Outcast: Book Four of the Rim Chronicles, #4

By Edita A. Petrick

Ages-old conflict could be resolved with a new weapon…but at what cost?

 

Kitaya is a foundling. Her savage name makes her an outcast. History full of tales of enemy spies inserted into the ranks of humans as clones, is a padlock on her rightful place in the ranks of the DeWynter aristocracy. She is alternately feared and scorned, depending on what relative crosses her path. She backs away from every conflict before it even starts to heat up. Retreat makes her invisible. It's precisely what Karin told her to do in order to safeguard her future…and that of every living creature in the galaxy.

 

But there is one conflict that rises in their path that neither Karin nor Kitaya can ignore.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edita A. Petrick
• Release date: Oct 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386551034

Edita A. Petrick

I'm a writer. That's all that can be said here. I love writing and I absolutely hate marketing. It just goes to show you where your natural talents lie. Writing comes easy. Marketing...that's something I will be learning until the day I die. All I can say about my books is that they're meant to entertain.

Book preview

Chapter One

Kitaya’s long ear came back without a warning. She sat on a stone wall that separated the inner parvis from the neatly trimmed, austere Singing Gardens. She wished she could fly across the great distance of the starfields that separated her from Karin. The last time she spoke with her friend, Karin said that she had transferred to a true hospital ship; the kind that had all the latest technology needed to mend human flesh and spirit and very little in the form of advanced weaponry. The Mercy-class Queen Berenice was currently orbiting a small mining colony. The workforce was struck with a mysterious fever that had left half the camp mute. If she could only be next to Karin, she wouldn’t even mind if the fever struck her mute; besides, someone as sensitive as Karin didn’t need words. One look was all she’d need to know and feel the depth of Kitaya’s misery.

The Opaldeene Palace always echoed with voices of one or other member of the royal family. Someone was always giving orders, threatening punishment or, worse, an outright dismissal. Someone was always criticizing and dressing down the service staff for faulty service. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter. The Dyonaire Dynasty was not known for its compassion.

The speakers’ voices came alive as if she had stuck her head through a window into another dimension.

It’s been nearly two years, and she hasn’t shown any improvement, King Omaran said.

At her age, her mother was already showing an interest in boys. We should hold an ancestral fair and invite a suitable crowd of DeWynter lords. It’s how her mother met her future husband, you know, said Queen Sonata. Kitaya nearly fell off the wall. Balancing herself with her hands, she managed to turn her head and saw an empty courtyard. There was absolutely no one around as far as her eye could see. And yet she had just heard a voice as if her grandmother was standing right behind her. The queen’s voice was normally loud and clear. Her grandmother believed that service staff had defective hearing as a result of their low social position.

She backed away from the wall, turned, then ran to the edge of the grassy clearing. Any further and she’d have left the buffer zone. It was as much a security measure as it was a nature preserve. However, the voices of her grandparents didn’t fade, and neither did their volume.

I’m afraid, my dear, that’s not the way I remember it, King Omaran said. Kitaya heard him as clearly as if he was standing before her. She licked her lips and closed her eyes. Then she let her body do what it wanted to do—lower itself to come to rest on a soft lawn that was a result of rabid over-seeding.

Of course, of course; the fault is mine. It is your time. I yield to your decisions, the queen said. Kitaya imagined she heard her knee creak as it usually did when she curtsied before her husband after a particularly brazen display of initiative. The Bollidor royal regime would be in the patriarchal mode for at least another five, six months; during this time, all the decisions would be made by her grandfather. He didn’t have to consult his wife on anything. After all, when her turn came, and the Dyonaire Dynasty slipped into the matriarchal mode, it would be Queen Sonata who would deliver her orders at the top of her voice, unmindful that her husband stood right behind her.

I did not mean to chastise, dear, the king said. He was far more inclined to at least indirectly include his wife in the decision-making than she was during her matriarchal mode. But there is that commemorative portrait we have, the one that usually floats above the Blue Pipe. It shows Melody next to Daniel at his graduation ceremony from the academy. And if I’m not mistaken, there used to be another one somewhere in the library that shows Melody and Daniel, hugging. I believe she had just been awarded her doctorate in linguistics. They met in school, dear, the king hastened to clarify, as if his wife’s silence troubled him.

You’re right, of course, the queen said. And not just because we’re in the patriarchal position. I remember now. Melody did meet Daniel in school. She was a guest lecturer at the academy. That’s how they met. I’m afraid this girl is very different. Genetic map or not, I don’t see any reflection of our Melody in her. She won’t make friends; she creeps around, and I dare say she’s used every shadow that there is to hide. She avoids not just her cousins but all human beings. That’s just not natural. We’ll be the laughing stock of the entire Allied Domain when it’s discovered that she’s some kind of defective Shoultain clone sent to exterminate the royal Dyonaire family.

It is possible she is defective, my dear, but she’s not a clone, King Omaran said. Kitaya heard it in his voice that he was not comfortable with his wife’s entertaining such sentiments. True or not, things that were spoken in the palace had a tendency to travel far beyond the city limits; even beyond Bollidor. And Bollidor was one of the six Core worlds comprising the great Confederation of Allied Planets and Star Systems. It was a 'cornerstone' world.

You probably had to spend a fortune to bribe the stuffy Fleet brass to let her into the academy. Riopelle Luna Five is top-notch; I’m surprised they let her in on probation. Mind you, it’s not like she’s actually there. It’s all distance learning, so we have time to slip in some software package that’ll tone down her errors when the testing starts…. The queen’s voice trailed off.

King Omaran was silent for a long time. Kitaya thought her grandfather must have fallen asleep listening to his wife make plans to safeguard the academic excellence of the Dyonaire lineage.

Finally, he said, Actually, dear, I didn’t even know she was taking the entrance exams until one of the proctors at the academy called me to say that she’d placed in the top ten and would I want her to go on to the next set of tests for advanced placement. I said no because it shocked me to hear it…but she is definitely not on probation.

She could be just a very good cheater. She must have learned all kinds of tricks out there in the Rimworlds. It’s an outer rim, uncharted territory, and lying right next to that viper’s nest, the New Hebrides. Nothing but pirates and scum move through those parts. Let’s hold an ancestral fair and find some DeWynter lord who is not particular about pedigree and get rid of her.

She is Melody’s child, my dear, King Omaran pointed out in a gentle tone of voice. Kitaya knew that he worried about contradicting his wife, regardless what mode they were in.

Who says? Some silly orphaned kid who isn’t even old enough to babysit, never mind run medical tests.

Age, like size, is a very deceptive measure of intelligence and strength, the king said. Especially when it comes to Dr. Karin Vexley. Her work carries highest integrity. She made the girl's genetic map. And that map is a match with her parents, Melody and Daniel. She is our granddaughter, dear, like it or not. We can’t just hand her over to some third-rate DeWynter lord and good riddance. She is a Princess Royal of Bollidor and, as such, must be properly educated.

Well, if you ask me, it’s a waste of time and money, the queen grumbled.

So far, dear, it hasn’t cost us anything. She’s on a full scholarship. But maybe we can start planning that ancestral fair. She won’t stay in school forever, the king said. Kitaya felt that her grandfather just wanted the argument to end. Bollidor was in a patriarchal mode, but Queen Sonata was still very capable of undermining her husband’s authority. King Omaran did not want to risk a disciplinary hearing for his queen. Then, for sure, the Allied Territories would be buzzing with gossip.

The voices died down as suddenly as they had erupted. Kitaya rose from the ground. She sauntered towards the wall. She hated every step she had to take. It brought her closer to the Opaldeene Palace. Voices, not just those of her grandparents but others who lived and worked in the palace, circled in her head like a pack of scavengers. She visualized a black cloud, packed it full of the voices, and pushed it behind her. She didn’t care if it trailed her or not. The moment she crossed the inner courtyard and walked under the great Crystalwood Archway, the voices would assault her, up close and personal. She wasn’t sure how to activate her long ear or shut it off. Perhaps that’s what she should practice for now, and who knows what else might spring open.

Chapter Two

Aweek later, exhausted from all the involuntary eavesdropping, Kitaya let down her guard and ran into a pack of predators. Back home on Synoor, gray hyenas crept along the edge of the jungle, looking for nests where parent birds abandoned their young ones only for the moment it took to find food. There were usually three of them, working as a team. The first one rustled the bushes and sniffed around the nest to make sure the parents weren’t nearby; the second quickly bit the younglings’ necks, and the third tossed the dead birds out onto the moonlit plain where the first predator waited to pick up the spoils of their nocturnal raid.

Her three cousins were very much like the gray plains hyenas on Synoor.

Pranath gave an impression of studying the weather; she looked around, shielded her eyes, peered at the sky, then said, The weather forecast called for sunny skies, but I think it’s going to rain.

Ableth liked to push and shove, or punch and trip, when she thought she could get away with it. She expected the victim to take her cue from Pranath’s upturned head to look at the sky, and then she’d strike. She’d drive her elbow into Kitaya’s side, knocking out her breath, or smack her under the chin or punch her in the stomach then kick her feet from under her. Once she was down, Gerrie would take a picture of Kitaya’s bleeding nose, after she had already filmed the whole incident and conveniently edited out the parts that showed how the victim came to be lying on the gravel footpath, doubled up in pain.

What’s the rush? Someone chasing you…? Pranath leaned to the side as if she was, indeed, trying to see who was chasing Kitaya. Ableth was getting ready to strike, expecting the victim to involuntarily look over her shoulder. Gerrie had her palm-disk recorder charged up and rolling.

Get out of my way, you plains scavengers, Kitaya said and threw her hands wide apart. She expected her cousins to recoil in surprise at such boldness. Instead, the trio flew in three directions, landing on the ground and tumbling backward. Kitaya stood there, stunned by what her gesture had done. Even as she stood there, a voice sounded in her head. Child, I know you’d like nothing better than to break those mind-blocks all at once, but let’s take it easy, all right? Why use a sledgehammer when a wooden stick would do the job just as well?

A day later, Kitaya knew who she was, where she had grown up, and what exactly had happened two years ago in a jungle clearing on a distant world on the Rim. After that, every new day was packed with learning or rather re-learning her Treetop skills and brought on another new discovery. So when the three scavengers booby-trapped her apartment, she made them forget what they had done and let them walk in through the door. The pressure switch set off the sprinkler system that delivered different colored liquid from each of the sprinklers in the ceiling. The color would eventually come off, but vegetable dyes were notoriously stubborn agents. Kitaya remembered sitting with Joshua on a straw pallet under a canvas canopy, watching the Healers dry their herbs and listening to their lecture on the properties of Synoor flora. She used to be a good student and was, once again.

She learned that in order to shut off her long ear, all she had to do was give herself a mental command and the voices would cease as abruptly as they had come. She would lie down on the floor, mentally outline her body, then rise. A flex of her mind-probe and the outline would snap as if spring-loaded and stand before her until she filled it with substance. The first time she made her own avatar, she was so excited she almost ran out to shout about her skills but stopped, halfway to the door. She was in enemy territory; there was no one who cared about her skills and talents, no one who cared whether she lived or died. There was only Karin, and she was thousands of light years away. There were her mothers on Synoor, but other than Playa’s initial contact, no one else came to visit her—not in spirit and certainly not in body. She suspected that Playa had defied Sanubia when she came to acknowledge her accomplishment and offer encouragement to keep working until all the blocks in her mind were broken. But after that initial contact, Playa’s voice had not sounded in her head again. Things had to be pretty bad in Calamora for Playa not daring to visit her again. Had Chatari declared a Milestone Conflict and thus forced a review of leadership? Had Sanubia been unseated? Had her body succumbed to the vagaries of wear and tear and had she had to cocoon herself in order to repair it or weave herself a new one? Kitaya badly wanted to know what was happening in her home and, at the same time, dreaded to find out.

She concentrated on her academy studies and tried to avoid her cousins. And once a week, she made a request, through the royal protocol officer, to be allowed to use a portion of the funds set aside for her studies on a call to the distant reaches of Pericleidas. Her request was not denied, but it usually took a day or two to receive the permission to tie into the Great Galactic Fleet Wormhole Network and wait until Lieutenant-Commander Vexley was available for a face-to-face conference.

You look tired, she said when Karin’s pale face came on screen.

These calls are routed through the artificial worm-hole network. They aren’t cheap. Don’t waste time and your money. Tell me something relevant. Karin’s gruffness always cheered her up.

I know now how to shape-shift.

Don’t do it. You’re in a jungle, but it’s not Synoor. Stay with the plan.

I hear you.

When you say that, I worry. What else have you been up to?

I’m maintaining my class standing.

Excellent. Have you made any friends yet?

No. I made an avatar.

The image rippled as Karin must have shaken her head. In a couple of weeks, I’m going to be on Caritan, updating my medical skills. I’ll take a shuttle to Bollidor. We’ll do something—make plans—and I don’t mean walking through the gardens and listening to their wailing. I’ve enough of that here. Think of something…exciting to do.

I’ll shape-shift both of us….

Don’t you dare! I’ll see you in couple of weeks, Karin said, and the connection went dead.

By the time Karin came down to visit, Kitaya had practiced so hard she could have shape-shifted the entire royal city and hardly broken a sweat. They ended up visiting museums and amusement parks, with four bodyguards in tow. On two occasions, Karin let her practice her 'misdirection' skill on the bodyguards. It earned them five hours of freedom that Karin chose to spend in a street clinic that was located in a colorful, but risky district.

The next time Karin came to visit, Kitaya tried to impress her with her transformation skills. She mutated a bouquet of fragrant bell-flowers and roses that an admirer had sent to Pranath, into a bunch of carnivorous pear-pods native to the Pericleidan worlds. Pranath screamed when she saw a dozen yawning mouths with row upon row of sharp, conical teeth searching for a snack in any direction. Her screams brought in her bodyguards, who followed her outstretched hand, grabbing at the crystal vase that was once again filled with innocent bell-flowers and roses. After Pranath’s screams had brought in her bodyguards for the third time, Karin said, That’s enough, Kit. This isn’t the kind of lesson that’ll leave an impression on your cousin. Pranath is too shallow for that. And your Treetop Magic should not be wasted on such unworthy pursuits. I can only imagine how bad it must be for you here, surrounded by people who want nothing more than to humiliate you, but other than going back to Synoor, I don’t know where you’d feel at home.

Beside you, Kitaya said.

I’ll see what I can do once you graduate, Karin promised. But you still have a way to go.

I could speed up my academic progress.

No. We agreed that we’re going to fly under the radar, Karin said.

I actually know what radar is. Last week, I blinked twice and absorbed the entire library collection that the Fleet has on archeological digs from twentieth-century Earth.

Karin shut her eyes, and Kitaya thought she would turn around and leave. But Karin just opened her eyes again, shook her head, and said, Next time you feel like blinking, absorb the entire collection in any library on self-control and self-discipline. Do it for me, please. If our friendship means anything to you, just do it, all right?

I’m sorry. I know you worry about me. But living here and doing everything at a snail’s pace is torture.

Kit, why do you think the Treetops put those mental blocks in your mind?

Kitaya stared at her friend for a long time.

Karin nodded. All right; I see that we’re on the same track, but let me spell it out for you. A Treetop Witch without discipline could doom not just the human civilizations in this galaxy but the next, and the next—get my point?

When Kitaya continued to stare without saying a word, Karin said, From now on, whenever you’re bored, run through an exercise of what if. What if a bored and disgruntled Treetop Witch left the Calamora and shot out there among the stars, to banish boredom? Just a little entertainment at first—confuse a few folk here and there, make it snow in the tropics, re-shape a few objects, change a few geographical features maybe, a nip and tuck and in place of a mountain chain, there is a crater…maybe the planetary moon needs a facelift, too, and maybe the entire solar system needs to be re-arranged; and those stars nearby—do they really need to be so far…?

I get it, Karin. I get it. And I would never do anything to harm human beings.

That’s the problem, Kit. You may have to. In order to safeguard those you care about or save innocent lives, you may have to use your Treetop Magic, but unless you first learn to discipline yourself, discipline its use, you should not rush to test your skills and talent.

I promise I will practice self-control. I only wish that the Treetops would talk to me; it would make it so much easier. I know there is a lot to learn. You know they wanted me to stay in Calamora and complete my training. I now know why…or maybe I knew all along. I keep reaching out to them, but they won’t speak to me, Kitaya confessed.

Sometimes, the gods must sort things out for themselves before they arrive at the point where you want to meet them, Karin said. You must be patient.

I’m doing my lessons and learning at the same rate as normal human beings. If that’s not patient, what is?

Good point. I don’t know what else to tell you other than be careful when and how you practice your…talent. There are an awful lot of people out there who’d want to bottle it and, if not keep it for themselves, then sell it to the highest bidder. Do you remember that shady character we brought back from the Rimworlds and let off at the Wendigo Trading Station?

Murman Phend. Bresling stranded him on Synoor, but for some reason, I keep thinking that he died a long time ago, Kitaya said. It was one of the memories about her life on Synoor that she could never quite piece together. Any way she tried to fit Phend into the Synoor landscape, his presence just would not fit, and yet he had been very much alive when the CSS Harmond had dropped him off at the Wendigo Station.

I saw him, Karin said.

When, where?

On my way here, on the Middlestorm Colony, at the transfer station. I was taking a shuttle for Caritan, and he was heading out with the Fredoli corporate crowd. Fredoli don’t ask you along, regardless of where they’re going, unless you have something worthwhile to sell.

Did he see you?

Probably. He’s the kind of man who has eyes in the back of his head.

Do you think he’s dangerous? Kitaya asked.

I tried to use my empathic sense, feel something about him, but the strange thing is that I didn’t feel him at all, Kit. It’s as if he wasn’t there.

Just then one of Kitaya’s male cousins decided to drop in on them as a hologram.

Hey, Kathryn, can I have your birthday lottery ticket? he asked.

Hello, Roddick I don’t remember giving you a permission to invade my apartment. And my name is Kitaya, not Kathryn, Kitaya said, glancing at Karin who stared back with a hard wrinkle between the eyes.

Granddad said that you should have a proper name as befits a Dyonaire. Kathryn it is. I think that’s your other grandmother’s name. So, can I have your birthday lottery ticket?

When you follow protocol, then we can discuss birthday tickets, Kitaya said and raised her hand. Karin moved quickly and gripped her wrist, then forced her hand down.

There are a thousand ways to bar you from barging in here ever again, and I’m about to teach Kitaya all of them, so get out, get a permission to enter, and then get another permission to speak with her. Karin let go of Kitaya’s wrist, and the boy’s hologram vanished.