The Seer (Tellaran Series) (26 page)

His face was grim. “Do you think it’s possible that Danlen wasn’t the real target? Do you think someone knows who we are?”

“I didn’t get anything like that from the men who attacked Danlen’s estate,” she said slowly. “They weren’t searching for you or us. They were there for Danlen and Cenon but they were also intent on killing everyone there.”

“They were Utavians. Broc Attar was murdered a few days ago. It could have been revenge.” Jolar let his breath out. “Still that’s it then.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned. “Jolar, someone killed everyone at that estate. We need to find out who.”

“No,” Jolar said firmly. “Finding out who killed Danlen wasn’t our assignment. We were sent to find out who was gathering power on Sertar and get the evidence for the Tellaran Council. We know it was Danlen and I have the datadisk to prove it but I can’t be sure this uplink is secure and I’m not about to broadcast our presence here. If there is something wrong with the Fleet ships we need to get back to Tano so I can transmit this to the Council. FleetSec will have to take the investigation from here.”

She wet her lips. “So,” she said. “We’re done?”

“We’re done here. Our task now is to turn this evidence over. They’ll probably want us back on Tellar for debriefing.”

“And then?”

“You’ll get your ID. We’ll go to Tellar and then Zartan—if I can wait that long to marry you.” His smile was hot. “Then Nima for a long honeymoon.”

She hesitated.

His smile faded. “Right. Jasa.” He sighed. “I
really
hope she’s still in Tano.”

Twenty-seven

An hour later, with the shelter powered down and sealed, they used the groundcar to reach the southern city of Patim-Sertar. Jolar didn’t contact Bruscan until after they had secured a shuttle rental to take them back to Tano. He paid cash for the rental and added an extra ten thousand credits consideration—a staggering sum that widened even the jaded attendant’s eyes – to make sure their names wouldn’t show in the system for at least twelve hours, long after they would arrive in Sertar’s capital.

Jolar was on edge but their return to Tano was an uneventful one. He didn’t begin to relax until they landed at Bruscan’s estate.

Their host, having come out to meet them, took in the rented shuttle and raised his eyebrows.

“You’ll be compensated,” Jolar promised.

“It was a very expensive shuttle,” Bruscan warned.

Arissa gave Jolar a meaningful look.

“Would you accept ‘expensive’, rather than ‘very expensive’?” Jolar asked. “The Tellaran Council doesn’t like ‘very expensive’.”             

After a moment Bruscan gave a short nod. “How was the visit to Danlen’s?”

Jolar took Arissa’s hand and Bruscan’s quick look showed he took that in too.

“I could use some caf,” Jolar said. “I’m sure Arissa would like some tea. Maybe in your office?”

“Of course.” Bruscan glanced over Arissa’s too large dress. “Nela will get your luggage from the shuttle.”

“We came without it,” Jolar said.

Bruscan blinked, his only outward sign of surprise. Once they were settled inside with the door to his office shut Bruscan settled back in his chair to regard them with interest.

“Carlea Renn has invited you and Arissa to a supper party tonight, Jolar,” Bruscan said. “It seems you’ve very much tickled her . . . fancy.”

“Nothing I discovered about Carlea implicates her in what we’re investigating,” Jolar said coolly. “I don’t see any reason to see her again.”

“Can I take that to mean that your investigation is concluded?” asked Bruscan.

Jolar gave a nod. “Danlen Mirat.”

“Huh,” Bruscan murmured, drumming his fingers. “I thought him the least likely of your suspects.”

“He was good at hiding things.”

“As one has to be—to succeed on Sertar.” Bruscan tilted his head. “The rented shuttle and Arissa’s present less-than-flattering ensemble speak to a hasty retreat. Can I assume that Master Mirat is onto your discovery?”

“Danlen’s dead.”

Bruscan frowned. “You killed him?”

“No,” Arissa cried. “Of course not!”

Bruscan glanced between them. “Who then?”

“We don’t know who,” Jolar said. “They killed everyone there except us.”

“Fortunate, indeed,” he said, hiding his distress behind a sardonic smile. Bruscan’s head suddenly came up. “Mirat was married—” 

“Cenon—she’s dead too,” Jolar said quietly.

Bruscan seemed to deflate a little. “A shame. She was a kind woman.” He sighed. “Well, now what?”

“I have to go to the Zartani embassy.” Jolar glanced at Arissa. “Then I have a personal matter to attend to. I expect Arissa and I will leave for Tellar at the earliest opportunity. As soon as tomorrow.” Jolar shifted on the sofa. “Bruscan, I need to ask you to stay with Arissa until I return. I don’t want her to leave your house and I want you to keep security tight. No guests at all. Just until we’re off-world.”

Bruscan frowned. “You think someone knows who you are?”

“The evidence I needed is safe,” Jolar said firmly. “I don’t have any reason to think our cover has been blown, and those implicated are dead.” He looked at Arissa again. “But—”

“Of course.” Bruscan gave a faint smile. “I’ll keep her safe for you.”

Jolar entered the Zartani embassy at mid-afternoon. Done in the traditional Zartani style of gleaming dalsawood and large windows it was a mute testament to his homeworld’s wealth and power.

The embassy compound was made up of several buildings including offices, quarters for staff and the ambassador’s mansion. Technically he now stood on Zartani ground and the laws of his homeworld applied here.

He had intended to hand the disk over to the ambassador to transmit to the Council but found himself standing before Rekan d’Barat, the Junior Councilor—now Acting Councilor of Zartan—who rose from his place behind the ambassador’s desk to greet him.

“Lord d’Tural,” he said pleasantly, offering his hand. Not as tall as Jolar, his hair a few shades darker, Rekan still bore the stamp of a Zartani aristocrat in his bearing. “A pleasure to see you again.”

Jolar gave a nod. “I prefer ‘Commander’ if you don’t mind.”

“As you like, Commander.” Rekan waved him to a chair. “Please, sit.” Rekan went back to his chair behind the desk.

“Where is Ambassador d’Serrat?”

Rekan looked surprised. “Attending the memorial for Councilor de’Par on Zartan.”

Jolar’s brow creased. “You aren’t attending Dacel’s memorial?”

Rekan spread his hands. “I am Acting Councilor of Zartan. Like yourself, Commander, I have duties that I cannot leave at the moment. I agreed months ago to present at the trade commission and I barely arrived in time to attend the final day of meetings. My schedule is overwhelmed with responsibilities. I will be returning to Zartan to pay my respects at Dacel’s grave and to call on his family at the earliest opportunity.”

Dacel’s family. Gods, what they must be going through now  . . .

Jolar swallowed. “Yes, I will do so as well as soon as I return home.”

“I wish that I had been apprised of your mission here earlier,” Rekan said. “And when the Councilor was lost to us—”

“Do you know what happened?” Jolar asked tightly. “Do you know—do you know why?”

Rekan shook his head. “I’m afraid we have many more questions than answers. The investigation into his death still in the early stages.”

“TelSec must have some idea what happened,” Jolar said sharply. “Dacel was Zartani Councilor. You’d think someone would have answers by now.”

Rekan folded his hands. “Dacel’s death is a great loss to Zartan, Commander. A great loss to the Realm. I’m sure TelSec will submit their findings soon. Believe me when I say that getting those findings, those answers, is one of my top priorities.”

“I’m sorry,” Jolar said. “He was my friend.”

Rekan’s face was grim. “He was mine too.”

“I have the evidence he asked me to gather, along with my findings.” Jolar pulled the datadisk from his pocket. “What I discovered was very disturbing.”

Rekan gave a nod. “We should transmit the information immediately. With your permission I’d like to ask two of the ZarSec officers assigned to the embassy to step in and bear witness.”

“Of course.”

The uniformed ZarSecs came at Rekan’s summons and both offered Jolar respectful nods. Jolar handed over the datadisk and the men watched as Rekan transferred the information for transmittal to the Tellaran Council. Rekan then took the datadisk and placed it in a safe in the Ambassador’s office.

Rekan nodded to the men, dismissing them.

“Well,” Rekan said heavily. “It’s in the Council’s hands now but I’m sure they will have questions for you. Is there anything else I can assist you with right now, Commander? My schedule is very full and I have a great deal to attend to.”

Jolar’s fingers rested on dalsawood desk and made a sudden decision. “There’s a young woman assigned to this mission with me—Arissa Legan. I think it best if she and I relocated here to Zartani soil until we return to Tellar. Can you arrange a shuttle and ZarSec officers for her protection?”

“Certainly,” Rekan said. “Allow me to have a word with my secretary about living quarters. I can have him book your transport to Tellar as well.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jolar said.

Something was nagging at him and the sooner he got Arissa under the protection of the Zartani, the better he’d feel.

He contacted Arissa to tell her of the change of plans and spoke to Bruscan as well. The ZarSec and a shuttle bearing the Zartani emblem were already on their way to collect her. Arissa would be safely on Zartani soil within the hour.

The uneasy feeling kept gnawing at him but it was
possible that the coming meeting had him so on edge he was overreacting.

Jasa had never been an easy woman to deal with.

Still it was a relief to find her still in the city. She readily agreed to a meeting and welcomed him warmly when he arrived at her rented house. It was a well appointed home, elegant as Jasa herself.

Not for Jasa the trailblazing eccentricity of a plexisteel floor over languorously swimming fish nor the tasteful but opulent soaring spaces of Bruscan’s mansion. He could not even imagine her willingly occupying the rough comfort of Danlen’s country home.

Highlighted by pure white trim, watered citrine shimmersilk covered the walls of the sitting room she led him to. Tall windows—high enough for a man to stand in—encircled the room and provided a dazzling view of the sunset and the gathering cool shadows of the garden below.

Chairs, sofas and tables were scattered about. It was a well-thought-out design, pleasing to the eye but not a comfortable room nor a space that invited one to linger.

Jasa’s gown today was cream-colored and hugged her curves enticingly, her light golden hair worn up with tiny pearls interwoven into it. Looking at her now, Jolar thought that the sitting room’s amber shimmersilk furniture and floors of blond wood seemed deliberately intended to frame the perfection that was Jasa.  

He was willing to bet it wasn’t an accident either.

“Can I get you anything? I purchased some of that Niman brandy you are so fond of.” A sultry smile touched her full, pink mouth as she glanced at him sidelong. “In hopes you might find time to visit me after all.”

“No, thank you,” Jolar said. “I’m glad to find you still in Tano. I thought you might have left for Zartan, now that the trade conference is over.”

Jasa sat on one of the amber colored chairs and extended her hand, inviting him to a chair opposite.

Jolar blinked. He recognized this chair. A copy of one she’d had made upon their betrothal to accommodate his larger frame more comfortably when he visited her home. He wondered if she’d ordered the rental’s sitting room redecorated to suit it.

“I’ll stand,” he said.