Primary Inversion (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Paperback Read Online Free PDF Page A

suspected the glass was transparent when viewed from the other
side; the place looked like an interrogation room.
    After the woman left, Rex scowled at the chairs.
    I smiled. You don’t like the decor?
    He grimaced. It’s hard enough muting people’s reactions
without having it multiplied by what we sit in.
    I brushed my finger over the nervoplex back of a chair and
it stiffened in response. In truth, it could do no more than react to our
muscle tension. Empaths tended to interact with nervoplex, stiffening when it
tried to relax our muscles, relaxing when it tensed up. It set up a feedback
loop that intensified whatever we were feeling. So really it only multiplied
our own emotions. But Jagernauts were like sponges; other people’s feelings
became ours. Even the most disciplined of us, soldiers who showed no response
at all to most observers, experienced minute changes in posture and muscle tension
when we picked up emotions.
    The door opened and a young man came into the room. He
walked over to Rex and smiled, extending his hand. “My pleasure at your
company,” he said in perfect Skolian. “I am Tiller Smith.”
    Rex blinked at him, then looked at me.
    Put your hand in his and move it up and down, I thought.
    Rex grasped Tiller’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “Gracias,”
he said, using one of the few Earth words he knew.
    Tiller winced, and extricated his hand from Rex’s clutch. “Mrs.
Karpozilos said you wanted to report a crime.”
    Why is he talking to me? Rex thought. Can’t he tell that
you outrank me?
    Maybe he doesn’t know our military protocol. Aloud, I
said, “Not a crime. We’re hoping to prevent one.”
    Tiller glanced at me, reddened, and looked away. He peered
at the arms of Rex’s jacket, then at mine, then at Rex’s again. Finally he
said, “I’m sorry—I’ve never really worked as an interpreter before. I’m just a
handyman here. I—well, I’m not sure how to do this.” He spread his hands. “I
can’t even read your identifications.”
    Identifications? I looked down at my jacket. The only
markings on the black material were a line of silver studs, and of course the
gold band around each of my upper arms that denoted my rank. Rex’s jacket was
identical except that he had two narrower bands on each of his arms. Did Tiller
mean our ranks?
    “I’m Sauscony Valdoria, Primary.” I motioned at Rex. “Rex
Blackstone, Secondary.”
    Tiller gaped at me. “You’re an Imperial Admiral?”
    “Primary. It’s not the same thing.”
    “But isn’t Primary another word for Admiral?”
    “The rank is similar,” I said. “But it’s not the same.
Primaries are Jagernauts. Only Jagernauts.”
    “Cyberfighters.” Excitement leapt in Tiller’s voice. “Telepathic
computers, yes? I studied about you in—Ah!” He hit his head with his palm. “I
digress. You didn’t come here to be questioned by me. My apologies.”
    “That’s all right,” I said. It was actually rather nice to
meet someone who didn’t wish we would go away.
    He motioned to the chairs. “Shall we sit?”
    Rex and I looked at each other. Neither of us made any move
to sit. After a moment Tiller said, “I have a better idea. Why don’t you come
to my office? I have some great armchairs there.” He glanced at the nervoplex
seats and added, “Mine have cloth upholstery.”
    “All right,” I said.
    Tiller’s “office” was a cubbyhole between a restroom and a
closet. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with holobooks and old-style texts with
paper pages. Equipment was everywhere: optical tools, dismantled holoscreens,
parts of computer consoles, jacks for human/computer interfaces, pieces of
burn-lasers. The clutter covered every available surface and hung from anything
that remotely resembled a hook. A faint odor of oil hung in the air. The
promised armchairs were buried under boxes of hologram film.
    “Here.” Tiller cleared off three chairs, transferring the
boxes to his already crowded desk.
    I