Ocean's Echo by Everina Maxwell

Author:Everina Maxwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

CHAPTER 18

The cell door slid aside with the faint hiss of a reinforced mechanism.

“Careful, sir,” the detention guard said. “Are you sure you don’t want them brought to an interview room?”

“What can they do?” Tennal said. “You said you had visuals in the cell. And I thought they were a politician, not a street wrestler.”

He wasn’t expecting what the guard said next, which was “They’re a reader, sir. They might see what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know that?”

The ranker looked surprised. “Everyone knows.”

The governor of a whole station, for years, had been a reader, and everyone on the station knew? Tennal didn’t care about Archer Station’s internal politics, but he felt like someone could have told him. “You know what,” Tennal said, “I think I’ll survive.”

Tennal stepped through the door to the cell, Surit at his back, and let it slide shut behind them.

He had gotten the facts from Surit on the way over. Governor Birimi had been ousted for corruption, the same charge they were still sitting in prison to answer for. Oma had taken over to replace them. Birimi’s supporters had boiled over a couple of weeks afterward, which had added treason to the charge sheet, but Birimi themself didn’t seem violent.

The opposite, in fact. Surit reported Birimi had started in community government after leading a hobbyist group of historical fabric enthusiasts, leading Tennal to instantly dub them Governor Knitting Circle.

And they were a reader. Tennal wasn’t sure why this annoyed him, except he should probably have some kind of commonality with a known reader, and he didn’t, and also he wouldn’t be caught dead at a historical fabrics society.

The room was a decent size, bigger than the quarters back on the Note, but it was clearly a cell. There was a table with a chair, a food dispenser, and a bed. A bunch of flowers on the table gave the room an unexpected splash of color. On the bed, a large person in patterned fabrics had settled down, seated against the wall, their linked hands resting on their stomach, and was taking a nap.

As Tennal came in, their eyes opened.

“Oh, hello,” the prisoner said. “They mentioned a visitor.”

Tennal examined the ex-governor of Archer Station. Their face was soft and rounded, their expression wary and mildly curious. The clothes they wore were strikingly, pointedly civilian: bright, intricate fabrics layered across each other in an explosion of color, and they wore no gender-marks that Tennal could see.

“I would introduce myself,” Birimi said, “but it would be quite strange if you didn’t know who you came to visit. You are…?”

“Tennalhin Halkana,” Tennal said. “Captain, as a matter of fact. This is Lieutenant Yeni. We work for Governor Oma.”

“Oh,” Birimi said. “That’s a pity.”

“Isn’t it,” Tennal agreed. He hadn’t been invited to sit on a chair, so he sat on the edge of the table instead. “It’s not entirely voluntary. Sorry to intrude on you. I expect it’s a never-ending social whirl here—”

“Not precisely, no,” Birimi said, a little wistfully. They didn’t even seem offended.

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