by O. J. Lowe
He’d gestured to a door behind him, and with the feeling of relief a weight from his shoulders, Theo had made to go through it. At least until he’d stopped up short, the relief turning into bitter bile.
“Ah… Do I have to call you Sir?”
“If you wish,” the little man said. “You have a question.”
“The way I got here, with the air loop and the falling…”
“You want to know what would have happened if you hadn’t figured it out before hitting the ground?”
Theo hesitated only for a fraction of a second before nodding.
“Everyone does, but not everyone chooses to ask. Some are happier not knowing. If you really want to know…”
“Would you really have let a recruit die?” He was surprised by the sudden urgency in his voice. “Really?”
“Theobald… No. We wouldn’t. We’d be castigated if it got out someone had died like that. Those were safety loops. If you hadn’t worked it out by two hundred feet, the automatic current would have kicked in and you’d have floated gently to the ground. Granted we wouldn’t have taken you in, but at least you’d be alive. You think you’re one of the lucky ones because you worked it out?” A chuckle broke into his words. “Maybe in the end, you’ll start to consider those who were sent home the lucky ones.”
Over the next months, the little man… Director Kinpatso Takamishi of the Unisco training facility in Iaku, to give him his full title… had been proved right. It had been an utter bastard of a time. The nights where he hadn’t gone to bed with his body aching horribly could have been counted on the fingers of his right foot. If it wasn’t the hours of just endless running and obstacle courses or the gruelling sessions of unarmed combat, it had been the mental fatigue of spending time in classrooms, running through various exercises intended to help boost deductive skills, environmental awareness, memory, languages, field skills… Even the damn rules, there were more of them than first he’d thought there would, and they were required to recall them all in an instant. Sometimes he went to bed so tired he couldn’t even remember his name, only to be awoken a few hours later with some sort of crazy training drill.
He didn’t regret it though. He thought he’d been in decent shape before. Now, he was becoming a weapon, no part of his body didn’t feel solid with muscle. He could do a push up one handed. And in a strange way, he was happy. Not an ecstatic kind of happy, the sort that would probably have candy-fried his brain before long but the sort that came with a deep sense of satisfaction that he was improving himself. Satisfaction beat ecstasy any day of the week in his mind.
That sense of contentment had turned into a deep burn of dissatisfaction when he’d discovered who else was thriving at the same facility. It had taken him days to discover his presence but to say there’d been a complete sense of unease at the appearance of Peter Jacobs at the academy was an understatement. So much for anonymity. He might have all this new training inside his head, but the old demons remained. He still didn’t like people on the whole. Their capacity to be wholeheartedly, unintentionally or not, desiring towards being liked by every individual who they crossed paths with, he considered a weakness. Jacobs was no different. He knew of the man, knew that he’d extricated himself into a partnership with Scott Taylor to gravitate towards his star.
Strangely enough, when he thought of Taylor, Theo found himself admitting a sense of grudging respect for the man who had been his opponent. He’d given as good as he’d gotten and there’d been several moments during that bout in the final, Theo had been worried about defeat. Granted it hadn’t been a victory but considering the circumstances of that day, he was perhaps justified in considering being alive to be a victory. Jacobs had approached him not long after, the two of them had been in different teams in their initiation, hence the reason it had taken him so long to recognise him. That, and the paralysis with a lack of caring.
That was then, now would have been different. One of the classes here at the academy had consisted of dealing with facial recognition.
“So, you’re here,” Jacobs said, and Theo had given him a cool thousand yards stare while debating whether to call him on his choice in stating the absolute obvious.
“That’s right,” he said. “Nothing much gets past you, does it?”
Uneasy grin, had he touched a nerve? He hoped so. Already he was feeling uncomfortable with the way this conversation might go. Being as brusque as possible might end it sooner rather than later and that would be a good thing. It never failed.
“It was suggested to me that this would be a good career path for me,” Jacobs said, shrugging. “Thought I’d come along, see what it was like. So far…” He tensed up and let out a little grimace. “So far… Hurts a lot. You feel it.”
“I’m doing the same tasks you are, I’d assume, so yes,” Theo replied. Something gave inside him and he cleared his throat. Somehow proffering information came out as harder than holding it in. Nothing new there. “You do that obstacle course yet? The one with the laser grid? Stings, doesn’t it?”
Jacobs grimaced again, more blatantly obvious this time. “Oh yeah. Must have hit that thing like six times. Got a rash on my back where I nearly fell on it.”
Theo chuckled softly. “Graceful, huh?”
“We’re all learning,” Jacobs said nonchalantly. “I’d be worried if I could do all this stuff already. It’s not an achievement if you don’t work for it.”
Well that much was true, Theo had to agree with. Granted it was nice when stuff came easily your way, but on the whole, after all this effort and pain, it’d be awesome when he graduated, and he could legally carry a blaster and a badge. Some had dropped out already, the dorm room where he was sleeping was a few beds lighter than it had been when he’d arrived. Sooner or later they’d be filled again, he guessed but for now he was enjoying the slight dip in the noise and the commotion. Whether they’d left voluntarily or been told they weren’t going to be up to muster was something he couldn’t say. He didn’t know which’d unsettle him more if he was in that position.
“Taylor isn’t here, is he?” Theo asked. He hadn’t seen his former opponent around, yet that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere on the premises. The building felt like it went on forever and the two teams had been kept separate for the most part, though there were rumours they’d be put together when the groups had been thinned down to the last men standing.
Jacobs shook his head. “Nah, last I heard, he was in Premesoir with his girlfriend, enjoying some relaxation after the Quin-C.” He narrowed his eyes at Theo as if expecting some sort of comeback. Theo didn’t oblige him. The past was the past. And that was one thing he was getting out of this if nothing else. The stuff on the spirit calling side. Already there’d even been some of that snuck into the training. Because after all, when the people you were up against were capable of weaponizing their own spirits, it made for those who were better to challenge them. Thanks to the history lessons they insisted on forcing him to sit through, he knew the details on that, as much as he might consider it unnecessary.
“Well it’s okay for some,” Theo said sniffily. “I didn’t expect him to actually be doing something that matters.”
“That’s Scott for you,” Jacobs remarked. “Always seeing things in a different way to everyone else. I love the guy like a brother but…” He shrugged. “Sometimes you get to criticise brothers, right?”
Theo who had no siblings that he knew of and Jacobs whose sister had been killed recently felt that neither had of them had the right to pass comment on that particular thought.
“So why did you sign up?” Jacobs asked, Theo just fixed his eyes on him in a hard fashion in lieu of saying anything. He tried to imagine the guy hurtling out of an aeroship and scrambling for an air loop. Somehow, he just couldn’t see it.
“I’d ask you the same question but I’m sure you’d tell me,” he said dismissively. “I’ve got to go. Got safe cracking one oh one in a few minutes and I really don’t want to miss
that.”
“I’m sure it’ll really open doors for you that one,” Jacobs said before killing himself laughing in a fashion Theo found more than unsettling. He allowed himself a smirk more at the reaction than the comment. It had been witty, but the reaction had been more than unsettling.
“Yes, perhaps.”
Jacobs clapped him on the arm, Theo fought the urge to give him a venom-filled stare and then they were going their separate ways, much to his relief. Still amidst all this chaos and this hardship, all this new stuff that was being crowbarred into his head, it was nice to see a familiar face. Even if it was one that you hadn’t cared for in the past.
That hadn’t been the only strange part about the previous months in the Iaku academy, one other incident came to mind that had drawn confusion. He’d been dragged out of an unarmed combat class that day, something he hadn’t been enjoying even before he’d been clocked on the jaw by a girl whose name he thought was Tamale. He knew it was going to bruise as well. She had one hells of a swing on her, that girl.
“Theobald Jameson! Report to the medical wing.”
Before that, he hadn’t even known that there was a medical wing. He’d supposed that there must have been, much in the same way that he supposed there was a whole section of support staff who made it a point of never being seen by those that were being trained. More than once he’d wondered if they had stealth training as well. The more he thought about it, the more he swore it started to make sense.
He’d gone there in the presence of Bruno Hans, one of the burly instructors who taught unarmed combat. At least Hans looked like he knew how to fight, unlike the slim Burykian, Naka, who’d just been teaching them shang-chiy. All white haired and bearded, he looked more like a monk than a combat expect, an impression quickly thrown away when he sprang into action.
Theo hadn’t been expecting what he found in the medical wing, a small sterile room filled with empty beds. He supposed that was a relief. As tough as the training might be here, it wasn’t verging on the point of dangerous. It seemed like they did know where the breaking point was for their recruits and although he was being pushed close to his, he hadn’t actually gone past it yet.
Out in the middle of the room, he saw a table had been set up and the man behind it wasn’t who Theo had been expecting. A slender woman was stood behind him and his heart did a little leap as he saw her. Unconsciously he smiled at her and she returned the expression.
“Hey,” he said, more to Anne Sullivan than Ruud Baxter. A year back, he might have been excited about meeting Baxter. Now, not so much. Just another spirit caller. He’d met plenty of them. He’d fought plenty of them. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Cadet Jameson,” Baxter broke in with a voice that demanded attention, it tugged his thoughts away from Anne and towards the man with the mismatched eyes. “Sit, please!” It was the sort of command that left no room for interpretation and Theo found himself sitting down across the table from him. “Doubtless you wonder why you’ve been called away from your training.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Theo said uneasily. He’d had no idea Ruud Baxter was involved with Unisco before the whole Coppinger crisis. He’d thought the man was dead. A lot of people had until he’d reappeared months earlier and footage had emerged at the Quin-C final of his people running around with glowing laser swords not unlike the one Anne had clipped to her belt. Sword hilt on one hip, blaster pistol on the other.
Huh… It was a very unusual look for her in his experiences of her. For the longest time, he’d thought she was just a sweet young woman who lacked better judgement than to try and change him. Now though, he had to wonder.
“Nothing too tragic,” Baxter smiled. “We just require some blood from you, Cadet. Nothing more. When you’ve given it, we’ll let you get back to your training.”
Anne looked like she wanted to say something to him, instead chose to remain silent. He found her presence looming behind Baxter reassuring, even if the silence wasn’t.
“Blood?”
Baxter had produced a giant needle and nodded in agreement. “That’s correct. Roll back your sleeve.”
He didn’t like needles and he got the impression both of them knew that. Anne finally broke her silence, spoke to him as the needle went in, drew the blood and he found himself listening to the reassurance in her words, even if he couldn’t make most of them out. He smiled weakly at her and she returned the gesture. It was hands down the sweetest thing he’d seen since being thrown out of that aeroship.
“What exactly do you need blood from me for?” he asked, not moving to roll back his sleeve.
“Just some minor tests. Under Unisco directive forty-two alpha six,” Baxter said. “Which is…?”
“An executive order,” Theo said. “I know; I’ve had the training.” That had been a particularly boring day in which the various directives had been gone through by a particularly thin and sour-looking instructor named Christophe. He’d done his best to pay attention but even with the break from being punched, it was still one of the hardest days he’d suffered through here. “I understand that.”
“It won’t hurt,” Anne offered. He almost shot her a sour look of his own.
“I wasn’t worried about that. I’m just… I don’t know what you want my blood for. And I don’t know why you’d have an executive order for it.”
“It’s not just your blood, Cadet,” Baxter said. “We’re testing all Unisco personnel for…” He paused for a moment, considered his words. Theo found it more unsettling. “We’re testing it for a tiny concentration of particles. In some people, this concentration is larger than others. A lot larger. Mine, for example. Agent Sullivan’s. It’s a big job, we’d have done you sooner if we could. Trust me…” His voice took on a silken tone and despite any better judgement he’d had telling him otherwise, Theo found himself listening a little closer. Anne rolled her eyes. “… We won’t use it for any nefarious purposes. We just wish to test your suitability.”
“Theo,” Anne said. “Trust him. As people go, he’s not a bad guy.”
He’d given them the blood. Not that it felt like he’d ever had any choice. An executive order couldn’t be refused, not without serious ramifications. They were infrequent, even if they’d been told every Unisco regional head got a blank one to use every year for emergencies. In short, more trouble than it was worth to refuse it. He didn’t want to be in that sort of trouble already.
Still Anne’s words had reassured him, even if Baxter’s manner hadn’t. There’d been something more than creepy about him and it wasn’t just the mismatched eyes. He had a quiet intensity about him, a hint at something disturbing beneath the surface. It told him that there was a dangerous man, he didn’t even have to hide it. Some Unisco agents, you could see it on them without even trying. Others did well to conceal it.
Anne had come after him, cornering him in the hallway outside, much to his surprise. She’d felt… Distant in there. Like a different person, somebody that he used to know but didn’t any longer.
“So, how’s it going here?” she’d asked, looking around the sterile corridor. It lacked the personal touch, he had to admit. Now he knew there was a medical wing here, he’d never consider it the same way again.
“Good. Good. Thanks for recommending me,” he said. “It’s been a bit tricky so far in places but nothing I can’t handle.”
She smiled at him, reached out and took his hand. Her hand might have been smaller, but she packed some hells of a squeeze into it. She was warm. “I know you can do it,” she said. “And I know you’ll make a damn good agent. I was right about you. I’m sorry about the blood…”
“What is it about the blood?”
Her smile faded into apology. “I can’t tell you, I really can’t. I’m sorry.” He knew she was lying in an instant, they’d been taught a little about body language and she was displaying many of the symptoms of untruths. Unable to meet his eyes. Quiet, rushed voice. Arms folded in front of her
, a defensive stance.
His own smile faded, taking his good feeling with it. “I see.”
“Don’t be like that,” she pleaded. “We won’t do anything nefarious with it. Promise. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?”
A very good question indeed. And one to this day that he still didn’t have an answer to.
Chapter Five. The Mission.
“Your presence across our expedition would be most appreciated. I’m glad you changed your mind. Your name helps open doors that might otherwise be closed to us. I’m aware that the political situation in Vazara is a little testy at the moment, but all our approvals have been signed off, our visas approved. We’ll meet you at the following date at the following location.”
Message from Doctor Alex Fazarn to Brendan King regarding expedition to Vazara.
Recovering hurt.
To go from being broken to being whole again was a harder job than he’d expected, nor was it a pleasant one. Six months of fixing himself following his last mission and he believed he was ready. He couldn’t argue with the doctors who’d said he wasn’t before. The job was a hard one and going out unfit was suicidal.
Boredom was the greatest enemy though. Six months without an active mission and he was ready to climb the walls in frustration. David Wilsin’s body still ached in places. Chances were, he’d been warned on more than one occasion by multiple doctors, that they would likely continue indefinitely. Fixing bones wasn’t that much of an issue these days. It could be done in hours if need be. Wearing them in, on the other hand, wasn’t entirely pleasant. Six months he’d been waiting for it to wear off and slowly it was happening. The drugs had helped but he’d been weaning himself off them, trying to manage the pain. He’d tried telling himself that he didn’t need them. Some days he even felt normal. He’d broken a lot of bones, enough for the non-Unisco doctors who’d first examined him to question how it had happened and he’d not entirely had an immediate answer through the pain.