Chapter Six

Yedda groaned as the sound of running outside his chamber door woke him. The heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and back again. There. Someone else was running the other way, now. Whispers. Senses of urgency maybe even a little panic.

“A decent night’s sleep is my goal,” he murmured, lying back and covering his eyes with his arm. “Just an hour or two. Just five minutes.” He rolled over, his mouth dry and his head aching. He had not received a decent night of rest since the Minds had been ‘escorted’ from Chinngard a fortnight ago, something the physician had blamed on stress. He groaned again and kicked the blankets off, wondering if a flood of fresh air to his clammy body would help him sleep.

Now the voices outside in the hall were many. He recognised two, Arkin and the Nurse who had been stationed to look after his sister. He also heard a ruckus further down the hallway. That was his mother’s voice. She sounded upset, even though she was trying to keep her voice low. He then heard the door of the next chamber open, his brother Simion’s chamber.

“Go back to bed, Simion.” That was his father.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with mother?”

Yedda was sitting up, now, his head slightly cocked to hear better. He slipped from his bed, donned a light gown, and stepped up to his door.

“Simion, there is nothing to be worried about. Go back to bed and we’ll talk in the morning.”

A pause. Simion’s door closing. His father walking back down the corridor, saying, “Doctor Turor. Have you discerned anything?”

The doctor’s voice was loud to begin with, but quietened, no doubt from a signal from his father. “I haven’t seen anything like it. I will have to get her to the medibay.”

Her? My sister?

My mother?

Yedda slowly thumbed the panel on the wall next to the door, disconnecting the hydraulics that opened the door automatically. He hooked a thumb into the hole at the top and slid the door back ever so slightly. Through the gap he could see only a little of the corridor. He was afraid of opening it any further in case someone noticed his scrutiny.

He could see his father’s back, and part of the back of the doctor, but nothing else. The corridor was brightly lit and several guards were lining the walls, trying to keep their eyes forward but glancing down the corridor towards his sister’s chamber.

“Very well. Arkin, escort the doctor and my daughter to the medibay. Have a guard placed on the door.”

What was going on? What was wrong with his sister? Was she in danger?

He saw the nurses hurry past, and then his mother came up to stand by his father. He could see her profile, could see the look of confusion and panic. He frowned.

Then he saw Arkin walking slowly past, his loaded pistol hanging from his hip and his sword was strapped tightly to his back. He also wore an energy shield, deactivated so that it just appeared to be a decoration of some sort on his wrist. He was prepared for something dangerous. What was going on?

He was about to open the door and enquire when the doctor walked past.

He was holding the hand of a child, maybe about two years old, with bright green eyes and jet-black hair. She had tatters of a baby’s suit about her, as if she had suddenly expanded and destroyed them, but was also covered in a shawl.

Suddenly expanded...

His throat seemed to close, and the blood pumping into his head suddenley seemed to thicken, making the veins on his temple stand out and his hands tremble.

That couldn’t possibly be his sister? What was happening to her?

She turned her head slowly and looked directly at him. He felt as though he was falling into those green eyes, felt as though a part of him was being torn from his body and added to her own. He shook uncontrollably, and she turned away and allowed herself to be lead by the doctor. His mother walked quickly after them.

His father just stood, immobile, his back still turned to him, his fists clenching and unclenching. He sighed deeply.

“Go back to bed, Yedda,” the Baron said without turning.

Yedda slowly slid the door shut, put his back against it and slid to the floor. He was still shaking, his hands were tingling with what felt like pins and needles and he was thirsty and cold. He realised he must be in shock. What had he just seen?

He began to squeeze his eyes shut and force breath from his lungs as if trying to force himself awake. Then he pinched his skin roughly on the back of his hand and grimaced at the pain and the flood of tingling it caused. He was not asleep.

He stood as if drunk and crossed to the bed, sitting on the side of it and reaching into his bedside locker for a glass of juice. After several long draughts, wishing it was Vineau; he lay back slowly and stared at the ceiling.

Was that his sister? Why had she aged so dramatically? She was only just over two weeks old and the physician said she was perfectly healthy; a gene scan had raised no imperfections.

Yes, no imperfections. Doctor Turor had said that every genetic scan he did turned up some form of imperfection which were not serious or debilitating, but her scan had turned out clean on all counts, a rare thing. His mother had been delighted, his father had been, too, but he seemed to remember Lord Verid give a none-too convincing smile and words of congratulations. Did he suspect something?

Yedda lay that way for the rest of the evening. When the red sunrise pierced his curtains and then his eyelids, he got up and went to shower. All night his mind had been filled with strange thoughts and visions. When, or if, he saw his sister this morning, how old would she be then? Ten? Twenty? Would she have the brain of an adult or a baby? Would she know who he was? Would she know who anyone was?

As the warm water splashed over him, he pushed his fists against his head and tried to force the images from his mind.

He stepped into the drier, and then walked back into his room where the attendants had laid out a fresh uniform. As he began to don it there was a shallow knock at the door.

“It’s open.”

The door slid open and Corii entered, already groomed and dressed. He was wearing his riding gear, obviously ready to go on another of his riddabeast jaunts across the palace grounds. He was agitated.

“Simion said something strange was happening last night. What do you know about it?”

As Corii walked across the room, Yedda noticed he was carrying some kind of device, a flat disc like a large coin and several antennae reaching down below it. “What’s that?”

Corii looked down at the device as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh, it’s a monitor. Arkin says that every high-ranking House member has to have one from now on. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

As he spoke, another device the same as the one in his hands drifted in, it’s probes waving slightly. It settled into a hovering position exactly a meter over his left shoulder.

“We’ve got to have these things following us around. They’re programmed to call for help should anything happen to us.”

“What is Arkin afraid of happening to us?”

“He’s not sure, which worries me. Here.” Corii handed the disc to Yedda and pointed to a small lens at one edge of the disc. “Look into that and press the green button on the underside. It’ll take your image and store it, and then follow you around like a damn riddabeast pup.”

Yedda held the machine gently, not sure how sturdy it was, and looked into the lens as if having a picture taken. He pressed the button, and the disc immediately began to hiss and it pulled from his hands, shooting up into the air. It’s probes started waving, too, and it settled into a position the same as Corii’s had.

“Great.” Yedda looked up at the disc with distaste. “It’s not enough our lives are scrutinised outside the palace...”

“Yedda, are you going to tell me what happened?”

There was long silence as Yedda sorted through his thoughts. Then he grabbed a cloak and walked to the door. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

The brothers slowly walked through the halls of the palace to the courtyard, the two monitors hovering obediently over their shoulders. Yedda told his brother everything he had seen, being careful to keep his voice down when an attendant walked past.

They walked into the courtyard as a riddabeast was being lead up to the steps. Its two legs were powerful and thick, its saddle hard and sturdy, its neck long and muscled. Yedda finished his story as the attendant walking the animal handed the reigns to Corii.

“I can’t believe it,” Corii murmured. “Why haven’t they said anything to us?”

“They probably don’t know enough themselves to tell us anything. Hey, don’t you usually have target practice today?”

“Usually, but Arkin is a bit tied up with our sister. Her naming is only a few days away.”

Yedda nodded, “I know. I just wish I knew what was going on. I’m afraid for her.”

Corii nodded back. “Things haven’t been the same since those Minds came, and we still don’t know much about what happened to Filli the night she died. Things are getting confusing around here, and I feel like...”

“Feel like what?”

“I don’t know... like there’s a huge hole opening up and we can’t do anything but fall into it. I’m going for a ride, get out for a while, clear my head. Want to come?”

Yedda contemplated going out for a while, but declined. “I want to try and see father.”

“Okay. I’ll be back for a game of strategy at second bell.”

Corii attached the reigns to the riddabeast’s earrings, swung up into the saddle and urged the animal forward. He gave his brother a weak smile and rode out of the gate, which had been opened to allow a hovering troop transport to enter. His monitor buzzed and swooped after him in pursuit. Yedda watched the troops climb out of the vehicle, which resembled a huge sand beetle, in a perfect line, armed with blaster rifles and long knives that doubled as bayonets. On an order from their commander they broke ranks and dispersed to strengthen the military presence within the walls.

What were they preparing for? Yedda watched the soldiers take positions along the palace wall and at the entrances to the palace itself. Who would attack? Surely his father did not consider his heated words during the meeting with the Minds sharp enough to cause a conflict?

Looking at the troop build-up, evidently he did.

He turned and started to walk back to the palace doorway, where he saw Mind Hillit standing. Minds. His father had been correct in judging them as untrustworthy. He gave the Mind a scowl and started to walk past him.

But the Mind stepped out and caught his attention.

“Excuse me, sir. I need a moment of your time.”

Yedda was surprised at hearing the Mind’s natural voice, and it sounded normal enough to tell him that Hillit had only recently been able to master the art of telepathic conversation. He obviously thought his natural voice was a normal way to communicate.

Still, he had no intention of standing talking to this man. “What is it?”

“I need to have a word with you, sir. It’s very important.”

Yedda narrowed his eyes and looked around quickly. “Well?”

“It’s just that I am under orders to serve your House, which I am glad to do, but I am also under orders to put the Mindmoon first. Obey the orders they give me, no matter if it’s the Lordmind or the Mothermind or a Cheifmind, but there’s some things I have to do I don’t like and...”

What? Yedda’s face screwed up in confusion. What is this babbling about?

“Slow down! I have not the faintest idea what you’re trying to tell me. Start again.”

Mind Hillit was all nerves and wringing hands. He was trying to tell the son of the Baron something important, but obviously trying to do it quickly before courage left him.

“Sir, I have to warn you of something. I shouldn’t, but I just cannot stand by and let this happen.”

Yedda was now concerned and curious at the same time. He took the Mind by the elbow and ushered him into the palace towards the enhancer room.

“Tell me. It concerns my sister, doesn’t it?”

After a few seconds of contemplation, Hillit nodded. “The Lordmind had decreed that the child must be handed over to him on the Mindmoon. He has asked the Prime Lord for help, but the Prime Lord has declined to take any... direct action.”

Yedda was wide-eyed and afraid. What did he mean ‘direct action’? What did his grandfather intend to do?

“There is a spy here on Chinngard. This spy has been instructed to monitor the child and report back to the Lordmind and the Prime Lord.” After Hillit said the word ‘monitor’, Yedda suddenley remembered the device hovering over his shoulder. He reached up and pressed the green button, deactivating the monitor and leaving it hovering.

“Who is this spy?”

“I don’t know. I receive messages in secret and leave them in secret, slipping notes into a vase outside the enhancer room. I am instructed to transmit these messages over the enhancer.”

Yedda took a long hard look at the Mind in front of him. Was this some kind of Mind trick, filling his head full of doubts and worries before trying a new line of attack?

“You do realise that by telling me this you have broken your vow of secrecy over enhancer transmissions and will be executed if captured by the Mindmoon?”

Hillit nodded and looked to the floor. “I know. But most Minds on the Mindmoon detest the Lordmind and do not agree with his methods. I am his personal acolyte. I hate him most of all. He has bought in new doctrines and rules that have turned most of the Ki-Ki Sector against us. He revels in the power he has and he is using it for personal gain and not the benefit of the sector or the Minds. What he is doing here, working in concert with the Prime Lord to basically kidnap a child of a House for no other reason than to study her. I’m sorry, that’s wrong. I can’t be a part of that.”

There was a long pause, and for a brief moment Yedda began to pity the man. He was in an awkward position and was trying to do his best. He was surprised to see real emotion on the man’s face, always having the impression that Minds were soulless and contrived.

“So what do they plan?”

“I don’t know. At the moment it’s just progress reports.”

“Why didn’t you come to us sooner?”

“Because something happened with the child last night. I don’t know what it was, and neither does the spy, evidently, but the last message I was supposed to transmit was advising the Lordmind to take action in getting the child now before anything else happens.”

“Did you transmit?”

“No. Here.” Mind Hillit took a small oblong chip from the folds of his cloak and handed it to Yedda. “This is the message. Now, I must go and send a false report.”

Hillit began to turn, but Yedda grabbed him. “Why? Why are you doing this? And why not go to my father?”

“I’m doing this because it is the right thing to do. I’m also doing it because I’m from Chinngard. My father was a captain in Hutra Province Defence Force. My powers manifested when I was older, and I was simply taken away from my family. I can never forgive the Mindmoon for destroying my life. Now I have a chance to do something about it. And I told you because if I went to your father he would publicise this and use me as his evidence.”

“He wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I can’t take that chance. You can say you simply found the chip with the message, and maybe an investigation can be instigated and the spy caught. I will not be involved.”

Yedda squeezed the chip in the palm of his hand, and Mind Hillit turned, the look of worry back on his face as he walked quickly into the enhancer room and closed the door.

The monitor squeaked, reminding Yedda it was still turned off. He reached up and re-activated it. Then he grabbed the device and smashed it into the vase outside the chamber door, giving the impression that the monitor had malfunctioned and hit the antique. Then he walked to his father’s rooms to inform him of what he had learned. He decided to keep Hillit’s name out of the equation.

The Monitor floated behind, dipping occasionally.