Trouble in Paradise (The Directorate Book 3)

by Pam Uphoff

  "What, you think it's funny, Closey? Mister Tiny Little . . . Glow!"

  Ebsa eyed the man. Taking his barriers down. "Excuse me? If we're going to have a glow down, perhaps we should be introduced? Hi. I'm Ebsa Clostuone Castellanos Montevideo."

  All he got in return was glow.

  He sighed and dropped his barriers. Glowed. Snapped out a quick block to the side as another idiot probed. Idiot One glowed harder, sweating. Ebsa stood, eyes unfocused, attention all around. Idiot Two shook his head, muzzily. Must have caught a reflection of the jolt he aimed at me. How much power did he put into it?

  The first one staggered back bringing up shields.

  Ebsa turned and walked away.

  Thank the One I have friends.

  Martial Arts used up all his ire and settled his mind, then they all met on the walk down to Magic.

  "Professional. I am being very professional. And it's actually useful, a small window into the period I'm studying."

  Ra'd snorted.

  "With no war to fight, no exterior threat, they started turning inward and finding social competition for status." Ebsa shrugged. "It's kind of sad, isn't it?"

  Paer bit her lip. "But now we've got an exterior threat. And that hasn't slowed the Game a bit. If anything, Endi reignited it."

  "Give it a decade. I'll bet the battle magic training really steps up and starts younger. And now that we've got the tech, the ability to detect all those 'ordinary' genes of the Prophets? I'll bet people start getting a second number."

  "Yeah, but then they'll have to decide how that fits into the status quo." Paer snickered. "If they dare."

  Ra'd smiled thinly. "I'll bet that bruises a few egos. Most of them don't even know what their other gene count is."

  Chapter Six

  20 Qadah 1403

  " . . . demerits for failing to cooperate in group exercises."

  Ebsa walked to their usual table in the library and set his books down. "How many students does Sensei Ikku have this semester?" And how do I talk Ra'd out of running head on into trouble?

  "There are eight senior men—just enough for a compass. That includes three new seniors that I don't know; they weren't in Advanced last year. The three women seniors, and a new freshman. But the Juniors—three more men transferred in from elsewhere."

  "Hmm. You might try feeling out the Juniors. Even if they're warped, you might to be able to dominate them."

  Snort. "Well, yes, that would be a good idea, if Ikku weren't determined to break me. He's starting with groups of four, and putting me with the strongest."

  Ebsa put his elbows on the table and eyed the other man. "A compass, even a small one, might beat you. Three of them? Not a hope. You need to dominate them." He drummed his fingers. "I have no idea how an attack inside a forming compass would . . . No, actually I do know. We saw Edge do it. Too much energy, perhaps? I disrecommend anything explosive, though. Burning down the gym would probably get you expelled."

  Azko nodded. "I overloaded too easily. But Ebsa, you showed me how to protect my inner self, and Ra'd, I thought you were really good at that."

  "And they want those shields down. I told them I preferred to be butt raped."

  Ebsa leaned back and thought about that. "When it's just the two of us, I see a lot more of your power, but I don't get any memories or . . . hmm, any identity problems."

  Ra'd glowered. "I trust you."

  "Yeah. So maybe you and I need to practice, and you can work on backing off that inner shield far enough to satisfy them." Ebsa snickered. "Or scare them."

  Ra'd hunched his shoulders. "I don't trust myself."

  Ebsa eyed him. "It's your sixth period class? I'm open then. I'll stand by, right at the gym doors, in case those fools need to be rescued from you."

  They practiced twice, then after magic class on Wednesday they walked back to the gym together. Ebsa settled down in the shade of a tree. Fifty meters. If I have trouble feeling him, I'll walk into the locker room. I can easily get within ten meters.

  After a quiet ten minutes' study, Ebsa felt the increasing glow. He shut down his comp and walked inside. Just in case. He stopped dead at the impact of Ra'd opening up and joining the other three men. Felt the surge of power, the pain the others felt. He leaned on the wall. :: Tone it down. Easy . . . yeah. Now concentrate on freezing the shields, there, hiding all of yourself, and let them feel the raw power . . . enough, damp the power, take it down slowly . . . and end the merge. ::

  Ebsa wiped sweat, and listened to the muffled cursing.

  " . . . kill us!"

  "What was that?"

  "Oww, my head! One Bloody Hell, Wuck Lew, what are you?"

  "Dangerous. Why do you think I am so careful?"

  Ebsa edged closer to the inner gym door, and caught the Sensei's reaction.

  "You have a . . . very interesting glow. Intense and dangerous. But you seem to have control of it."

  "Most of the time. But a total merge . . . would be very dangerous. Can I control it in a merge in a battle? I was better able to control the amount of power I allowed out last year, when I was weaker. I have matured and trained a lot over the summer."

  Ebsa translated that with no trouble. Lost his virginity. Then locked his hormones down again. Or maybe he gave up. None of my business.

  Ebsa grinned and waited, but Ikku wasn't about to repeat that small compass. He slid quietly out the doors as Ikku dismissed the class. Azko and Heak were waiting outside, and Paer hustled in from her Anatomy class, and relaxed at his thumbs up. Ra'd came out as well, a faint veneer of satisfaction leaking through his usual aloof expression.

  "That worked well. A little more practice and I think I can let them have as much power as they can deal with, without giving them access to . . . me."

  Ebsa glanced at his watch. "I'm going to head over to the range. So . . . anyone else have any problems? And, umm, the research papers for History. What are you guys thinking about?"

  Heak grinned and turned to walk toward the range. "The evolution of gender roles in the Comet Fall magic community. Really, they're an interesting study, developing from their Exiles who came from a very egalitarian society."

  Ebsa shuddered. "Keep all your notes for Sociology. Then you can hit it from the cause and effect side, instead of the history of it. Hmm, History . . . darn it, it's going to be tough getting reference material for Comet Fall. Can I quote Ajha? He talked a lot about . . . well, I suppose that was more recent events, isn't it? Hmm." He eyed his computer. "I wonder how much information, history books and so forth, he picked up that are available, but not well known? Or if he's written any unclassified reports. Maybe if I search specifically for his name . . . "

  Ra'd snickered. "You two haven't met him. He was the leader of the Exploration Team we interned on. Turns out he was the junior member of the first Info Team into Comet Fall, forty-one years ago, and then sent back seven years ago for a couple more years."

  "Incredibly impressive man. We learned tons from him." Ebsa grinned at their expressions. "And yes, there were a couple of very hairy encounters with dinosaurs, or their early cousins."

  Azko sighed. "I'd have been terrified out of my wits. I'm doomed to be a desk jockey."

  Ebsa exchanged grins with Ra'd. "Got to get him together with Hob. No computer system would be safe."

  They all killed some paper targets, and scarfed a late dinner with the cleanup crew working around them.

  Watching the news was depressing. There was still outrage over the Fallen holding Oners prisoners and disbelief that the grotesque statues in Gate Town Park had actually been the Oners encased in something similar to a Bag of the Prophets! Preposterous! Comet Fall should apologize immediately, under threat of invasion.

  And the rumors of a drastic drop in Withione births, of parents retested and found to have been incorrectly ranked . . . as more anecdotes piled up, as polls and surveys were taken . . . Registration stats compared to last year's . . . the dates mapped out . . .

 
; "It is going to explode." Ra'd shook his head. "We picked a fight with this little world—turns out they merely have a small population. They have plenty of power, advanced magic, gates we need. So what do we do? We push until they finally push back. Any minute the bully is going to regain consciousness and realize he's been cold-cocked."

  Ebsa nodded. "They retaliated six months ago. So subtly that we are only now noticing that we lost the first battle."

  Paer hunched her shoulders. "It's not a war. Not yet."

  ***

  "So, what information handling projects have any of you come up with? Ebsa?" Professor Kyal picked out his reaction.

  "I found an old book that I couldn't find on any online catalogues. I wanted some of the information for a history report, and I could see where other bits could be useful, later, so I took still pix of every page. I'd like to convert it and republish it electronically." Ebsa tapped at his comp. "I've done a few pages as a test of how much detailed checking and correction was going to be needed." He found the files and sent them to the room projector. Picture on the left, converted text on the right . . . title page, copyright page, first page of the genealogy section.

  "Son of a . . . the List of Warriors. The only known copy is in Makkah. And under very strict control. Where did you see this?"

  "The library at Government House. As far as I can tell, the maids are the only people who go there regularly. The catalogue is this bureau with dozen of little drawers with cards in them . . . "

  "One! How . . . well, I know where I'm going to attempt to spend my vacations for a while. Yes, Ebsa. Your project is approved. Now, Koul, what do you have planned?"

  Chapter Seven

  26 Qadah 1403

  ". . . persistent rumors about a dramatic drop in Withione births . . . "

  Ebsa's head turned as he caught the edge of a news broadcast.

  Ajny snorted. "Some news! Nothing better to do than to repeat stupid rumors? 'Maybe it was Space Aliens, or Comet Fall Wizards. Oh, I'm so scared!' What a bunch of morons, believing that crap."

  Ebsa shrugged, and walked into the small classroom. Info 400 was getting very hands on. Interesting.

  "Right. So you each had twenty data points. Information. Apparently unconnected." Professor Kyal grinned. "So, let's see how you lot strung them together, and then we'll debate the merits or lack thereof, of your imagined connections . . . "

  "Humph." One of the girl students. "I'd rather analyze the birth dearth rumors."

  She turned and looked at Ebsa. "How would the teacher's pet analyze them?"

  Ebsa glanced at Professor Kyal and received a nod.

  "With lots and lots of qualifiers, as I have so very little data. I would consider it from two directions. Deliberately spread rumors with no basis in reality. Or a genuine phenomenon, which I'd analyze as either natural—a statistical fluke—or use of illegal drugs. Or caused by enemy action. No doubt with more time to think about it, I'd come up with other possible causes."

  Ebsa stopped there.

  Some of the other students were chewing that over.

  "By illegal drugs, you mean Endi Dewulfe's joy juice, don't you?" A man he'd never actually spoken to gave a nasty grin. "Don't you just wish you had some, Closey?"

  "Yeah. It's not safe to fool around with low class boy toys, anymore." A feminine sniff.

  The professor snorted. "Explain about enemy action."

  "Umm, Earth, Comet Fall, a militant Native or Multitude group." Ebsa shrugged. "We know Comet Fall can do genetic engineering, and we've certainly provoked them enough. If there was consistent genetic alteration, rather than random damage from exposure to a mutagen, if . . . I could see a purpose to do it at all . . . I mean, I can see where they might think destroying the One power gene would be militarily useful. But the rumors are saying 'not Withione.' They are not saying 'no power gene.' So I'd tend to . . . well, I don't have enough information to actually judge."

  "Not bad. Half of analysis is knowing the confidence level of your data, or as in this case, the uncertainties due to its sparseness. So, getting back to the assignment . . . "

  Crap. Ra'd said the rape genes were targeted. So it's not random. But is it useful? One knows every Withione and Neartuone is going to be outraged. A useful slap? The genes that have caused so many problems . . . Like an adult saying, if you can't deal with this problem, we will?

  And a warning.

  Because they probably can remove the power genes.

  Doesn't anyone on this side have any idea what they've roused?

  Three days later the President held a news conference and made it public.

  Ebsa paused in the dorm's common room as the vid screen switched to Government House, and the President walking out, looking upset. Looking sick.

  He didn't bother with a soft opening.

  "You've heard the rumors. They are true.

  "Eighty-two percent of the people we have tested have had the three genes generally called the rape genes removed from their chromosomes. We have tested Withiones, Neartuones, Clostuones, and Servaones. Halfers. There has been deliberate tampering, removal of those three specific genes, and no others."

  The President looked down at his notes. A mixture of grief and anger on his face. "There have been many reported sightings of a man accompanied by large dogs sometimes riding a horse. The descriptions match that of a man calling himself Michael Omega, one of the so called Comet Fall Gods. The times and locations of the sightings . . . preceded the sudden drop in Withione and Neartuone births by about two weeks. Some of the sightings include him pouring something into water. Including municipal water supplies.

  "I dispatched representatives to Comet Fall and to Disco, to . . . determine if we have been attacked." He straightened his shoulders. "We have . . . a long and very shameful history with Comet Fall. I have assured them that neither the attempted judicial murder of Nighthawk Swishdaut, nor the kidnapping were government sanctioned attacks.

  "Their reply was that their attack on the One was a government sanctioned action. They informed me that since our government was incapable of controlling our criminals, they would undertake to remove the problem from our genepool.

  "They informed me that their action was completed, and they were suspending further action to give us time to get control of our criminal elements.

  "But they also said that if I wished to make a war of it, they were prepared."

  President Orde set his notebook down. "I will be in consultation with the Council about our reply and . . . other responses. I will not be taking questions, just now."

  He turned and walked out to a cacophony of questions.

  Ebsa winced at one newsie yelling "What about your genes? Are you now President Clostuone?"

  Oh Hey whooped. "We're at war! Finally!"

  The other teamers were grinning. The other seniors looked furious as well. It's not just the Action Teamers, it's every single Withione and Neartuone.

  Ebsa turned and walked out.

  One! Are we really that stupid?

  He looked at the dining hall, and turned away. Walked to the old library, but couldn't make himself study. Walked out . . . and walked.

  He found himself with company.

  Paer was nearly in tears. "We've attacked them over and over. Proxy wars. Action Teams encouraged to rape. Murders. An out-and-out invasion. They have finally retaliated. A beautifully precise psychological blow. And a warning. Which I hope the upper levels of government have noticed, even while my fellow almost-directorate agents caper about making threats. As if they could crush the Fallen in a day."

  Ra'd looked over at her. "You know him better than any of us. How powerful is Xen Wolfson?"

  She shook her head. "He was very careful to not show his abilities. In retrospect, we could see how he tested our limits. I asked him once if he was the most powerful magician on Comet Fall. He laughed. Said he'd barely edged into the top hundred, and while he'd learned everything he knew from his betters, they hadn't taught him
everything they knew and some of them had several centuries of experience to his thirty years."

  Ra'd looked away. "We should kill him first."

  Ebsa eyed him. Nighthawk's father. That hurt to say, didn't it?

  "Dad called me, before the speech." Paer hunched her shoulders. "He said to resist any attempts to get me to retest, until they figure out how they are going to change rating criteria."

  "Umm, yeah they redefined the categories, what, three hundred years ago? They can define their way out of this, can't they?" Azko perked up. "My parents are having a complete melt down—they're both Neartuones and could drop badly. Me? I'm delighted to not have those genes . . . well, actually I don't know if I've lost any of them. I think I'll follow your dad's advice, Paer, and wait until they redefine things before I get tested."

  Eventually they wound up back at the dorms, and gave up. Tried to sleep.

  The morning run was slow.

  Classes unsettled.

  But opinions on the news, on the grid, were much more diverse than opinions in the Directorate School.

  "About time someone did something about those rapists."

  "Ha! How the high and mighty are humbled! We ought to have mandatory retesting and reclassification."

  Ebsa was shocked at the sheer number of gloating remarks . . . until he did the math.

  Oners are only seven or eight percent of the population. And of the Oners, sixty percent are Servaones, and thirty percent are Clostuones. This only personally affects less than one percent of the population.

  Well, I may have lost genes, lowered my count. But Clostuones are anyone without a complete set of one hundred and eight genes on their inserts, but at least six insertion packets. I will still have all twelve packets—a double copy of all of them, even if they are missing the same individual genes here and there. So I can smirk over the possibility of Ed or Oh Hey knocked down to mere Clostuones, and have no wish to go to war.