Chapter 3
“Are you sure that was smart, brother?”
Juston’s voice was cold, his eyes narrowed.
Cal sighed. “What choice did I have? I only made it past those cops by using persuasion. If I’d tried to bully my way past the cameras, they might have realized something was amiss.”
Cal had used his power of persuasion, an innate ability in all Vartiks, to hijack their minds for long enough to grant them entry into the Sol System. Now he was exhausted, hoping he’d be able to recharge in the short time before they made it to Mars.
“That doesn’t explain why you had to turn the interview into your own bully pulpit,” Juston grumbled.
With a shrug, Cal hit the controls to increase the ship’s speed. “Serves them right for forcing me to stop. If I’d known about these checkpoints, I would have routed us around them. It’s bad enough that we had to disengage the cloaking device. Who knows who might have detected us while we were waiting in line for that farce of an inspection?”
The funny thing was, it hadn’t been a farce. Not really. The interstellar police were known for their bumbling operations, but the checkpoint process had been conducted with near-military precision, hinting that another force was backing the police.
The Centaurian female’s intel was good. Vanfia had discovered the existence of the Vartik and were methodically working to root them out.As if we need another challenge. As if fighting the forces of Hell itself isn’t enough on our plate already.
It wouldn’t be long now until they arrived at the Red Planet Sanitarium. Cal turned his mind to the mission, deciding now was the appropriate time to cement their strategy.Juston’s gonnalovethis.
“In order to maintain our cover in the sanitarium, we’ll need to do a little play acting,” he began. “I’ll pretend I’m looking for a place for my dear brother to work out his rage issues.”
“Which brother?”
“You.”
Juston was less than amused. “Fuck you, Cal.”
“It’s the easiest way to—”
“Bullshit.” Juston’s expression was granite. “You always give me some half-ass cover story. Not this time. Why can’t you be the one with anger issues?”
“Because, truthfully, I’m not.” He eyed his younger brother. “It will barely be acting for you. Everyone knows you’re still frustrated at the way things went down with the Seekers and Sleep. Use that aggression as your cover. We need someone on the inside, with the inmates. I’ll focus on the staff while you find out what’s really going on inside there.”
Juston folded his arms over his chest. “You’re not doing this to me again. I’m tired of being your errand boy. Take care of this smuggler dealing Vartik blood on the black market. Make this scholar disappear for getting too close to our secret. I’m sick to death of it.”
Cal stared hard at his little brother. “As am I. Don’t think you’re the only one with blood on his hands. Who do you think was doing the heavy lifting when Dad was in charge of the intelligence network?”
His brother shook his head. “I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”
“I’m afraid you are. I’ve already contacted them. I have an appointment to discuss my little brother’s care. And I even sent along a small illustration of your issues.” Cal pulled up the communication he’d sent to RPS earlier. Enclosed was a photo of Cal and Juston. While Cal smiled, Juston scowled in the middle of punching a wall. It was obviously manufactured, but he doubted the humans at RPS would know that.
“You fucking asshole,” Juston breathed, looking at the picture.
“I didn’t want to waste time explaining the roots of your anger issues. A picture’s worth a thousand words. They cleared their schedule to make an appointment available for us today.”
“I swear to the gods that I will get revenge on you one day.”
Cal laughed. “I hope you do. I deserve it.”
They landed not long after, Cal already disturbed by the red planet’s atmosphere. Dust and bones as far as the eye could see. He pitied any creature who was made to exist in the ruins of a civilization that found it easier to hide away its troubled members out of sight so that they become an afterthought, if remembered at all.
Red Planet Sanitarium was one of the mass of huddled buildings around the central water well. Only a few looked to be still inhabited, and RPS was one of the better kept ones. Still, the shiny steel edifice had been scoured by red sand for generations, giving it a dull sheen, every crack and crevice coated with dust.
They approached, hurrying their steps. The surface of the red planet was cold, with temperatures barely above freezing if one was lucky. The harsh climate was one of the safeguards against inmates bolting from the sanitarium, he supposed. That and the desolation they were sure to find, if trying to escape on foot. Then he wondered if any of the folks sequestered here even had the presence of mind to attempt to flee.
They were made to show their identification to the guard stationed behind a thick transparent wall. Cal had ID placards from dozens of worlds, as any spymaster should, so they were quickly granted entry.
Inside, it was much as he’d imagined it would be. Dull walls. Matching floors. Hallways lined with doors. He and his brother were shown into a waiting room while their tour host was summoned.
