist,” Saryn said. “I consider myself Elisian, the same as you.”

  She looked at him a moment longer, but finally she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Then as a colonist, I suggest you use the enhancers Lyris gave you and launch one of those extra RAVs to defend Elisia.”

  “Your challenge is both unnecessary and implausible,” Saryn told her. “What need have I to prove myself to you? And were such a need to exist, why this impractical demonstration as proof? I have no military experience.”

  “Not every Ranger has military experience,” Jenna said. “Lyris doesn’t. He must have known you don’t either, but he chose you.”

  “You’re very knowledgeable about the Planetary Defense for someone who doesn’t like it,” Saryn said.

  “Of course I am,” Jenna said. “If I didn’t know anything about them, why would I dislike them? Also, it isn’t the PD in general I’m against. It’s the Rangers specifically.”

  “You’re against the Rangers?” Kel repeated. “Then what are you doing here?”

  “He was lost,” Jenna said. “I helped him get where he was going. I’m a nice person; what do you want me to say?”

  “As much as it surprises me,” the bot said, “I actually agree with him on this one. You appear to know the Rangers as individuals and as an organization. You have a level of strategic intuition that implies a military affinity, though I find no relevant experience in your records. You’re currently employed as a legal representative for underserved colony populations, for which the Rangers have historically championed. What brings you into conflict with them?”

  “Really?” Jenna asked. “This is what you do while the EPD is beating back raiders? You stand in a raid shelter and talk politics?”

  Jenna glanced his way, including Saryn in the question, which he found unfair. He was hardly a part of their conversation at this point. On the other hand, given that she’d just described his job, he supposed the logical answer was yes.

  Kel got there before he did. “Yes,” the bot said. “That’s actually my job, to stand by while the Rangers are engaged and provide tactical support. As talking to you doesn’t h
inder that function, I’m simultaneously gathering information on Lyris’ latest suggestion.”

  “Him?” Jenna asked, looking from Kel to Saryn.

  “Both of you,” Kel said. “You’re still here. There are two RAVs. Why only launch one when we have two approved pilots?”

  “What, me?” Jenna said. She didn’t sound surprised enough to have taken the bot seriously, and Saryn agreed. A single Ranger leaving them alone in the Operations building didn’t constitute approval. “I’m not a pilot.”

  “You just told him experience isn’t a prerequisite,” Kel said. “Do you want me to repeat your own argument back to you?”

  “He’s here by invitation,” Jenna said. “I’m here by accident.”

  “You arrived by accident,” Kel countered. “You remain by invitation. You just dared him to use the enhancers. Are you unwilling to do the same?”

  Saryn knew he was smiling when she looked at him again, and he didn’t try to hide it. “I will if you will,” he said. He didn’t know whether he wanted her to say yes or no, but the unpredictability of the situation was appealing.

  He was aware they were being manipulated by a bot, of course, but it wasn’t the first time. It probably wouldn’t be the last.

  “You’re kidding,” Jenna said. “You want me to come with you? I told you I hate you.”

  “You don’t hate me,” Saryn said. “You hate the politics of someone who shares my name.”

  Jenna actually rolled her eyes at him. “You’re the same person,” she said.

  “But you like me,” Saryn said.

  She didn’t answer, and he decided that was a significant improvement from “no.” He also decided that she’d already told him how to prove his good intentions, so he might as well take advantage of the information. The bot clearly wasn’t going to stop him.

  He considered the auto-injection system Lyris had entrusted him with and found it self-explanatory. He pressed his thumb against the indentation at the top, depressed “start,” and waited for it to perform whatever bioanalytics it needed. The wait was almost alarmingly short.