Power Nexus (Vorcian Imperial Chronicles Book 3)

by Taki Drake

  Standing up, a man in the uniform of the Imperial Marines asked, “If we are not interested in interviewing all of the participants, may we use the 15-minutes allotment allowed for those we are not concerned with and transfer it to the ones we wish to speak to?”

  The Imperial Advocate answered at this point, saying, “Within reason. And that level of reasonability will be defined by several things, one of which is the strain that it puts on the particular interviewee. We will not sacrifice the welfare of any of the people involved in this to satisfy random and unjustified curiosity.”

  Nodding in acknowledgment, the military man continued, asking, “In any type of question-and-answer session, answers sometimes spark other lines of inquiry. If we have available time left in our allotment, may we asked those extemporaneous questions?”

  The room was hushed as everyone leaned forward to hear the answer. This time it was Advocate Amity that answered with a smile, “Very clever, and it shows that you have a good mind. Unfortunately, the answer is the dreaded ‘perhaps.’ There will be at least two Advocates sitting in on any question session. If at any time, they perceive the stress on the interviewee to be injurious to their physical or mental health, the meeting will be done. And if the interviewee continues to demonstrate detrimental effects, all questioning will cease.”

  The murmurs in the room didn’t sound as angry, but the sound intensity of conversation had increased. Walking down to Berthold, his grandmother stroked the side of his face and said, “Come on, my child. Bring your friends and let’s get you out of here.”

  Chapter 31 – Shock Effects

  The three girls rerouted a very different way than the five men. Recognizing immediately how close to total collapse the young women were, the Triage Healer put each of them under the care of dedicated teams.

  Gentle and quick physical examinations cushioned them from unneeded stress, and treatment for their cuts and bruises was quickly accomplished. The unobtrusive assistance in getting cleaned up began to settle their nerves. Neither Argah nor Liz could stop the tiny tremors that shook them. Any small noise or rapid movement startled them, sending their hearts into fast beating.

  Even after a comforting bowl of soup, did any of the Healers try to engage them in conversation. When first Liz and then Argah responded to questions with a desperate blank look, their assigned Healers wordlessly assisted them into bed, quickly placing them into a deep sleep.

  Wrapping monitoring cuff that would continue to supplement them with fluids around one arm of each girl, the lights were dimmed, and the young women were left alone. Suffering from strain and shock had been the general diagnosis, one that would only benefit from quiet and the lack of further stress.

  Mara Watson, the Healer, leaving Liz’s room, turned and said to her colleague, Meley Richy, “Without any strain on their Magic channels, there yet they are young enough that a good quiet night will see them mostly recovered, I am sure.”

  Meley responded, “Yes, they are young enough and strong enough that I’m sure they will bounce back. However, I know that Jerroy has a much more challenging problem with the young one.”

  “I know. Even from across the room, I can feel how strained her Magic channels were.”

  Determined to see if they could help, the two Healers were walking down the hall toward Corda’s room when they saw Armsmaster Robard and Prof. Ryante approaching. About to greet them, an anguished cry erupted from Liz’s chamber.

  “Corda, watch out! Corda!” The young woman’s voice broke in a desperate plea. Without thought, the two Healers spun on their heels and ran back toward the young woman’s room, closely followed by Robarn and Ryante.

  Erupting into the chamber, the four adults saw the pale face and tumbled blonde curls of the frightened young woman, but what caught their attention was the change in her eyes. Swirling black completely filled her eyeballs, with no sign of pupil or iris. Staring at the center of the room, Liz had her hands out in a protective gesture, and all of the Mages could feel her trying to pull Magic from an empty reservoir.

  As Mara began to sprint across the room toward her patient, the Armsmaster brother to a jarring halt with one muscular arm. As the Healer struggled to get around him, the man said urgently, “Stop! Use your brain, woman! She’s obviously in a trance and caught in that vision she can hurt you or herself. Let Roby deal with it.”

  Desperately trying to calm herself down, the frantic Healer worked on regulating her breathing. Seeing that she was under better control now, the Armsmaster relaxed his hold, and Mara began to make sense of what Prof. Ryante was doing and saying.

  “Tell me what you’re seeing, Liz. What you’re seeing is a picture of something that is not happening right now. Instead, you are experiencing a vision of a possibility. Observe and report. Just observe and report.”

  No longer flailing about or screaming, Liz remained upright in her bed, but her teacher's instructions must have penetrated because the young woman started to convey that Mages in front of her. Almost whispering, Liz said, “The room is dark, but I can tell it’s large, it looks like a place that would have more than one bed. Corda’s lying down, and there are machines around her. Oh, God! She looks so bad, who has hurt her?”

  Prof. Ryante’s voice was soothing, and the two Healers in the room knew that the woman had a touch of Healing talent as they felt their own tension relax. Her words continued in the same slow cadence, “Remember that this is only a possibility. Now focus, child, and tell me who else is in the room with Corda. Tell me who and what they look like, anything that will help us protect her.”

  “There are three men, all big and powerful. Two of them are dressed all in black and are hard to focus on almost blurry. The one that seems to be in charge is wearing a uniform, but I don’t know what kind.”

  There was a pause as the tranced young woman turned her head around as if scanning the chamber only she could see. The fear in her face drew a low growl from the Armsmaster, and he felt rage rising up within him. Three men have invaded a helpless and traumatized child’s room in the dead of night! This cannot be tolerated!

  Liz started speaking again, and the four adults leaned forward to hear her soft comments, “One of the men has a needle, and he is moving toward Corda. I have to help her! Where is my comm-unit? I need a number, please, I need a number to call!”

  For a moment, there was just the sound of Liz crying. Roby Ryante and Hony Robarn locked eyes in an instant of strategy and his acceptance of omission that neither of them would dream of failing. Similar looks of determination stiffened their expressions, and the Armsmaster spun to pin the two Healers with his eyes.

  Before he could speak, Liz spoke once again in a voice that was rapidly losing energy, “I have to pretend. Otherwise, the man with the gun will stop me from calling. Push the comm-unit button. Push it quickly. No lights, no lights at all, and close my eyes. I’m sleeping, like in a dream. Please, hurry! We need to save Corda.”

  Frozen as their minds moved quickly to put the pieces of this puzzle together, none of the adults in the room were initially aware that Liz had fallen onto her back, once more unconscious and still.

  As the two Healers rushed to check over their patient, Roby snagged Liz’s comm-unit and quickly entered both her and the Armsmaster’s contact codes. Flipping to the setting controls, she also adjusted the light display so that it would not show in a darkened room.

  The Armsmaster did a quick survey of the room, making sure that he had its layout firmly in his mind. Watching as Prof. Ryante carefully tucked Liz’s comm-unit next to the girl's side, the man that had dedicated his life to teaching his students to survive the fights and battles that they would face in her life gathered his rage into a cold shell around his heart and turned and walked out of the room.

  Leaving the two Healers in the room with Liz, Roby Ryante caught up with her friend and asked, “What are you going to do now?” When the Armsmaster didn’t answer her, she followed him to the room where they could hear the
Triage Healer giving instructions.

  The Armsmaster stuck his head into the room and did a quick, comprehensive sweep of that layout. Jerroy Tinels so the motion and looked up. A quick flash of inquiry on his face was answered by a nod and a head tilt from the Armsmaster. The compressed question-and-answer satisfied the busy Healer, and he called out, “yes, I’ll talk to you as soon as I’m done here.”

  Spinning around, the Armsmaster almost knocked down Roby. Not wanting to slow the man any further, the woman walked with him as he purposely left the infirmary.

  “You know I really hate it when the two of you do that,” she grumbled.

  With a broad grin on his face, the Armsmaster said, “I know. Actually, part of the fun is how much you don’t like it!”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “Corda is in a room that looks just like the one that Liz is in. Since that is not what Liz reported in her vision, I think we should have time to prepare more effective protection. I am going to go and pull a bodyguard team together. When Jerroy breaks free, we will work out a consolidated plan.”

  “That sounds reasonable to me. I will do the same with some of the school Mages and look into protection spellcasting. I should be ready with something in a few hours if that will that work?”

  “I think so. We just cannot tolerate anybody preying in our Mages.”

  Chapter 32 – The Eye of the Storm

  Jerroy Tinels had passed the point of exhaustion hours ago. His anxious feeling of desperation when he had seen the ravaged face of Corda had haunted him the entire time that they were trying to stabilize her. It had been a hard-fought battle, but one that he believed they had one.

  Stumbling and clumsy, the Triage Healer headed toward the rooms of the Armsmaster, his friend Hony Robarn. If it were anyone else that he promised to meet, the man knew that he would’ve made some sort of an excuse. However, in the decades that he had known his friend, Jerroy couldn’t remember a time that the man had not been purposeful in what he did.

  Reaching the door to the Armsmaster suite, Jerroy knew better than to knock, but just open the door and walked in, only to stop in shock when he saw the group awaiting him. He recognized some of them, including Roby Ryante, one of the instructors, and an ancient Mage that taught specialized classes occasionally. There were two other people in the room, both that looked like upperclassmen. What is going on?

  The Armsmaster spoke immediately, “Good! I’m glad you’re here. And Cal, get the Healer a beer, he looks like he needs it.”

  Looking at the exhausted man, Hony commanded, “Sit down before you fall down, you idiot.”

  Smiling faintly with the affection of long-term friends, the Triage Healer quipped in return, “Well, if you have beer, I suppose I’ll have to put up with you.”

  Smiling, Hony waited till the Healer sat before his face turned serious, and in an altered voice, he said, “I think you had better hear what we have to say, and then I can tell you what we put together so far. We will need your assistance and guidance to make sure that we could prevent what we are afraid might happen.”

  Sinking down into his seat, Jerroy listened as the Roby and the Armsmaster told him of Liz’s vision. When they quit speaking, the Healer pinched the bridge of his nose and said tiredly, “I am not sure Corda could handle any more damage right now. We had a terrible time stabilizing her and ended up almost in a battle as she fired Magic off in a sort of porcupine flurry of spells.”

  Quiet up till now, the elderly female Mage spoke up, “I was concerned about that. There are certain types of Mages that require specialized handling if they are stressed to the point that you are describing. However, this is the first time that I have heard of such a young person being faced with this type of problem.”

  Jerroy and Hony exchanged startled glances and turned to the old woman with burning curiosity. Before they could start to interrogate her, the elderly Mage turned to Roby Ryante and said, “We will need to do the more difficult blanketing spell, so she has stronger protection. Whatever we do, she has to be kept away from any further attack or stress.”

  << <> >>

  The room was dark, except for the blinking lights on the machines that surrounded Corda’s sleeping body. All silent on the infirmary floor as the darkness outside was echoed by the shadows within.

  A slight gasp was followed by a hiss and then a small flood like something heavy and loose bouncing against a hard surface. For a few moments, there was no other sound or motion. Slowly, the door to Corda’s room crept open, showing the empty hall outside of her room.

  There was a change in the light as two men seemed to appear out of empty air and moved into the room. Trailing behind them, an assured man in a dark uniform followed. As soon as they were all in the chamber, the door was pushed shut, and the three invaders drew closer to the unconscious body in the bed.

  The uniformed man was the first one who spoke, keeping his voice low, “Secure the door. How long will the spray keep the nurse unconscious?”

  The smaller of the chameleon-suited men answered, saying, “No more than 20 minutes. We will have to work quickly, or all hell is going to break loose.”

  “Fine, we are just going to have to push faster. Blaise, inject her with the stimulant.”

  The larger of the men moved over to where Corda’s medical bracelet wrapped around her wrist. Pulling an ampule from his pocket, he moved with the practiced motions of a Healer as he warned, “If we hurry, we run the risk of burning her out.”

  “I really don’t care. We need to understand what she did, and if she gets damaged in the process, that’s not necessarily bad. At least that way, none of our enemies will have this knowledge.”

  The covert operative with the Healer training shrugged his shoulders and responded, “I was just telling you like it is. No judgment. I understand the mission.”

  “Good.”

  In response to the drug that had been added to her system, Corda began to whimper as the potent stimulant began to rasp along her nerves, forcing her back into consciousness. Her pitiful sobs made no impression on the three men that stood watching her like she was a lab experiment.

  Down the hall, Liz slammed to alert as if someone had applied an electric prod to her posterior. Disoriented and confused, Liz froze for a few seconds, looking and listening around her. The dark room was soothing, but there was something or someone was making a noise like a wounded animal. Liz hurt from the pain she could hear and longed to help stop it.

  Immediately, Liz pushed the call button to summon a nurse. There was no response and the urge to stop the tortured cries became overwhelming. Oh, visions of hell that is Corda! What is happening to her?

  Listening intently, Liz could hear men’s voices between the cries. Their local volume was getting louder as they fought to be heard over Corda’s cries for help. Suddenly, a flash of her vision splashed in front of her face, and Liz went cold with fear. Desperately, she pawed through her bedclothes, gasping in relief when she found her comm-unit. Hunching over it to conceal any possible light, she punched the activation button and was relieved to see that it had been set on stealth mode with only enough light to see the icons.

  Thank the 1001 gods, she thought to herself in terror, Someone left a number for me to call.

  Without further thought, Liz hit the button and was amazed when the Armsmaster’s face immediately appeared in her comm-unit screen. Keeping her shaking voice quiet, the terrified young woman pleaded, “Please, please. You have to come help Corda. Somebody’s in with her, and she is crying. The nurse won’t come, and I can’t get out of bed. I don’t know what to do.”

  An expression of rage appeared on the Armsmaster’s face. His appearance was so frightening that Liz recoiled. Trying to reassure her, the man said soothingly, “I’m not angry at you. We are on our way. Just remember to turn off the comm-unit and pretend you’re sleeping.”

  The call closed, and Liz quickly did what the Armsmaster had told her.

  The
young woman barely finished what she had to do before the door from the hallway swung open, and she felt the brush of air that indicated someone had entered her room. Moaning and whimpering as if she were in the throes of a nightmare, Liz said, “No, no. Please, no!” She had no idea what she was saying, but the young woman didn’t really care. All she knew was that danger stood by her bed, and she didn’t want to be killed.

  Thinking she had flailed around enough, Liz stopped moving as if she had fallen back to sleep. It was hard to slow her breathing down, but she did the best she could, relaxing into the slow cadence of someone in a deep sleep.

  Liz knew that it had worked when the frightening man crept out of the door, closing it behind him. The shaky breath that the young woman drew felt like a gift. For a moment, she just luxuriated in the fact that she was still alive.

  Chapter 33 – Mission On

  While Liz cowered under her illusion of sleep, the two Academy Mages and Lead Enkill raced through the hallways toward the infirmary. The Armsmaster, accompanied by the Triage Mage and the other upperclassman TA Lead, Cremey Marten, were taking position at strategic spots around the outer wall of Corda’s room.

  As they ran, the Armsmaster used his comm-unit to notify the PK Commander of the situation, in case the battle was more than his volunteer force could handle. Quickly comprehending both the confidential nature of the information and its urgency, PK Commander Rankev took personal command of the response team and was moving toward the Academy in less than 60 seconds.

  Snarling in exertion, the Armsmaster called for all available Academy Security Guards but knew that it was unlikely that any of them could respond quickly enough. Terse sentences shot out of Hony’s mouth as he sketched out their plan and warned that the incursion was most probably from rogue Imperial elements.

  With only a few seconds before they were in position, and knowing that silence would soon be crucial, the Armsmaster clicked through on override to the quarters of the Academy Advocate and turned on full audiovisual, startling Jessa and her friend by his sudden appearance and the desperate expression on his face.