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 ou