by Ann Wilson
longer believed they would be necessary.Nevan DarLeras had a powerful and trained Talent, something "VanceDarLowrie" had shown no traces of--so he was not using either that orRanger Losinj's position to simplify his mission. An exercise of somesort, then--security, in all probability. If true, it could be proveneasily, Owajima thought, and he would have the pleasure of meeting hispredecessor.
* * * * *
Nevan enjoyed both the cookies and the talk, though he kept an eye onthe time and didn't let himself relax too much. Owajima was alertednow, and field agents tended to have a rather violent reaction tosomeone stalking them for unknown purposes. Nevan couldn't blame them;he'd reacted the same way when one of his net had warned him someonewas on his trail. About the best such a pursuer could expect,unless @ was able to ambush the agent first, was that the agent wantedinformation enough to use a non-lethal form of attack or defense--until@ learned enough to satisfy @'s curiosity, at least.
But Nevan was able to put the hazards of his mission in the back of hismind while he caught up on news from home. His first son, with thelady Dallas, was doing well in his warrior training, though both he andhis half-brother--Nevan's with the lady Morna, who looked more than alittle smug, telling him--were giving Sean and Ellen fits trying tokeep up. Nevan couldn't help laughing; Sean and Ellen had fosteredhim, too, and he remembered how good they were--and how frustrated Seangot--with a child-warrior's hyperactivity. Other news was almost asinteresting to him, if less personal: the warrior Leslie had broken hisleg in war games with the Combat Division Marines stationed at Shangri-LaBase, and the clan had been asked to train more assault-landerpilots.
The hour was all too short, but Nevan didn't let himself stretch hisvisit beyond that point. He left the destroyer after a final promiseto Morna that he would get off the meds as soon as he could, then madehis way through even thicker crowds to his rented car.
He spent the drive back to his ship going over his options. Thingsdidn't look quite as unpromising as they had earlier, even though itstill seemed that he would have to go back to Terra for a fresh start.This time, he reminded himself, at least the start wouldn't be fromzero; he had a name and a reputation to work with, and a few days todig out some background would give him more data.
He had resigned himself to starting over by the time he got back to thespaceport. Not even the sight of half a decade secret police making nosecret of their surveillance of his ship disturbed him; he grinned atthem as he palmed open the outer hatch of his ship, giving Owajimapoints for letting the locals handle the presumed assassin. He'd justhave to take more precautions the next time around-- Oh, gods, theinner hatch was ajar, and he hadn't left it that way!
He barely had time to spot a stunner muzzle in the opening and startreaching for his needler before his ambusher fired and he slumped tothe airlock deck.
* * * * *
Owajima was a little surprised at the ease of his success, though therewas no way even one as skilled as DarLeras was reputed to be could havedetected any sign of his entry. He went to the outer lock and signaledhis success to the watchers, then carried the Sandeman to his cabin andsecured him to the bunk. Then he went into the 'fresher, foundsynthiskin release in the medikit, and used it on the Sandeman's face,smiling as it peeled free to reveal the tattoo so familiar from newsshows. That was conclusive enough for Owajima; if, contrary to allother evidence, DarLeras had gone renegade, he would have removed thetattoo rather than simply covering it.
* * * * *
When Nevan woke, he was spread-eagled, tied to his bunk with agrim-faced Oriental man holding a gun on him. That should have beenfrightening, but Nevan couldn't help grinning; the feel of air on hischeek instead of synthiskin agreed with the tiny indications he couldread from his captor. Owajima was disciplined, beautifully so, but notwell enough to hide everything. "I'm honored to meet you, ColonelOwajima. Either I'm losing my edge, or you're about to take over thetop-ever rating; I should've seen some sign of your entry on the outerlock."
"If you had, it would be I who was losing my edge. However, I willtake that as a compliment from one who still holds that ranking. Dropyour mind-shield."
"What? Ohhh." Nevan did so, surprised for an instant though he knewhe shouldn't be. Since his chosen lady had discovered psionic Talentin humans nine years ago, it had been found that strong Talent wasgenerally linked to strong abilities in one or more other fields. Thatwasn't a direct correlation, since there were multi-field geniuses withnone at all, and people with no conventional talents and powerfulTalent--but well over ninety percent of the time, conventional andpsionic abilities went together. Owajima wouldn't be the top-ratedfield agent without exceptional ability--of both types.
*Also, unlike most Sandemans,* came Owajima's amused thought, *I waseager for Talent training. We both know it is impossible to lie,mind-to-mind, so: you are still thakur-na to Ranger Losinj and on amission for her?*
*I am, though the mission is partly for her, partly for myself,* Nevanconfirmed. *Stay linked while I report; she'll want to commend youpersonally.* He sensed Owajima's agreement, and reached for his chosenlady. *Thakur?*
*Here, thakur-na,* was the immediate response--then Nevan shared heramusement as she 'felt' his bonds. *You are satisfied with security,then.*
*It's tight,* Nevan confirmed. *And I'm really impressed by MajorOwajima's skill. He got past my ship defenses without leaving a trace.It was a beautiful ambush.*
*It is he I sense linked with you?*
*Yes, Thakur.*
Nevan felt her attention center on the other. *I am pleased to makeyour acquaintance, Major,* she sent. *I apologize for any difficultiesyou experienced as a result of Nevan's pursuit; his purpose, at myrequest, was to test the security protecting field agents, includinghis target's self-protection. As you heard, he is satisfied. So am I,and since you proved able to stop him, I will place a commendation inyour records.*
*Thank you, sir.* Owajima smiled. *It is good to know our protectionsare adequate against one of the warrior Nevan's ability; any other,then, could penetrate them only by chance.*
*True.* Corina projected amusement. *Are you on assignment?*
*No, sir. I have just finished a post-mission leave, and have beenordered to Terra for a tour with OSI.*
*You won't like it,* Nevan predicted. *Assignments think they're doingus a favor when they give us a planetside tour--a rest break, I heardone call it--but those always bored me.*
*If it gets too bad, Major,* the Ranger sent sympathetically, *see me,and I will have you given a field assignment. It is the least I can doafter setting Nevan on your trail.*
*I will, sir, and thank you.*
*Before I break contact, thakur-na, is there anything further youneed?*
*Not really, Thakur--if you don't have anything else for me, I'll offerMajor Owajima a ride back to Terra.*
*That will be fine. Enjoy the trip--I must endure this reception forDuke Shirley. Until your return, thakur-na.*
*Until then, Thakur.* The contact ended, and Nevan grinned up at hiscaptor. "Satisfied, Major?"
"Perfectly, warrior. And I will accept your offer of a ride." Owajimaholstered his gun, then undid Nevan's bonds. "I have wished to meetyou for some time; I regret only the circumstances."
Nevan sat up, rubbing his wrists. "Same here, maybe more so. I wasafter you in particular because my bio-father left you his personalweapons when he died last month."
"Oh? Knowing Sandemans, I assume there was a reason."
"Uh-huh. He was the one you gave need-release to on Piper's World."
"Ah." Owajima smiled. "I should not have broken cover to do so, but Ihad seen one warrior die that way when we were prisoners of the Traiti,and I could not let another go through such agony unaided."
"That's what he told me, not long after I finished my agent's training.Do you need to get anything before we go?"
"No. Had you been the enem
y I originally thought, by now you wouldhave been dead and your ship confiscated for my trip, to be turned into the Navy at the Antarctica base. My things are already aboard."
Nevan chuckled. "Good thinking. Unnecessary, since this baby alreadybelongs to the Navy, but I like the plan." He led the way to hisship's control room, got clearance for takeoff, and set course forTerra. Then he escorted his guest to the ship's small lounge. "I'vefollowed your career for a long time, Major," he said, getting coffeefor each of them. "It's been brilliant--at times incredible. Likegetting into this ship without leaving traces."
Owajima smiled. "I left traces, warrior. Not many, and notsignificant to one without the training we share, but enough that youwould have observed them. My