Bonds of Resolve (Cadicle #3): An Epic Space Opera Series

by Amy DuBoff

  “How does the training program account for the different development rates of telekinetic abilities?” asked Elise.

  “We’ll do a lot of work in small groups,” Agent Katz replied. “It’s my job to ensure that each of you reaches your potential. But, it’s also important for you to help each other.”

  Elise nodded.

  “Is it really true that outside social standing doesn’t mean anything within the TSS?” questioned Leila.

  “Yes,” Agent Katz replied. “And that rule is strictly enforced.”

  Leila must be someone of note on the outside.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Leila said with too much emphasis on the honorific.

  “Let me be clear, ladies,” Agent Katz went on, “any respect you gain within the confines of the TSS will be earned. The standings for Trainees will be determined by your own merits. I didn’t have you state where you are from so you can boast or look down on anyone, but rather so you can see how talent can come from the most unlikely of places. Your lives may depend on each other one day, so I recommend you learn what each of you can offer and how you can best work together. If I do my job well, you’ll all be besties by the time you graduate.”

  I like this Katz. Saera and the other girls, except for Leila, smiled. Leila looked to the side, a touch of color on her cheeks.

  “We could stay here chatting all day, but I’m sure you’re all anxious to get settled into your new home for the next year,” Katz said. There were eager nods around the table. “Your personal possessions will be transferred to your room, but it’s up to the five of you to figure out your bunks. Breakfast will be at 7:30 tomorrow morning and training will begin at 8:00. I will meet you at your quarters at that time. Rest up.”

  Katz led the group to their quarters. The fifteen other Sacon girls were not yet back from their orientation, so the five Primus girls had the place to themselves for the time being.

  The common area was filled with several plush couches, various lounge chairs and tables. Saera thought it felt rather homey. The girls popped their heads into each of the four bedrooms, identifying that their possessions had been gathered in the room accessed through the door to the front right of the common area.

  “I would like the single bed,” Leila declared as soon as they were in the room.

  “I think all of us would,” Caryn countered.

  Elise eyed the lower bunk closest to the door. “I certainly wouldn’t want to climb up and down to the top bunk unless I had to.”

  “Of course not,” Nadeen added. “It’s mean of them to design a room in this way, with one clearly superior position.”

  “Probably to spark just this sort of discussion,” muttered Elise.

  Does it really matter? “Well, I really don’t care either way,” Saera said and started heading toward the lower bunk bed on the wall across from the door. No one seemed to notice.

  As the others continued their discussion, Saera began to stow her minimal personal possessions in a locker at the foot of the bed. The door was touch-activated, with a palm scanner and PIN for security. She set up the new user account using the interactive interface. When she opened the locker, she found a handheld inside like the ones she’d seen other members of the TSS carrying around.

  It was thin and the size of her palm. At first glance, it appeared to be solid. She tugged the edges like she’d seen Jody do, and the device slid open, displaying a screen on one side with an opaque backside for privacy. Using the screen, it had her key in a thumb print and a retinal scan for security. She tested the holographic projector with the swipe of her hand, still fascinated by the technology. Her smartphone back home was sufficient for web browsing and playing games, but the TSS handheld was something else entirely—wondrous and almost magical, even if it was commonplace to those around her.

  When she finally looked up from her study of the device, she saw that Elise had claimed the other lower bunk, Caryn was up above Saera, Nadeen was in the other upper bunk and Leila had taken the single bed. Leila had a smug look of triumph for her petty accomplishment.

  The other girls were exploring the area around their new bunks, and Saera noticed that Elise was looking at what appeared to be a screen along the wall behind her bed. Saera turned around and examined the screen by hers. She placed her hand on the screen and it illuminated with a welcome addressed to her. It must have been coded when I set up the locker. When she looked over the options on the screen, she noticed that the bottom right corner stated: “Pop Out.” She tapped that corner, and the screen came forward from the wall, revealing a handhold. Saera gripped the handhold and pulled forward gently, and the screen came off in her hand. It was half a meter wide and a little more than half as much as tall. Though far thinner and lighter than anything she’d seen back home, it reminded her of a tablet. She scanned over the various desktop icons and widgets—access to the TSS Mainframe, modeling programs, composition. This must be our main computer for classwork.

  Voices erupted in the common room. The Sacon girls had arrived.

  “Shall we go say hello?” suggested Caryn.

  “Naturally,” affirmed Leila as she rose from her bunk.

  The Primus girls followed Leila out into the common area. Most of the Sacon girls were jostling to make it into one of the other rooms and claim a bunk. A few of them paused to glance at Saera and the others, but they quickly returned to the mission at hand.

  “I guess we’ll give them a few minutes to get settled,” Leila decided for everyone and sat down on one of the couches. The other Primus girls followed her lead. Saera took a seat on the end of the sectional next to Elise, perpendicular to the others.

  “After we make some introductions, should we go exploring?” asked Nadeen. “I overheard some of the Initiates mention some sort of lounge or game room.”

  “That would be fun,” Caryn responded.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Katz told us to rest up,” Saera reminded her roommates.

  “You’re under no obligation to go with us,” said Leila.

  So much for making friends. Saera leaned back on the couch.

  “You should really come with us,” Elise whispered. “We deserve a break after all that testing.”

  “I just want to start off right.”

  Elise contemplated the position for a moment. “Another time, then.”

  Not a complete dismissal. Maybe I’ll have at least one friend.

  They went through a round of introductions with the Sacon girls—and Saera retained almost none of their names—before the other Primus girls ventured out to find the game room. Despite another plea from Elise, Saera remained resolute and stayed behind. I won’t make stupid mistakes just to be accepted. Not again.

  * * *

  Wil gazed back at his parents sitting across the table. They were watching him intently, concern evident in their glowing eyes.

  “Why did you really ask me here?” Wil asked.

  “Just checking in,” his mother replied, her tone a bit too forced for the statement to be completely innocent. She looked to Cris.

  His father nodded. “You seemed pretty upset about getting assigned to teach that navigation class. How did things go today?”

  “It was okay, I guess.” Wil looked down at his emptied plate. He had figured the family meal was a trap, but he came anyway.

  “If it’s too much, I can assign someone else,” Cris offered.

  Except there is no one else. “That didn’t seem like an option when I voiced my concerns yesterday.”

  “You caught me by surprise. I was kind of busy at the time.”

  “Trainee orientation. Right.” And then he was all too eager to set me up with someone. A relationship is the last thing I need right now.

  “You were looking at the new Trainees like the enemy,” Cris said.

  Wil scoffed. “No, the enemy is a physically and technologically superior master race with advanced telekinetic abilities that can destroy us the moment we let our guard down.�
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  “Wil, don’t—” his mother began.

  “I know you mean well, but there’s nothing you can do. I’m in an impossible position and that’s just the way it is.”

  Cris frowned. “It’s like you’ve just given up on having a life.”

  “No, I’ve just accepted the life I was dealt. There’s no sense in getting upset about what could have been. The TSS and Priesthood decided our fate well before any of us were born. I’ll do my part.”

  Cris’ brow furrowed. “You’ve let it consume you.”

  Wil crossed his arms. “Maybe I’m now my real self.”

  “I don’t believe that at all,” Cris replied.

  Wil shook his head. It’s the same plea over and over again. Do they want me to do my job or have a normal life? I can’t do both.

  “You need to let some people back in, Wil,” his father insisted. “If not us, then someone.”

  “You mean a certain someone.”

  Kate looked to Cris with a quizzical smile. “What’s this, now?”

  And that’s my cue to go. “Thanks for dinner.” Wil stood and headed for the door.

  “Wait.” His father stood and stopped him with a telekinetic tug. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

  They’re the last people I should be pushing away. They’re the only ones who’ve been manipulated as much as I have. Wil took a slow breath. “I know you’re only trying to help.”

  “The only way we’ll get through what lays ahead is if we stick together,” Kate said.

  “One fight at a time.” Wil sighed and rubbed his eyes. “It feels like everything has been stacking up recently.”

  “Take some time to unwind, Wil,” his father urged.

  “Maybe once I’m done with the jump drive interface.” Wil glanced at the door. “And on that note, I do need to work on some of the things we discussed in class today.”

  Cris nodded. “Okay. Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Kate glided over to Wil and gave him a hug. “We’re here for you, whenever you need us.”

  Wil nodded, grateful for the warmth of her embrace taking the edge off of his stress, even if it was just for a moment. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  “I’m worried that we may have broken him,” Banks stated.

  The Priest’s red-brown eyes gazed coolly at the High Commander from under the shadow of his hood. “So fix him.”

  It’s not that easy. “He hasn’t been the same since his encounter with the Bakzen. I’d hoped he’d work it out on his own, but it’s not getting any better. If anything, it’s only gotten worse.”

  “I thought that the backup plan was already in motion.”

  Banks sighed. “It didn’t take like we hoped. He’s still withdrawn and unhappy.”

  “This was never intended to be a happy life for him.”

  “With happiness comes strength and creativity—”

  The Priest’s eyes narrowed. “So fix him. If our plan didn’t work, try something else. Whatever it takes.”

  Banks nodded. “He needs to feel like a part of something again. That he’s not alone.”

  “He is alone. But if you think he must feel otherwise, then do it.” The Priest looked at something out of the range of the viewscreen. “He must be ready to graduate within the year.”

  Only a year? It will destroy him if he can’t come to terms before then. “Why so soon?”

  “He’ll need time to establish himself as a leader before he’s given officers to train. Our campaigns are already yielding positive results, as you’ve already seen with the volume of training applications. Those who never would have revealed their abilities before are now coming forward. Within a few years, you should have a sufficient pool from which to select a full group of Primus Elites.”

  “We can’t push him too hard.” Any of them. These are people, not pawns.

  “You have your mandate.” The Priest ended the transmission.

  CHAPTER 5

  A person can only endure so much, and Arron Haersen was at the end of his patience. Being on the run was so undignified.

  Haersen shook his head and scoffed. A year of covert travel and trying to blend in—not what an Agent deserved. Well, former Agent, he had to remind himself again. But he knew he was on his way to becoming something even better, if he could only reach his destination.

  With a sigh, Haersen pulled himself to his feet. His back ached from another night sleeping on metal grating. Like many nights before, he’d found a secluded hollow behind some mechanical equipment in a maintenance corridor to rest. Such passages in the various space stations he’d visited on his journey almost always housed others in equally dire situations. He could have easily read their minds to find out what had led to their circumstances if he cared, but he didn’t. At best, they were of a genial nature and could be persuaded to offer up a meager meal. At worst, they were already occupying the best spot on the floor and Haersen had to stake his claim. In either event, it was easy for him to get the upper hand. Though he was no longer a part of the TSS, he still possessed all the abilities of an Agent. People were eager to let him have his way, without knowing why; even if they resisted, it was no effort to persuade them through other means. And soon, the Bakzen would give him even more power.

  At least, that was the plan. It was what drove Haersen on when he was hungry and tired and running. There were moments when he wanted to give in, but the promise of becoming as powerful as the Bakzen kept him moving forward. So he advanced, bit by bit, along his course halfway across the galaxy to the Kaldern System where he would be taken in by the Bakzen. Where he would find a place to become everything he dreamed of being.

  Waiting for that time was agony. It never should have been that way, hiding and sleeping in mechanical rooms. He resented being put in that situation. Haersen would have already been his fully actualized self if General Carzen hadn’t failed to contain Wil when he was in the Bakzen’s possession. Turning Wil to their side, as Carzen desired, would have been the best use of Wil’s extraordinary telekinetic power, but it was shortsighted to think it would ever work. Haersen saw that now. If he had only followed Tek’s plan, he would have avoided so much pain and inconvenience. He regretted ever encouraging Tek to heed Carzen’s suggestion. If only they had used Wil as a subspace bomb—ripping the rift to create the final pathways that would allow the Bakzen to capture the Taran worlds before anyone could see them coming. It would have all been over already. The Bakzen would have secured their victory. Haersen would have been aligned with the victors, and all his aspirations would have been within reach. But, they allowed Wil to escape. Haersen was left to clean up the mess, and Wil had died in vain by Haersen’s own hand—all of his potential bleeding out with his life. Such a waste.

  Haersen grimaced as he plodded down the passageway with his single travel bag, his ears numb from hours of being subjected to the endless drone of engines. From Agent to outlaw. He deserved so much more, and it would be his. He would right his mistakes and rebuild himself as someone even greater. As the person he was always meant to be.

  All he had to do was find Tek and affirm his loyalty. For doubting Tek, the last year was fitting punishment. But, he felt his dues were more than paid after what he had endured, and he had pledged himself to never show such doubt again. He was worthy of receiving the Bakzen’s gifts.

  Several other travelers packed up their belongings along the corridor as Haersen passed. Others were just arriving for the night on their own home clocks. Most didn’t have more than a small pack with them, but Haersen spotted an elderly man arriving with a full bedroll. The man smiled as Haersen walked by; he was one of the generous types. Haersen took note. Those sorts were so easy to exploit.

  Haersen exited the mechanical room through a squeaky door off one of the main corridors in the central mall of the space station. No one in the mall seemed to noticed his emergence, or didn’t care. The pair of sunglasses he’d stolen from another refugee was
the only thing that set him apart from the other tattered travelers looking for a new home, but most passersby would assume such an accessory hid a drug addiction. No one would see an Agent in disgrace.

  He merged into the flow of traffic along the mall, looking for a terminal where he could access the manifest of ships at the port. He had been on a dozen freighters already, each one offering a new definition of humiliation. The last thing he wanted was yet another voyage scrubbing toilets to earn his passage, but he was in no position to be picky. He tried to put it out of his mind.

  The Orilan station resembled most others out so far from the central worlds—scrappy, eclectic, and unpredictable. It was still several jumps from Haersen’s destination in Kaldern, but he was getting close. He could almost feel it. However, finding ships willing to take him aboard was becoming increasingly difficult the farther he traveled from the central colonies. Finding ships heading to the outermost worlds was an even greater challenge.

  Haersen followed the central mall to one of the hubs with access terminals. There were three terminals arranged in a triangle and all were unoccupied. So far from civilization, most people at the port were already attached to a vessel.

  He took the terminal at the back of the triangle, leaving him with the best view of the corridor. No place was exempt from a sudden attack in that part of space.

  As he brought up the ship manifest, Haersen kept an eye on the corridor. Looking over his shoulder was habit. TSS loyalists could be anywhere, and there was no doubt he stood out at the top of their watch list. The killer of the Primus Elite. Not his first choice of title, but it was more prestigious than Mission Coordinator.

  The manifest was useless. No ships were heading in even remotely the right direction for his needs. He would have to continue his wait. Something would come along eventually. At least there would be the old man’s bedroll to make the remaining stretch of Haersen’s stay more comfortable.

  CHAPTER 6