by Pam Uphoff
Home to almost all of the people who merged with Helaos.
It had started as a halfway camp, to be sure the Oner personality was dominating, to deal with unwanted physical manifestations before the merge victims of the Helios went home. . . They'd realized early that it was going to have to be a permanent home for many.
Because the soldiers were considered untrustworthy, and the women—college students for the most part—were definitely not hot marriage prospects anymore, given possible genetic alterations. Employment uncertain. Not welcomed home, the neighbors rejecting the changes in them, and sometimes families, both parents and spouses, as well.
Mostly Oners, but a few of the Merged were from another earth, one raided by the Helaos for merge victims, or just for women.
Some families had joined the merged here, more might come once they'd finished building the basic amenities of a modern civilization. They'd finally formed a real government, where before they'd just taken orders from him and his team. He'd sent most of his people off to new assignments—well, three had retired here—and Fean was starting Grad School.
"And now I have to leave? One! I hope this is quick. I'd really prefer a proper wrap up. Sit around bored while the civvie government takes over everything." He looked around and spotted the man he needed. "Ebsa? Congratulations. You are about to get some valuable leadership experience . . ."
***
Six months in, Xiat Withione Abadan Black Point was wondering why she'd left Criminal Investigations for Analysis. A couple of years at CI had broadened her experience, but returning to what she was better at had seemed like a good idea.
Until Izzo had been promoted to Subdirector of Analytics.
A strictly professional relation had suddenly become necessary . . . and difficult.
And now her former lover and current boss was worried about this Patriarchal convention. Too many pre-cogs, too many dreams about it. Nothing clear or definite. "He's starting his move" and "the next one" seemed to be the limit of the hard information. Who was moving on what, and whether the 'what' was the same as the 'next one' was typically clouded and uncertain.
Two years until the insanity of a presidential election, but it could be early maneuvers with that as the goal. Or something entirely unrelated.
The Director of Internal Relations had more than once threatened to just shut down the Pre-Cognition and Divination Lab.
Both Director Efge and Subdirector Izzo had spoken to her before her departure.
"Two of the three most powerful men in the War Party are Black Point Clan." The Director was the third, of course. "They're using the Patriarchal race as a proxy battle for control of the Party. Beware dirty tricks." His fingers drummed on the table and his eyes were narrowed, thinking of something he wasn't saying.
How to use this to his own political advantage.
"And violence." Subdirector Izzo had smiled ruefully. "Watch out for Bully Boys on each side. And don't enjoy yourself too much beating them up, if the opportunity arises."
Efge had shaken his head. "If you kill any of them, try to make it look like an accident. If they don't know your training and affiliation, all the better. I'd as soon be invisible in this, however much I'd love to see both Arlw and Axti defeated."
Speaking of presidential aspirations. Surely Efge wasn't planning to run . . . this time. Popular presidents tend to stay in office for twenty years. Four terms. President Orde will probably not run in 1415. I'll bet that's what Efge's aiming for.
But if either Arlw or Axti run and actually defeat Orde in 1410 . . . Efge could kiss a presidential run goodbye for another twenty years.
"Right. I'll see what I can do." Xiat left Efge's office with Izzo.
And since Izzo was her boss, he hadn't kissed her good bye.
Dammit.
I should transfer back into Investigations. Or the Presidential Directorate. This professionalism is . . . frustrating.
***
Two corridors and a train ride later, Xiat eyed the "reception committee" at the Black Point Station. Young men and old. Only about half the number she'd been expecting.
About five of them spoke at once, a babble of obscene suggestions. One leering face, unfortunately familiar. Equally familiar, penetrating voice. "Hey, Xiat, need a place to stay?"
"One! Ewmo, what are you doing here begging for sex?
"I'm not begging. I'm offering hospitality."
"He's worthless, take me instead!" She didn't know that one, but he grabbed her arm, and that was something she was not prepared to allow. A simple hip throw dropped him flat on the platform. She snapped her mental shields down a quarter, and power-punched to his abdomen. Nothing like a bit of magically enhanced brute force.
Gaping for air, he still reached for the magic. He waved his right hand uselessly. Even at three-quarters shield, she easily bounced his attempt at a simple stun spell. She walked past, stomping the hand that tried for a grab. She kept the contact light, no need to break anything. At least perverts weren't as pervasive as they used to be. If the town hadn't been crowded, the Clan called in for the vote, there probably wouldn't have been a single one on the platform. She kept the stranger in the corner of her eye and saw him stagger to his feet. He headed the other direction. Good.
Ewmo was still following. Bad.
"Hey, Xiat. Haven't seen you since we graduated. Hey, I've got a position in the Commerce and Trade Department now, apartment in Paris."
"Get lost Ewmo. I have my own apartment in Paris, and no lack of company much higher than you."
"Hey, I stayed in quarantine, kept all my prophets' genes. I could probably get you pregnant, now."
Xiat made a rude gesture. She was not looking forward to this homecoming. Mainly because of idiots like this one. But this was business, not pleasure.
And if Ewmo tried to kiss her, she would kill him. The engineered plague that had removed three pairs of genes from the One had received a very mixed reaction. The genes had affected aggression, especially the identification of the proper targets for aggression. With their removal, rapes had plummeted. Scenes like this one on the rail platform had disappeared except in a few high population areas. Not even a magical plague could infect everyone. But even if some of the effects were welcome, it was still an attack on the One, and struck at the very definition of the One. Which was one reason this election was so important.
If they would just approve the genetic engineering to replace those genes . . . we could have increased rape statistics instead of a war. Or, given our feelings of outrage and vulnerability, both rape and war. One save me!
She towed her luggage down the ramp, and caught the tram up the very aptly named Hill Street.
"I take it you have a place to stay?"
She sighed loudly. Cranked her shields almost closed. Aura and sex appeal being close to the same thing, maybe she'd show the absolute minimum polite amount all week long. Save herself a world of trouble. Maybe. "I'm staying at Aunt Kiaj's."
"Oh yeah, Aunt Kiaj's has got her old buddies back, hasn't she? And Poppy and Phoebe are their kids and I'll bet they invited the rest. All the old Cheer Squad back together, eh?"
Ewmo was not actually stupid.
"Yeah. All us girls, back together again."
They were all of the One, with all that implied in magical abilities, long life, excellent health, miserably low fertility.
"Well, I'll see you around." Ewmo dropped off at Spinnaker Lane.
The tram labored up the steep hill past Jib and then Topgallant, where she dropped off. She pulled her luggage four houses down the street—the lots were large, with lots of privacy afforded by the coastal redwoods growing thickly between homes. There were no fences, just a few enclosed patios.
The houses all had security systems hooked to their computers. She tapped the control on her bracer to turn her implants on. They identified her to the house computer as soon as she turned up the sidewalk toward the building. Women burst from the house. "Xiat! Yay! Now we're
all here!" A mixed up chorus from five women. Ten years since she'd seen most of them. Fifty plus years since they'd all palled around. If she hadn't known better she'd have guessed them all still in their early twenties. Bless those artificial genes. She herself had every single one of them, and investigating undercover she'd been known to pass herself off as eighteen.
Judging from the squeals, the other women were going to be acting like they were still eighteen.
Ebook available from Amazon.com February 2018
About the Author
I was born and raised in California, and have lived more than half my life, now, in Texas.
Wonderful place. I caught almost the first bachelor I met here, and we’re coming up on our thirty-seventh anniversary.
My degree's in Geology. After working for an oil company for almost ten years as a geophysicist, I “retired” to raise children. As they grew, I added oil painting, sculpting and throwing clay, breeding horses, volunteering in libraries and for the Boy Scouts, and treasurer for a friend’s political campaign. Sometime in those busy years, I turned a love of science fiction into a part time job reading slush (Mom? Someone is paying you to read??!!)
I've always written, published a few short stories. But now that the kids have flown the nest, I'm calling writing a full time job.
Directorate School was my seventeenth novel, and first in a spin-off series. Shadow Zone is the seventh in the series. Number eight, Black Point Clan, should out in February of 2018, with three more this year—Project Dystopia, Fractured Loyalties, and External Relations.
Meanwhile, in the main Wine of the Gods Series, Final Merge will be released in late January 2018.
And I have some unrelated work in progress . . . The first Space Marshal to the wild frontier of the Asteroid Belt, and an orphaned werewolf raised by very nice (and very tolerant) foster parents goes off to seek his blood relatives—and might live to regret it.
So I may publish a few more titles before the end of the year.
Email [email protected] to join the mailing list for notifications of new releases.
Other Titles by Pam Uphoff
Wine of the Gods Series:
Outcasts and Gods
Exiles and Gods (Three Novellas)
The Black Goats
Explorers
Spy Wars
One Alone
Comet Fall
A Taste of Wine (Seven Tales)
Dark Lady
Growing Up Magic (Four Novellas)
Young Warriors
God of Assassins
Heirs of Crown and Spear
The Fiend
Empire of the One
Warriors of the One
Dancer
Earth Gate
Mages at Large
Art Theft
Triplets
Sea Wolves
Bad Karma
Dark Side of the Moon
Cascades
Olympian
Embassy
Rael
On the Run
God of the Sun
Cannibal World
No Confidence
Pure Poison
Flying
Mall Santa
Saturday Night
The Directorate Series
Directorate School
A Tale of Three Interns
Trouble in Paradise
First Posting
Surveillance
Fort Dinosaur
The Lawyers of Mars
Fancy Free
Time Loop
Writing as Zoey Ivers
YA Cyberpunk Adventures:
The Barton Street Gym
Chicago
Atlantis+
Fantasy:
Demi God