Chapter 5

Kaista, 13 Oraa, 4392, Orthodox Calendar
Friday, 1 July 2007, Native Regional Reckoning
New Orleans, Gamia Province, American Sector

Life had definitely become weird, and finals had very little to do with it.

Monday was the start of finals, finals which had had the entire campus in a frenzy of activity. This most-elite of all native educational institutions had gone into an uproar of intense driving, as instructors worked hard to prepare their students for finals, as school officials and administrators rode the teachers, as the Zarina of New Orleans rode the administrators, as the Olena of southeastern Louisiana rode the Zarina, and the Baron of North America rode the Olena. Everyone on campus from students up were short-tempered and almost obsessed with the final exams, so much so that both the regular Army and the Marines had placed extra patrols on campus to keep the tension from exploding into fights.

Jason had his own tension and anxiety as well, but for him, finals was only a small part of it. The core of his tension laid mainly in Jyslin. Though he did truly like her, his moral and philosophical beliefs were more and more causing some friction between them, though it wasn’t anything so huge that they decided to quit one another.

Truth be told, Jason had become quite amicable to their relationship. He liked Jyslin, and he was strongly attracted to her, and she had been true to her promise to back off, to treat him like a friend and not a love interest. Under those conditions, he was able to at least partially justify in his own mind being around her, and they’d had a pretty good time. She continued to train him in telepathy, which was the primary focus for both of them. She wanted him not just competent, but quite skilled with his power by the end of July, when she’d have absolutely no qualms about him operating around Faey without worrying. He agreed with her and worked very, very hard to train himself, often at the expense of his schoolwork, though his average never dropped below 94. When not training in telepathy, they had a pretty good time. He started teaching her Aikido and started working out with her, they would watch movies or play bridge or just pal around with Tim and Symone when all four had free time. Every Sunday, they all piled into his airskimmer and they went somewhere. They’d been to the beach, to the Andes for some summer (winter down there) skiing, and had gone on a guided car-safari in Africa. Jyslin seemed to have no problems befriending Tim and Symone, and for her part, Symone warmed up considerably towards Jyslin over the weeks. Obviously, Symone had gotten more comfortable with the Marine.

But there were fights, and some of them got passionate. Most of them revolved around Jason’s lack of interest in trying to get placed into Black Ops (where most weapons and top-secret military systems were designed) or R&D (where everything was designed). Jyslin seemed totally incapable of fathoming that doing so was going against the fundamental bedrock of his personality and moral standing, for he had vowed that he would never help the Faey by designing, building, or maintaining anything that would help them continue to keep their hold over Terra or allow them to conquer another planet. Jason still had every intention of washing out next semester and getting a job as a systems technician, maintaining generic Faey technology on Earth, but nothing sensitive or military in nature. Despite two months of being together, Jyslin still could not understand the intense hatred he had of the Faey and what they had done to his world. It was almost like she refused to see the forest for the trees, because she seemed to think that if he could accept her and Symone, then he should be able to accept any other part of Faey government, society, or culture, at least after he got enough exposure to it. She kept trying to bring him into her world, and every time she did so, he set his heels in and absolutely would not budge. She became aggravated that he had no trouble bringing her into his world, but would not even for a moment come into hers.

The only ground he’d given over that was to meet Jyslin’s aunt, Lorna. Lorna was a general in the Royal Marines, who worked in their command center in Washington, the Pentagon. The Faey had taken a liking to the building after the dissolution of the American military, and had annexed it for their own use. Lorna was much as Jyslin described, a blunt, straight-talking woman with a broken nose, a scar on her chin, a cybernetic left eye, and a very direct demeanor. They’d met over dinner about a week ago, when Lorna came down to visit her niece, and Jason had to admit that he did rather like her.

Right now, he and Jyslin were in a “cool-off” phase, for they’d had another fight last night when he refused to attend a barbecue that her squad was giving in Audobon park on Sunday. Every month, Jyslin’s squad got together for a social occasion, which included the staff officers that didn’t always mingle with the enlisted. It helped maintain unity within the squad. Lately, the squads had started playing baseball on Saturdays, when schedules allowed, and Jyslin’s squad was currently 3-1 in intersquad scrimmages. Faey seemed have a curious like of the sports of baseball, soccer, football, and basketball, and it wasn’t odd to see off-duty Faey walking down the streets or in malls with New Orleans Saints tee shirts or hats. Much to Jason’s surprise, he’d even seen a professional baseball game televised on ISN, the Imperial Sports Network, the Faey Imperium’s version of ESPN. That game had high ratings, where the Boston Red Sox crushed the New York Yankees, 7-2. Granted, it was at four in the morning by Imperial Standard Time, the time by which the Imperium operated, but given that every world had its own time, but every retranmission station delayed programming to coincide as closely as possible with IST. It was virtually impossible on some worlds, though. IST consisted of a 30 hour day, a 10 day week, and a 30 day month. Local time was impossible to corrolate to that because of the 24 hour day. Generally, they let the programming slide for a couple of weeks, then edited a block of programming to resynch local programming with IST. The only stations that didn’t adhere to IST were INN and a couple of entertainment networks.

Thing on other fronts were going rather well. Jason had scrapped his project idea, and instead had built a panel “remote keyboard,” which was basicly just a stand-alone holographic keyboard that linked back to the main panel. It included a redirector to allow the panel to send its video display to another monitor, allowing someone to sit in a chair and use a standard television as the display, while the panel sat on a table across the room. One couldn’t use the touch features of a panel’s standard display, but it was useful for just writing out reports and such. Jason had built it in about three days, getting his hands on a broken panel’s holographic emitter and the keyboard programming, then adding in a few simple programs to allow the hardware to receive panel video information and relay it to a remote receiver. He bought the remote receiver from a mail-order company on Arcturus IV. All in all, his project cost him about 74 credits to build, and it worked.

Not that he needed money. He’d received his first royalty payment for the hypersonic communicators, which were based on his design idea, and it had been quite shocking. That first monthly payment was C67,289.18443. Decimals beyond two places weren’t often used with credits, but when it came to royalties, where he had a percentage, they were kept in to keep the books straight. That was 67,000 or so credits for one month. And he’d receive a royalty check every month, his cut for every unit that was produced. He had yet to start getting royalties for the larva killer device, because they’d had a production glitch and had had to push back the schedule. They even sent him an email to tell him that, keeping him informed on what was going on. He appreciated that.

Now those things, he didn’t mind being paid for. They were non-military, and in the case of the larva killer, they actually helped people. He liked the idea that someone had taken something he thought up and had adapted it so it was being used to help keep people from getting sick. That was probably the only reason he ever thought to spend any of that money, instead of just transferring it into hard currency and throwing it off the Huey Long Bridge. Jason had no beef with the people in the Imperium per se, as long as they didn’t represent the system. He had no problems with them using his ideas to help make life better for his fellow oppressed citizens... even if it was an arm of the government that was doing it. In that way, and that way only, he was able to bend his moral position, because his ideas were serving a greater good. The government was just a messenger, and in this case, he wasn’t going to shoot the messenger.

There was one thing military he had going on, and that was the rail gun. It was already built, sitting on a rack on the wall over his desk, sitting there taunting him a little bit. The gun was assembled, but so far, he’d had no luck with it. The technical specs were good, and the weapon had been built correctly, but his problem laid in the software. Jason wasn’t that bad using TEL, Trinary Encoded Language, the standard programming language of most non-military Faey devices, but he was having a devil of a time trying to get everything just so. So far, the weapon had remained inoperable because of a software-hardware conflict, and he just hadn’t had the time to iron it out. Every time he loaded the new code for it, the weapon would go into emergency shutdown mode either as soon as he tried to bring up the processor, after he loaded a round in the chamber, or after he disengaged safety and went hot. He hadn’t even got to where he could fire the weapon yet. It wasn’t like he was really all that worried about it... after all, he was only building it to see if he could. And with everything else going on, it wasn’t like he had all that much time to play with it.

It had certainly driven Ailan absolutely wild with curiosity when he asked to use the replicator, then was very secretive about what he was doing. Ailan kept a very close eye on the things his star pupil did, wondering what new idea Jason would come up with next, and actually wanting to get into the design of it a little bit. Ailan had the soul of an engineer, always wanting to tinker or experiment, and had actually done some pretty clever things with the subsonic inducer that Jason had given him.

“You know, I think I’ve figured out how you think this stuff up,” Ailan had confided last week, as they went over his project after Jason brought it in to show him, his one and only chance to have the instructor check his project. “You come into this with absolutely no pre-conceived notions. You have a fresh outlook on things, you know? I almost envy you for that, you know.”

“All you have to do is open your eyes and look at things, Ailan,” Jason chuckled.

“Yes, but you see, I have years of training jading my point of view,” he answered. “You don’t. You look at something and see something I never considered, because your lack of training lets you approach it from an angle I wouldn’t consider.”

“You might be right,” Jason had acceded.

That was a pretty interesting point, Jason had to agree. Jason didn’t come into this thinking in only one manner, because it was all so new to him. He saw something and immediately his mind started thinking of how it could be used, without knowing what it really could be used for. That let him see a way to use something that Ailan might not, because he’d discount that to be used in that manner, or ignore it because something else also did that.

The railgun was a perfect example of that. No Faey would think of something like that, because it seemed primitive in the age of energy weapons. But in its own way, Jason’s railgun was the equal of any MPAC in production, it just worked in a different way. If he could ever get the damn thing to work, anyway.

Caffeine. He needed caffeine. Jason backed his chair away from the desk, where a five line calculus problem harangued him from the display on his panel, then scrubbed his face with his hands and lightly slapped his cheeks. It was four in the morning, but he’d been up since two, unable to sleep. He had no classes today; in fact, he had no classes until Monday, when their finals began. All week he’d only had one scheduled class, his project turn in with Ailan. All other classes were cancelled, but the teachers remained in their classrooms during the normal class hours to answer questions or tutor any student who wanted help. Despite no classes on the schedule, almost every student had been on campus every day all week, studying in class to ask questions, studying in the library, on the green, in the halls of the Plaid, out in Audobon park, virtually everywhere. The campus had been quiet, subdued, and not a little tense since last Monday.

Everyone was anxious to get it overwith. There would be a three week holiday between semesters, and everyone was looking forward to some major decompression. The school wasn’t letting everyone just run off, however, nor let them just do nothing but drink beer for three weeks and come back to school trashed. For one, they were being very stingy with travel permits for students, but were much more lenient with granting permits for relatives to come visit them. They were also offering several holidary trips to students, field trips to let them see Faey technology in action, and many of them had filled up with volunteers. The most popular trip without a doubt was the one up to a Faey battle cruiser, giving the students the opportunity to tour a military starship. They’d had so many sign up for it that they were going to have to use three shuttles to get them all up to the ship. In addition to the voluntary trips, everyone had a mandatory physical they had to take during the holiday, and everyone also had to attend a mandatory job fair of sorts on campus the week before the next semester, so they could get an idea of the many different professions from which they had to choose, and start working towards trying to qualify for one. They had one every semester, but they all had to go anyway, if only to get updated information about certain choice job fields. Jason felt it was stupid, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to do anything about it.

Ailan had bugged him for days about getting on with the ship tour, but Jason had just blown him off, then stated in a casual manner that if he wanted to go visit a starship, he’d just fly up to one. He’d been on one before, after all, even though he’d never gotten out of his skimmer. Ailan had just laughed and admitted that he forgot that Jason had gotten a pilot’s license, and happened to own his own airskimmer.

He’d used his money in other ways as well. For one, there was a beat-up old Toyota Corolla sitting out in the student parking lot. It looked like it was about to fall apart, a ratty old rust-colored sedan whose paint color concealed the rust all over the chassis rather well, but Jason wasn’t about to flaunt his financial independence on campus. Despite its outward appearance, the car ran well, was very dependable, and it got him to and from Bell Chasse and his airskimmer quite well. Tim had keys for it as well, and they tended to share it, because he went out with Symone so much and it was often hard for her to come get him every time. So he just took the car and went to meet her, with Jason’s blessing.

Standing up, Jason opened the small refrigerator crammed up against the side of his bed and grabbed a new soda, then drank about half of it in a single draw. Calculus was kicking his ass, as usual, because the Faey concept of calculus would make Einstein’s brain melt. But it was absolutely critical for Faey engineering, for metaphased plasma required massive numbers of variables to be taken into account to mathematically predict the behavior of metaphased plasma in real time. Even though the computers handled those calculations in operating equipment, an engineer had to be capable of the math to deal with some problems, as well as design. So any engineer worth his hair had to be able to handle equations with large numbers of variables. Calculus was, after all, a math that dealt with changes in real time, but the kicker was that these equations dealt with a substance that operated in multiple states of reality, each of which caused changes to every other variable when they changed, including a change to itself. An infentismal shift in one variable altered every other variable and totally rewrote the entire equation. It was almost maddening. Jason couldn’t believe that there were any sane Faey engineers left.

His panel beeped that an incoming call was waiting, so he sat back down and punched it up. Tim’s face appeared in the display, his hair a mess and a paper towel to his nose. His nose was bleeding. “I figured you’d be up. Still studying?”

“I slept a bit and got up early. Gone to bed yet?”

“Naw,” he answered. “I’m about to though, when this nosebleed stops.”

“What happened?”

“I dunno. I just rubbed my nose, and it started bleeding. Guess I hit it just right. What you studying?”

“Calculus.”

Tim winced. “You’re braver than I am. I think I’ll invent some numbers on the spot and put them on the test. Maybe I can get some points for originality.” Jason laughed. “Symone wanted to know if you’re free next Saturday for a trip. She saw a TV show about Yellowstone, and now she wants to go.”

“Any place cooler than here would make me very happy,” he sighed, looking at the heavy condensation on his window. His room was about 65 degrees, and it was about 85 outside, which caused his window to be totally covered in dew. Jason and some of the other people on his floor had something of an ongoing war about the thermostat, because it controlled the temperature on the whole floor. But it had been upwards of 105 during the day with heat indexes of 115, a heat wave even for New Orleans, so they hadn’t complained too much lately when Jason turned it down. They’d come to realize that if they let it get really cool in the rooms at night, it didn’t get too hot once the doors started to fan and let that blistering heat inside during the day. “It was nice to be out in the snow again, when we went to Argentina.”

“I thought Jyslin was going to kill you,” Tim laughed. “She’s a good skiier, though, I’ll give her that.”

“She spent her teen years on an arctic planet. There wasn’t much more to do than ski,” Jason chuckled. “That’s why she hates the cold.”

“So, you’re in for Yellowstone?”

“Yeah, but I’m not paying the parking fees this time,” he warned. “If Symone wants to go, fine, I’ll take her. But she’s responsible for paying to park the skimmer.”

“I’ll warn her,” he said with a grin. “How much do they usually run?”

“Depends on the airfield, but usually no more than 30 credits. Oh, have her check and see if there’s skimmer parking in the park itself. It might be more expensive, but it saves us from having to get a cab or take the airbikes.”

“I’ll tell her. Well, think this nosebleed’s about over, so I’m going to bed. See you in class tomorrow.”

“Don’t oversleep.”

“You won’t let me,” he said, then ended the call.

Jason blew out his breath as his calculus problem returned to the screen. He couldn’t evade it anymore; it was time to get back to work.


Koira, 18 Oraa, 4392, Orthodox Calendar
Wednesday, 6 July 2007, Native Regional Reckoning
New Orleans, Gamia Province, American Sector

It. Was. Over.

Jason came out of Calculus feeling a bit dizzy. That was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the hardest test he had ever, ever, taken. One of the questions had 32 independent variables, and took almost a three pages of scribbling to solve. It was the first non-literature course he had ever taken where the number of pages it took to complete the test exceeded the number of questions it contained.

But, they certainly saved the worst test for last, because that was it. He’d taken all the other tests already, and he was done for the semester. Outside of a physical and the job fair, his time was now exclusively his own until August. He intended to spend that time not training with Jyslin either in air conditioning or over at the indoor pool.

Well, and finish the railgun. That little project could now have his undivided attention.

He just felt so, so free. He didn’t have to get up, he didn’t have any homework, he didn’t have any tests, all he had was free time. Glorious, wonderful, beloved free time.

He did need to decompress. He felt like someone had just pulled his brain out of his nose with a pair of salad spoons. He didn’t want to do anything even remotely resembling rational thought. Problem was, Tim still had 2 more finals to take, so he couldn’t really go celebrate with him. Jyslin and Symone were on duty, and he didn’t really socialize with anyone outside of them. Jason was an exceedingly private person, and was slow to make new friends. Besides, he’d been too busy to do much socializing.

Without much to do, he dropped his stuff off at his room, then caught a streetcar down to the French Quarter. He went to his favorite bar, Patty O’s, and sat out in the courtyard sipping on a daquiri while listening to jazz music piped in over the bar’s audio system. It was exactly what he needed. It was the middle of the day, the place wasn’t busy, and it was the perfect place to sit and just unwind after two weeks of hell.

For over an hour, he just sat there nursing his single daquiri, then sighed and leaned forward in his chair. He couldn’t stay idle for long, so he started scribbling some lines of code on a napkin to try to get around the hardware conflict preventing the railgun from working. He went through about four napkins before a shadow blocked the light, and he looked up.

He’d never seen this Faey before. She was very tall, one of the tallest Faey he’d ever seen, with translucent green hair that was long and very straight, tied behind her head in a tail. Unruly bangs hung over her violet eyes, waving every time she moved, and her face and body alike were very narrow. She wore a uniform he’d never seen before, a charcoal gray uniform with a light jacket over a black shirt, and a knee-length skirt. She was carrying a black attachè case. He’d become somewhat familiar with Faey military rank, and the silver diamond insignia with a bar under it on her collar denoted her as a Lieutenant Commander. She had an oddly excited look on her face, and she got the initial attempt to scan his surface thoughts out of the way almost immediately, a scan that met nothing but that false front of inane thought that protected him from curious Faey.

“Greetings,” she said in very thickly accented English, almost as if she were trying to sing the words. “You are Jason Fox, yes?”

“I am,” he said cautiously, in Faey.

“Oh, thank the Trinity!” she said with an explosive sigh, pulling the chair out on the other side of the table and seating herself uninvited. “I’m still having tremendous trouble with English. I did so want to conduct this initial interview in your native language, but I’m very relieved you’re willing to use Faey.”

“Who are you?” he asked bluntly.

“Lieutenant Commander Lirrin Ulala,” she said, extending a blue hand. “And I’m very excited to meet you, Jason Fox.”

Jason stared at that hand, then met her eyes until she cleared her throat and withdrew it delicately. Jason didn’t feel too social at the moment, but on the other hand, he avoided skin to skin contact with Faey at all costs. Their telepathic powers were amplified if they had physical contact, and he couldn’t risk that. “Yes, well, please excuse me for inviting myself this way, but I didn’t really expect to meet you so soon. I was just touring the French Quarter and stopped here to use the restroom, and happened to spot you from the doorway.” She pointed down the hall, to where the rather archaically placed restrooms were located. Patty O’s was not restroom friendly. “When I realized I had the good luck to cross paths with you, I couldn’t pass it up. It saves me having to call you and disturb you with setting up a formal appointment.”

“An appointment for what?”

“I’ve been sent to interview you and a few other people in several academies on Terra,” she answered. I’m a divisional recruitment officer for the Technological Advancement division of the Ministry of Science. You know, Research and Development.”

That sent a chill through him. R&D? What did they want with him?

“Why would you come to see me? I’m just a student.”

“That’s exactly why I came to see you,” she chuckled. “My division handles recruiting students into R&D. We oversee academies and, when we see someone who has the test scores to conceivably qualify for R&D, we send someone like me to meet the potential candidate. My job is to educate you about what goes on in R&D, so you might consider it a career choice and actively work towards qualifying for it. I don’t have them with me, but I have some literature and some passcodes for you, so you can access the candidate section of R-net, the R&D network. I’d usually give it to you during the interview, but as I said, this wasn’t planned.” She smiled. “You’ll receive some other visits, I’m sure. Anyone who becomes a potential candidate for R&D is also a potential candidate for Black Ops, which is something like the bastard stepchild of R&D. They deal only with developing weapons, arms, armor, that kind of thing. You’ll also most likely receive several visits from Naval Engineering, the division of the Royal Navy who designs and build starships.

“Well, I’m not going to intrude myself on your private time any longer. I’ll call your panel later and set up a more formal appointment, because it’s clear to me that you’re trying to relax after your finals. I’ll have to request a copy of them and see how well you did,” she smiled. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Jason. Try not to get too drunk after you finish finals, though I know how hard it is. I seem to have lost track of two or three days after I finished my finals in my last semester before graduation,” she laughed.

“It’s not much of a bother,” he said in a neutral tone.

“I’ll probably interview you and the two other people I’m scheduled to meet sometime next week, so please do try to keep that in mind and make no set plans for early next week. I can be quite flexible, but I would prefer to conduct all three interviews quickly, and yours at your earliest convenience.”

“Just call me,” he said evenly.

“I’ll send you a message, since we’ve already been introduced. I’d like to try for, what do you call it? Monday?” she said in English.

Monday is fine with me.” Fine to get it out of the way, so he could immediately forget all about it, he added silently to himself.

“Very good. It was nice to meet you, despite it being quite accidental.” She offered her hand again, and her eyes were curiously deliberate.

Jason stared at her hand, then held his hand up defensively. “No offense, but I don’t shake hands with Faey,” he said quite directly.

“Why is that?”

“Because I know what it means if I do,” he said cryptically. That incited an immediate attempt by her to read his surface thoughts, and he put the very reason why out there for her to see, a fear that that touch would let her read every thought in his head, an exaggeration of the truth. He had little doubt that she knew that he was social with a Faey, and that he had an understanding of how their telepathy worked. It wasn’t entirely accurate, but to her, it would be accurate enough.

“Fair enough,” she said with a nod. “Though you should really be more trusting,” she said with a slight smile.

He didn’t bother to reply. He watched her walk away with her little black case, and his mind was storming with thought. He had never expected a personal visit from R&D. That was the last thing he ever thought would happen. It frightened him, deeply, at the thought that the Imperium knew he existed, but here shows up Lieutenant Commander Ulala, descended from the on high of the Ministry of Science, declaring to him without doubt that he was not anonymous. Maybe they hadn’t fixated personal attention on him, but his name was on a list with other students that had the grades that had gotten them noticed.

That scared the socks off of him, because he was not like other students. He had a secret, a dark, terrible, life-altering secret that could get him killed if it became public knowledge. If Commander Ulala had touched him, had used that contact to more sharply gain access to the real workings of his mind, his secret could have been out... and he might very well end up on some Faey dissection table.

That, more than anything, was what he feared the most, and was the primary motivation for him to wash out and get a nice safe job somewhere on Earth. That was what he just couldn’t make Jyslin understand. She was under the impression that once she had him trained, that he’d never have to worry about ever being discovered. But he didn’t hold the same view, he knew that it would only take the most minor of slips, and then it was over. He didn’t want to be around any Faey at all if he could help it, and he would be if he worked for the Imperium. Yes, his primary reasoning was an absolute refusal to aid the Imperium, but there was also the issue of this power that he wasn’t supposed to have, and might get him killed if the Imperium discovered that he possessed it.

Pinching his nose between his fingers, he actively suppressed the thoughts of the few people around him. Any time he thought about his rare gift, it caused him to become aware of it, and that led to him opening himself just enough to eavesdrop on the broadcasted thoughts of those people around him. Sometimes it was hard to resist, and that practice had gotten him a reputation for being creepy around the dorm. Jyslin felt that his training was moving along quite well, had declared him proficient in sending, and had been teaching him the basics of psychic combat lately, focusing on defending from another telepath’s attack. That was something he needed to learn, just on the off chance that he was discovered, and had to resort to defending himself from another telepath. Jason had tremendous strength with his talent, so much so that only either a very well trained telepath or someone with similar strength, like a Marine, was going to be able to overwhelm his defense. She was teaching him how to attack as well, but the standard Faey methodology for training a telepath focused first on defense, then on attack. It had parallels with the other aspects of the training; first learning how to protect, how to be defensive, and then learning how to be active or offensive. Learn how to protect from unwanted thoughts, then learn how to listen to them. Learn how to block out broadcasted thought, then learn how to burrow into another’s mind for information. Learn how to defend, then learn how to attack. Jason was getting pretty good at the defense, but still had much to learn as far as attacking went.

Water under the bridge and all that. He’d just have to endure this official visit from this Lieutenant Commander Ulala, then get on with his life. It wasn’t like he was actually going to be in R&D anyway. Next semester, well, the pressure would finally get to him, and he’d crack and do very badly.

By this time next year, he’d be in career training, being taught a specific job, because his time as a student at Tulane would be over.

Until then, he had a problem to solve. He looked down at his napkins and started studying the code once again. Maybe he wasn’t being specific enough, or his math was too restrictive. Yes, maybe that was it. Perhaps there was more going on here than he first realized, and he was using the wrong mathematical formulas. Maybe that was preventing the programming from understanding what the weapon’s sensors was telling it. Well, bloody hell, he knew everything in the weapon worked, he just couldn’t get the processor to let the weapon go hot. That was a sensor problem, it had to be. And since he knew that there was nothing wrong with the sensors, that meant that the problem was how the processor was handling the data the sensors were supplying to it.

He picked up his pen and started to scrawl on a napkin, then blew out his breath and flagged the waiter for the check. He needed to write on something better than a napkin to figure this one out.


Closed up in his room, ignoring the loud, banging music that was rattling the window, Jason was lost in his own little world. It was a world of trinary logic, and it seemed to sing to him this night in a way it had never done so before. He knew he was in the zone, and he couldn’t lose it.

His fingers flew on the holographic keyboard before him, as he completely rewrote the code block that dealt with how the processor received data from the sensors, and what that data meant. He referred liberally to several pages of chaotic notes that were spread out around the panel on the desk, hanging from the lamp, taped to the wall, and even set on the bed where he could see them. Several other pages of mathematical calculations were stacked on the floor, as he’d gone over his math to make sure he’d gotten the correct answers (he thought he had, it all matched with previous calculations, and the panel ran the numbers in several simulations and agreed with his results). It was rare for him to have such clarity of thought when it came to programming, for it had always been his weak point. He knew the language, but he just wasn’t that good at writing complicated programs. Everything he’d done up to that point didn’t require much in the way of complicated programming, maybe only a few hundred lines of code backing up a piece of equipment’s hard-encoded operating parameters. But this system had no hard-coding, it was all coming from him, and it had been quite a learning experience to have to build that from scratch.

It took him almost ten hours to build the code and debug it, then compile it. What he got he put on a memory stick, then took down the railgun, powered up the processor, and inserted the stick. The code downloaded, and as it instructed in the first lines, the processor incorporated it into its programming in the proper place, updating its subprocesses and revising its database.

The door opened, but he barely heard it. He saw the display on the side of the railgun read, in yellow English characters, [Updating... ... ]. He had to resist the urge to hold his breath.

“Still working on that thing?” Jyslin asked. Jason glanced back at her and saw she was still in her armor, her MPAC slung over her shoulder with her helmet hanging from the barrel. “How did your tests go? Got your scores yet?” Jyslin always spoke when she visited him in the dorm, always. It was part of the masquerade they used to hide his power, for extended bouts of silence or odd speech patterns might draw attention, such as one person answering a question which hadn’t been asked. They didn’t follow that rule in Jyslin’s house, where they sent almost exclusively, both to let him practice and because they both actually preferred it that way. Jason found sending to be much simpler and more effective to use than speaking, for he could send much faster than he could talk, and he never had to worry about whether or not she heard him. It was something of a bitter pill that he actually preferred sending over speaking, but he could only use with with Jyslin and Symone, and never when they were together. Jyslin still didn’t know that Symone knew about his talent. That was one secret they both kept from her.

“Hush,” he said absently, watching the display. The display blinked. [Updated. Reloading OS.]

“Well?” she asked.

“I haven’t looked yet,” he told her.

“Phaugh, let me,” she said, sliding past him in the cramped room and getting in front of his panel. Her gloved fingers quickly banged out a few commands, and a couple of touches on the display got her the information she wanted. “Wow!” she breathed. “Jason, you got all A’s! Your lowest score was a 94! That’s wonderful!”

[Railgun X-1 OS loaded. Boot Diag] “Whatever,” he said without much so much as moving his eyes from the display. A series of alphanumeric characters scrolled across the tiny display, each one denoting that a memory block had been tested and proved either true or false. Then it spat out a sequence of hardware diagnostic test results, as it tested every subsystem for functionality. [Boot Diag complete, Raingun X-1 operational.] scrolled across the display. Each subsystem passed the boot test, he saw as that blinked off, replaced by a visual readout of the number of rounds in the clip. The rounds in the weapon were actually dummy arounds, made of nonmagnetic material, but they did serve to test the ammo counter, and the round would be recognized by the weapon when it was chambered, they just wouldn’t fire even if he pulled the trigger, since the magnetic catapult couldn’t affect them. “Now, time to roll the dice,” he breathed quietly, reaching behind the trigger assembly and flipping the safety selector off.

The display’s background color turned from green to red, and the yellow numbers turned white.

The weapon went hot.

Yes!” he hissed triumphantly. “It worked!”

“What worked? It actually got past the safety?” she asked. She looked over his shoulder and saw the red backlit display, then gave a short cry of delight. “I knew you could do it!” she told him, kissing his ear. “When are you going to test it?”

“Tomorrow I guess. I’ll take it out somewhere safe and see if it blows up in my hands,” he said with a rueful chuckle.

“Well, I have tomorrow off, so I’ll come along,” she said. “Zora traded days off with me, she needs Friday off because her son’s coming in to see her.”

“I didn’t know she had a son,” he said.

She nodded. “He goes to a boarding school on homeworld, a really fancy one,” she told him. “Zora puts every credit of her paycheck into that place. Poor girl, I don’t think she’s eaten a meal outside the chow hall for over a year that wasn’t bought for her by someone else. That’s why she was so happy about giving you those lessons. She really needed the money. That money got her son here to visit.”

“Well, I’m glad she could use it,” he mused, putting the safety back on, issuing a few commands on the tiny touch-screen display on the side of the weapon, then setting it back on its rack. He wouldn’t power it down, to make sure the code was stable. The weapon’s program was in debug mode right now, dumping data back into the memory stick he’s put in it, which he could use to analyze the weapon’s performance later on.

“So, you wanna go out and celebrate the end of term?” she asked.

“Not tonight,” he told her, then he told her about the visit he’d received from the R&D representative. “I’m a little worried about that, but I’m sure it’ll pass after she’s gone.”

“That’s no reason not to go out,” she said archly, brushing her red hair out of her face. Jason had just idly remarked that he thought she’d be quite lovely with long hair, and she’d started to let it grow out as a result. Faey hair grew almost insanely fast, almost a quarter of an inch a day; Jyslin had been getting it cut once a week before he made that remark. The customary comb-over style was gone now, as she’d let the left side of her hair grow out to the same length as her right, had it cut to even it out, then let that evened hair start to grow longer. It was down to her shoulders now, and it wouldn’t stop growing fast until it was halfway down her back. Only then would it slow down to a more human rate of growth. She’d soon have to start tying her hair up in a bun to get it all under her helmet.

“To be honest, I really don’t want to go out tonight,” he told her. “I can’t believe I started working on that thing, but I did. Now that I’m done, I just want to sleep.”

She chuckled. “Now that I can understand,” she told him. “We’ll go out tomorrow, ok?”

“Sure,” he said, yawning.

“Get some sleep, baby,” she said with a giggle, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll come get you tomorrow morning, and we’ll see if that contraption of yours works.”

“Oh, it’ll work. How well is the question,” he said confidently.

“Then we’ll find out, won’t we?” she said with a wink. “Hi Tim,” she called as she squeezed past him and sauntered out of his room, then stopped just outside the door. Tim had just appeared at the open doorway, and he looked haggard. “What’s wrong?”

“Finals,” Tim groaned. “And I’ve had the king of all headaches today.”

“It’ll clear up after you’re done and get roaring drunk,” Jyslin grinned. “You done?”

He shook his head. “I have Control II tomorrow morning, then I’m done,” he answered.

“Well, there’s the end of your headache,” she said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Amen.”

“You ready?”

“Yah, but I have more studying to do, just to make sure.”

“Smart man. See you two later.”

Tim watched her go, then came into his room. “She have evening shift today?” he asked.

Jason nodded, sitting down at his desk. “You look a little pale, and your nose is red,” he noted. “You getting the flu or something?”

“I must have lost a quart of blood today,” he grunted. “Lisa Porter hit me in the face with the door coming out of Xeno I. They sent me to the campus clinic to stop the nosebleed, then they found out my nose was broken. Hairline fracture of the nose,” he growled, then he swore. “They had to fix it, and that really fuckin’ hurt. I thought those bone fusers were supposed to be painless. My nose is still a little sore, and it gave me a headache that still hasn’t gone away.”

“I didn’t know they worked on cartilage,” Jason mused aloud. “That might be why it hurt.”

“Whatever. I plan on accidentally knocking Porter down the stairs tomorrow morning.”

“That’s not an accident,” Jason chuckled.

“That’s accidentally on purpose,” Tim answered. “God, I want to sleep, but I have to study.”

“It does no good studying with a headache,” Jason told him. “Get some sleep, wake up early, and study in the morning. You’ll be better off.”

“I think you’re right,” Tim grunted, putting a hand to his nose, then wincing. “See you tomorrow.”

“I’m going out in the morning to test that, but I should be back in the afternoon,” he said, pointing at the railgun.

“You got it working?”

“I hope so. If I come back tomorrow without both arms, you’ll know something went wrong.”

Tim chuckled humorlessly. “Good luck.”

“Good luck on your last test. Just keep saying that, last test. It helps.”

“I know it does,” Tim agreed, then filed out of his room.

Jason blew out his breath, then leaned back in his chair. He looked up at the railgun, whose display was still steady, and reached over to turn off the display of his panel. Well, he’d find out if it worked tomorrow.


It was a windswept rock, barren and uninhabited. It had a narrow pebble beach on the north side, and a long, narrow plateau that formed a gulley leading up to a sheer rock face of the solitary hill at the center of the island.

That made it absolutely perfect.

The place was called Seal Rock, and it was an island off the coast of Maine. Jason remembered it well from kayaking trips with his father, for it was often used as a camp by kayaking troupes as they traveled up the coast from Portland, towards Rockland. It was about a mile off shore from the coast, but that coast was almost always shrouded in fog or mist. Seals often basked on the pebble beach on the west side, or along the rocks on the jagged coast on the other sides of the tiny island, but there were none there when Jason landed his airskimmer on the pebble beach. The surf pounded on the east side of the island, sometimes sending spray up far enough for them to see. Jason felt this was the perfect place to test the railgun because there was absolutely no chance of anyone getting hurt so long as the weapon wasn’t fired towards the coast. If it all worked properly, of course. The wind was strong and crisp, and even though it was July, it was noticably cool. Jason climbed out of his skimmer with the railgun in his hand and breathed in the salty air, a thousand memories floating through his mind. This region, it had been his home, the first permanent home he’d known. He’d been to Seal Rock a dozen times with his father, and he had fond memories of it. They’d lived only fifty miles from here, in a small, steep-roofed house built out in the middle of the woods, with the woodpile out by the shed that held all their camping gear, and the canoe hanging between two trees by ropes tied to the ends. Thirty miles from here was the tiny airport where his father ran his instructor business, with the airstrip with the big pothole near the end that always got those who didn’t land there often.

Memories of another time, another life, something he would never have again.

“I hate cold,” Jyslin growled as she came down the steps after him.

This is summer, Jason noted idly. You don’t want to be here for winter.

I lived on a rock that had never seen liquid water occur naturally, Jayce hon, she sent with an audible grunt. This would be considered volcanic by those standards.

Then don’t complain, he sent absently as he set down the small case, then opened it. He removed the clip from the railgun and then pressed the button that ejected the chambered round, which dropped from the empty magazine holder and to the ground. He then loaded the new clip and pressed the button that caused it to chamber the first round. “Well, let’s not waste any time,” he told her aloud as he took off the safety, and the weapon went hot. “You might want to back up. If this thing blows up in my face, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re my only way off this rock,” she snorted as she came up beside him. If you go, I go.

“You can swim,” he teased.

“Riiight,” she drawled, then she chuckled. “Let’s see it.”

Jason set the weapon against his shoulder. He hadn’t installed sights or a scope, so he had no guide to aiming it. He did have a large hillside to serve as a target though, so he wasn’t exactly worried about missing anything. He prepared himself for a possible heavy recoil, and then, as soon as he was ready, he pulled the trigger.

There was no recoil, but the weapon most certainly did fire. There was a strange sound, a high-pitched punching sound like a BEEEeeaaaah, and instantly there was a corkscrew trail of smoke that led away from the muzzle of the railgun. The iron-cored round, sheathed in laminated titanium, was at the vanguard of that spiral tail, and it slammed into the rocky face of the hillside at speeds that almost defied rational comprehension. The round penetrated deeply into the rock face, until the energy involved in stopping the round transferred into the rock and caused a spectacular explosion. The sound of that impact was compounded by a sudden miniature sonic boom, a very loud crack, noticably loud but not as loud as a gunshot. The air that had been displaced by the slug formed a shockwave that accompanied the sound, a sudden pressure in the air that washed over them, almost like getting slapped in the face by a child. Startling, but not painful at all.

The rocky side of the hillside simply shattered, spraying dust and chips out from the point of impact. The shockwave of that impact startled Jason and Jyslin, who instinctively dove to the ground as a billowing cloud of dust boiled angrily away from the impact point, and a sudden rain of small rocks dropped on them..

“Holy shit,” Jyslin gasped as she looked up, then she laughed. I’d say that that was a successful test fire!

I’d say so, Jason mirrored, getting back up onto one knee and looking at the dust, which was quickly blown away by the wind. It exposed a crater in the side of the hill that was almost eight feet across and three feet deep. The slug had stuck the side of the hill with the velocity of a falling meteor, and had blown a crater out of the side of the hill. The sonic boom wasn’t as loud as I’d expected.

“By Trelle’s garland,” Jyslin breathed as they advanced up to look at the impact crater. I bet it’d go through neutronium.

I’m not sure, but it’ll go through any armor the Imperium has here, Jason answered. Neutronium’s very resistant to physical impact, and that’s all this is. He read the velocity display on the panel of the weapon and frowned. “Only 14,732 miles and hour,” he grunted. It was supposed to go faster than that.

You don’t think that’s fast enough? Jyslin asked archly, then she laughed again. It works, love! You actually made it work!

Yeah, it worked all right, he sent, inspecting the weapon for any signs of stress or damage. It looked just fine, though, and a diagnostic showed him that everything was operating as expected. The weapon’s recoil absorption system had worked perfectly, completely absorbing the massive recoil of the catapult, a recoil that would have ripped his arm off had he fired it without the recoil system working. He shouldered the weapon again, and Jyslin managed to turn around and put her hands to her pointed ears just as he pulled the trigger again. Another bluish corkscrew of smoke was the only indication that the weapon had fired off the round, with that same punching sound that was quickly replaced by a loud boom from the sonic boom and the fact that the slug had blown another huge crater out of the side of the hill. He checked muzzle velocity and found it to be only different by 37 miles an hour, then quickly fired the weapon again, before the dust had been blown away from the last shot. The muzzle velocity was only 12 miles an hour off from the original shot, showing that it was going to consistently fire around that 14,700 mile per hour mark.

“Well, this calls for a celebration,” Jyslin said with a grin.

“We’ll go out with Tim and Symone tonight,” Jason told her. “Right now I want to get this back home and take it apart to make sure there’s no damage inside.”

Hold on, I get a turn, she sent quickly, holding her hands out.

Sure, here you go, he agreed, handing it to her. It automatically chambers the next round. Just pull the trigger when you see the indicator turn green here, he instructed, pointing at the green light. That tells you that the flux cabling capacitors are recharged and ready to fire.

About how long is the recharge time?

About a half a second, but it also takes it about half a second to chamber the next round, so you’re not really losing any time either way, he answered. It’s not an automatic weapon like an MPAC, Jyslin. It’s not really meant to be anything, really, except an experiment.

“That’s slow,” she complained aloud.

I didn’t design it to be fast, he countered. It’s not a military weapon, girl, it’s an experiment.

“Well, it works,” Jyslin chuckled, putting the weapon to her shoulder, then firing off four rounds in rapid succession, creating a huge cloud of dust. She lowered the weapon and waited for it to clear, and it exposed a destroyed hillside that had nearly had a hole blown clean through it. Both Jason and Jyslin had been hitting the same general area of the hill, causing each round to dig even deeper into the crater left behind by the original round. They weren’t exactly on target, but that didn’t really matter when the craters overlapped.

Nice, it doesn’t even twitch, she said appreciatively. Even my MPAC has some recoil. This has none at all.

There’s not enough recoil in an MPAC to justify recoil reduction, Jason told her. With this, you have to have it, or it’ll rip off your arm.

That’s no lie, she agreed, looking at the devastated hillside. I don’t suppose I could convince you to send this in?

He gave her a flat look.

“I didn’t think so,” she chuckled. It was worth a shot.

You should have known better than to even ask, he sent with an audible snort. I’m almost afraid to think of what would happen if one of these slugs hit a person.

I’ve seen space dust injuries, she told him. When I was on board. That’s when dust or microrocks hit people out doing maintenance on the hull. This would probably be similar.

Was it bad?

Actually, not as bad as you’d think. The thing moves so fast that it doesn’t have the chance to rip a person up. Flesh and bone doesn’t really hinder it, you know. It leaves a neat hole all the way through. I’d imagine that it hurts like hell, but rock strikes are more dangerous because of suit decompression than they are from the wound itself. Well, unless it hits something vital, that is.

Huh. Well, here’s for hoping that this experiment never ends up hurting anyone.

Nothing wrong with that, hon, she nodded. “You ready to go? I want to get back to someplace warm.”

“You mean back to the boiling cauldron,” Jason grunted.

“It’s nature’s revenge for making me go to Argentina,” she winked.

“All you had to say was no,” he countered.

Jason picked up the case of slugs from the ground, and offered his hand to take the railgun back, but Jyslin just cradled it in her arm. Let’s get back. I wonder how Tim did on his exams. He was really worried about calculus.

He should be about done by now. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.


Railgun safely stowed in a duffel bag in the back of his car, Jason drove back to Tulane in a relatively good mood. The railgun worked, and worked pretty much well how he expected, though he’d have to figure out why the round velocity was slower than his mathematical projection. Maybe he hadn’t taken ambient air pressure enough into account, or used the wrong pressure formula. It was just a good thing that that wasn’t a vital part of the weapon’s operation. If he was going to mess up, it was best to mess up on something trivial like round velocity. He pondered that as he motored up Saint Charles Avenue, his mind only half on driving. He stopped at a red light beside a Faey hovercar, which had two Army regulars in it.

I wonder if they’re going to call us in, one asked the other.

I doubt it, I think they have half the Marine barracks over there right now. They need us out here to keep a presence on the streets, the other answered.

Jason glanced at the pair, a dark-haired Faey and one with whitish hair, older than the first, with the tip of her left ear missing.

I wonder if it’s just a rumor, or if it’s really true, the first asked in a kind of nervous voice.

We’ll find out soon enough. Oria’s got campus duty today, she’s in the middle of it.

Campus? There was only one campus around here, and that was Tulane. Jason wondered if someone had a nervous breakdown and went nuclear or something. It had been known to happen before.

Well, something was certainly going on. Jason had trouble getting past all the hovercars to get to the student parking lot. Marines in their black armor were swarming all over the campus, along with a good number of Army regulars, and the sendings were thick in the air, almost like a chatter, as commanding officers relayed orders, soldiers reported in, and so forth. It was so thick that he had trouble sorting one voice out from the others, but that was due to a lack of training. Jason had no experience dealing with multiple sendings at once, for there was no way that Jyslin could teach that to him. It was a kind of blur of voices, each one competing with the others for attention in his head, and making them all incomprehensible.

Jason passed a pair of Marines who were picketed at the edge of the parking lot and moved up to the steps of the dorm, where several students were standing, watching the Faey run around. “What’s going on?” he asked, shouldering his duffel bag.

“Someone flipped out I think,” a girl with short dark hair answered him, wearing a white tee shirt and jeans. She was Mary Liston, she lived up on the third floor. “I’m not really sure. I just know that they cancelled exams for today to sort things out. They had the Plaid surrounded for a while.”

“They cancelled exams? Woah,” Jason breathed. “That is serious.”

“Well, someone just washed out,” someone said with a chuckle, which caused a few people to laugh. “I wonder who it was.”

“It makes me wonder why the teacher didn’t just zap him,” someone else mused in a thoughtful tone. “I’ve seen them do that before. Professor Korten’s really liberal with his telepathy. I mean, how could a student go bonkers like that? A teacher would just zap him.”

“Certain states of mind make it hard for telepathy to work,” Jason said absently. “If this person was totally off his rocker, he’d be really hard to subdue with telepathy. That’s probably why they called in the Marines. They’d be able to do it no matter what.”

“And you’d know that how? From that blueskin you date?” someone asked acidly.

“Try looking around on Civnet,” Jason answered cooly. “You’d be surprised the kind of stuff you can find out in the public domain.”

“Jayce, I’m glad to see you back,” Tim called as he came up the sidewalk. “Did you hear what’s going on?”

“I just got back,” he answered. “I haven’t yet. Do you know?”

He shook his head. “I just know that they evacuated the Plaid, and not long after a big mess of Marines blocked off the building, then sent in a team wearing full battle gear,” he related. “I don’t know if they’ve brought anyone out yet or not. We all think that some student went psycho and like got hold of an MPAC or something, or has a PPG and is threatening to make it nuke or something.” He sighed. “At least I got my test finished before it happened. I was leaving the Plaid when they called for us to evacuate.”

Jason tuned out the students and Tim to concentrate on what was going on with the Faey. He labored to pick out individual sendings to try to understand what was going on, but it wasn’t easy. It was all nothing but a big jumble. Whatever it was, though, it had all the Marines very agitated. Something quite serious had just happened. He knew it was really serious when an airskimmer carrying the crest of Trillane landed out on the campus accompanied by two Dragonfly fighters, and the Baron of North America himself appeared in the doorway as the two fighter mecha hovered over the airskimmer protectively.

Jason fidgeted a bit, and realized that he had the railgun in the duffel bag in his hand. That might not be a good thing to be carrying around with the Baron of North America within his line of sight. He was about to go up to his room when one of the Marines behind him sent, and she was close enough for him to single out her message and understand it. The students at the east dorm are calm, she reported in. They’re trying to figure out what happened. They think that a student suffered a nervous breakdown during a test and became violent. There was a pause. Aye, Captain.

I just can’t believe it, the second sent to the first. It seems impossible. How can any of these, these, natives have any talent?

Jason almost dropped the duffel bag. Talent? Someone had expressed telepathic ability? Right in the middle of exams?

Well, they are remarkably similar to us, the first answered. Just less developed. Maybe this woman is just that one in a million that’s similar enough to us that she has talent. These humans have had psychic ability threaded through their myth and history, though they’ve never proved it. Given their violence against things they don’t understand, maybe anyone who could prove it wasn’t brave enough to come forward. Maybe they really do have it, but it’s just ridiculously rare. I feel sorry her, truth be told. The mindbenders are going to probe her, and it’s not like she did anything wrong. She probably couldn’t help it. Actually, I think it’s a good thing that humans might have talent.

He felt like his entire world was about to turn inside out. It was over. The Faey now knew that humans could express talent. He had no doubt that that meant that soon, mindbenders from the Secret Police were going to start showing up on Earth, and they were going to start watching everyone, watching them very closely. And in a way, it told him that he actually was not unique, that he was not some freakish accident of nature. He was not the only human to express telepathic ability. And now that the Faey knew, knew that humans could express that one ability that gave them an absolute stranglehold over Earth, they were going to come down like the sword of Damacles.

His knees felt a little weak. He sat down heavily on the steps, trying to get over a storm of near-panic. What was he going to do now? It was going to be almost impossible to hide from the Faey if they had teams of mindbenders running around checking everyone out. How was he going to do it? How was he going to keep his secret with them running around trying to ferret out others?

Maybe he was overreacting a little bit. They’d found one telepath, and it was going to take them time to figure out why she was one. It was irrational to think that they were going to send an army of mindbenders down here and scour each and every human on Earth because one expressed telepathic ability. For the moment, he still had a cushion of relative safety. It was going to take the Faey time to figure out what was going on, and decide on a course of action. They very well might start looking for other telepathic humans, but it wasn’t going to happen right now. And with him being out of class right now, he had time to address this issue calmly and rationally, to think things through and decide what was going to happen. Because from this moment on, he knew that things could never be the same.

The game was over.

“Jayce? Jayce, you ok?” Tim asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. It’s just the heat. You know I can’t stand heat,” he said, though his attention was again more focused on the sending flying around him. He was starting to get the hang of it, and from time to time he could pick out a snippet of legible sending. They were still a bit disorganized, it sounded, trying to get everything settled down. He did hear that the student that expressed was still in the building, under active subdual from a pair of Marines. Odds were, the girl’s panic had given her a desperate strength on top of the powerful defense her unhinged mind had presented to the Marines, so it had taken two of them to get her under control. So far, there has been no order to lock down the school, and Jason had a feeling that not being on campus just might be a good idea right now. “I think I’m going to go down to the Quarter,” he told Tim quickly. “Too much activity around here to suit me, and nobody’s gonna do anything all day but talk about what’s going on. I don’t feel like being aggravated all day. Wanna come?”

“Sure,” he said. “We taking the car or riding a streetcar?”

“My car’s already cool from the AC, so let’s take that,” he said, standing up and shouldering his duffel bag. “Just do me a favor and run up to my room and get my panel,” he asked quickly, handing Tim the key to his room. “I’ll get the car started and pick you up over at the sidewalk.”

Tim eyed the duffel, and seemed to understand that Jason had his prototype railgun in it, so he nodded. “Sure,” he said seriously. Jason didn’t want the railgun to be found in his room, and that was a serious possibility right now.

“Like smoke,” Jason said quietly, and Tim nodded. Jason opened himself just enough to listen to Tim’s thoughts, and found that he was doing as Jason ordered, using some of the tricks that Jason had taught him to hiding from Faey eavesdropping. He wasn’t very good at it, but then again, Jason was actively listening to him. The two Marines over there weren’t focusing on any one person, so Tim would just kind of fade into the background noise when he passed, offering no thought that would make them focus attention on him. Jason walked past those two without attracting much attention, but one of them did look back at him when he reached his car. She watched him open the trunk and toss the duffel bag in, then seemed to lose interest, putting two fingers to her head as a powerful sending drowned out all others, so strong that Jason too took note of it, as someone with impressive strength addressed all Feay in the area with an open, broadcasted sending.

ALL UNITS ARE TO FORM A PERIMETER AROUND THE CAMPUS IMMEDIATELY, the sending boomed across campus. INFORM STUDENTS THAT THEY ARE TO REPORT TO THEIR ROOMS FOR A BRIEF PERIOD WHILE THE CAMPUS IS SECURED FOR THE BARON TO CONDUCT A TOUR.. ENSURE YOU ARE POLITE, THE STUDENTS ARE NOT UNDER ANY SUSPICION, AND ARE PROBABLY UPSET. SQUAD LEADERS, CONTACT COMMANDER LYRE OVER COM OR BY SENDING IMMEDIATELY FOR ZONE ASSIGNMENTS.

That was not good.

“Excuse me! Excuse me, you at the car! I’m afraid I have to ask you to go back to your dorm room for a while, they’re asking all students to return to their rooms!” one of the Faey called loudly to him. “It shouldn’t be for too long, they’re just securing the campus for the arrival of the Baron!”

“If that’s all it is, why does it matter if I go? I’ll just be one less person underfoot,” he answered reasonably, closing the trunk.

“My, he has a point,” the other one laughed. “But I’m sorry to say that orders are orders, babe. Back to your room. You should be free to move around again in about an hour.”

Jason hesitated, caught in a brief dilemma. He did not want to be on campus with that telepathic girl out there making the Faey concentrate here, demonstrating that humans had their talent. He was very afraid that they might take that opportunity to interview other students, and he didn’t want to end up in that position, facing an unknown Faey across a table who might use her power against him. Jason had never been in that position before, and he didn’t know if he could keep his power a secret if he was confronted in that manner. But, on the other hand, openly defying a Faey command at this moment would be monumentally bad. He had to choose between risking being exposed, or doing something that was going to get him into very real and immediate trouble.

Then again, maybe it just required a little subterfuge. “Tell you what,” Jason said, going around to the far side of his car. “I’ll arm wrestle you over it.” He put his elbow down on the blistering hot metal of his trunk’s hood.

“You two go get those other students back into their rooms,” a voice called behind him. He turned and saw Jyslin standing there, her black armor gleaming, and a sober expression on her face. “I’ll get this one. He always likes to fight.” This one is my beau. I’d prefer to get him off campus and out of your hair, because he’ll do nothing but fight with you, she added her thought, supposedly a private instruction to them, or it would have been had Jason not been able to hear it.

We have orders to get them into their rooms, she protested mentally.

We have orders to secure the perimeter. Where he is doesn’t matter so long as he’s not wandering around campus, right? Letting him and any other student that wants off campus accomplishes the same thing, it secures the campus.

Probably, but I’ll have to send in for some clarification, the taller one said dubiously, turning her head towards the airskimmer and increasing the strength of her sending. Commander, I have students here at the east dorm that want to get off campus instead of report to their rooms. Is that permissible?

That’s fine, so long as they remain outside the perimeter until the Baron leaves, came the response.

Well, there we go, the taller one mused. He’s all yours, Sergeant. Sorry to go over your head, but I didn’t want any doubt as to orders with the Baron on the site.

No problem, Corporal, that was the smart thing to do, she answered gracefully, grabbing Jason’s arm. “I think you need to take a little walk, mister,” she told him with a false smile. “Stop bothering the Marines.”

What are you doing here? Jason demanded in a tight sending just to Jyslin, as the two Marines started towards the other students, calling for them to either return to their rooms or leave the campus, as they wished.

I got called in, what did you expect? Do you know what’s going on? she replied quickly.

I know enough. It’s been too thick for me to make out everything, but I managed to get the main parts. This is not good, Jyslin, he said, making a few abstract gestures. Not only are there telepathic humans, but now the Imperium knows about-no, they know that I might exist. You know how messy things are going to get, right?

She scratched her face, then thrust her hand at him to reinforce her point. Yeah, I know, but let’s not get too hasty, she pressed. Things haven’t developed yet. Let’s see where they go before we start making any kind of serious decisions.

I know, but it’s got me nervous, he sent with an audible sigh, motioning back towards the dorm. Right now I’m waiting for Tim to get down here with my panel. We’re going to go down to the Quarter and sit in Patty O’s for a while and wait this out. You have the range to reach me down there?

Please, she answered with a snort. Just don’t try to reach back up here to me. You have the range, but you might get intercepted trying to reach that far. Call me, don’t call me, she said, holding up her little com device, to which Jason had the contact number.

I know better. They’re way too many Faey up here who are too keyed up to try that. Are you going to be alright?

She chuckled. Hon, that’s what I should be asking you. Are you ok?

Yeah, just nervous as hell, he answered, scrubbing his face with a hand.

Just calm down. Go down to Patty O’s, but don’t drink anything. Keep a sharp wit about you right now.

I don’t plan to, he assured her.

Unassigned personnel report to the staging area by the main science building, an open sending broadcasted across the campus.

“There are my orders,” Jyslin told him aloud, looking back towards the Plaid. “I’ll see you later tonight, ok?”

“Tim’s bringing my panel, so call me if something comes up,” he answered.

“Yah, Tim is,” Tim called as he rushed up, Jason’s panel in his hand. “Those two Marines didn’t want to let me pass at first, til I told them you were waiting to pick me up. Then they let me by. You ask them to let me through, Jyslin?”

“No, they’re letting students get off campus instead of staying in their rooms,” she told him. “And that means you two had better get moving before they wonder why you’re not in your rooms.”

“Good idea,” Tim said, going around the car and quickly climbing into the passenger seat.

Jason drove slowly and carefully down to the French Quarter, and even parked in a pay garage instead of trolling the usual hidden areas where free parking could be found. He was just too unnerved. They walked down from the parking garage just off Royal Street to Patty O’s, and Jason went straight into the piano bar. He didn’t ask, he didn’t wave to any of the bartenders, he just sat down at the piano and started playing. He started with Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, then moved immediately into Bach, then Chopin. His eyes were closed nearly the entire time, as he used the sound of the music to relax him, to calm him, to settle the sudden chaos of his life and allow him to step back and think about things more rationally. Rationally, the best thing he could do right now was not panic, not make any rash or hasty decisions. Yes, the secret was out. The Faey now knew that there was a telepathic human. But, it was not him. That rather dubious honor had gone to someone he didn’t even know, a poor girl who had expressed in the middle of exams. The stress. That had to be what triggered it, the stress of exams.

Right now, the Faey didn’t know if it was an isolated incident or not. That worked in his favor, because they weren’t looking for others yet. First they had to find out what happened, they’d probably study the girl, find out what had happened to her. He did not envy her position right now. There was a very good chance she wouldn’t survive that examination. Faey were anything if not efficient and thorough, however, so it wasn’t going to take them long to complete that initial study and draw some conclusions.

Two to three weeks, at the most. At the absolute most. That was how long it was going to take them, and that was when he was going to have to make a decision.

Decisions. If they considered the girl an isolated incident, then he was probably going to be alright. He’d have to exercise extreme caution, because the spectre of another telepath might be lurking in the backs of their minds. He would lose that expectation of not being telepathic, and would probably not be able to send to Jyslin anymore. Ever. It would just be too dangerous. It was a small price to pay, however.

But, if the Faey didn’t consider the girl to be an isolated incident... hell. He really had no idea. They’d be looking for new telepaths, and that would make things exceptionally dangerous for him. He really didn’t see how he could continue to operate like that, being on guard every moment of every day for the rest of his life, and that only if they weren’t actively hunting new telepaths down. If they brought in teams of mindbenders and did personal interviews with everyone, he’d have no chance to go undetected. That would put him in danger, it would put Jyslin in even more danger, because she trained him and never told anyone about him. There was definitely more at stake here than just his life. There was Jyslin, and maybe even Tim and Symone, maybe even the career of Jyslin’s aunt Lorna. There was a great deal to consider, more than he really cared to ponder.

He would have to think about it, but later. He already had enough worries, and the moody music was earning him some scowls from Pete, the day manager, who was standing in the doorway of the piano bar. Jason winked at him and played the opening bars from Dragnet, which made the tall, willowy man break out into delighted laughter. Then he broke out into one of his favorite pieces, Scott Joplin’s The Entertainer, one of the best pieces of ragtime music ever written.

“I love it when you play that,” Tim said from the closest table, two empty daquiri glasses in front of him already. Two other people quietly filed into the piano bar and sat down near the back, and much to his surprise, they were Faey tourists. He could hear their chattered sending quite clearly, and they were dressed in what Jason thought to be rather amusing touristy garb: New Orleans tee shirts, the lady in a blue pleated skirt, the man in a pair of jeans that looked brand new, and both were wearing cheap plastic visors one could buy in any tee shirt shop or off some of the roving vendors. A waiter rushed in and asked to take their order, but they looked up at him blankly. “English... not good,” the Faey woman said, looking up at him.

“He wants to know what you want to drink,” Tim told them in Faey, turning around.

“Oh, you speak Faey! Thank the Trinity,” the woman said with a relieved laugh. “Tell him I’d like something fruity, and I’m not that worried about how drunk it makes me,” she said with a wink.

“I’d like to sample one of your stronger ales or beers,” the male told Tim.

“Stan, the lady wants a fruit punch Hurricane, and the gentleman would like a Guinness,” he told the waiter.

“Thanks Tim,” Stan said with a sigh. “They’re the fourth pair to come through here today.”

“Thanks much handsome,” the woman told Tim with a wink. “I know they’re getting frustrated with us, but at least they’re still very courteous and friendly. This city has been everything our travel agent said it would be. I’m glad we came here.”

“Not many here speak Faey,” Tim told them as Jason started playing All of Me.

“Well, we should have had English implanted before we left, so it’s really our fault,” the male chuckled. “We just weren’t sure if we were coming here or going to that France place, so we decided to risk it.”

A sign of the times, he guessed. They were the first Faey tourists that Jason had seen, but in a way, he should have expected it. Earth was more and more part of the Imperium, more and more deeply being tied up with it. They were nothing but a farming colony populated by an indigenous population that was still partially resistant to the Imperium, yet here they were, Faey tourists that had the money and the approval to come to their world on holiday. Jason finished up that song and started playing the piano portion of the song Cursum Perficio, an old, old song from an Irish singer named Enya.

The two tourists remained in the piano bar as Jason continued to amuse himself at the piano, and the place slowly started to fill up. Some of them were regulars, and they knew how the piano bar worked, so he was more than happy to take their napkins with the names of songs on them and credits folded up inside them, tips for playing the songs they requested. It was a nice diversion from reality, and it made him feel better and made the people sitting in the piano bar happy as well. He was a bit surprised when Rose, one of the real piano players, came through the door behind the pianos with her huge pile of sheet music and walked past his piano to the one that faced his on the other side of the stage. “Oy luv,” she said in her British accent, looking over her glasses at him. Rose was a middle aged, portly woman with her graying black hair done up in a bun and a habit of wearing voluminous flower-print dresses with a floppy woven straw hat. She was quite a character, and Jason was rather fond of her. “How long have you been here?”

“No idea,” he replied.

“When are you going to cut off that hair?”

“As soon as you wear pants.”

“Never, then,” she laughed. “Want a break?”

“I’m not here to work,” he told her. “I’m having fun.”

“Shh, don’t tell them that this is fun,” she said as she sat down. “They’ll expect us to do it for free!”

“Nah,” he smiled.

“Well, you’ll have to get off that rig in a half an hour. Alex is back in the dressing room getting ready for his shift.”

Jason finished up the song, then took a napkin from a doe-eyed young girl with black hair, who looked a little flushed when she handed it to him. Inside was a ten credit note, the words Piano Man, and a phone number.

Jason had to chuckle. He got that almost every time. “Got your harmonica Rose?”

“Oh, that,” she said, then reached into her pile of sheet music.

Jason had never been much of a singer, but he certainly wasn’t afraid to do it. He warned the now full piano bar about his terrible singing, then proceeded to prove it as he sang the lyrics of the song Piano Man as Rose played the harmonica portion. Towards the end of it, there was a bit of a commotion as Jyslin entered the piano bar, in full armor. What was more, Symone was with her, also in full armor. Jason nudged at Tim’s table with his chin, and Jyslin nodded and moved down to the front with Symone in tow.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for Rose to take over for me for a while,” he announced to them after the song was finished. “Don’t worry, she sings much better than I do.”

“Only to cats, doll,” she replied as she took a napkin from a young man, which made many in the bar laugh. “Now then, friends, I see here we have a request for-oh, you wicked boy,” Rose called with a laugh. “Now, as you know, I have to play whatever I get a request for, within certain reason, of course,” she said with a grin. “But young Andrew here has requested I play the theme to Scooby Doo. Well love, you asked for it!”

The bar broke into a riot of laughter as she dutifully played the theme of that ancient cartoon, which still was shown on television, and had even started creeping into Faey galactic casts on what was called Terra TV, a network that broadcasted entertainment made on Earth to the rest of the Imperium. Every planet in the Imperium had such a network devoted to their entertainment. What was worse, she sang it with enthusiasm, which made it even funnier. Rose was a bit of a ham. But Rose’s singing and playing created a perfect atmosphere for Jason to talk to Jyslin and Symone without many people overhearing them. “What happened on campus after we left?” he asked in Faey, leaning over the table. The other three did the same.

“Well, they took that girl to Houston, and from what I’ve heard, they’ve started examining her. There was a detachment of mindbenders there waiting for her,” she said with a shudder. “The Baron walked around and looked at things, then he left. Odds are, he went to Houston too, then he’ll probably go up to the orbital station to meet with the Duchess. She came in on a transport about two hours ago.”

“Shit,” Tim growled. “It’s that serious?”

“They’re taking it seriously, Tim-Tim,” Symone told him gravely. “You don’t understand what that girl represents to the Duchess.”

“A direct threat to Faey control,” Jason said grimly. “Faey telepathy is the main noose around the neck of the human race.”

“Exactly,” Jyslin nodded. “They’ll run all kinds of tests on her to find out how it happened.”

“Then what?” Tim asked.

“Well, if she survives that, they’ll probably take her to Draconis, fix her, train her, then use her as an agent for the mindbenders,” Jyslin said with a dark look. “A human telepath could go many places in the galaxy that other races would never allow one of us, because they know we’re telepathic, where they know from our own records that humans aren’t. She’ll end up being one hell of a spy.”

“That’s the truth. Every time I set foot on a free station or planet, I have a team of telepaths following me around,” Symone grunted. “That’s why Faey really don’t go outside the Imperium that much. We’re much more comfortable around people who aren’t always so suspicious of us.”

“I didn’t know other races were telepathic,” Tim whistled.

“Not as a whole, but most other races have some telepaths,” Jyslin told him. “The skaa don’t, but most other races do. They’re usually very, very rare, like less that one percent of the population. Faey are the only race in the known galaxy that’s naturally telepathic.”

“Well, if that’s true, why is it such a shock that humans might be telepathic?”

“Because there’s six billion humans on this planet, and none of them have any talent,” Jyslin told him. “This girl is one in six billion, Tim.”

Almost, Symone sent to Jason privately, giving him a sly smile.

“So, she’s some kind of freakish fluke,” he reasoned. “Why is that so scary?”

“Because she’s a fluke that represents a real threat to us, Tim. Even an untrained telepath can be dangerous. Probably even more dangerous than a trained one. An untrained telepath has raw terror boosting their power, and they’re very hard to subdue. They can kill people, Tim, even a trained telepath.”

“Oh, ok, I get it,” he nodded.

“Any word yet on what’s going to happen?” Jason asked.

She shook her head. “There probably won’t be any orders coming down the pipe til they finish their examination of her,” she answered. “Right now, they’re trying to get over the shock of the discovery. We’ll have to wait and see if they overreact.”

“You got that from your aunt?” Jason asked.

She nodded. “Right out of her mouth. She’ll keep me abreast of what’s going on.”

What else did you find out that we can’t tell Tim? Jason sent tightly, glancing meaningfully back at the two Faey tourists in the back of the bar.

Not much, really, she answered, looking sideways at him as he did her. So far there’s been absolutely no word about how the Trillanes are going to respond to this. But it goes further up than them, really. Some of the decisions that come down may be Imperial. If the Empress doesn’t like how the Trillanes respond, some orders may come down from Royal Command, and that’s nothing but the Empress’ commands. The Trillanes might have to take orders from Empress Dahnai if they don’t handle it in a way she approves.

I’m not surprised they’re so spooked, Jason informed her grimly.

It might all change tomorrow, so we can’t really hold any rumors up to the light of truth right now, she told him. The dust hasn’t settled yet. We have to wait for that before we have anything to go on, really. It’s going to hinge on what they find out from that girl that expressed today. If they consider her a fluke, as Tim called her, we’ll be alright. But if they determine that she might not be... she trailed off without finishing, but Jason certainly understood the implication.

Big trouble.

“So what do we do?” Tim asked.

“There’s nothing we can really do,” Jyslin told him. “You guys are on break right now, so I’d just say enjoy it. It probably won’t have anything more to do with you two now that the campus has cleared out.”

“That’s a relief,” Tim sighed. “So, we going somewhere on Sunday?”

“I doubt it,” Symone frowned. “They have us all on standby. That means we can’t leave the city.”

“Same here,” Jyslin nodded. “But it was scheduled for us, we’re up in the standby rotation. I told you about that last week, Jason.”

“I remember,” he nodded.

“But, I do want you staying with me tonight,” she told him directly. “Both of you. You and Symone can stay in the guest room, Tim,” she told him.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“Let’s just say that there’s a case of the jitters on campus,” she said uneasily. “You two might get a bit of flak because of us, so I’d like to give the place a night or so to calm down before I let you go back. The Trelle only knows, I don’t want you two going back there and beating people up when they start giving you attitude. They’d call me out of bed to come down there and break it up, and you know how cranky I am when I’m woke up.”

“I think I’d rather avoid that,” Tim laughed. Tim had tasted Jyslin’s surliness when being roused from naps.

“At least it gives you a reason to get your clothes out of my laundry room,” she told Tim flintily.

“Hey, I’ve been trying,” he objected. “I’m almost out of socks. Every time I go to get them, you’re not home. I can’t get past the gate without you signing me in, remember?”

“Why didn’t you just have Jason come with you, you dink?” Jyslin told him. “He has base access.”

“He was studying.”

Men,” she huffed. “You always have to make things so difficult!”

“That works with me, but I’ll have to call in and let them know where to reach me,” Symone said. “Can I give them your phone number Jys?”

“Sure,” she answered. “I’m in a hovercar, and it’s kinda doubleparked fifty shakra over Bourbon Street at the moment, so I’d better go get it down. I have to turn it back in anyway, so I have to go. I want you two at my house in an hour,” she said sternly, pointing at Jason and Tim. “Where are you parked?”

“The garage off Royal,” Tim answered.

“Well then, I suggest you wander in that general direction,” Jyslin stated.


It hadn’t been easy for either of them to relax.

Jason walked along Saint Charles absently in the already stifling July heat, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground, and lost in thought. Last night had been rather tense, because Jason just couldn’t put what was going on out of his mind, and for that matter, neither could Jyslin. She’d been forced to resort to a sleeping pill to make Jason sleep, and it had left him feeling groggy and hazy in the morning... the reason he never took drugs unless he had absolutely no other choice. And for him, with what he could do, feeling like he wasn’t in full and complete control at all times was a scary proposition.

One stark reality hung over his head, something he had realized that morning. The physical. It was the semi-annual physical, conducted on all students every July and December. That was next week. Well, one segment of the standard physical, unless they’d changed it, was a brain scan. There was a very real possibility that the standard signature of his brainwaves was now different because he had no talent the last time they did one, but he did now. And if that girl who expressed had them spooked, they might pay much closer attention to those scans than they usually did. The usual reason they did them was to catch certain diseases and mental disorders very, very early, before any symptoms appeared, and treat them. Things like schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, disorders that humans had always either treated with drugs or could do nothing about, those the Faey could treat with their much more advanced medical technology, or sessions of telepathic treatments conducted by what they called “psi-surgeons,” telepaths who specialized in using their abilities to treat mental or psychological disorders.

Concerned. That was such an understatement. The more correct word would be terrified. He’d seen how they reacted to that girl, whose name he still didn’t know. What would they do if they found out he was also telepathic, that there were two humans with the talent? That wasn’t a fluke, that was a pattern. What would they do to him? And how would that change how the Faey treated the human race as a whole? Would they take him to Draconis and fix him, reprogram him to be obedient and faithful, then train him to be a spy and unleash him on the rest of the galaxy? Would they crack down on the humans of Earth, weed out the latent telepaths from the rest of the population and fix them too? Or maybe just dispose of them, since a block of telepaths on a planet that still wasn’t totally assimilated into their Imperium would represent a serious threat to their control?

The more he thought about it, the more worried he got. That made him agitated, and that caused him to be more aware of his own power, and his endless need to keep it under total control at all times. He was as much a prisoner of it as he was a prisoner of the system, possessed of a wondrous gift that he truly enjoyed, but forever denied the freedom to use it as he wished he could. He did enjoy having talent. He really did. If he didn’t love it so much, he’d have quit Jyslin long ago, the instant she taught him enough to keep it a secret. But he had wanted more, wanted to learn how to master this ability, and was well on his way. He was solid on hiding his power, was competent in sending (though he had much more to learn and much practice was needed), and he was good in the fundamental basics of attack and defense. He wouldn’t be defeating Jyslin in a telepathic duel anytime soon, but at least he could protect himself from her long enough to run over and punch her, which would disrupt her concentration. He wanted to be a telepath, and everything that it entailed, but he didn’t want to be able to openly enjoy that gift if it meant becoming even more the slave to Empress Dahnai and the Faey Imperium. But, at least he found acceptance with Jyslin, and when Jyslin wasn’t there, with Symone. It was a small thing, but never failed to make him happy.

Telepathy. It was the cornerstone of the Faey’s hold over Earth, even more than their overwhelming technological advantage. With that weapon hanging over them, the human race could never, ever, break free of that control. It could not be prevented, it could not be countered, and it could not be defeated. Having an MPAC in one’s hands and pointing it at a stark naked Faey did no good if that Faey could simply use her telepathic abilities to prevent one from pulling the trigger. It was the only weapon, the only advantage, that the Faey needed. If they wore woven grass skirts and used thighbone clubs as weapons, they would still hold the advantage over the human race.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

God, how he hated admitting that to himself. All his life, he had always been able to do something about anything that got in his way. He didn’t want to go into foster care, so he got himself emancipated. He couldn’t afford college, so he got a scholarship. It wasn’t until the Faey came that he had truly understood what it felt like to be helpless, to have no control, to be subject to the wills and wants of someone else.

To be a slave.

His father... Jason chuckled. His father would have picked up a slingshot and went after the Faey if that was what it took. He was such a brave man, even after he got cancer. He’d fought to the bitter end, no matter what the odds were, exhibiting that ferocious tenacity for which the Fox family had been famous. Sometimes, Jason had believed that his father would beat the cancer if only because he just absolutely refused to die. But in the end, his father’s body just gave out, and his will just couldn’t keep everything going all at once. It hadn’t been a lack of will or spirit, it had been the weakness of the flesh that had finally caused his father to succumb. Even at the end, his father had recited the last words of Captain Ahab from Moby Dick, “from hell’s heart, I stab at thee... with my last breath, I spit on thee,” and then he died. Not “goodbye,” not “I love you Jason,” but a steadfast declaration of defiance that even though the cancer had conquered his body, it would never defeat his spirit. He had been fearless.

His father had been a man.

Certainly not like his son was. Meekly accepting that which he hated because he was afraid. Afraid of death, afraid of losing his position of relative comfort... of losing Jyslin. Yes, he had to admit to himself, that was now a factor, as much as he hated to say it. Jason Fox, admitting that he didn’t want to lose his rather weird relationship with a Faey. The guy who refused to be friends with some Faey that he would really like, if not for the color of their skin, the shape of their ears, and the government that controlled them as much as it controlled him. He was such a hypocrit. His father would be so disappointed in him. It would have never been rejection of him or hatred of him, but he would certainly be disappointed.

Jason stopped in front of the Burger King, and realized he’d walked almost all the way down to the West Bank Expressway. He sighed and moved to turn around, but a tiny sign hanging from a streetlight stopped him dead in his tracks. It was made on a piece of spiral notebook paper, in crayon. It looked to have been done by a 10 year old.

It was a flag, with only seven stripes and a bunch of dots done in white crayon for stars on ragged blue. And under that were these simple words:

Don’t forget July 4th. Happy Independence Day.

Jason looked at it for a long time, then reached up and pulled it down. It had been put there by a child, a young boy or girl who hadn’t been afraid to tape it to a streetlamp, despite strict no-posting laws instituted by the Faey. The fourth of July. It had come and gone, and he had totally forgotten about it. It reminded him of the last Independence Day he’d had with his father, wheeling him around in a wheelchair in Portsmouth, a city on the border between Maine and New Hampshire. They’d just come back from Boston for the Pops Goes the Fourth concert they held out at the harbor. They were at a Shell station, the Pathfinder was still fueling up as they came back from the bathroom, and his father was chattering on excitedly about how good the concert was, how they’d managed to synchronize the fireworks with the music so perfectly, then he sighed and chuckled and said that his mother would have been there playing... that she was there playing. That was the first time that Jason had heard anything like that from his father, and Jason knew at that moment that his father was going to die. He did die, three weeks later. He remembered that moment, not the concert, not anything else, because they’d watched a black 1962 Cadillac convertible go by with New Hampshire license plates, and his father had pointed and said “that’s why I’ve always liked New Hampshire, son. They don’t mess around.”

The motto on a New Hampshire license plate: Live Free or Die.

Live free, or die.

Damn right.

He was so tired of being afraid. Damn tired of it. Afraid of being found out, afraid of losing Jyslin, afraid of being with her, afraid of what he would end up doing after he left school, afraid of compromising his principles. Afraid, afraid, afraid. He wasn’t living, he was existing, existing in a continual state of fear... which was just what the Imperium wanted. Be afraid, stay timid, accept everything because you’re too scared to do anything else.

Well, Jason Fox wasn’t going to be frightened anymore. He was going to be what he wanted to be, he was going to redeem himself in the eyes of his father. Oh, there was nothing he could do about the Faey, and his father would probably disapprove of him throwing his life away. But he could honor his father by doing what he would have expected him to do.

Live free, or die.

Jason carefully folded up that ragged little piece of paper, put it in his pocket, then turned around and marched back the way he came. His strides were long and confident, and his expression was one of both relief and resolve. He knew exactly what to do. The Faey didn’t own the entire world. There were certain places, places where squatters and outlaws roamed, the wild forested areas where the Faey had allowed things to go back to nature to maintain the planet’s ecosystem. The Appalachian Mountains and the forests extending to the west of them were uninhabited areas, at least officially. But everyone knew that there were people there. Squatters, survivalists, outlaws, people who had refused to accept the yoke of the Faey conquerers. Those were the people who had chosen to live free or die, and they remained in those forests, surviving the best they could, living day by day on whatever they could hunt, scrounge, and keep. The Faey didn’t bother them, leaving them to their own designs, so long as they didn’t interfere with the Faey. They had shunned the rest of the world, sacrificed everything just to be free.

That was what he wanted to be.

He would lose Jyslin. He would lose his life of luxury. But he would have his freedom... and there could be nothing that could ever take the place of that.

He was back at Tulane before he knew it. He walked briskly up to the steps of the dorm, past a couple of girls who were talking, and towards the door. A burly fellow that looked like a football player came out the door, then snorted and blocked it. “Well, if it ain’t the blueskin’s bitch,” he sneered.

He didn’t say another word. A single blow to the nose sent the man flying back into the foyer, and he lay there, rolling to and fro and groaning with both hands covering a broken nose, as Jason boldly stepped over him. “Have a nice day,” Jason grated as he went straight for the stairs.

He forgot that he gave Tim the key to his room, so he simply kicked in the door. The loud BANG made every occupied room’s door open, and they watched as Jason Fox calmly moved a large piece of door out of his way, then waltz into his room as if he’d done nothing unusual. He reached under his bed and pulled out his backpack, then opened his locker and dumped a drawer of clothes onto the bed. He realized that it wasn’t big enough, so he piled all the clothes he could get on the bed, then pulled the blanket’s corners up and tied them to form a makeshift bag. He used his backpack for what few personal effects he had, pausing for a moment when he took the picture of his father off the pegboard over his desk. He smiled, then tucked it safely away. He then reached under his bed again for a small suitcase, and started filling it with those tools and pieces of equipment which belonged to him, things he’d paid for with his own money. He wouldn’t take so much as a coaster if it was something that the Faey had supplied to him. His money was his, even though it was paid to him by the Faey, because it had come from the fact that his ideas had been used to help people. That money was clean money, as far as he was concerned.

“Shee-it,” Tim said with a grating chuckle. “You know, you could’ve come up and got the key.” He looked at the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” Jason said brusquely. His panel’s display started flashing, and the device started beeping, warning him of an incoming call. Jason grabbed it, and without blinking an eye, threw it at the closed window. Tim flinched as the sound of breaking glass washed over them, and Jason’s panel sailed out the window and down out of sight with a shower of glittering glass.

“Holy shit, you’re serious!” Tim gasped. “Are you out of your mind? Where are you going to go? You know they’re going to drag you back here!”

“They have to catch me first,” Jason said, pushing him towards the door so he could get back to his locker.

“Shit, Jayce, it ain’t no reason to go bonkers or nothin’,” he said. “Jyslin said there wasn’t nothin’ more gonna happen on campus. Don’t flip out.”

“I’m not flipping out,” he said. “I just realized something a little while ago, Tim.”

“What?”

“Live free or die.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Just what it says,” he declared, punching a moleculartronic toolkit into his suitcase. He’d paid for that, damn it, it was his. And he was taking it. “I won’t be afraid anymore. Not of the Faey, not of me, not of what I can do, not of what the Faey would do if they knew it, not of anything that I can do something about. And damn it to hell, I can do something about being a good little slave to the Imperium. So I quit.”

“You can’t quit! They’ll send you to a farm!”

“Big fuckin’ deal, and keep your voice down,” Jason snapped, then glanced at the broken door and lowered his voice. “Work here, work there, assemble circuit boards, pick corn, it’s all the same. Do your job, pretend that it matters, delude yourself into thinking that you’re happy because you’re afraid they’ll fix you so you are happy. No matter how much money I could make as a technician, I’m still just that sorry son of a bitch out in Iowa picking corn. I just have a bigger room and no callouses on my hands.”

“Don’t do this, man,” Tim pleaded. “Think about what you’re about to lose.”

“What the hell am I about to lose?” Jason hissed in a low but intense voice. “My cushy little job as a Faey lapdog? No thanks. Jyslin? Yeah, I’m gonna miss Jyslin, I really like her, but she’s not worth it if I can’t look myself in the eye in the mirror when I wake up every morning. But I’ll tell you one thing, Tim McGee, I have a hell of a lot more to lose by staying here than I ever do by leaving.”

“Like what?” he shouted.

“Like my pride,” Jason said in a seething tone. “Like my self respect, like my freedom! I’d rather die in a gutter a free man than live to be a hundred knowing that I’m nothing but a cog in the wheel of the Imperial machine,” he said with remarkable calm and control, zipping his backpack shut. “If you keep screaming, you’re going to tip off the others about what I’m doing, and I won’t have the time to get away. So, kindly get your ass out of my way,” he declared flatly, picking up his makeshift bag of clothes.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you-”

The rest of that declaration was lost in a wheezing “whuaaff!” as Jason planted his foot solidly in Tim’s belly. The dark-haired man literally sailed out of his room, across the hall, and then slammed into the door on the opposite side. It split in two under the weight of the impact, and Tim spilled into Angie Harmon’s room, blood flowing out of his nose as Angie screamed in shock and outrage, scrambling to grab the towel on her bed to cover the fact that she was nude. Jason stepped out of his room with his backpack over his shoulder, a bag of clothes in one hand, and a small suitcase in the other.

“Later, Tim,” Jason said from the hall. “I’ll call you when I get to my campsite. Er, you tell him that when he wakes up,” Jason told Angie after realizing that Tim wasn’t going to be coherent for a few minutes. “By the way, might I say, damn, woman,” he said with a sly smile and a wink, looking her up and down.

Angie blushed furiously, but did give him a smile.

“Call me if you ever need a date,” he remarked as he walked back towards the stairs.

Everyone who was in their room was now at the door, and they watched Jason march past with strangely respectful eyes. Jason had his chin up, his shoulders back, marching into the dark realm of uncertainty with dignity and courage. He went down the stairs and to the foyer, then stepped back over the man who had accosted him earlier, who was still laying there groaning, holding his bloody nose. They were following him, filing out of the dorm behind him as he went to the student parking lot, towards his beat-up old Corolla, shimmering in the hot summer sun. He threw the bags in the trunk, dropping them on top of the duffel that held his prototype, then slammed it shut. That was when he saw them all, standing there, staring at him silently.

“Time for a vacation,” he called to them. “I’ve been feeling a little stressed lately.”

“You think?” someone called with a laugh. Then, for the oddest reason, they all started clapping and cheering. He had absolutely no idea why.


Certainly, Jason wasn’t stupid enough to just drive off without some understanding of harsh reality. He was planning on going to a lawless area with no real supplies or provisions, so that had to be addressed. He had a plan, a simple plan; he was going camping. He was going to outfit himself for a camping trip, and as far as the Faey were concerned, he would simply vanish during his trip. If he did things right, they’d never find him, because by the time they realized he was missing, he’d have too much of a head start. It also held the dual benefit of allowing him to buy everything he needed to do this, since camping equipment was exactly what he’d need in order to set up somewhere.

He made a few stops on the way to his destination, buying nonperishable food, camping supplies, and after he got to Bell Chasse, he went to the Base Exchange and bought some extra gear, including one more little piece of equipment that might be useful to him later on, and something he could get nowhere else.

Guns.

The clerk almost had an apoplexy when he demanded a PK-319 metaphased plasma rifle (the hunting version, with an energy output that wouldn’t make the target explode from the plasma) and two AM-10 plasma pistols, along with enough PPGs to power them to last him five years. But his thumb on the reader showed her he had the money, and there wereno laws against him buying weapons, not even as a native. Anyone could buy anything in the Faey system... they just had to have the money for it. She did try to probe him almost the entire time, but he put up a false front of buying them as a birthday present for his Faey girlfriend, whose relationship with him was the reason he had access to the BX in the first place.

He also bought a new panel to replace the panel he threw out the window, one that didn’t have a tracking device in it like his school panel did, and a personal cell phone to handle communications with the outside world, one of the generic ones. They’d be able to track him if he used it, but he wanted some way to talk to Tim and Jyslin if it was needful. They might just send a search team, or train sensors in his direction, because they didn’t know he was running. As far as they’d know, he vanished during a spontaneous camping trip. That story would even let him keep his airskimmer, if he could find some way to hide it once he got to a place he liked. They’d have no idea what happened to his skimmer, and he really didn’t care what they believed. He bought two pair of hiking boots in the BX, plenty of spare socks and underwear, and even remembered to buy a fully equipped first-aid kit. Everything a camper would need for a trip to the woods.

He made one more stop, at a bank, where he withdrew C10,000 from his account and took it as hard currency.

He had everything he needed now. He drove over to the flight line and parked his car by his most prized possession, his airskimmer. He spent maybe a half an hour transferring his gear into the skimmer, then parked his car in its space, just like normal. He even locked it and took the keys, since Tim had keys to the car. He climbed up the steps and into his skimmer, than sat down in the pilot’s chair. He ran his hand along the display, then gripped the control stick gently. He knew keeping it was going to bring them on him, but he didn’t care. It was his, he bought it, he owned it, and he was keeping it, damn them, even if he never flew it again. If it brought them to him, well that was too bad for them. He fully intended on parking it somewhere, some parking garage in some abandoned city or getting it under some trees, so long as it couldn’t be seen from orbit, so it would be there if he needed it. He might even live out of it, he didn’t know yet, but he’d be damned if he gave it up. He wasn’t going to be afraid of the Faey anymore. If they wanted to come after him, then they were more than welcome to do it. But Jyslin and her Marine squad had discovered how dangerous it could be to keep coming after Jason Fox.

With a cleansing breath, he turned on the radio. “Tower.”

“This is tower.” It was Mari, a controller he knew rather well. “Hey Jason.”

“Hey Mari. I’m requesting clearance for take-off.”

“Destination?”

“North,” he said. “I don’t have a set destination yet.”

“Gonna go wandering again, eh Jason?”

“Something like that.”

“Let me call it through,” she said, and there was a long pause. “Ok hon, I got you cleared up through Cleveland. You’ll get passed off to Montgomery control,” she answered. “I’m showing no flight restrictions under 50,000 shakra or low-flying traffic along a northern vector between here and the hand-off point, so you’re clear, but Montgomery’s got some heavy traffic right now, so they’ll probably have some local restrictions. Just stay under 50,000 and you’re in the green.”

“Got it. Local?”

“Hold for local traffic. About three minutes. We have a freighter dropship inbound.”

“Understood,” he said as he started the skimmer’s enginges, hearing that familiar high-pitched whine hum under his feet. “They got the cruisers doing recon today?” he asked casually.

“The Duchess is visiting, so they’re all probably busy with that protocol shit,” she said candidly. “The Duchess loves to inspect the warships, you know.” He’d forgotten that the Duchess Trillane herself was here, in the orbital station that controlled space traffic over the planet. She probably had a host of warships along with her personal ship for protection, but they’d all be too busy right now worrying about her than they would be worrying about a single airskimmer who was flying an approved flight plan.

A hovercar screamed onto the tarmac, racing towards him. He glanced at it, but paid it little mind. He was inside, the door was closed, and he was about 90 seconds from lifting off. He finished his preflight checklist and glanced out again, then felt his heart seize a bit when Jyslin jumped out of the hovercar, with Maya getting out of the driver’s side. Jason Fox, you idiot! she boomed at him with a powerful sending. Tim called me! Get your ass out of that skimmer right now, do you hear me?

He looked at Maya, then flipped on the external speaker. “No,” he answered bluntly. “It’s been real, Jyslin. I really enjoyed it, and you’re about the only thing making me regret this. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in fear all the time, I can’t pretend that I can live like this anymore. I’d rather lift off this tarmac and get blown out of the sky than live one more day under the Faey. I have no idea where I’m gonna go or what I’m gonna do, but damn it all, I’ll be free. And that matters more to me right now than anything else in the world.”

Jason, do not do this! They will come after you, don’t you understand that? You’re not just any other student, you’re a candidate for research! You’re too valuable to just let you walk off! If they catch you, they’ll reprogram you, or worse!

You don’t seem to understand, Jyslin, they won’t start looking for me until a few days after I miss my physical, Jason told her with an edge to his mental voice, sending tightly so Maya wouldn’t hear it. I’ll have at least a week’s head start. They’ll never find me.

Oh, they won’t. I will. You think I’m gonna just let you run out on me? You’ve got another thing coming, buster! You can’t hide from me, Jason Fox!

You’d better calm down and shut up before Maya realizes that you’re open sending and not sending to someone without talent, Jason snapped at her tightly. Maya already had confused eyes, looking at Jyslin like she was trying to convince herself that she was wrong about what she was thinking.

“Local traffic is clear,” Mari called over the radio. “You’re clear to take off, Jason. Have a good one, hon.”

“Thanks Mari.” I’m not going to vanish, he told her. I have your phone number. I’ll call you. I, I’m sorry to run out on you Jyslin. You were the only thing holding me here, but I’ve had enough of sacrificing my honor because I want to be with you. It’s time to start living up to my principles instead of compromising them every moment of every day that I stay in the Faey system. But I won’t be a stranger to you, I promise. As long as you and Tim keep your mouths shut, they’ll think I vanished on a camping trip, and I can keep in touch with you. It’s only if you start spouting off at the mouth that you’ll get me in trouble. Think about that. With a light touch on the controls, Jason urged his precious skimmer into the air. The skids lifted off the tarmac, and he looked through the windscreen down at Jyslin. He regretted leaving her, but she was one of the reasons he had to go. Staying with her would just make him more and more a Faey slave... and he just couldn’t live like that. It wouldn’t be her fault, not really. He’d just want to be with her, and to be with her he’d have to compromise his principles more and more every day as he got out of school, took his final training, became a part of Faey society, became a part of the Imperium. He just couldn’t do that, not if he wanted to become the man he wanted to be.

So, it was time to go. Time to be the man his father would be proud of, time to be what he wanted to be, no matter how much it cost him.

To be free.

Jyslin, however, didn’t look like she was going to be quite that forgiving. She turned and reached into the hovercar, then came out with her plasma rifle. He saw her clearly bring it up and disengage the safety. Jason had a brief moment of panic; she was going to shoot him down! He scrambled to raise the ship’s shields, though they’d do very little against a metaphased plasma weapon... only shave about ten percent of the power of the plasma off, the part of the metaphased plasma that matched the state of existence of the shield. His skimmer’s hull had no reinforced armor, that plasma rifle would blow holes the size of garbage can lids all through his ship. Are you crazy, woman? Jason sent frantically as he tried to turn the ship so she couldn’t hit his engines. If you hit the engines, you’ll blow us all to hell!

Jyslin didn’t seem to care. She raised the barrel of her plasme rifle, and Jason had a moment of terror where he realized that the only way he was going to save his ass was if he tried to subdue Jyslin with telepathy. That, or open fire on her with the airskimmer’s defensive weaponry.

But Maya reached over and put her hand on the top of the rifle’s barrel, and then gently started pushing it down. Jyslin glared at her murderously, but the serenely calm look on her face, with just a hint of disapproval, seemed to take the fight out of her.

Now I understand exactly what’s going on, Maya sent openly, which both of them clearly heard. She looked right at him, and gave him a sly, slight smile. Be more careful from now on, Jason, she warned. That was an open send. Now I understand what brought you two together, even though nobody in the squad could understand why Jason would do such a major about-face and go from hating Jyslin to being her beau. You, Jason Fox, have talent. And unlike that girl yesterday, you’ve had it for quite a while. Probably since that night at the opera, I’d wager. Jyslin saw what the rest of us missed, and she got you out of there, got you someplace safe. And she trained you, didn’t tell anyone about you, because she likes you and she didn’t want the Imperium to hurt you. She knew what the Imperium would do if they knew about you.

Jyslin gave Maya a strangled look. Now it was really over. Maya would go straight to Lana, and both Jyslin and Jason were in big, big, big trouble. The only recourse they had was for Jason to land and bring Jyslin along, because they’d probably make her wish she was dead.

Well, far be it for me to rat on a friend, she sent with gentle eyes. Go on, Jason. You’ll be much safer wherever you’re going than you’d ever be here, because I’ll bet my breastplate that the Imperium won’t consider this girl to be an isolated incident. Even if they do, that’ll change the instant another human expresses talent, which I’m sure will eventually happen now. You never need worry that they’ll ever hear of it from me. Me and Jyslin, we’ve been together too long, and besides, if I weren’t married to Vell, I’d probably have done the same thing. You’re worth it hon. Just don’t forget that I exist. I expect a phone call from time to time, she said with a wink.

Maya, Jyslin started, her mental voice anguished, upset, showing her raw emotion.

Hush, girl. We’re partners. You’d think I’d give up our friendship when I agree with what you did in the first place? We’ll only get in trouble if we blab. You intend to suffer a bout of conscious and confess?

No!

Well, Jason, you intend on coming home and revealing yourself?

Hell no, he answered immediately.

Well, we’re all perfectly safe then, she reasoned. So, you get going, Jason. I suggest you keep your skimmer powered down unless you need it, and hide it in a cave or inside a tall building. Faey sensors can pick up the plasma signature from something as big as a skimmer from orbit, no matter where you put it. Not unless you encase it in a very heavy metal, like corbidium. Burying it under a few hundred standard tons of stone will block their sensors from detecting it by its metal signature. If worse comes to worse and you can’t find a good place to park it, just park it under a large bridge. The bridge’s sensor signature will hide the skimmer well enough that only a master sensor officer specifically looking for it is going to find it.

I’ll remember that, he promised, looking at Jyslin. I’m sorry, Jyslin. Don’t be too mad at me.

It’s too late for that, she growled back at him. But if you’re dead set on this, may the Trinity keep watch over you. And if you don’t call me soon, you’ll regret it.

Jason chuckled audibly. Keep her out of trouble, Maya.

That won’t be easy, but I’ll do my best, she replied with a smile. Never forget, Jason, you do have friends here. Don’t forget us, and don’t hesitate to think of us when you need us.

I’ll remember. Thanks Maya. Jyslin... behave. The tone of his sending betrayed the simple words. It held within it all the regret he felt leaving her, all the worry of the danger she might be in because of him, all the concern he had for her, and it contained all of his feelings for her, his true affection for her, concern for her, maybe even a little bit of love for her. But it also contained all the nervous excitement at the prospect of chasing a dream denied to him for years, to find that which so fundamentally made up what he was that it defined his very soul. He was going to find something that meant as much to him as life itself, the only thing that could ever convince him to leave Jyslin, the one thing that he had craved since the day the Faey appeared and had been denied to him.

Freedom.

It was a very uncertain path he had chosen for himself. He was going into the unknown, and he was leaving behind him the possibility that his past would search him out, try to hunt him down. But it was worth it. It was all worth it. Jason was willing to die if that was what it took, just to taste freedom for one single day, to stand on a hilltop and watch the sun rise and know that for that moment, for that fleeting moment, he was the master of his own destiny, he was the one that controlled his fate. The only thing he came close to regretting was leaving Tim, Symone, and Jyslin behind. But they couldn’t follow him. Tim wasn’t ready, Symone needed Tim, and Jyslin was part of the system, no matter how she felt about it. He wouldn’t forget about them, and he wouldn’t break contact with them, but they could not go where he was going. Maybe someday, much later down the road, but not now.

Right now, he had some maps to look over, to find the best place to set down. He didn’t look back at Jyslin as he brought up the throttle and left them behind, then put the skimmer on autopilot and brought up the planetary maps, looking for a destination. It had to have access to a good-sized abandoned city, so he had scavenging opportunities, but not one so large that it was going to be swarming with squatters. It would help if it was beside a large river, to give him a bridge to park under temporarily until he found something better. It would help if the city itself was designed in such a way that he could quickly get from that bridge to a forest, for cover. And he’d prefer that location to be somwhat close to Faey territory, probably within a hundred miles or so, so he could make forays into “civilization” for emergency supplies if it was necessary. That was what the hard cash was for.

Here. This place had most of what he needed, and was ideally located. Huntington, West Virginia (or what used to be West Virginia). It bordered the Ohio River, and the maps showed that it had three bridges spanning it. The city wasn’t that large, built as a long strip nestled up against the river, meaning that he had to go no more than a mile traveling north or south to clear the city and get into forested wilderness, but, it was large enough. It was probably picked over fairly well, but some of the things Jason would be looking for probably wouldn’t be seen as too valuable to most squatters. The city was about seventy miles from the bright red line on his map that marked the border of patrolled Faey territory. They had many farms out in Ohio, out where the foothills petered out and the land became flat and fertile. On an airbike or in a car, that wasn’t far at all. He’d have to be careful until he got the hang of crossing that border, but he didn’t plan on doing that unless he had no other choice.

That was where he was going. He punched up some information on the town, accessing old archives that the Faey had absorbed from the United States. It had once been a manufacturing town and important railroad junction, but like most American cities in the `80’s, `90’s, and the early `00’s, it lost its manufacturing plants to overseas competition. The city had had a large university, Marshall, and had still had a metal smelting plant in operation before the subjugation closed it down. The city was located in a valley formed by the Ohio River, and the land of that region was dominated by rolling hills and thick forest.

That was very good. Access to scavenged goods, cover and concealment, relative proximity to Faey territory, and the opportunity to hunt. He’d never really been hunting before, but he’d better learn.

He glanced back at his railgun. It was a good thing he had the scope he’d meant to mount on it in the box of junk he’d brought from his room. With that scope on it, he’d be able to sit on hill and shoot the deer on the other. All he needed to do was see them; anything he could see using that thing, he could shoot... no matter how far away it was.

He had a destination. He had the supplies. He had the will. He had a plan. He was ready.

It was time to live the dream.

Chapter 6