Heart of a Warrior

17

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BRITTANY HAD TO LAUGH AT HERSELF FOR THINKING that leaving Dalden on a bench under a slightly overhanging tree would keep him from notice, even slouched clown to detract from his height. Her experience at the mall with him should have told her otherwise, and every time she glanced back his way, she noticed the stares, people stopped in groups of two or three to covertly look his way.

It wasn't just his size and handsomeness. There was a confidence about him that went beyond the norm, a unique presence that commanded attention and speculation. People who knew their own worth, or felt capable of accomplishing anything, carried that kind of confidence. Politicians, celebrities, billionaires came to mind-and perhaps specially trained military types, too, which was the only thing she could think of to explain it in Dalden's case.

Of course, that was just her take on it. She felt his confidence, his utter lack of the common worries that plagued normal individuals. Other people just might be simply agog at his looks.

The end of lunch hour had not been the ideal time to start her job of finding Jorran, when most of the people passing through the hall just then were city workers on their way back to their offices. It meant there were too many people to talk to all at once, and that she was going to miss speaking to most of them.

The easiest and most common question to stop people with was to ask for directions. Usually she could move on to the next person within seconds, unless she ran into someone who simply liked to talk and could take five minutes to say three words, but that only happened once.

The mayor was on the premises. She'd ascertained that first, and briefly spoke with everyone in his waiting room, which was only three testy people who had missed their own lunches to try and get in to see the mayor instead, and apparently were wasting their time. She stayed out in the main hall after that, just kept her eye on the door to the mayor's inner offices for anyone new conning along.

After close to an hour, she finally had a reason to return to Dalden and, sitting down next to him, whispered to him, "Don't look immediately, but that guy over there to the left of us with the curly brown hair and the pasty white skin is pretty weird."

Dalden did look immediately, and frowned in the direction where she had tilted her head. "Weird in what way?"

"He not only talks somewhat like you, but he also told me that I didn't see him, like he thinks he's invisible or something. And that silly stick he's carrying around like a wand-"

Brittany didn't get to finish. Dalden shot off the bench with such amazing speed that she was left with her mouth hanging open. She didn't think it was possible that someone his size could move that fast, yet within seconds, he was across the hall behind the weird fellow and putting an arm around his shoulder like they were friends. They weren't, of course, and there was a moment of grappling that seriously alarmed her, considering that the entire hall was probably watching them. But it didn't last long, and a few words were quietly said, then the weird fellow was following behind Dalden as docilely as you please, back to the bench.

Brittany's alarm was gone. It now seemed like it had merely been two friends doing the weird wrestling-type greeting thing. What was left was pure incredulity that had her simply staring at them as they reached her. What the hell had just happened?

"You did not predict this was a possibility?" Dalden was saying to Martha, still in Sha-Ka'ani. "That Jorran would not know to keep the rods off of women?"

"You didn't tell him," Martha replied. "And Ferrill wouldn't discuss the rods at all with him, so no, he didn't know they only work on males. I knew that, but I gave him more credit. I figured he'd be smart enough to test the rods before putting them to use. He probably did, he just wasn't smart enough to include women in the testing, likely because he envisioned his new home to be like his old home, where women are only slightly up on the scale from slavery. Speaking of which, that was quick thinking on your part, kiddo, to use the rod on him and have him think he's your slave. They have them where he comes from, so this peon knows exactly how to imitate their behavior."

"Do you two know just how rude that is, to be talking that gibberish when someone is standing here who doesn't understand a word of it?" Brittany growled finally, her impatience turning to pure vexation.

"Didn't it occur to you that that was the point, doll?" Martha purred back at her. "Classified info, remember?"

That was hardly pacifying, and Brittany said as much. "If you think you're going to get away without telling me what just happened, you're crazy. And why is this man looking like he's about to bow down and kiss Dalden's feet?"

"Probably because he is," Martha replied dryly. Then, "Send him off to a safe distance, Dalden, so he doesn't get confused by what he hears."

Brittany watched as Dalden told the man to go stand in a corner and await him there, and he did just that. She guessed aloud, "He's not a stranger to you after all, is he? He's on your payroll or something like that?"

Martha shot that premise right down. "We've never seen him before."

"Then why is he doing what you tell him to do?" Brittany demanded.

Martha sighed, not once, but three times to stress the point that she felt her arm was being twisted. "All right, considering the matter is going to either be redundant or erased, I can divulge this much. A lot of amazing things have been invented where we come from, things that would defy belief. That rod Dalden just confiscated is one of those things. It was stolen, a whole crate of them, actually, and we have been tasked with retrieving them."

"What's it do?"

"You wondered how Jorran thought he could just waltz in here and become your mayor? Well, he thinks these rods will let him do just that."

"You haven't answered my question," Brittany pointed out, her impatience rising again.

"Oh, you wanted details?" Martha said with a big dose of innocence.

"What happens if I break your box?" Brittany snarled, glaring at it.

"Dalden gets another one," was answered in placid if somewhat smirking tones.

"Figures," Brittany mumbled.

Ten seconds of laughter followed before Martha continued, "Who would think a man's mind could be altered instantly with the power of suggestion and a mere touch of a rod? But someone figured out how to do just that. Call it hypnosis revolutionized, if you like. But someone who doesn't know the first thing about mind control can use one of these rods and completely alter a male subject's thoughts to anything they want. Example being, Dalden used the rod on this fellow and told him he's his slave, and voila, the man fully believes he's Dalden's slave. So until he's told otherwise, he will obey any directive Dalden gives him."

Brittany gritted her teeth, even counted to ten before she said, "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Did I not say inventions that defy belief? And weren't you subject to it yourself, when the fellow tried to convince you that you didn't see him?"

"Which just proves it doesn't do what you say it does. I still saw him perfectly."

"Lucky for you, doll, it doesn't work on women," Martha replied. "And lucky for us, Jorran and his people obviously don't know that yet."

"His people? You mean that wasn't Jorran that Dalden just took control of?"

"No, he can alter his looks, but not his height. Jorran's about as tall as you are. But we knew we'd have a lot of peons to deal with as well. Jorran travels with a full entourage, and the Altering Rods have likely been passed out to the lot of them. Getting our hands on Jorran will gather them all in, though."

"So that's what this is all about? Retrieving stolen property? Why haven't you just gone to the police about it?"

"Don't you realize the kind of mass paranoia that can be caused if word spreads about these rods and that there are people running around using them? Have you even realized yet what's possible with their use? A perfect stranger can be asked for all his worldly goods and he'll turn them over happily, then go off and never know what happened to pauperize him. A man can be told to quit his job and do so, and never figure out why he did. People can be made to do things totally against their nature. Is it sinking in yet, why the fewer people who know about them, the better?"

"No. The police have the manpower to find them more quickly-"

"Brittany, Brittany," Martha cut in with a sigh. "You are missing the point. First you'd have to convince your law enforcement that the rods are real; then you'd have to swear them to secrecy. We now have one of the rods to do the first, but human nature will counter the second. Word would spread, and you'd have your whole town suspicious of everyone they see. Mass hysteria, paranoia, and panic. Is that what you're suggesting?"

"What you're suggesting is next to impossible, if there are a lot more people involved than you first led me to believe. How are we supposed to find them all?"

"We don't need to find them all, we only need to find Jorran. The rest will come voluntarily to us if we have him, and we'll take the lot of them back to where they belong. We happen to have a lot more manpower available to send in, but they would just alert Jorran to our presence, which we don't want to happen. If he suspects at all that we're here looking for him, he'll relocate and then we'll be reduced to zero chance of finding him."

"Won't he suspect something is wrong when the guy you entranced doesn't report in?"

"Not to worry, doll. You'll find I'm always one step ahead in any situation. Now, we really don't want to send any more people rushing off to visit their eye doctors, so point the big guy to a place where he can be assured of some privacy to deal with our 'slave.'

"Deal with him how?"

A chuckle came out of the box. "That's rich. You don't really think we're here to kill anyone, do you?"

Brittany blushed profusely. She had sounded a bit horrified there, and had been thinking the worst. But what else did they suddenly need privacy for, if not to dispose of this fellow they'd managed to capture?

"Interrogation," Martha continued, as if she'd been able to read Brittany's mind. "And then he'll be sent back to the enemy camp with no memory of us, but minus his rod, of course, which he'll assume he lost. But he'll be given a link to me, and once a day I'll get a report in about Jorran's progress-an added bonus for our side."

"You make it sound so easy."

"That is the easy part," Martha told her. "The hard part is still in your court. We'd like to stop Jorran before he alters too many personalities or causes too much irreparable grief."

"You don't think you'll find out from this fellow where Jorran is now?"

"Highly improbable. Jorran will surround himself with only a select few. The rest of his people will have been turned loose to do his bidding without question. They'll have means of communication in case directives get changed, but not with Jorran himself. It would be beneath him to speak directly with mere underlings."

"Like a crime boss?"

"Like an autocratic king."

"Not much difference there."

"An excellent observation, though the two might disagree just on principle, of course. Now if we're done with the jokes, that place of privacy?"

Brittany sighed. She would have preferred to continue the discussion. The new piece of the puzzle was still missing some of its edges. But she supposed it was pointless to keep at it, once Martha was done with a subject.

"The bathroom around the corner over there would afford some brief privacy, but being public, that won't last long. My car would probably work," and she tossed the keys at Dalden. "Just turn on the air conditioner and keep the windows rolled up, and no one should be able to hear you."

"I was more concerned with sight," Martha said. "But I suppose that will do. And how about having a chat with your mayor while we're gone? We do need to make sure he hasn't been tampered with yet."

"You don't just get to have 'chats' with the mayor around here. I need an appointment first, then a good reason for it. He's a busy man. His secretary would object to taking up his time just shooting the breeze."

"His secretary a woman?"

"No, a man, actually."

"Dalden, get the little gal an immediate appointment before we adjourn to the parking lot with your slave."

Brittany's mouth dropped open when Dalden nodded, left to enter the mayor's inner realm with the Altering Rod, came back out moments later, collected the "slave," then left the building completely. She stared at the door leading to Mayor Sullivan's offices. Dalden hadn't really managed to get her an appointment with him, just like that. She'd make a fool of herself, telling the secretary she had one. Yet wouldn't Dalden have come back to tell her it was a no go?