Crystal Enchantment Read online

  "No. I know him by reputation only. Very fortunately, we haven't crossed paths."

  "The fact that they're sending him on this mission suggests that they're taking this troublemaker very seriously."

  "And that's why you've insisted that we become involved too?"

  "Of course." Malvina Taran smiled. "I convinced the Council that if this man has succeeded in stirring up troubleand they can't deny that he hasthen we should send a representative as well. I pointed out to them that people who may be convinced that a Warlock has appeared among them are likely to respond better to a Whisperer who happens to be Tevingian than they would to a Vantran."

  "I'm rather surprised that Panera has agreed to this."

  "So am I, frankly. He's always worked alone in the past, picking up native translators as needed. And given who he is, I can't imagine that his superiors could put any real pressure on him." Malvina frowned with concern. "I pushed for this, Jalissa, but now I can't help fearing that the Special Agency could have a reason of their own for agreeing. It's possible that they might try to discredit you."

  "Or get me killedlike Nydia."

  "We never had proof of that, though I consider it likely that they did have a hand in it. You must be very careful, Jalissa."

  Careful indeed, Jalissa thought. I must be far more careful than you can possibly imagine.

  And yet sometimes Jalissa thought that Malvina could imagine her secret. They'd never spoken of it, of course, but Malvina was the one who'd recruited Jalissaand she was also Tevingian.

  She left Malvina's office and returned briefly to her own, where she quickly completed a report Malvina had gently reminded her was overdue. Then she left for her home in the hills outside the city.

  Once inside her small but luxurious house, Jalissa stripped off the pale, shimmering robe her profession required and put on more comfortable clothing. The Whisperers all started out being very proud of the uniform of their high office. Its fabric had been designed to match as closely as possible the rainbow effect of the crystals. But pride invariably gave way to displeasure with the bulkiness of the garment and the instant identification it brought them.

  When they were working, that identification was necessary, but here on Vantra, Whisperers tended to be greeted with the icy formality Van- trans reserved for those they didn't like but must of necessity tolerate. And in Jalissa's case, that was made all the more difficult because most Vantrans also recognized her as being from Tevingi: the old ally of their ancient enemy, the Coven.

  Because it was home to the Federation, Vantra counted among its population people from every world in the galaxy. Van, its capital, was therefore the most cosmopolitan of cities and an extraordinarily beautiful place. But it was still dominated, as was the Federation, by a race that believed itself to be superior to all others, thanks to its science and military power.

  After strolling a bit in her beloved garden and plucking a few dead blossoms here and there, Jalissa went into the room she used as a home workplace, slid into the comfortable chair and keyed up her comm unit, then settled back. She scrolled through the news first, ordering it to stop when she saw the item about the man she would soon be seeking.

  It was obvious that the news service was downplaying the incidents, but that was scarcely surprising. All interplanetary news was controlled by the Vantrans, who had built the service employing the same crystals used by Jalissa and her colleagues. When cut in a certain way, the crystals acted as powerful transmittersfar better than anything science could come up with.

  The Vantrans never actually lied about the news, but by playing up or de-emphasizing various stories, they certainly had an impact on how people throughout the galaxy saw things. They were very clever people, in effect the rulers of the galaxy. But they always made it appear that they were firm believers in galactic democracy.

  Jalissa frowned, thinking about this man she would be seeking. Was it possible that he was what he claimed to be: a Warlock? Malvina had laughed off the possibility, but Jalissa knew that she'd have to find out before she set off in search of him. She was inclined to doubt it, however. Surely if he were, she would have been told by now.

  The galactic news ended and the comm inquired if she wished to review the planetary news. She declined, then issued the instructions that would link her to the Trans/Med comm. A voice print was demanded and she spoke the requested phrase. The menu appeared and she selected ''Intelligence ReportsSpecial Agents," then ordered up the file for Miklos Panera.

  Jalissa knew that biographical files always began with a holo of the subject, but that knowledge didn't prevent her from drawing in her breath sharply when his image appeared on the screen. She stared at it until it vanished as the comm went on to provide information. Then she ordered it back again.

  He was a handsome mannot surprising, since the Vantrans were known for their uncom- mon physical beauty and athletic grace. It was rumored that long ago in their history, they had improved themselves through genetic tinkering and even selective breeding. If that was true, then they'd certainly succeeded to the greatest extent possible with Miklos Panera.

  Panera's features were classically perfect according to the Vantran standards that had become more or less the standards of the galaxy. He had a boldly masculine face: square-jawed and cleft-chinned. Like all Vantrans, he had that skin tone that was midway between her own pale shade and the darker browns and blacks of other races.

  His hair, worn slightly longer than was common in the rest of the military, was a deep, burnished gold and slightly wavy, swept away from his face in a manner that seemed only to increase his look of arrogance.

  But for all that, it was his eyes that captured the attention: clear, vivid green eyes that she'd never seen anywhere else, save for a few Vantrans.

  Jalissa had long since become accustomed to the tall, haughty Vantrans, but something about Miklos Panera disturbed her greatly. Exactly what the nature of that disturbance was, she couldn't say, but it had a strangely sensual element to it that made her move on quickly.

  She barely skimmed the basic biographical data since, like everyone else, she knew who he was. He was , eight years older than she was. And he was the eldest son of the most powerful family on Vantra, descended from the ancient rulers of this place. The family's wealth and power were detailed at great length, but she ignored that because everyone who lived on Vantra knew the history of the Panera family.

  He was single and childlessnot at all surprising for a Special Agent, all of whom were Vantran. Marriage and family customs varied from world to world, but Vantrans were known to be very family-centered, and given that Special Agents spent even more time away from home than Whisperers, they rarely married until they retired. She wondered about Panera, though. Surely there must be pressures to produce an heir.

  His education also was no surprise. He'd studied at the Federation Academy, the most prestigious institution of learning in the galaxy, where she herself had also studied. Then, after a year at the military school, he'd done a two-year stint of duty at various high-risk posts, mostly on the Outer Ring, the group of planets at the edge of the galaxy that were only nominally under the control of the Federation. He'd achieved top honors in school, and had a slew of decorations for bravery.

  Then he had joined the Special Agency, the secretive, elite branch of the military that was at the very heart of the Federation's control of the galaxy.

  Finally, onto the screen came his record as a Special Agent, with the cautionary note that it was incomplete and possibly erroneous in details. Trans/Med did their best to keep tabs on the Special Agents, but their resources were limited.

  Some of what she saw was already familiar: times when he'd clashed on various missions with her own colleagues. His reputation was such that some Whisperers had been known to give up and leave when they found out he was involved in a particular situation.

  Because the Special Agency was composed entirely of Vantrans, while her own Trans/Med Service consisted of r
epresentatives from the other Federation worlds, clashes were inevitable. But there was far more to it than that. Trans/Med sought to defuse potentially explosive situations through mediation, while the Special Agencydespite its noisy disclaimerswas known to foment rebellion if it suited their purposes. On multi-ethnic worlds, they frequently courted the most compliant group, and then set about making them the rulers.

  Jalissa was fuming silently at their unconscionable meddling when a date and place caught her attention and she ordered a halt to the slowly scrolling recitation. She read the brief information on the incident, then sat there frowning. Eight years ago, when she was a -year-old novice, she'd been among a small group of other novices sent with a Whisperer to what had seemed at the time to be a minor territorial dispute on a hitherto peaceful world. But the situation had escalated suddenly into horrendous violence. Later, they'd discovered that the territory in dispute held valuable rare mineral deposits unknown to the combatants, but almost certainly known to the Special Agency.

  At one point, Jalissa had been cut off from her colleaguesright in the middle of a laser battle that shouldn't have happened.

  Horrified by her first glimpse of such violence, she hadn't at first realized that she could take herself away from it. After all, she'd never had to use her secret talents before. Then, just as she remembered that she could 'port beyond the range of the weapons, something had struck her from behind, sending excruciating pain through her body before she'd mercifully passed out.

  When she came to, she was hundreds of miles from the battle scene, in a park on the outskirts of the capital city. The pain had left her weak and confused, but even before she could get to her feet, help had come in the form of some children playing games among the trees.

  The children claimed to have seen a hovercraft land briefly near the spot where she was found, and the oldest among them said it bore a Federation emblem. But later, when Jalissa had questioned her colleagues, she'd discovered that they hadn't rescued her.

  She never pursued the matter because she thought that it was possible that she'd 'ported after alljust at the moment when she was struck. The park was a large one that she'd seen upon her arrival, and it was possible that she'd chosen it without consciously remembering that she'd done so.

  Still, every time she thought about the incident, she was troubled by it. And now was no exception, as she read the brief account of Miklos Panera's involvement in the whole tragic affair. Hundreds had died in the battleincluding a novice Whispererand it seemed quite likely that the weapons had been supplied by the Special Agency, though of course they'd denied it.

  Casting off that troubling memory, Jalissa read the rest of Panera's record. It was the usual mix of fact and speculation, but it painted a grim picture indeed. Miklos Panera was both ruthless and relentless. If this man they sought was indeed a Warlock . . .

  She switched off the comm unit and went to her meditation room, the smallest room in the house. The walls and ceiling and even the floor were painted matte black, as was the large cushion in the center, where she sat cross-legged as she went through the various exercises to put herself into a trance.

  Before entering the room, she'd removed her crystal and discarded her clothing. While the crystal facilitated normal communication, it tended to hinder the form she sought now. And removing her clothing helped to eliminate any awareness of her body, leaving her mind free.

  She began to reach out with her mind, seeking. In a few moments, she felt the soft brush of another mind touching hers. She recognized it as being Leeda, one of the High Priestesses. After the ritual greeting, Jalissa immediately asked her questionand received the answer she didn't want.

  The man she would be hunting was indeed a member of the Coven: a young firebrand who chafed at the Coven's secret life and had taken it upon himself to spread the word that they still existed. The other members of the Coven didn't dare go after him themselves, because they knew that the Vantrans would soon be on his heels. Besides, they were convinced that he'd never be believedor at least not by the Vantrans, who were so certain that they'd destroyed the Coven long ago.

  After she had come out of her trance, Jalissa sat there thinking about the situation. The Coven seemed to believe that the youth, whose name was Kavnor, would never reveal the location of their home, but Jalissa wasn't so certain. Since he obviously wanted to bring the Coven out of their long hiding, he might do just that.

  Rather surprisingly, Leeda had urged her not to join in the search for the young Warlock, saying that she was putting herself too much at risk. But Jalissa felt that she had no choice. She had to find him and get him away from Miklos Panera.

  Alone in her dark little room, Jalissa felt the weight of her secret as never before. Long periods went by when she was able to forget completely what she was and throw herself totally into the work she loved. But now, thanks to this rebellious Warlock, she was being forced to confront the enormity of that secret.

  Jalissa Kendor had not come from Tevingi, as everyone believed. Instead, she came from a barren world at the outer edge of the galaxy, where her people, the Coven, had long ago used their great magic to build an underground city. They'd fled there after their narrow escape from the Vantrans, who had subsequently blown up the Coven's entire world, using a weapon no one had known existed. It was the end of Coven powerand the beginning of the rule of the Vantrans, who'd then gone on to conquer every world in the galaxy.

  The Coven's origins were shrouded in the mists of ancient history, but it was believed that they were descended directly from the old gods, who had granted to them all their magical powers.

  They had originally lived on a small world whose orbit was close to that of the much larger Tevingi. And many centuries ago, when inter- planetary travel became possible, the Tevingians had gone exploringand found the Coven. Tevingian legend had told of a race of "magic people" descended from the Old Ones, and so the Tevingians had immediately revered the Coven.

  The Tevingians had spread the word about the Coven, and over the years and centuries, every world in that part of the galaxy had come to revere themand even, in some cases, worship them as gods themselves.

  Then came the Vantrans, who worshipped only their science and technology. They had advanced steadily through the galaxy, conquering everything in their path and setting up an empire. They immediately saw the Coven as being an enemy to their goals, despite the fact that the Coven had never shown any inclination toward worldly rule.

  The battle raged for nearly a century, with the worlds who revered the Coven joining together to fend off the Vantrans, and the Coven itself finally joining in with magic. But in the end, the Vantrans' science had won out. Then, magnanimous in their total victory, the Vantrans had set up the Federation.

  And now, thanks to a troublemaking young Warlock, the Coven might once again become the object of Vantran wrath, with the Vantrans acting this time through the Federation they controlled.

  Jalissa hugged herself as a deep sense of fore- boding came over her. Her secret, her beloved career and perhaps even the lives of her people now depended on her finding the Warlock and persuading him to go home. And opposing her was Miklos Panera, the most brilliant and feared Special Agent of them all.

  The headquarters of the United World Federation sat in the very center of the Vantran capital city of Van, surrounded by acres of parks and gardens. It was a handsome marble structure with a large dome made of gold. Atop the dome sat the Federation's symbol: a stylized version of the space-relay transmitters that linked all the galaxy's worlds. It was also done in gold leaf. The Vantrans had plenty of gold.

  On a clear, pleasant morning, Jalissa rode up from the underground transport that connected the city and its suburbs. Motorized transport within the city was limited to emergency vehicles in order to preserve the beauty of the city.

  Clad in the pale, shimmering robe of her profession, Jalissa garnered much attention as she made her way through the gardens to the Federation headquarters. Par
t of it was due to her exotic beauty, but at least as much came from recognition of her profession.

  Men and women moved purposefully through the park setting, some going to the headquarters as Jalissa was, while others headed toward the smaller buildings along the park's perimeter that housed various specialized Federation departments. There were people from every race in the galaxy, but no one could mistake the Vantrans among them. Their greater height and their proud carriage combined with their athletic grace to set them apart.

  When she was feeling charitable toward the Vantrans, Jalissa had to admit that no one was more suited to ruling the galaxy. It was their science that had united the worlds, even if in the past that science had been employed to conquer their neighbors. And it was their constant striving for perfection in all things that set the standards for everyone else.

  Furthermore, to their credit, the Vantrans truly did believe in democracy. Their own history of rule by the people went much farther back than that of any other world. From the beginning of the Federation, they had said of themselves that they were merely ''first among equals": leaders, but not rulers. Others, however, often failed to see the difference.

  The rest of the galaxy had a love-hate relationship with the Vantrans. Other peoples eagerly accepted Vantran largesse and admired the Vantrans' style, but the subjugated races hated them tooand for the very same things.

  Jalissa herself felt this ambivalence, but on this morning, thanks to a fresh reminder of who she really was, the scales had tipped to the "hate" side. The Vantrans were, after all, the people who had tried to annihilate her own peopleand she knew they would do so again if given a chance.

  The horrendous weapon that had been used to destroy the home world of the Coven had never been used again. But it still existedand it remained in the hands of the Vantrans alone.

  She ascended the wide steps that led to the headquarters, and then passed through the open gold-leafed doors. In the center of the huge, plant-filled lobby was a model of the galaxy, and she paused for a moment to stare at it.