But that was all. Clearly, Nemesis didn’t share in its nation’s collective madness when it came to males. Which suited him just fine. His thoughts were filled with his upcoming meeting with Maya, and the choices that he would have to make when they were face-to-face at last. Having to deal with mindless prejudice on top of this, would have been too much to deal with.
While their hosts concentrated on piloting the flying machine, Jon took advantage of his acceptance, and his privacy, to think about what the angel had told him on A’latar.
A life for many lives, he reflected, or many lives for one. As he had so many times since that strange encounter, he prayed for strength and insight, and when he finished, he tried to relax and take in the jungle as it whipped by underneath them.
There would be time enough for more soul searching when they arrived at their destination. For now, he just wanted to take a few minutes to enjoy the ride, and the chance to exist as nothing more spectacular than a man, living in a world that didn’t think anything of it.
***
While Jon’s ‘lifter neared the Fighting School and prepared to dock, Maya stood balanced on the toes of her left foot, nine meters above the ground, and atop a wooden pole barely wide enough to accommodate her.
Her right foot rested lightly on her kneecap and the prosthetic tail that she wore helped her to maintain her balance, adjusting itself to compensate for the tiny changes in her center of gravity. This left her free to concentrate on the placement of her hands on her sword hilt.
When she had first learned the Spinning Flower maneuver, the pose that she was holding had been difficult to master, or to maintain for any length of time, and she had begun on the ground. Now, she could perform it atop one of the highest practice poles, and needed only a few centimeters of flat surface to assure herself a firm footing.
Slowly and with great precision, she lowered her hips and spun, cutting in the direction of her turn and then bringing the weapon back up to the ready position even as she traded feet. Mistress Jezzika had insisted that her students practice every technique using both sides of their body, and the Spinning Flower was no exception to this rule.
“How do you know that you will always have the use of your right side?” the woman had asked them. “If this is injured, you may have to use your left. Practice until you are equally proficient with both.”
Maya had taken this, and all of Mistress Jezzika’s teachings to heart—especially since she had once been Skylaar’s teacher. Not that this fact had lent her any special privileges. If anything, Mistress Jezzika had been even harder on her than all the other students, and more critical.
Even so, Maya did not allow herself to resent this. No matter how gruffly the censure was made, when she took the time to think it over, Jezzika always proved correct.
Today, her weak spot was in how she held her spine, and she had been at it all morning, trying to keep it straight instead of letting it bend. In the process, she had discovered that the more erect her posture, the less that she felt the prosthetic tail having to work to help her, and the smoother her movement was. A new student might not have noticed the flaws in her technique, or discerned the tiny changes that she was making, but she could, and she intended to stay at it until it was time to break for lunch.
She began the drill anew, and this time, closed her eyes, ignoring the instinctive panic response as her body reminded her of the height, and her precarious position.
Instead, she concentrated on feeling her movement and changing it whenever she detected an imperfection. She was so intent on this that she almost didn’t hear the voice that called up to her. It was one of the senior students.
“You have a visitor, Maya,” the woman informed her. “She is waiting for you in the Mistresses’ Pak’un. She’s with Mistress Jezzika right now.”
Maya immediately sheathed her sword and used the metal claws of her prosthetics to scramble down the pole as nimbly as any native born woman. They had taken some getting used to, but now she worked with them as if they had always been a part of her. Which in a sense they were. She and the microcomputers in her aids had become fully synced with one another in the weeks since her arrival on the jungle world.
Jezzika’s Pak’un was waiting for her at the docking tree, and she wasted no time climbing up to it and stepping aboard. She was met by the Mistress herself.
Despite having studied with her, Maya still found her presence just as intimidating as it had been on the first day they had met. Jezzika taur K’aut’sha was taller than most of her kinswomen, but like many of them, she followed the practice of adopting a personal appearance that surprised and shocked the viewer. Nemesians, Maya had learned, took a perverse delight in choosing attributes that highlighted their fierce, aboriginal culture.
In Skylaar’s case, she had managed this by dying her hair a dark blue, and Jezzika had done it by shaving half her skull, and then adding an utterly archaic patch to cover over an eye that she had lost in a fight. The technology to replace the missing eye certainly existed, but Jezzika preferred this primitive solution, and had learned to compensate for her limited vision. This, along with the innumerable scars that she also allowed to remain on her body, lent her a wild and dangerous look—which was well supported by her legendary prowess with the ka’na.
“You called for me, Mistress?” Maya asked.
Taciturn and stoic as a rule, Jezzika merely inclined her head and started off, not bothering to see if she was following or not. Not that Maya would have dared to loiter; she knew that she was being shown extraordinary courtesy just by being acknowledged by the woman at all. Disobedience was out of the question.
They stopped at the door of Jezzika’s sleeping chamber, and there, to Maya’s complete surprise, the Swordsmistress stepped aside and waved her in without following. She was being left alone to meet with whoever her mysterious visitor was, in private.
Expecting Sarah, or Skylaar, or even Lady Ananzi, Maya stepped into the room ready to utter a tart rejoinder, or offer a respectful greeting. When she realized who the figure actually was, she was struck dumb with shock.
It was Josette bel Thana, every centimeter as lovely as her evil older sister. She was sitting cross-legged on the woven floor mat and smiled serenely up at her as if their encounter was nothing remarkable at all.
Reflexively, Maya attempted to embrace her symbiote--and failed. As a condition of her training, access to it had been shut off by Skylaar the day that she had arrived at the Fighting School. Mistress Jezzika strictly forbade the use of augmentations of any kind by her students.
Cursing this prohibition, and the fact that Josette had a perfectly functional implant, Maya drew her sword, following through with an immediate slash at her opponent’s neck. If nothing else, she was either going to go down fighting, or sever the woman’s pretty little head from her perfect body before she could seize the advantage.
Her ka’na met with nothing but empty air however. This wasn’t because Josette had used her symbiote. Instead, she had employed a far more prosaic tactic to evade the cut, throwing herself into a flawless backwards roll and nimbly returning to her feet. Laughing at Maya’s astonishment, she counterattacked immediately, slashing at her shins.
To her credit, Maya responded quickly; throwing her arms forward and sliding her feet backwards in one fluid motion. Josette’s blade missed its mark, and Maya began to pitch herself into a forward roll, hoping to pass her and come up from behind for another strike.
Bel Thana was faster though, and far more adept. Even as Maya began to move by her, Josette was pivoting on her foot and pirouetting. It was an impeccable execution of the Spinning Flower maneuver, and as she completed it, the hilt of her weapon struck Maya neatly on the top of her skull.
Maya cried out in pain and stumbled forwards, suffering the additional indignity of receiving a swat on her bottom from the flat of Josette’s sword.
Despite the stars in her vision, she still had enough presence of mind to pitch hersel
f sideways as she hit the floor. Then she scrambled to her feet. What she didn’t expect was Josette’s fist waiting for her, or the impact that it made with the bridge of her nose.
The blow sent her reeling backwards, and she windmilled to keep her balance, absolutely certain that she was about to die, and equally determined to recover somehow. If nothing else, she intended to make sure that the bitch would have to work for her victory.
Josette did not press her advantage however, nor did she engage her symbiote and make the fight between them unwinnable. Instead, she took a short step back and expertly re-sheathed her sword, giving Maya the chance to regain her footing.
“I must admit that you do have a certain amount of aptitude, Maya,” she stated. “Still rather rough around the edges, but impressive nonetheless. I think a few more lessons with Mistress Jezzika should polish that up nicely though. Now, can we talk? I have some things that you definitely need to hear.”
Maya remained right where she was, and cautiously wiped away the blood streaming out of her battered nose. She also didn’t let go of her sword, or return it to its scabbard. This woman was not to be trusted.
“Keep your sword then,” Josette said airily. “If it will help to make you a better listener, I’m all for it.”
She gestured elegantly towards the mat. “Please Maya. Sit with me, and enjoy some tea.”
Maya did not accept the invitation, certain that it was some kind of evil trick. It was only when Skylaar entered the chamber, accompanied by Mistress Jezzika, that she finally decided that Josette had not come to kill her after all. She also found herself reluctantly acknowledging the woman’s skill with the ka’na. Clearly, Josette bel Thana was a master swordswoman, easily on par with Skylaar, if not her superior.
“I see that you started without me, Josette” Skylaar observed drolly, taking in Maya’s disheveled appearance. “You could have waited and spared her a fight.”
“I wanted us to become properly acquainted,” Josette answered. “Besides, she is here to learn, and every opportunity to train is a precious thing, is it not? Surely, she derived some benefit from our practice session.”
Maya glared at her, and Josette smiled in amusement as she reached into one of the pockets of her bodysuit and offered her a silk handkerchief. When the young woman made no move to take it, Josette laughed and tossed it to her feet. Only a nod from Skylaar convinced her to bend down and retrieve it—and she still rewarded its former owner with a murderous expression. However skilled she was, Josette was still a bitch, just like her sisters.
Presently, a senior student entered the room, bearing a tea set and six cups which she set down on the mat. As she departed, Josette, and the others took their places around the pot, and then Jezzika began serving out the tea. It took another signal from Skylaar before Maya reluctantly joined them.
Clearly unaffected by Maya’s mood, Josette brought her teacup up to her lips, and took a careful, delicate sip. “Mmm,’ she purred, “truly wonderful. I have missed the taste of a Chasadan as fine as this. Really, I should visit my alma mater far more often.”
“Indeed,” Jezzika replied. “We sorely miss your instruction, Mistress Josette. The students would benefit greatly from any time that you would care to spare for them. Perhaps you would consider holding a small seminar while you are with us?”
“Of course,” Josette replied, toasting her. “It is the very least that I can do for my teacher.”
For the first time ever, Maya actually saw a smile break across Mistress Jezzika’s features. It was almost as unnerving as Josette’s presence.
This was not to be her only surprise of the day. The next came when an additional guest joined them. It was Jon fa’Teela. She recognized the neoman from his file, and he gave her a look that was pregnant with meaning.
She looked away from him to Skylaar, puzzled. What is he doing here? she thought to her.
The Galactic Mind requested his presence and Lady Ananzi sent him, the Nemesian responded. He has some business that involves us. I am sorry, I was going to tell you about him before this.
Even as she was digesting this, Maya was subjected to another bombshell. Sarah entered the room, accompanied by Jeena.
Not only did she appear to be completely comfortable with the neoman, but she seemed to be wholly unconcerned by Fa’Teela’s presence—a man whom she had once sworn to murder with her own hands.
She was also smiling. It was not her normal predatory leer, but something filled with genuine warmth. And her features had softened somehow, making her seem almost like another person altogether.
Her appearance was just as startling. Sarah had always worn her hair long and parted in the center, which had lent her a severe look. Now, it was parted to the side and done up in a long braid. She had also forgone her usual black fighting suit, and donned a loose pair of baggy training pants and a pink tank top.
Sarah was wearing pink!
She was also holding Jeena’s hand, just as comfortably and as casually as if they were the closest of siblings. Clearly, something of truly universe-shattering proportions had occurred here.
“Good of you to join us,” Josette said. “Please, have some tea.”
As they took their places, Maya shot Skylaar another puzzled look. This was not the Sarah that she knew. Sarah hated all males, and she had always held Jeena in a special kind of contempt.
And Jeena had never indicated that things were otherwise. Had she not seen all this with her own eyes, she never would have believed it.
“As I told you, Maya,’ Skylaar said aloud, “You have done Sarah a grave disservice.”
Maya didn’t know how to respond, and Skylaar elaborated. “Sarah was recruited many years ago by a special branch of the OAE. We all were. It was established to deal with exactly the kind of threat that our nation is now facing. That threat calls itself the Conversâzi.”
“To help fight them, Sarah volunteered to take part in a deep cover operation, and Lady Ananzi imprinted her personality to make her become the woman that you know. She accomplished this by using a combination of hypnosis, certain drugs, and her own latent talents.’
“It was absolutely necessary for her to do this. To penetrate our opposition as far as she did, Sarah had to believe in her role completely, even in her dreams. Now, she is awake again, and fully restored to us.”
“And we would have kept her false persona in play just a bit longer,” Josette said. “But we didn’t count on the chaos that you are capable of creating.”
Maya finally found her tongue. “M-me?!”
“Yes,” Josette affirmed. “You. Had you kept your anger in check and exerted some semblance of self-control, there is no telling how much further Sarah might have managed to get. As it was, that little scene that you started in the train station compelled us to alter our plans.’
“I think you are being much too hard on her, Josette,” Sarah countered. “The situation was a dynamic one, and many factors could have forced our hand. In all probability, you would have been compelled to awaken me sooner, rather than later, especially in the light of recent developments.”
“Perhaps,” Josette replied, glaring censoriously at Maya. “Perhaps not.”
“Whatever the case might or might not be,” Skylaar interjected, “It is all part of the past now, and we must move forwards. I am certain that Maya has many questions, and I think that this conversation would be better served by allowing her the opportunity to ask them.”
Maya nodded gratefully to her. “Yeah, I do have a few things I’m wondering about. First off, let me see if I understand what you’re telling me. You’re Sarah, but you’re not Sarah? Right?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Sarah answered.
“And what about your warnings to stay away from the ‘Big Bad Neoman’? Were they also some kind of con job?”
“That is correct, Maya. They were. I have never hated males,” Sarah stated, rewarding Jon and Jeena with a warm smile. “The woman that I was co
nditioned to be did, and so do the women that she was assigned to infiltrate.’
“Personally, I believe that neomen are simply the next step in the healing process that began when the MARS Plague burned itself out. In time, they will become full members of our Sisterhood, and then Motherthought will be relegated to the waste can of history, where it belongs.”
Maya shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. It was just too weird to accept.
Josette laughed scornfully, earning her a searing look. “Oh Maya,” she said, “didn’t you learn anything about deep-cover operations during your training?’
“To be truly effective, an agent must play whatever role that they choose for themselves, flawlessly. And when their opponents are all espers the only way to accomplish this is for the agent to utterly believe that they are who they say they are.”
Maya’s perplexed expression elicited even more laughter from her. “Did you really think that Sarah would willingly allow a neoman to replace you? Or simply acquiesce to Captain bel Lissa’s refusal to dismiss him?”
In fact, Maya had, but she wasn’t about to admit it. Not to Josette, and certainly not in front of Sarah.
“As a Colonel, Sarah could have had the Agency order him off the ship at any time, and Bel Lissa wouldn’t have been able to do a thing about it,” Josette told her. “She didn’t do so because her conditioning wouldn’t allow her to. We needed Jeena in place, and the Sarah that you knew really had no choice in the matter. She has been under the spell of Lady Ananzi since well before you first met her. Really, you have no idea who she truly is, or what she has given up on our behalf.”
“Fine,” Maya conceded. “I don’t. Whatever. Now Sarah—the big question; are you a neoman?” Everyone laughed at that, especially Sarah.
“No, Maya, “she answered. “Just a realist, and a long-time friend of Jeena’s. I only hope that he will forgive me for my poor behavior.”
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