Mage Hunter (Lost Tales of Power Book 8)

by Vincent Trigili

  I could feel warmth coming from it just as it had the first time. I took her hand in both of mine and kissed it. Her skin was soft and warm as it touched my lips. Warmth flowed through me from the contact, a feeling that never palled. “I could never forget you,” I whispered.

  20

  02-27-0065 — Lyshell

  “Ly, please come quickly. I think they’re after me,” said Joan over datanet communications network.

  “Who? Where are you?” I asked.

  “I’ll explain when I see you,” she said.

  “Where?” I asked again.

  “The Pelican on Rizdale 7.”

  “That is a good week from where I am. Can you stay hidden that long?” I asked. That was a lie; I was only a few days away, but I wanted time to check the meeting point before joining her.

  “A week? Are you sure? Can you get here sooner?”

  “I don’t think so, but if something works out I’ll contact you. Until then, lie low.” I still didn’t know what our relationship was. I felt I could trust her, but there were too many red flags surrounding her to be sure. For one thing, she seemed very resourceful for someone who had been out of work and blacklisted for the past few weeks. A normal citizen couldn’t afford to book travel out so far even if they saved for several months, and here she was unemployed and traveling around the Empire.

  “Okay, I’ll wait till I hear from you,” she said.

  “In a week, then,” I said.

  “Ly, please be careful,” she said.

  “You know, it would be easier if I had something besides vague statements from you. Tell me what to watch out for, at least.”

  There was a long silence, then she said, “I can’t say any more on an open line. Just be careful and stay hidden.”

  There was no way she could be a nurse and nothing else; she sounded more like an experienced agent. Warning bells continued to sound throughout my systems, but I still felt I could trust her. Something deep inside me, deeper even than my implants could reach, wanted to trust her and go to her, but I could find no explanation for that feeling.

  “Fine, but I expect a good explanation when I see you,” I said.

  “In a week or sooner,” she said and signed off.

  What was I in for this time? It was less than a week since I’d converted as much of my funds as I felt I could safely use into hard currency. I’d sent a message back to Command, telling them I’d found a lead and was going undercover for a bit. I’d added that I would report back when I was ready to come out, but until then I was going silent until I had something or had exhausted the lead.

  I was traveling under a brand-new pseudonym using recently-created fake credentials that should be clean. They couldn’t watch for it, even if they knew I had left the planet. I had even paid for my room for another two weeks to slow suspicion. I should still be in the clear.

  Yet Joan had contacted me just as I was about to hop on a transport out of the sector and into non-Imperial space. The timing was suspicious, but if she really was in trouble I had to help her.

  Whoever she was, she and I had a past together; that much was certain. She must have answers for me, and this might be my only chance to get them.

  It took only three days to reach The Pelican, but I didn’t contact her upon arrival. Instead, I watched the place for several days until I was sure there were no agents there looking for me. When I felt I had stalled as much as I could, I contacted Joan.

  “Hey, I’m here,” I said.

  “About time,” she replied.

  “When can you get here?”

  “I’m on my way now. Hang tight.”

  A waitress came by, and I placed a dinner order for two. This place was familiar to me, though my memory logs had no record of my ever having been here. The food arrived moments before Joan did.

  She walked up to the table without hesitation and said, “You remembered!”

  “I did?” I said.

  She sat opposite me and took a bite. “Oh, this is good; exactly as I remember it.”

  “Joan, how do you know me? And how did you recognize me just now?” I asked.

  She sipped her wine with closed eyes. She seemed to savor it but she did not answer me.

  I kept telling myself that I could trust her, and I wanted to believe myself. Something told me she was on my side, yet every logical indication was that she was hiding something; she knew far too much.

  She sighed softly. “Oh, Ly, I can’t do this anymore. We need to get out.”

  “We? Do what?”

  She pulled out a datapad and placed it on the table in front of me. Displayed on the screen was my entire travel log from the day I left the capital planet. It was a detailed hour-by-hour report of my location, movements and conversations.

  “I’m your recovery officer,” she said.

  “What is that?” I asked, though I thought I knew the answer.

  “You’re a highly-classified project, an attempt to build a technological counter to magi. You volunteered for this program what seems like a lifetime ago, and I was chosen to be your ‘friend’ throughout it.”

  “What does that involve?” I asked.

  “Each time technology advanced, they wanted to test the implants with a fresh start, so your memory was wiped whenever you were upgraded. My job was to watch you, and bring you back in if you ever decided to run.”

  “So I’m not free to leave?”

  “You know you’re not; that’s why you converted so much capital to hard currency and tried to disappear. At this point, most of your body is classified equipment.”

  I leaned back in my chair and tried to make sense of what she was saying. The lie detection algorithms in my central processing bank were telling me that she was being completely honest with a ninety-seven percent certainty.

  “How many times have you recovered me?” I asked.

  “At least five,” she said.

  “At least?” I queried.

  “I had to be recovered a few times myself,” she said with a smile. “We have tried running away at least twice that I know of.”

  Gesturing at the datapad, I said, “With that kind of tracking, it seems impossible.”

  She nodded. “We tried jamming the tracking signal once, you tried cutting it out at least twice, and one time we tried turning you off and shipping you as cargo.”

  “Is there any way out, then?” I asked.

  “That investigative reporter is one way.” A look of disgust passed over her face as she mentioned the woman.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the program is legal and you did volunteer for it, but chances are good that if the program was leaked to the press … ”

  She trailed off, but her meaning was clear: there would be an uproar, and the program would have to be shut down. I decided I didn’t want to cause any kind of uprising.

  “What if I return willingly? Do they really have to wipe my memory then?” I asked.

  “You have asked that every time. You say you’re willing to continue the program, but would like to keep your memory; they tell you that’s impossible, and you eventually agree to it.”

  “Really?” I said, but I knew she was right and that I would probably do it again. This life was all I knew, and leaving it did not seem attractive.

  She drank some more of her wine, seeming to savor every drop. “You bought me this the last time we were here. I haven’t allowed myself a drop of it since.”

  “And you, Joan? Why do you continue?” I asked.

  “Someone has to be your recovery officer,” she said with a shrug.

  “Is that it, then? We have this last meal and fly back to the capital?” I asked. I felt sure there was more to her motivation than she admitted.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said.

  “But you just said there was no way out,” I said.

  “No, I didn’t. I said that the ways we’ve tried before have failed.”

  “If we tried
to get away and failed, why would I agree to stay in the program?”

  “Because if you don’t, they still wipe your memory and they also remove those fancy implants.”

  “Ah, I see,” I said with a shudder. That would leave me a cripple, even if they replaced them with more standard implants. I was virtually a superhero as I was; becoming normal would be like cutting off my legs.

  “Then what can we do?” I asked.

  She looked up with a big smile. “Call Grandmaster Vydor, accept his offer and take me with you.”

  Instinctively my hand went to my pocket, and I felt the clear ball that he had given me. I had carried it with me all this time but had almost forgotten about it. In a moment of decisiveness, before I could overthink the matter, I squeezed the ball between my fingers and felt it pop. A strange sensation accompanied the pop, like a wave of cold passing up my arm and through my body, which passed as quickly as it came.

  “Why do you think that will work?” The ball was completely gone; I couldn’t even feel any dust. I could only assume it had worked.

  “Because if Grandmaster Vydor invited you to his kingdom, you’re a mage. If you’re a mage, then by treaty you belong to him rather than the Empire.”

  “Belong? I don’t much like the sound of that,” I said.

  She shrugged. “It’s that or return for another memory wipe and we’ll have this conversation again in a few years, except that the offer from Grandmaster Vydor might not be there because you won’t remember getting it.”

  21

  03-05-0065 — Lyshell

  “That will not be a problem,” came a deep voice.

  Engage combat level two.

  In a flash I was on my feet. I spun to face a tall, broad-shouldered, older human, visible only to my one organic eye. A mage! In an instant I searched the Imperial database and came back with a positive identification.

  “Hello, Master Mathorn.” Mathorn, one of the most powerful wizards in the realm, advisor to Grandmaster Vydor himself. An army of Lyshells wouldn’t be sufficient to counter him.

  He smiled. “Please sit down.”

  Engage duty mode.

  I relaxed into my seat and Joan did likewise, having jumped to her feet with impressive speed and grace. It was unlikely that a high-ranking official of the Wizard Kingdom was here to cause trouble.

  When we were all seated, Joan looked at me and said, “So you already made contact?”

  “Yes, he did,” said Mathorn, waving a waitress over to order dinner. “And we were happy to get the message. I do not believe we have met.”

  “I’m sorry, this is my … friend, Joan,” I said, unsure how to refer to her. “She was trying to convince me that Grandmaster Vydor’s offer was serious and that I should take him up on it.”

  “You thought he was jesting?” he said.

  “Well, no, more of… it seemed like a… well, okay; I guess I’m just having a hard time accepting I’m a mage.”

  He smiled. “Good. An honest answer, at least.” He turned and faced Joan. “I believe we owe you our gratitude.”

  “Please take me with you,” she blurted out.

  He raised an eyebrow and didn’t respond.

  “Please!” she said again. “I can’t go back.”

  “It seems there is a story here that I ought to hear,” he said.

  We were interrupted by the waitress bringing his meal. When he’d been served, he turned to us and waited for the story. I related everything she had told me.

  He nodded thoughtfully. “If we take Lyshell, what will happen to you?”

  “I’m as much part of the program as he is, so my options are the same,” she said.

  “Are you enhanced too?” I asked.

  “Not as much as you are; just enough to catch you, really,” she said.

  Mathorn sat back and folded his hands. “I can guarantee that Lyshell will be brought to the Wizard Kingdom with his memory intact. You, on the other hand, are a mundane.”

  “Before all this I was a nurse; surely you have a place for me?”

  He nodded. “Nurses are always in demand.”

  “What are your thoughts about bringing her?” I heard Mathorn say in my head. The question did not come over datanet, nor through any other means of communication I had experienced before, and I didn’t know how to respond.

  Joan nervously picked at her food in silence. I could read the fear on her face. She really didn’t want to face going back without me.

  I knew I had to answer him somehow, but since I didn’t know how he got the message in my head to begin with I had no idea how to reply. Message in my head! He was a mage, and apparently so was I. This must be telepathy.

  A quick search of my records told me that magi mentally projected their thoughts in order to communicate. I gave it a shot by focusing my mind on him and projecting my thoughts. “If possible, I would like to save her from that fate. She risked a lot to remind me of Grandmaster Vydor’s summons.”

  “Excellent!” he sent back. It was almost a natural feeling, like getting a message via datanet. “When you’re trained, that is how you will communicate, but at the moment it will work only when another magus initiates the conversation.”

  “So I really am a mage?”

  He smiled and winked, then turned to Joan. “Travel with Lyshell back to the capital, and I hope to have an answer for you by the time you arrive.”

  “Back to the capital?” I asked.

  “Yes, that is the closest gate from here,” he said.

  “Can’t you just open a gate and take us from here?” I asked.

  “No,” he replied.

  “But then how did you get here?” asked Joan.

  He smiled. “I can weave walk and cross any distance, but I cannot take you with me. You will have to fly there by mundane means. Besides, that will give me time to work on Joan’s case.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help her case?” I asked. I felt I should try to assist her; she had risked a lot to help me.

  “Not really. It will come down to a conversation between the Emperor and Grandmaster Vydor. I will make him aware of the situation, and I am sure he will ask. What happens after that is out of my hands.”

  We ate for a few moments in silence as I thought about what all this could mean. I would be starting over in a new life, so in that respect it wasn’t much different from reassignment.

  “Ly, if we go back to the capital, what’s to stop them taking us in before the wizards can rescue us?” asked Joan across datanet. She’d said she had some enhancements; apparently one of those was a comm. system like my own.

  “How will I find you when I get to the capital planet?” I asked.

  “A good question!” said Mathorn as he felt around in his cloak. He pulled out a small box containing two rings. “Here, put these on.”

  I took one of the rings and rolled it between my fingers. It seemed like an ordinary gold band, the kind a married man might wear. I tried it on my left ring finger. As I slid the ring on, it changed size to fit perfectly.

  “Those rings will stay on unless you will them off,” noted Mathorn.

  “Or someone cuts off my hand,” I said.

  “True, but please, if that happens, at least retrieve the ring,” said Mathorn.

  I looked up and saw a slight smile on his lips.

  Joan had also slipped her ring on the third finger of her left hand. “A perfect fit.”

  “Yes, remarkable,” I said.

  “Those rings will allow me to track you, no matter where you go. They will also mark you, so that any magus whom you meet will know you are one of us. When you arrive on the capital planet, go back to your apartment and wait for further directions.”

  “If my old commander, or Joan’s, tries to order us to do something, then what?” I asked.

  “Lyshell, you are under no one’s authority except Grandmaster Vydor’s; the treaty guarantees that. So follow my orders and do not worry about anyone else.”

&nb
sp; “What about me?” asked Joan.

  “I will contact you. Until then, if you receive orders, tell them you are working with Lyshell. That may delay things until I receive an answer.” He stood up, dropped some credits on the table and said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go back and set these things in motion.”

  I stood up to see him off, but he was already gone. I sat down again and looked at Joan. “Now what?”

  “Good question. I think the next step is to order me another glass of wine,” she said.

  I motioned to the server, indicating her glass, and turned back to her. “It’ll take a week or a little longer to get back. We’ll use that time to prepare.”

  “How?” she asked.

  Before answering I started to download every legal case involving the treaty between the Empire and the Wizard Kingdom. I also took copies of the treaty and many legal texts about contracts and government operatives.

  When that was set up, I smiled. “First, we’re going to prepare a nice report for your reporter friend to use in case we need a fallback position —”

  “No, we can’t.” she interrupted.

  “Don’t worry, it will just be a bluff.”

  “You can’t bluff them; they’ll know everything you do,” she said. Then she noticed that the datapad had apparently stopped recording me. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. What’s the last entry?”

  She picked it up and examined it. “Putting on the ring.” She tapped on the pad and then gasped. “It says, Access Denied: Agent Lyshell has been reassigned to duty in the Wizard Kingdom.”

  I smiled. “Of course.” Things started clicking into place in my mind.

  “Wait, what?” she asked.

  “I’m hard-wired to obey my chain of command. That’s why I came here at your request. That’s why I came back every time, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she said without meeting my eyes.

  “And what is my chain of command now?” I asked.

  Her head snapped up. “According to the treaty, you report to the Council of Wizards!”

  I nodded.

  “You’re already free, then!” she said.