Directorate School (The Directorate Book 1)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Those left behind. There's no reason for the One to fight them."

  Ebsa thought that over. "Other then a threat to the One's mistique as the voice of god? What will happen to their power if . . . "

  Ra'd grinned. "If everyone thinks they're a Grand Compass that cannot disengage? Perhaps they would have to obey their own rules and, dare I say it? Attempt to disengage?"

  Ebsa boggled. "I . . . highly recommend you not dare where anyone else can hear you."

  The weekend arrived. Thank the One. Somehow the weeks here felt more like two or three. If he could survive one more morning run he would be free for the rest of the day. To study. But maybe he ought to loaf a little.

  Paer matched his pace, the first lap. At least she had trouble running and talking. "This afternoon. All of us. Vid Theater. Tomb. Of the. Warriors."

  He perked up. "You bet." pant, pant. "Where are. We meet. Ing."

  "Tram station. Fifteen. Hundred."

  "Right."

  She fell back gradually, and Ebsa fought an impulse to slow a bit. When did I start beating her? I guess she was already in good shape, without much room for improvement. But now that I'm faster, I have to keep my score up. What the coach would say is nothing, compared to Ra'd's sneer. Damned machine. Maybe that's it. He's an experimental robot.

  He finished, and paused briefly to check the standings. He hadn't moved up any further, but at least his times were still improving.

  He showered, picked out more casual clothes, not that he had a large choice. Contemplated his card balance. One theater vid a week will wreck me. Especially if we eat somewhere. I'll have to plead massive study requirements every weekend for a month. Good thing room and board are free—contingent on my working for one of the Directorates for five years, post graduation.

  Rumors were that any number of companies would pay the tuition and living expenses back to the school, to hire a top graduate. But Ebsa wanted to go across. To explore, to meet new people. Quite apart from knowing that he was a good student, and smart, but wasn't going to be top of the class.

  "I just hope I don't get sent to some Interior Directorate office in some District headquarters. Ugg." He headed down for breakfast. Maybe if he stuffed himself at lunch, he could limit the financial damage later.

  He was the last one to the tram station in the afternoon.

  Paer grinned. "Thank the One we didn't pick a girly vid. I think none of you guys would have made it."

  Ra'd glanced at Ebsa. They both nodded.

  "Boys!" Heak rolled her eyes.

  Nighthawk looked puzzled.

  Does Comet Fall have vids of any sort? How does a culture hovering between Medieval and Early Industrial, even with magic, prepare a young woman for college in a high tech world? Not to mention the social interactions.

  But they must at least have plays.

  It was a pretty good bash'em'up of a vid. But Ra'd started growling low voiced insults almost as soon as it started. "Stupid." As the hero bought a map from a very oddly dressed character. "Asinine," as he met a beautiful woman with a mysterious past. "It doesn't work like that," as he opened a coffin and awoke a sleeping Warrior of the One. "People don't react like that," as the hero immediately tried to kill the Warrior, and "finally," as the hero got slapped across the room.

  Paer elbowed him. "Shhh!" Several times.

  Ra'd crossed his arms and finally kept his peace—radiating disapproval—all through the hero pursuing the Evil Warrior across the desert and stopping him in a climactic battle in a tomb full of Warriors in suspended animation in their "coffins."

  And then the mysterious woman, her curse removed, gave the hero a passionate kiss, as she began turning into ashes and blew away.

  "Next time please pick a girly movie!" Ra'd stomped off.

  Paer followed Ra'd out of the theater. "You weren't suppose to take it seriously! Honestly, you have no perspective."

  The rest of them followed.

  "They didn't even get the uniforms right." Ra'd stalked out to the street. "It ruined my appetite."

  "Nothing ruins your appetite."

  "So . . . you guys know each other pretty well?" Nighthawk looked from Paer to Ra'd.

  A snort from Ra'd. "We've been thrown together off and on for four years. My family stayed at Versalle for a few months, as the President's guests. My courtesy uncle is training the guards there."

  "And if you think Ra'd is a stiff old fashioned grump, you should meet his Uncle Isakson. The experience will introduce you to whole new levels of stiff, old fashioned, and grumpy."

  Ra'd hesitated, then shrugged. "True."

  Nighthawk snickered. "So, did you come here because it was far enough away from Paris to be safe?"

  Ra'd glanced her way. "At least I didn't run away from home."

  Nighthawk sniffed. "Only sensible thing to do. And getting even further away was even better."

  "Deep into enemy territory? Not very sensible."

  "Someone had to be first." Nighthawk shrugged. "The people here tested me before they'd admit that perhaps I really did know calculus and whatever. Maybe after a few more students have been through they will accept the University of Karista class credits without testing."

  "And why did they send a woman?"

  "They decided that you lot would probably find a woman less threatening than a man." Nighthawk looked innocent. "Of course the demonstrable fact that women are better at everything except brute force came into it as well."

  Heak frowned. "Weren't they worried about you being attacked?"

  "Oh sure." She shrugged. "Do you guys have any idea the kind of reputation you've got, everywhere you've been? Sheesh. Your Action Team trainees sure are 'interesting.' Why do you indulge them?"

  "They're the cultural heirs of the Warriors of the One. The . . . " Azko broke off at a glare from Ra'd

  "They are nothing like Warriors." Ra'd snorted suddenly. "Although they are much closer than that movie portrayed Warriors."

  Nighthawk rolled her eyes. "That was just a standard monster movie. You could have substituted almost anything, anyone, and not even had to change the dialog."

  Multiple chokes and Ra'd laughed.

  Ebsa looked over at the witch. "So . . . if you lot are sort of Medieval, how do you know about vids."

  "The old gods have a lot of their old stuff stashed in dimensional bubbles. Not high tech coffins like in the movie. They bring movies out occasionally, especially for all of us who are trying to come here and check you lot out.

  I wonder just how much power she's hiding behind that shield? He eyed her thoughtfully as she and Ra'd kept bickering. The first exchange student. They'd send the best.

  And just maybe I can ace that New History class. Assuming Professor Ivy will allow cites of "Personal communications from a Comet Fall Witch" as a legitimate source.

  In early warm ups, Monday, Ebsa piled up pads and made Azko jump off them. And jump from one stack to another.

  The ceiling had been quickly replaced. Wires dangled, waiting for new light fixtures. The gym smelled just faintly of smoke.

  Edge walked in and glared at Azko up on the pile of mats.

  Ebsa smiled innocently. "It's for learning to balance on squishy things. There's a big difference in jumping off something hard and something soft. You should try it."

  Azko jumped, staggered on landing, and turned to step back up.

  "You are an idiot." Edge stalked off, then veered to intercept Nighthawk as she walked in.

  Ra'd and Ebsa swapped glances.

  "She has been warned, hasn't she?" Ebsa started that direction, stopped as Ra'd grabbed his shoulder.

  "Stop being such a nanny. Nothing will happen here, and we can talk to her later without getting into a fight with Edge."

  "I'm not a nanny. And since when did you start being the sensible person around here?"

  "It's only temporary, and done for all the wrong reasons. I have a younger sister, you see. Anyone tells her to stay away from a particular
boy? She'll be all the more determined to land him."

  Ebsa grinned. "Yeah I've heard horror stories about little sisters."

  Paer snorted, walking up behind him. "Only child, or only brothers?"

  "Only child." Ebsa eyed her.

  "Don't. Ask."

  Ra'd snorted. "I think every newsperson in the Empire has asked either Paer or her father when he's going to marry again."

  Newsperson? Where the One Hell do they use that term?

  "Twice. At least." Paer frowned over at Edge and Nighthawk. "Yo, Hawk, let's get to work."

  Azko abandoned his pile of pads. "Yeah, quick. Before Ebsa thinks of something else silly for me to do."

  Edge shifted as Nighthawk moved, so she bumped him.

  She tossed her head and ignored him.

  "We're comparing families. Paer and I are only children. Ra'd has a sister."

  "Half sister." Ra'd eyed Nighthawk.

  "I have two half sisters on my mother's side, and well, who knows about my father's side. We don't do families like most people do."

  "It's all about the women, isn't it?" Paer stepped into line on the main mats.

  "Yep. I've got two aunts and five cousins. All girls, of course. Let's see . . . Only one niece, so far. Aunt Elegant's got three kids and Justice, her oldest daughter has four daughters . . . Oh, I'd have to work it out on paper to figure out how many relatives I've got."

  "Wow." Paer looked wistful. "Sounds like fun."

  Nighthawk's hair shimmered across her shoulders as she shook her head. "I ran away to live with my maternal grandfather, and be near my Dad, when I was nine years old."

  "Ooo, I'll bet that was a scandal."

  "Not really. All the dissatisfied witches run away to Harry's. They just leave us there until we drag home on our own. Not that I ever did. Ugg. I just go back to Ash for classes and the major ceremonials. And I avoid my family as much as possible."

  "Does your Grandfather live in Karista? That's where the biggest university is, right?" Paer looked like she wanted to start taking notes.

  "Right. No, there's a corridor. I live in Crossroads."

  "Would your grandfather perhaps be Harry Murchison, the God of Travelers?" Ebsa remembered the pictures of the old African man. But apart from her complexion . . . She looks like Xen Wolfson. And no wonder she's not supposed to talk about her family.

  "Oh . . . I really can't talk about it."

  Ra'd's eyes narrowed. "I've done some research . . . Harry Murchison was a traitor, working with the slavers."

  "Think you can make me lose my temper?" Nighthawk tossed her head. "Some of the oldest of the Tellies—that's what they called themselves—were emancipated. They were created as research projects, in universities, and when the universities realized they were intelligent and, well, people, they took legal steps to free them. They took jobs at Trans World to try to change the system from the inside, get the company to treat the Tellie kids like people, not property. Harry says it didn't work, but it was about the only thing they could try."

  Ra'd sniffed. "Of course it didn't work. The Tellies were much too valuable."

  Ebsa grinned. "And the Tellies were too civilized to blow the place up."

  "Actually, they did, when they escaped. They wanted to destroy the rings, so they couldn't be found. Of course, that was the God of War, not the Traveler."

  Ra'd's voice was dry. "Oh, of course. Who else? Your Grandfather would never do such a thing."

  Nighthawk glared. "Wolfgang Oldham, the God of War, is my other grandfather, not that I ought to say so."

  Holy crap! Two old gods . . . Nighthawk is the equivalent of a Warrior. The real thing, not that generic Bad Guy in the movie

  Azko's thoughts had followed the same track. "So . . . if you were a man, you'd be like a Warrior of the One, for your world."

  She sniffed. "Our witch gene is dominant, we didn't go through those generations of powerful men and mostly powerless women that you had, on top of the Arab cultural subjugation of women. Witches fight." She took up the position beside Paer and settled into the starting stance.

  Ebsa stepped up , and led them through the first kata.

  When the sensei started them all on mental bonding, Nighthawk bowed politely to the sensei and left. She's not one of us. Isn't about to lower her shields.

  They practiced telepathy, and stronger readings. I guess mental work doesn't count as magic.

  A thought floated in from Arvi. :: The Directorate School doesn't adhere strictly to the University's method of magical training. Especially for students on the team track. You will learn mental techniques that are useful for teams now, and 'proper' magic after you've passed Intro."

  Two hours later, he could safely say that "Newsperson" was a rare archaic term, used mostly in Makkah, and possibly originating with the New Prophets, that had fallen from use a thousand years previously. Not helpful. Other than pinpointing Makkah as probably the only place it might still be used. A tiny bit of confirmation that Ra'd really is Makkah clan. Maybe I should research the clan, I've heard it's different from most other clans. And both Nighthawk and Ra'd called the vids, movies. Old fashioned, but not as weird as Newsperson.

  Chapter Ten

  7 Hija 1402 yp

  Ebsa checked his mail at breakfast and found a brief note on his computer from a guy so old he ought to qualify as a father figure, not a friend. But Bruno had never bothered with that nasty growing up stuff, so . . . "Hey kid, Raod says you're pulling down good marks, and your mom thinks the girls are swarming you. Come cheer for the home team." And he'd attached tickets. No fool, he wasn't from the good side of the enclave. He knew how little spare cash Ebsa had.

  "Ha! Ten tickets." Ebsa blinked. Checked the York Arena's seating . . . "Ten really good tickets."

  Ra'd thumped his shoulder. "What to? Girly movie?"

  "Football. Strictly Macho stuff." Ebsa looked over his shoulder at the girls. "Who wants to watch the Montevideo Flash beat the undies off the New York No Hope?"

  Heak crossed her arms and glared.

  "Oh dear. A Nomads fan. So, we all going?" Ebsa eyed the bodyguards as they edged in closer. He tilted the screen so they could see the tickets. "Looks like good seats, but I dunno about security."

  Paer growled under her breath. "I'm going. Adjust to it."

  The seats were fantastic. Right on the centerline, up a tier with good sight of the whole field, right on the front rail. The Flash tromped the Nomads, so the girls, who'd all cheered on the Nomads had to buy dinner on the way home. Ebsa chose a place that was quick and cheap, both because it was late and because he might be paying the forfeit next time and didn't want to set a bad example.

  Halfway home, his mother called and informed him, at high volume, that he wasn't allowed to marry Princess Paer, as then she'd never have grandchildren. "Mom, I'm not . . . She's not . . . I . . . " He looked despairingly at the phone where his mother was lecturing him about Oner genetics. He hit the off button. "I should have known she'd be watching the game. And that you'd be attracting half the crowd shots."

  Paer stifled giggles. "I'm so used to it, I barely notice cams anymore."

  Heak and Azko swapped wide-eyed looks.

  Ebsa's turn to smirk. "You two will be hearing from you parents any time now."

  Heak shook her head. "N, nooo. I should be clear. Dad never watches the crowd shots or advertisements. That's when he works on the snacks that mom sets out."

  Even Ra'd was grinning. "Soooo, I didn't realize you were here to catch a High Oner wife."

  "Wasn't that a great game?" Ebsa said.

  The girls just laughed harder.

  "You hung up on your mother! Ebsa, you are in so much trouble!" Paer wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

  "I know. I'm not going to turn it back on until afternoon tomorrow." Ebsa shut his mouth on anything he might have said about Paer's mother. Young, playing the Game and furious to have gotten pregnant by her first ever husband, then a lowly regional senator. Walk
ed off in a huff, without the baby. Half a dozen more husbands and no more children. Missed out on being the Empire's most popular and famous woman while her husband held office. Virtually unmarriageable now, as men feared being unable to match the President's "feat" of a baby.

  Genetic competition via competitive fertility. Insanity. Even more insane than the Halfers and Servaones trying to breed up.

  Maybe I need to worry less about my genetic label and more about real accomplishments. I'm actually lucky to have dodged the Game.

  He pulled his gaze away from Paer's happy glow. Her grin as she swiped her hair out of her face. Eyes bright as she laughed at him. And I'd better dodge this, too.

  And for the first time in his life actually wished he was a Withione.

  Chapter Eleven

  21 Hija 1402 yp

  And for better or worse—mostly worse—they wound up included in the Action Trainee pack for some off-campus forays. Ebsa had slowly realized that what he had considered martial arts classes were actually training in physical and mental coordination for the teams that would go across to other worlds. Trailing around the city, staying aware of each other's location and general state as they spread out over several city blocks was . . . interesting.

  Edge was obviously from a well-to-do family. He had a townhouse. Small, but in a "good" area.

  "I thought we all had to live on campus?" Ebsa looked around the neighborhood. Well planned and kept up landscaping in the pocket-sized front yards. No doubt discreet security systems everywhere.

  The door lock clicked as Edge approached. "We do, but my Dad thought I needed a place for the weekends and holidays." He shrugged. "It'll do for the rest of this year. Then I'll sell it and get something in Gate City."

  And I'll turn handsprings of joy, when you leave. Ebsa glanced up, yep the dark glass circle of a security cam was set into the frame of the porch roof. He followed Edge over the threshold into a small sitting room. Huge vid screen on one side wall, couch against the other. A stairway crossed half the width of the back wall. A corridor down to what looked like a kitchen used the rest.