Trouble in Paradise (The Directorate Book 3)

by Pam Uphoff

  She parked the car and led the way inside the barracks. Ebsa followed, wondering just how badly he was about to get beaten up.

  "That's a bad attitude." Isakson was standing at the front security desk. "Today, you will be learning a new technique. Come. No need to dress out. You will be working hard in another fashion."

  Blindfolded.

  Sensing mentally for the people reaching for him.

  Not too hard. He'd had some practice looking for animals. Even with their shields up, Oners this close were obvious. But he hadn't realized he could "see" their arms and legs.

  One of the presences darted in and tapped his arm. His response was way late, but he shifted it to tap another foggy person jumping in. Was tapped from the back, turned, struck out to the side . . .

  He tapped more people than he was tapped by them, got repeatedly tapped by someone—Isakson, no doubt—who simply wasn't there to the inner senses. Worse than Ra'd. The old man chuckled. Ebsa lunged for the sound. First time Ebsa'd managed to tap him.

  "Sound can be deceiving. Few people, in a fight, will hold shields hard enough that you cannot find them, no matter the lighting."

  Ebsa tapped three people . . . there was the faintest fog . . . he lunged and jammed his fingers on rock hard Warrior.

  "Excellent. Practice that with Ra'd. You are dismissed, Warrior."

  Ebsa took off the blindfold, bowed and retreated.

  Rael, who had probably been one of the tappers, gave him a thumbs up. "We're all impressed. Even us Princesses with some training in sensing took longer to get the hang of it. Now come have dinner before you head back to school."

  He followed her gaze. Orde Withione Tarsus Ottoman. The President of the Empire. Paer's father. He hadn't been nearly as scary before Ebsa had fallen for the daughter he was smiling down at.

  Deep breath for bravery.

  Ebsa walked over. Feeling all the eyes on him.

  The president eyed him. "That was an interesting session. Less painful than most of his lessons. Most of them just make me glad I'm too old for it."

  "Dad, I think Isakson is older than you are, even not counting the time . . . er . . . "

  "I know. But I'm not going to call that to his attention." A quick smile, and he eyed Ebsa thoughtfully. "Well, come to dinner. We should have a little chat."

  Gulp.

  And . . . all they talked about was last summer's internships, with the President shooting a few wry comments Paer's direction. Complimenting Ebsa's fast thinking and response.

  Ebsa could only sigh and say that he ought to have been more alert and prevented the whole near-disaster.

  "That's what we all say, afterwards." The president shrugged. "Take this mess with the cannibal world. Ten years from now we could well be kicking ourselves and wondering why the One Hell we didn't take care of that obvious danger the first time it surfaced in our part of the multiverse."

  Ebsa nodded. "But right now, it's seems so far off, and to have nothing to do with us. So why should we make it our problem?"

  "I've read your report. A very cogent analysis of why we ought to care. Not that it'll work, but it has put a bit of perspective on the bioattack."

  Ebsa glanced from President to Rael. "I did wonder if anyone had asked Wolfson if it was reversible, but then he's apparently not available, just now. What about this Q person?"

  Rael shook her head. "Also gone. I talked to Nighthawk, though, and she said that the genes would be easy enough to replace, the complications would only come in individualizing it, and that that shouldn't be any big deal, since we had records of what everyone had started with. Except the babies. Then, of course, she said we were obviously insane to want them back, but, then Oners, go figure."

  Ebsa thought that over, and shook his head. "The genes almost don't matter. It's the insult to the High Oners, the demonstrated ability to harm them at will. No one likes to discover that they are helpless and vulnerable. Going begging to Comet Fall for a remedy isn't going to help the underlying issue—fury and fear because of our vulnerability to stronger magicians."

  The president pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ouch. That's very perceptive of you. I will have to think about how to address that problem."

  And not lose a recall election. But I'm not going to bring that up.

  Then they were driven back to New York. Paer grumbling at being evicted from the driver's seat.

  Ebsa retrieved his luggage and the box from the car and took it all up to his dorm room. Stared at the box. I'll look later. Maybe. Probably nothing will fit, anyway. It was a nice gesture, though.

  With the time difference, he caught a solid eight hours of sleep, then rolled out for the morning run.

  Chapter Twelve

  18 Hija 1403

  The next day Wedge and City's trials began. Misappropriation of a dimensional gate was held to not apply to the permanent gates, inasmuch as neither damage nor expense, nor loss of use had occurred. Unfortunately filing a false police report was not a serious crime. Six months in jail. Large fine.

  "They'll be out in a month, on parole." Ra'd scowled. "My fault for broadcasting that truth match with the Chief of Police.

  "Everyone knows the Chief is the one who told them to file the report, who tried to get Nighthawk executed. Those two idiots just thought they would inconvenience her. That the first truth match would prove her innocence." Ra'd glared in the direction of the court building.

  "And that's true." Ebsa prodded his feeling of unease. "Thing is . . . they're all followers. They take orders . . . poorly. They came up with one good idea—from their point-of-view—but even then they just handed it off to someone more competent. I can see them coming up with the hassling, the stupid confrontations. But the sniper, that was set up by a Game Player. A dangerous one."

  Ra'd nodded. "And the Senior sorting match. That was prearranged to get you out of the Team specific training. Possibly out of the school, if you'd lost control and hurt someone badly."

  Ebsa made a dubious sound in his throat. "Or just anger over last year. Or Ikku wanting to get the Closey out of Teams."

  Paer shook her head. "Get you away from Ra'd. They must have realized what a good influence you've been on their hottest prospect."

  Ra'd snorted. "True. I'd have killed someone by now, possibly deliberately. Yeah, you can all look skeptical, but I was nasty and getting worse before I came here."

  ***

  And speaking of nasty, the Magical Practice turned to battle magic.

  All with many glares and warnings from the coaches.

  Most of the students were pathetic.

  The Team Trainees—quickly joined by Ebsa and Paer—were kept apart, where they couldn't accidentally hurt anyone. The three of them already knew a lot of what the class taught. The Exploration Team Leader they'd interned under hadn't been shy about teaching them. And making them use it.

  The fireballs were fun, though. And making them in limited spectral ranges was fascinating. Apparently a new technique, developed after seeing Xen Wolfson doing them.

  Stun. "When you didn't need to be careful about accidentally killing someone." Professor Maek showed her teeth and eyed Ra'd. "So, Action Team Trainee. If you had a choice between a stunner and a stun spell, which would you use?"

  "The stunner, right-handed while I gathered power for something nastier with my left."

  The professor rolled her eyes. "Typical. Now let's—one at a time, so you don't injure each other—try a Slice spell."

  That one the three of them knew all about. Felling trees. Cutting firewood. I think . . . I will demonstrate control, not power. Ebsa went first and made a very modest cut halfway through a thick plank.

  "You're one of the strongest Clostuones I've ever seen. Most Withiones can't go that deep through hard wood."

  Ebsa kept a straight face as he spotted Ra'd and Paer exchanging grins.

  They also made minor cuts. Beautifully controlled.

  Then mental attacks—suggestion, compulsion, a
nd possession. And defensive spells to block, deflect or absorb all those spells. And the simple Push spell, narrowed down to a tiny cross-section, with a whole lot of power behind it was nearly as dangerous as a bullet.

  The professor nodded approval at the little holes they'd punched through thin boards from ten centimeters distance. "You may be able to do that from ten meters away, you strongest, once you've practiced it for a year or two."

  The next day, Ebsa spotted Ra'd testing it at the rifle range. Make that a hundred meters for Ra'd ibn Nicholas.

  Chapter Thirteen

  25 Hija 1403

  Wednesday, they got word to come early to the seminar.

  Xen Wolfson, speaking about the bioattack. A live conference. Well, minus the tiny time delay as the broadcasts were piped through the gate via laser relay.

  Paer leaned over to Ebsa as they watched the man walk up to the podium. "He looks tired. Or sick. I don't think he's recovered from merging. And I don't see Q at all."

  Ebsa eyed the man on the screen. No spring in his step, no flash of a grin. Sick, tired, or bad news?

  "First, the One World needs to stop attacking other worlds at a whim."

  Wolfson had his hands steepled on the podium and was eyeing the human audience. But from the way his eyes also frequently looked straight out of the screen, he was well aware of all the video cameras pointed at him, and knew that the important audience was on the One World.

  "Second, the genetic engineering is completely reversible."

  The audience stirred at that.

  "Mind you it isn't simple, or easy. Either laws about genetic engineering in the Empire will need to be altered, or several million Oners will need to troop through here to be treated. Because of the behavior issues with these specific genes, and their effect on other so-called magic, some considerable thought needs to go into this. Not to mention whether any other genetic engineering should be allowed."

  A babble of voices.

  "Umm, let me elaborate on that a bit. I understand the incidence of rape has dropped dramatically, over just these few months. Do you Oners, as a whole and individually, actually want these genes back, and if you do, are you going to allow everyone—say, people with known anger control issues, or convicted rapists—to add them back in?

  "Second, be aware that those three genes are what we call field genes. They are always switched on, using up a steady trickle of energy. Oners who have lost the genes should test their magical abilities and see if they can now do more, if they feel stronger. Then decide if they want them back.

  "Third, are you going to allow people who never had the genes to get them? What about other genes? Can they add them as well? And when I say people, I mean everyone. Oners, Halfers, Multitude, and Natives. According to the founding documents of the Empire of the One, everyone is equal under the law. Yes, we can add the One power gene, we can add individual genes, and we can add entire insertions.

  "These are all issues the Empire needs to address. I have informed the Kingdom of the West that further aggression will be blocked. They informed me that that was fine with them, until the Oners attacked again, then it was game on."

  A man in front yelled, "But you can stop them!"

  Xen cleared his throat. "Riiiight. I've probably wedged myself into the top twenty most magically dangerous people on Comet Fall, and eight of them were sitting in the audience, smirking as I told them no more attacks.

  "Please. Do not give them cause to lose their civilized restraint."

  At that point it was all questions and answers.

  "No. I did not know this was what they'd decided to do."

  "Yes, I was in on the early planning. I managed to remove a few options from the table."

  "What were those?" Another call from the audience.

  "Isolate the Empire or remove the One Power gene."

  That got quite the uproar.

  "Well, if you'd just. Stop. Attacking. Them. It's pretty easy, as they have no territorial ambitions, nor a drive to rule over the Multiverse."

  The man looked down, possibly at some note. "Talk about it. Decide what you want done by way of genetic engineering. Then Disco will handle that. I think the less contact between the Kingdom of the West and Oners the better, for just a little bit."

  He listened to a few questions from the audience. "No, we won't sit by so the One can attack back. This genetic attack was just such a reprisal. It needs to be the last one, from either direction. And Disco is going to try to stop any we detect, from either direction."

  Two more questions about the bioattack.

  Nothing about the Helios? Are they no longer a threat? Are they deliberately avoiding the subject?

  "The actual replacement of the genes is simple. It's who gets what and the legal issues that are complex." Wolfson shrugged. "It's politics. So far. With luck we can keep diplomacy out of it."

  He shut the conference off at that point, and stepped off the podium. Inso—the current Disco Director—stepped up and thanked everyone for coming.

  The lecture hall light brightened and the voices rose to a roar.

  The Chancellor dinged a bell to catch their attention. "Right. So, everyone writes out the gist of what they got from that. And their opinions on each major point. I'm sure any or all of your Information, History, Sociology, and Government classes will want to see how you analyze it. Yes, even those of you who are not aiming for the information track."

  Ebsa thought about his doubts about Wolfson's demeanor. Was he just guessing that the man was avoiding talking about the Helios? Or was Paer right, and he was still feeling the physical effects of merging with water and ashes?

  Or perhaps the magnificent Xen doesn't want to talk about what amounts to a defeat? However hard fought, it was all just to gain time for the evacuation. And with so many nations, hostile or at least suspicious . . . I wonder if they even know how many people died?

  Ebsa suppressed a smirk and got to work. Part One, genetic attack. Part Two, remediation. Part Three, adding genes to anyone who wanted them. Now there's a Sociology paper! Part Four, was the Master of the Multiverse merge sick or horrified? Possibly fighting off that healing-sleep-for-a-year thing they did?

  The next two weeks were quiet, apart from a bit of stalking, and harassment.

  Heak scowled at the retreating Ape, who'd been trailing her for hours and only backed off when she joined them. "At least no one is getting shot at."

  "Thing is, they were statues, while the God of Just Deserts was riding around. The four of them probably didn't get dosed. So they aren't just trained to be dangerous, they have some vicious, nasty, inborn desires."

  "So, just like all my life, except the last six months?" Heak rolled her eyes. "I ought to have been able to do something more deadly than a few punches and run for it."

  Paer raked the hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "I . . . probably ought not show you a magical trick I learned from one of Comet Fall witch medgicians."

  Heak raised her eyebrows. "Really? A witch?"

  They stepped aside, heads together.

  Ra'd rolled his shoulder. "This time it was just intimidation. Unfortunately, I over heard Ape and Blob complaining that they weren't going to manage to graduate this semester. They'll still be here in the spring."

  Ebsa sighed. "Six instead of four. Hardly matters to us which ones are doing the dirty work this week. I wish we knew who was pulling the strings, though."

  "I wonder if they're the blind errand runners, or if that's the person giving them orders. We might manage to identify the next step up, but will that do us any good?" Ebsa looked over at Azko. "Pity we can't get lists of their comm contacts, to compare them and see if we can eliminate people here in the college."

  Azko looked innocent. "Yeah. Nothing we can do about that."

  He had the lists the next evening. Looking irritated, rather than innocent. "Amazing how many people use tosser phones."

  "And toss them." Ebsa sighed over the list. Tappe
d the dates, and circled the clusters of untraceable comm calls. "Two days, generally, before . . . we had serious issues."

  Paer shuffled down to the ends of the lists. "At least there aren't any clusters recently." She glanced to the side, where her nearest guard was frowning at them.

  Ebsa smiled guilelessly. "Probably just a coincidence. More likely it's something to do with payday. Interesting research subject, though."

  Paer glanced guardward, turned her back. "Indeed."

  Chapter Fourteen

  3 Shawwal 1403

  Professor Ivy intercepted them in front of the lecture hall.

  "We have a guest speaker tonight. Former Governor Orcu. You five. Will. Keep. Quiet."

  Ebsa paused. Nodded. "Unless specifically addressed."

  Ra'd snorted. "I'll try, but I've been drilled, over and over to lose all restraint . . . "

  Ivy couldn't even pull up a decent glare. "Just . . . don't. Please."

  Paer rolled her eyes. "Guys. Let's try to survive the semester."

  They took their usual spots, and Azko pulled up the ex-governor's bio. They all read over his shoulders.

  Paer groaned. "He was Action Team? For twenty years!"

  "Desk jobs after he was injured. Lots of promotions, then he shifted to Interior. Retired to go into politics." Ebsa shook his head. "I guess I knew he'd done a couple of terms as the Councilor from New York."

  Heak nodded. "Then he retired and ran for Governor of the North American Region."

  "And then we happened to him." Ebsa frowned at the stage. Spotted the ex-governor, making emphatic gestures, arguing with the four Professors. Sensei Ikku, unfortunately, was nodding agreement. "I wonder what he's going to talk about?"

  "Betrayal." Ra'd sketched out a good resemblance of Orcu, dagger in hand. A man with his back turned . . . quick brilliant strokes of a pen . . . the man about to be stabbed was suddenly recognizably President Orde, even mostly turned away.