Crossways: A Psi-Tech Novel by Bedford Jacey

Author:Bedford, Jacey [Bedford, Jacey]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2015-08-03T16:00:00+00:00

Cara fought down her nerves as the liner landed at Arkhad Spaceport and spat them all out into the immigration lineup. The only way to get through this was to relax into the part of the new identity. Believe it. Otherwise the Empaths employed to do random checks might pick out a sense of unease and start asking too many questions.

Cara looked at them all. It was amazing what a difference a few simple formine injections and a new haircut made. Bronsen’s cap of tight curls had given way to a severe tonsure that made him look bald except for a fringe of close-cropped hair around the back and sides. Archie had exchanged his normal mouse-brown for ginger everything, and Ronan’s skin had been darkened to copper, his luxuriant mop bleached blond and his lips thickened.

“Have we all got the details straight?” Cara asked.

Archie said he could handle it, but Bronsen had been nervous until Ronan had given him something to calm him down.

They got through without a hitch, thanks to Mother Ramona’s careful work and their thorough immersion in their new characters. Once out of the spaceport they headed straight for the nearest dockside bar, still quiet at this time in a morning, and ordered beer all around, though Ronan wouldn’t let Bronsen have more than a sip of his until the sedative wore off.

Cara contacted Hilde. All of the mercs had receiving implants, but only a handful were true psi-techs. Hilde was a Psi-3 Telepath.

*I’m good to go whenever you are,* Hilde said. *I put Lorin on a shuttle to New Rio. Where she goes from there is her own business, but I advised her to make it somewhere she can get lost and settle down with her bank account for company.*

But when Cara contacted Tengue it was a different story. *We’re being watched,* he said. *We got through immigration with a few awkward questions. Fowler’s in the burn unit. She had her surgery and she’s doing well. We can give ’em the slip as soon as we need to, but not until we need to, otherwise they’ll get suspicious.*

“So we’ll have to do the recce ourselves,” Ronan said.

“The sooner the better.” Cara drained her beer. “Drink up, let’s go.”

They checked into a cheap hotel, once quite plush, but now showing signs of age and neglect. Maybe it had once had a name but it didn’t now. All it said on the sign outside was “Rooms.”

“I’ve been here before,” Archie said. “Not here here, but places like it.”

“Even smells familiar,” Bronsen said.

Cara wrinkled her nose. “Well, it’s got a functioning link, plumbing, and beds without fleas. That’s a plus in a place like this.”

They hit the link.

“There’s a grapple match tomorrow evening,” Ronan said. “The semifinal. It means there will be more people around than usual and tickets for tourists. It’s probably the best opportunity we’ll get.”

“For a recce or the job?” Archie asked.

“Maybe both,” Cara said. “We might not get a second chance.”

“I’m going to try Nan one more time.

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