by TR Cameron
The Professor chuckled. “Some mornings are like that. So, to business.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk, which was empty of anything other than his notebook, pen, and the tray with the decanter and glasses. “Did all the members of your team make it through okay? Any problems we need to deal with?”
Jax shook his head. “Everyone did great. It was almost textbook. Well, after the encounter with Lady Elle, anyway.”
This time it was a laugh. “Ah, Elle. I’m so glad the occasion worked out for you to meet her. She is truly one of a kind. A treasure.”
“You can say that again.” He paused, then shrugged mentally. He has to be aware of it already, right? “You know what she does on that planet, I assume?”
The other man nodded. “Oh, yes. She’s an excellent spy. Her means are widely varied, but always contain an element of vice. She was born to it. In another time, she’d be an empress.”
“Well, she kind of is one. Stepping into that casino is like entering a whole different world.”
“Indeed. She has done a wonderful job with it.”
Jax took another slow sip. “What’s the Academy’s interest?”
Maarsen shifted from conversational mode back to lecture mode, a switch only detectable in his eyes, which seemed to focus intensely on a vision only he could see. “We provided seed money for the enterprise. In return, we take a portion of the profits. But more importantly, Elle was a student, and she has unquestionably made the most of her learning. She leads a life she enjoys, and we are often the beneficiary of it.” Jax sensed the story included many more details than that, but the other man shifted topics abruptly. “So, clearly something of value was present. We were correct about that.”
“Definitely. Kimmel, Verrand, and Sirenno all agreed that the setup was for high-density data transfer into a wired courier and that such a thing would only be useful for the most sensitive information. Or criminals, but I imagine we’re crossing the possibility of the Confederacy engaging in black market activities off the list of likely occurrences.”
“The odds do seem to lend themselves to the first interpretation. So, with that in mind, we’ll need to come at this from another angle. It’s not likely that we’d be able to break into that facility again even if we had the proper equipment, correct?”
Jax nodded. “You never get two shots at something like that. There are probably four times as many murder bots by now, and a whole host of other added security measures. Might even be the case that they’ve upgraded the security in all the buildings that are part of whatever trouble they’re up to in that one.”
The Professor sighed. “It’s certainly not your team’s fault the effort failed. I have to say that I didn’t imagine the fallout would be quite so dramatic. I watched the security video. That was an impressive explosion.” He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “But all we can do is keep moving forward, correct?” He nodded as if answering his question. “Okay, Jackson, thanks for coming. Your time is your own for a bit while I work some things out. Stay ready, though. I’ll have something more for you to do before too long.”
He finished the whiskey in a gulp, surprised at the sudden dismissal. It burned warmly as he rose and shook Maarsen’s hand. “Good deal. See you soon.” An empty calendar? I have just the thing to fill it.
Jax casually strolled into the medical lab as if he followed a momentary whim, rather than something he’d been looking forward to for weeks. The place was busier than he’d seen it, with doctors and patients interacting in several locations, most of them involving some sort of equipment he wasn’t familiar with. He failed to detect his quarry, so he continued his stroll. Maintaining the illusion of random chance got more difficult as he moved farther into the space. Finally, he gave up on it and tapped a young woman staring at a display showing cellular activity on the shoulder. “Excuse me, where can I find Doctor Cray?”
She turned her head away from the screen and glared at him. “What do I look like, the peppy cruise director? The concierge? You were fooled by the blonde hair, right?”
He lifted his hands in defense. “Whoa, none of that, I’m sorry. You were the last person I saw in the room after walking through the rest. No offense intended. And the hair didn’t enter into it.”
She kept him pinned with her glare until a familiar voice sounded from behind him. “Try not to be upset, Hannah. He’s not much on social skills but does have some redeeming qualities. Not being drawn in by stereotypes is one of them, based on what I’ve seen so far.”
The younger woman grunted and returned her attention to her display, and he whispered, “Sorry again,” as he swiveled to take in the sight of Dr. Juno Cray. The grin leapt to his lips before he could stop it, and he was encouraged, even buoyed, to see a matching expression grace her face. “Hi, Doc.”
“Hi yourself, Captain. Is this a medical call?”
Jax shook his head. “Nope, purely social.”
Cray tilted her head toward the entrance. “Then let’s get out of the way so these people can work. Fancy a coffee?”
He laughed. “You’re speaking my native tongue, Doc.”
She led him through a door at the side of the lab that had blended so perfectly with the wall that he hadn’t noticed. Or maybe every time I’ve been in here, I’ve been distracted. It’s certainly possible. On the opposite side of the portal was a long hallway with doors on either side. It had the same modern, high-tech look as the lab itself, clearly not part of the original castle’s interior design. He imagined that rough stone walls hid behind the white surfaces. The past trapped by the future. Poetic. He laughed at himself, at the realization that his pleasure at seeing Juno bordered on giddiness. Yeah, I might be a little infatuated.
Her name was etched into a small piece of silver metal attached to one of the doors, but she ignored it and kept walking. The hallway turned at the end, opening into a medium-sized space. One wall was dedicated to refreshments, with snack bars in a woven basket on the counter next to a refrigerator. Another smaller cooler with a glass front displayed beverages, from soda to energy drinks. She headed directly for the complicated looking espresso machine, an authentic old-school model, the kind that had long since been generally replaced by synthetic versions.
He followed more slowly, taking in the rest of the room. Where the lab was sterile and functional, living things filled this chamber. Plants hung from the ceiling, were arranged on shelves in medium-sized pots, and stood in larger planters on the floor. Several small cubicle-like areas jutted from the wall opposite the entry, with displays mounted in each. A pair of green couches sat at right angles to one another in the center of the space, looking entirely comfortable. Between them rested a wooden coffee table, and a quartet of stuffed chairs completed the rectangle they’d started. The room was intended for comfort and relaxation or maybe given the cubicles, working in a different setting.
She asked over her shoulder, “Espresso straight?”
“Perfect.”
“Good deal. Have a seat. I’ll get these arranged; then you can ask me out properly.”
Chapter Twelve
Jax looked up as Juno turned toward him, a small white cup held in each hand. She’d selected a less noticeable lipstick than the first time he’d seen her, a deep scarlet that went well with her white skin and the straight dark hair that occasionally swayed across her chin when she moved. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement, probably at his expense, and her face was perfectly proportioned, at least in his opinion.
He’d chosen one of the stuffed chairs, not wanting to appear too bold, and she sat on the couch nearest it. She passed a cup to him and leaned back against the cushion, crossing her legs. Neither of them spoke for a moment, savoring the bitter brew’s taste, then she broke the ice. “So, you’re here for your second visit.”
Jax nodded. “I am. Second one. Back again. I seem to recall something important tied to that number.” He pretended to search his memory. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, b
ut I think it had to do with some rule of yours.”
Juno laughed softly and shook her head. “Smooth, Jackson, really smooth. Yes, well, that particular prohibition is no longer in place, since it’s not your first time at the Academy.”
“So, I guess the question now is whether I meet your standards for someone you might go out on a date with. I’m guessing they’re pretty high.” He stared woefully up at the ceiling to illustrate his view.
She nodded solemnly. “They are indeed. Tell me, why should I spend my precious few moments of free time with you, Captain Reese?” The grin that stretched her lips as his gaze was drawn back to them belied the formality of her words.
He pretended to consider it, with his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his palm. Finally, he said, “I’ve got nothing. Guess I’ll go.” He made as if to rise, and she laughed. “Okay, seriously though, I think that’s the reason. You seem to laugh a lot when I’m around.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps I’m laughing at, instead of laughing with.”
He shrugged and sipped the espresso. Damn, there’s something to be said for the old ways of doing things now and again. “Either way, as long as it’s making you happy, I’m good with it. Plus, you know, I am devilishly handsome. Any woman would be the envy of all her friends to be seen with me.”
Juno snorted. “First, I’m impressive enough on my own, thanks. Second, I don’t really have friends.”
He gestured with an open palm. “Well, there you go. I’m a great friend. Ask anyone. Wait, don’t ask Cia. Ask anyone else.”
She laughed again. “Okay, I’m sold. What’s your plan, Captain?”
“I’m pretty sure Maarsen will be sending me out again in short order, and I don’t want to have to stand you up for our first date. How about we agree that when I get back, that night we’ll go out? Until then, maybe we could meet for coffee now and again.”
“Smart thinking. I’ll need to add the caveat that I might have to be the one to stand you up if work calls.”
He nodded. “So it’s a deal?”
She grinned, leaned across, and touched his arm, sending a thrill of anticipation washing through him. Her eyes sparkled as she said, “It’s most definitely a deal.”
Jax kicked around for a few hours without a particular direction, wandering the exterior grounds and the interior corridors in search of some distraction. He didn’t find any, but enjoyed the time anyway, right up until the moment his wrist comm summoned him again. This time, though, it was to a location in the classroom wing of the building. He frowned at the sight and muttered, “This better not be more juggling,” then followed the map to the appointed destination.
It did indeed turn out to be an instructional space, but not the kind he was expecting. It held no chairs, no lab tables, no displays, or computers. Instead, it was a wide rectangle with sunlight filtering through the tall windows on the long stone wall opposite the door. On the right end were four identical armoires, each about eight feet high and carved meticulously enough that they were undoubtedly original furnishings of the castle. Target dummies for swords and martial arts held station at the other end.
Also notable were the two men standing off to the side, neither of whom he recognized. One was in the Academy’s standard staff uniform, a well-tailored suit in black with orange and yellow accents. He radiated health from his compact form, likely developed from decades of martial arts. The other was dressed as if he’d just arrived at the castle, in comfortable business-casual appropriate for traveling. His button-down shirt was dark blue with a hint of a white t-shirt at the collar, his trousers khaki, and his shoes a shade of brown that perfectly complemented the other two. Coordinating footwear was something Jax did only in service of an undercover assignment, and the man’s effort to do so spoke to serious attention to detail. The same quality was present in his precisely styled short brown hair, maintained eyebrows, and blemish-free face.
The uniformed man nodded. “Jackson, thank you for coming. I’m Harrington, weapons master here at the Academy. I’d like to introduce you to Kenton.” Jax shook hands with each in turn. “This is Kenton’s first day with us, and I thought you’d be a good match for a proficiency test.”
Jax frowned. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”
Harrington gestured at the armoires. “You have some experience with knives, I believe?” He nodded. “Excellent. Then knives it is.” He opened the doors wide, pulled out a drawer set in the bottom, and withdrew four blades. He handed two to each of them. Jax examined his, holding the edge up to the sunlight. While they were weighted as if they were authentic, they were dull, probably plastic, and clearly meant for training. He noted that the other man was doing the same thing, demonstrating that he had some experience with blades.
The weapons master withdrew a pair of padded jackets from the upper part of the wardrobe and handed them over. Jax shrugged into his, finding it comfortably tight and not too heavy. He’d trained in worse on any number of occasions. His opponent set his knives down on the floor and donned his with deliberate care, as if it were a dinner jacket. He retrieved his weapons as their instructor announced, “Torso only. Slashing and stabbing are both in bounds. No punches and no grappling, as the stone floor under your feet is rather unyielding. When it meets bone, bone loses. Begin when you’re ready.”
Jax and Kenton both chuckled at his words and began to circle slowly. Jax rolled his wrists, loosening them up for the contest to come. The other man stretched his neck, which cracked with a loud snap that bounced around the room before fading away. Jax positioned his left knife with the point forward and the cutting edge down, and his right reversed along his forearm with the sharp side facing out. He kept his gaze locked on his foe’s eyes, watching for something that would give him a clue to the man.
When his opponent copied his positioning with familiar ease, Jax knew he’d been trained by the military. When he shuttled forward, slightly off-balance, Jax decided Kenton’s lessons had stopped after basic. His experience was rather more extensive, both in the classroom and in the field. Careful, Jackson. He could be hiding something, or he could have tricks you’ve never seen. Don’t get cocky. His foe led with a slash from his right blade. Jax stepped back out of range, then pivoted to stab at the triceps of the attacking arm with his left knife.
His rival spun out of the way. It wasn’t a move Jax would have chosen, but in this particular case, when exposing the back of the head was safe, it proved effective. He circled with rapid sidesteps, forcing his opponent to keep turning with him, and saw several moments where a quick kick or a bull rush could have ended the contest. Then his foe rallied and darted in with a flurry of stabs and slashes that Jax was hard-pressed to defend against, given the limitations the instructor had set. He had put himself into position to counter when the weapons master yelled, “Hold.”
Jax and his opponent dropped their arms and retreated out of range. Harrington stepped between them, nodding. “Well done, both of you. I’ll take your weapons back. Our session is finished, but you’re both expected in the Professor’s office in,” he checked his comm, “exactly thirty-nine minutes. I’m sure you’ll get your notifications shortly. And, just a suggestion, you might want to shower beforehand.”
He hadn’t realized how much he’d been sweating and laughed as he unzipped the padded jacket. “No question about that.” He traded grips with the other man. “Good to meet you, Kenton. Guess I’ll see you in about thirty-eight minutes.”
“Until then.” He offered an easy grin, then headed for the door, peering at his wrist comm, probably for directions. Jax turned to the weapons master.
“Want to give me a clue as to what that was about?”
The other man grinned. “Nope. Maarsen’s prerogative to share or not.”
Jax sighed. “Naturally.” He nodded respectfully before departing, already anticipating the pleasure of the hot water in his quarters’ shower.
At least this time there was no pre-meeting
, Jax thought as he walked through the Professor’s office door on Kenton’s heels. He headed for the left-hand chair, only for the other man to do the same. Jax solved the conflict by surrendering the field, such as it was, and chose the one on the right instead. Closer to the whiskey.
Behind his uncluttered desk, Maarsen smiled at them. “Welcome, gentlemen. Harrington told me you performed quite well at your initial meeting.”
Kenton asked the question that was also at the top of Jax’s mind. “What was that all about, anyway?”
The Professor grinned. “As with most of what we do here at the Azophi Academy, it has different purposes for different people. For you, Kenton, it was about assessing whether your statement about one of your abilities was accurate, or whether you were over or understating the situation. Obviously, it is in our best interests as educators to know if a given student is too humble, or a braggart, or has adequate self-knowledge.”
He frowned. “And what was the result?”
For a second, Jax thought Maarsen would let him twist, but then he answered. “You did indeed accurately assess your abilities in that form of combat.” Kenton nodded, looking satisfied.
The Professor turned to face him. “And for you, Jackson, it was a chance for you to meet someone you’re going to need to rely on in the near future.”
Jax kept his scowl hidden and managed to maintain a neutral tone. “Oh really? How so?”
Maarsen said, “Kenton, tell Jackson a little about what you do.”
The other man shrugged. “I started out in the UCCA military, medical division. Took a liking to it, but didn’t want to go the whole doctor route, so now I’m a bioengineer for,” he paused, then continued, “a big company. I do all sorts of things for them, but my main area right now is in human cybertech.”
Jax asked, “Like prosthetics and such?” That would make sense. Maybe he’s here to help me tune up my arm.