Directorate School (The Directorate Book 1)

by Pam Uphoff

  They took the back rows.

  Sensei Arvi walked in and scowled. Probably because of all the closed expressions. Or possibly the hard mental shields. Or the gap between the five of them and the older students.

  Ebsa eyed Wedge and City. A square with one of them could be interesting.

  "Today we will do katas. You five have demerits for missed classes. Not as many as I ought to have given." He worked them all mercilessly, and they dragged out limply without having exchanged a word with the others. Eschewed the showers at the gym and headed for their dorms.

  Paer's guards herded her off toward a black car. They aren't going to let her sleep in the dorm.

  Ebsa looked back at the gym. No sign of the older students. Probably in the showers, waiting to ambush us. Unless they ran out the back door . . . He looked back at the others. Ra'd trotted off straight ahead, refusing to look tired. Azko and Heak veered off to the right. Heak would be walking the last stretch alone. Ebsa turned and cut across the lawn, around a stand of trees. No sign of lurking thugs.

  He trotted down the sidewalk. Bloody landscapers with forest fetishes. The first girls' dorm was right . . . there. With Heak surrounded by the Action Trainees.

  He cursed his white gi; no point in even trying to sneak up on them. Don't run, don't precipitate anything. . . get your comm out and start recording. . . He stepped into the shadows of the trees and held his comm up, aimed at the group.

  Blob lunged for Heak. She jumped out of the way and he tripped, hit the ground hard. And laid there.

  The men halted. Staring in disbelief at the man on the ground.

  Heak pulled out her comm and started tapping.

  Ape reached for her.

  "I am calling a medic. He hit his head rather hard, don't you think?" Her tones were icy and superior. Barely a squeak.

  Ape stepped back, consternation on his face as he stared down at the body on the ground. "He's breathing."

  Ebsa stood still in the shadows, recording. Sirens howled in the near distance. The police arrived first.

  "Stand back." The policeman clearly didn't like the sight of five large men and one obviously younger woman. But he knelt and felt for a pulse. Muttered something under his breath, probably a subvocal pickup. Then he raised his voice. "Would anyone care to tell me what happened here?"

  "She hit him . . . " Mac trailed off under his own friends' withering glares.

  "I was walking back to my dorm." Heak's voice squeaked. "Three of these guys stepped out and blocked the path, then the others got behind me. When Blob reached for me, I dodged. He tripped and fell. At no time did I make physical contact with him."

  At which point the ambulance arrived with two medics who waved them all away while they checked Blob, then carefully rolled him over.

  From a distance Ebsa could only catch snatches of speech, something about pupils and reactive, which he vaguely thought was good.

  Then the Chief of Police arrived. He eyed the young man on the ground then loomed over Heak. "Surprised you stuck around."

  Heak straightened and looked the man straight in the eye. "I didn't want the stupid jerk to die in the thirty seconds between my leaving and the medics arriving." Heak glanced from Wedge to City. "Perhaps I ought to accompany him to the hospital, to be sure."

  The chief sputtered.

  They were starting to attract spectators. Sensei Arvi pushed through the crowd. Looked down at the man on the ground, then around at the others. "And what were you six doing here? Staking out the girls' dorms?"

  Ape hunched his shoulders. "We wanted to know what they were up to. Figured we could scare this one into talking without laying a finger on her. And we didn't." He looked over to where the medics were lifting Blob onto a gurney, with the campus police lending muscle to the task. "What about a stun spell? Is there any sign of that?"

  "Apde." Arvi's voice was soft but clear. "Miss Heak is seventeen years old. She has had no training beyond the usual mental shields. All five of you, on the other hand, have had three years of training, including drills in attack spells. I suggest that if an attempt to set up another student for a criminal charge is in progress, you cease quickly."

  "No! He just tripped and crashed. Except he's not clumsy." Ape glared back at Heak. "You know Blob doesn't just trip and hit his head."

  The medics rolled the gurney away. The campus policeman returned. "First. I want no political games played on my campus. Especially since there's been one death already. This is the second injury, in what looks an awful lot like a hunting pack of Action Trainees." His glare was split between the trainees, with a side glance at the Chief of police.

  "Two deaths. Nighthawk is dead." Ebsa stepped out into the sunlight. Holding his comm lower, but still recording. "Tell me Chief. Why didn't you go to Makkah to testify. Why didn't the two main witnesses go? What are the names of the priests who witnessed the truthings?"

  "Listen you little shit. You start behaving or you're going to be spending a whole lot of time behind bars." The chief leaned toward him.

  "Let's see. Wrde, Wdge, you guys related? Father and son? No, uncle? I see, so Wedge knew who to call when . . . "

  "Shut. Up."

  Ebsa looked him up and down. "Always wondered what a cold blooded murderer looked like."

  Arvi's hand fell on his shoulder. "You are leaving. Right. Now."

  Ebsa glanced back at Heak. Paer was with her now, four guards in attendance. "Right." He turned and walked away. Got to make copies of this recording. Just in case.

  The campus police man was looking seriously unhappy. "Chief Wrde? Who were the priests . . . "

  But the Chief had already walked away.

  Ebsa looked over at Arvi. "Why are you surprised? You've trained your teamers to be violent killers. Encouraged their spoiled egos. Have you ever said a word about honor, honesty, obeying the law? They're all twisted, and you let them get worse. Stop looking shocked. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Bullies, rapists, and murderers. So go back and see if you can keep the rest of your bully boys out of jail . . . tonight."

  Ebsa sent the recording, then he showered, changed clothes and headed out to find a reporter.

  A defiant Heak joined them at the tram station. "Unfortunately no one got arrested. Blob woke up and said he tripped over something, and he hadn't been reaching for me, certainly wouldn't dream of hurting a nice young lady." She snorted. "I saw him. He had a beautiful scraped and bruised goose egg on his forehead, and scraped the heck out of the heels of both hands. He really did hit the ground hard. Jerk."

  Ebsa nodded. "I sent all of you copies of the recording I made of Heak being loud and rude to the chief. It was beautiful." And that was a hell of a fall for just a trip. But who was there—besides the rest of the Action trainees—who could have shoved him down so hard? So invisibly. He shivered a bit. Endi Dewulfe . . . but why would he care about Heak? Or has he talked to Paer already? Or is he stalking Wedge and City? Oh dammit all to hell. We tried, and failed. He doesn't even know we exist.

  Yija "Call me Jiffy" Clostuone was gleefully delighted to invite the five witnesses to the events around the murder into his lair for an interview.

  "So, tell me all about Nighthawk." He wasn't even taking notes. Apparently that was the job of the girl sitting at the computer.

  Ebsa smiled. "How about you tell us all about the trial?"

  "Hey, you agreed to an interview."

  "Sure did. And now I'm conducting it. Were you in the courtroom?" Ebsa tried to ignore the clicking keys to his side.

  Annoyance flashed across Jiffy's face. "No, it was a closed trial."

  "Why do you think that was?"

  "Listen kid . . ." his eyes narrowed. "Why do you think it was closed?"

  "To hide the fact that the Chief of Police conducted the truthing without witnesses. To hide the length of time between the so-called witnesses walking through the door moments after passing Nighthawk on the sidewalk and calling the police. To avoid actual investigation into what
happened afterwards."

  Both reporter and girl stopped and boggled at him. The girl recovered and started clicking again, double speed.

  Jiffy crossed his arms; a tinge of disgust crept into his voice. "You think she was innocent? She was judged by the One."

  Ebsa nodded. "And the Chief of Police didn't travel there, neither of the two 'witnesses' went there. Nighthawk was kept so drugged that I'm not sure even the One could read her."

  "Eight days from crime to execution? How often does that happen?" Azko nodded at the girl's computer. "I ran a quick search, and could only find two recent instances, and in both cases the defendant pled guilty, and made no effort to change the verdict."

  The man's eyes narrowed. "How do you know who did or didn't go to Makkah?"

  Ebsa took over. "Because we did go there. We argued for summoning the witnesses, summoning the Chief of Police and if there were any priests witnessing, them as well. We urged them to wait until Nighthawk was drug free."

  'They didn't care." Paer leaned into the reporter's space. "They want a war. They want everyone to hate Comet Fall. If they can goad them into attacking, if they can turn Endi Dewulfe into a hated enemy, they will seal the split between the philosophers and become supreme and powerful again."

  "You think Endi, Xen Wolfson, will care about one girl?"

  "Yes. Even if Nighthawk weren't his daughter, his oldest child." Paer folded her hands. "We've a scoop for you. But we want information."

  Ebsa checked the list they'd made. "First, do you know if there were priests witnessing any of the truth match testimony?"

  The reporter shook his head.

  "Second, did you interview any of the neighbors? Check for security vids that might show anything?"

  "That's what the police do . . . " His eyes narrowed.

  "Third, did you interview the coroner?"

  "No! I just . . . accepted everything the police said at the time. What sort of scoop? You already told me she was Wolfson's daughter."

  "Any recent news circulating, about Xen ?" Paer eyed him. "I overheard Urfa tell my father that he'd resigned from Disco. He said there was speculation he'd also resigned from the Army of the West."

  Jiffy sat back with a thump. "He's gone rogue. Jihad. Vengeance. Oh One."

  "Revenge. Yes. For the judicial murder of his daughter. What is he going to do? And who is he going to do it to?"

  "The Chief of Police, the judge, the prosecutor . . . " Jiffy was nearly breathless.

  Paer shrugged. "I don't know. And neither does anyone else. I know him, but I've never seen him grieving. I'd like to think he won't kill anyone."

  They left him there, gasping like a fish. And turning to his computer.

  "If that doesn't stir things up, nothing will." Ebsa strode out of the building. "Let's go talk to Edge's neighbors, see if they've got any security cam views that caught Edge and Nighthawk."

  Running footsteps behind them. The girl, juggling a video camera, straps flapping all over.

  "I'm coming too. I'm going to dog your steps and see what happens." She hoisted the cam onto one shoulder and started fastening straps. "Much steadier than handheld cams."

  They swapped glances and shrugs.

  "I'm Koil, I'm a journalism student, working part time. Now with a big break in sight. You can't lose me."

  Azko snickered. "You know, she'd actually be useful. Newspaper reporters doing follow up articles and vids are much more likely to get interviews than some nosey kids."

  "Good afternoon, ma'am. We're with the York News, doing follow up stories on the murder down the street. Were you home . . . " Slam.

  Next house . . .

  They split up in pairs, and worked both sides of the street.

  Ebsa braced himself, the first time he charmed a neighbor into showing him the security footage from the afternoon of the murder. But the security cam was angled to show her porch and the short walk up to it. Nothing else. No picture of a girl on her way to death. He thanked the neighbor politely and headed for the next house. A man told him to get lost before he called the police. Skipped Edge's house, of course, and walked up to the next.

  "Go away. I'm not buying anything."

  Behind him, Heak snickered.

  "I'm with York News, Ma'am, doing follow up human interest stories about your neighbor's murder. Were you home that afternoon? Do you have a security system?" Ebsa glanced up, didn't see the usual lens, just a hole in the wood. Drat.

  "Of course I do . . . what's in it for me?"

  Paer had crossed the street and come up behind him. "We pay for any private pictures or vid recordings that we show." She turned and summoned Koil with a wave. "Did you see anything? Could I interest you in an interview?"

  Faint choking noise from Koil. The light on her cam was green, and she was standing very still.

  "Me? On TV?" The door finally opened. "I didn't look at the recordings, after all it happened inside."

  "Of course, and probably your camera is aimed the wrong way to have seen anything."

  "Well . . . it's a little wobbly. I didn't like where the security company put it." The little old lady who stepped out onto the porch was short and round. She pointed at the bottom of her porch light. "See? From there you get a picture of the man's face that's standing at your door. When it was up there all you saw was the top of his head. What's the use of that?"

  Ebsa looked at it. Stepped under it and looked back, calculating the angle. One! It's very nearly perfect. "I'm surprised the police haven't talked to you."

  She sniffed. "Them? The high and mighty police? Talk to the likes of me? They took one look at the recordings and confisticated them. I ought to have looked at them sooner."

  "Con . . . Umm, I wonder if they deleted the recording . . . do you have off-site safety check? And recording?" Ebsa's heart sank. They beat us to them. And they were either evidence of Nighthawk's guilt, or they disappeared and were never shown in court.

  "Of course I've got computer surveillance. It's not like some burglar would give me the time to call the police! I went to look, and it was all gone!" She looked a little grumpy about it. No juicy gossip to impress her friends with.

  "Well, they thought it was pretty simple. Have you talked to your security company about their backups?"

  "What? Well! That never occurred to me."

  A snort from beyond the old woman. "Gramma barely knows how to turn her comp on."

  "Can too! It's turning it off where I have problems."

  A teenage sigh.

  "Oh do come in . . . " The old lady stepped aside. "I'm Miet Clostuone, this is my granddaughter Miwf. Miffy's a Withione!" Pride all over her voice and face.

  Miffy rolled her eyes. "You're all pretty young to be reporters."

  "We're students." Ebsa failed to mention what they were students of. "We're doing follow up reports on the murder. Extra credit if we get any footage that is actually broadcast."

  Paer nodded. "I wish we'd done this a week ago. We might have . . . gotten a scoop. Were you two home?"

  Rolled eyes. "Shopping. Again."

  Drat.

  But Azko was grinning. "My mom's terrible with her computer. I back everything up, myself, regularly."

  Miffy nodded. "You wouldn't believe some of the things Gramma accidentally deletes." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't remember if I . . . let me see . . . " she turned and disappeared.

  "Miffy's very smart!" Miet beamed. "Would you like some tea?"

  "Err . . ." Ebsa glance toward Koil to see if this was allowed, or worse, required.

  He was saved by Miffy skipping back into the room. "I did! I did include security as something to copy over." She waved a data card. "I just grabbed the feed for the whole day."

  A few taps on her computer, and they were looking at Miet's porch, in the twilight, just a faint shadowing from a streetlight. The date was right, and Miffy tapped and sped through the rest of the night. In the dawn light, they could see about half of Edge's porch, the short walkway an
d the sidewalk along the street.

  "We need to see the afternoon. Seventeen hundred, probably. That's just an estimate on our part. So maybe slow down before then."

  Miffy dropped to double speed as the time mark hit sixteen hundred.

  "Well honestly, I'd be just as glad to know there was nothing to see." The old lady peered at the screen. "There he is! Oh, dear! And that horrible woman!"

  Miffy slowed the record to normal.

  Ebsa gulped and kept his voice steady as he watched Nighthawk walking beside Edge. They were both still in their workout gear. Neither of them had stopped at their dorms to change. Edge was crowding her, and she looked annoyed. At one point she stepped into the street. Her mouth moved, Edge threw his head back and laughed.

  They turned up the walk to the porch. Nighthawk stood back as Edge opened the door. He waved her in. She shook her head and crossed her arms. They could see about half of Edge, straddling the threshold as he tossed a look up and down the street. Then he grabbed her elbow and pulled her through the door.

  The old woman sputtered indignantly. "That's not right! The news said she went inside of her own choosing. That's . . . "

  Nighthawk stalked out.

  "She certainly killed him in a hurry." The old woman's voice slowed, as Nighthawk sidestepped Wedge and City as they walked by.

  They walked up to the door, and half out of the camera coverage. They recoiled, looked back at Nighthawk.

  Wedge laughed. Something flew into the shot and hit him.

  "Edge threw that. He wasn't dead."

  "But, but . . . " the old woman looked horrified. "Do you mean that girl didn't kill him at all? That she was innocent? But, but . . . The police saw that."

  "Yes." Ebsa stared at the screen. "Everything she said, shows right there. Everything the Chief of Police said she confessed to . . . didn't happen at all."

  They took multiple copies. Koil had the woman's initial reactions, but interviewed her, increasingly teary, and angry. "How did that happen? How could that have happened?" Paer offered the old lady a cash card. It was refused. "No. I don't want anyone to say I was paid for anything, they'd say I lied for money. Well, well, I can tell you right now, Wrde's never going to get my vote again!"