Lost and Sound (2 page)

Four weeks between acceptance and liftoff had been mind numbing, but her mother had come around to the cachet of having a daughter as a member of the Citadel.

Yllin had posed for pictures with the other recruits, and her mother now put the image in a place of pride next to her siblings’ graduation photos.

She sat nervously with the other recruits in the shuttle. Their pilot spoke gently, and as the ship lifted off, she looked out the window for one last time.

Her family was watching from the VIP area, and she tried not to wave as the ship took her further and further away from everything she had known.

She held her breath and let it out in a rush when her world got smaller and smaller while her potential was suddenly unlimited.

“Your name is Yllin, isn’t it?”

The man next to her smiled brightly, and she felt a pressure on her mind. She closed her thoughts and inclined her head. “My name is Yllin.”

“I am Trobie. My family was sitting in your section at the restaurant on Mikkada Street. You were the best server we have ever had.” He gave her a condescending grin.

“Ah, the Moringale party.”

He seemed pleased that she remembered. “Yes, my family was hosting a fundraiser for High Prefect Gerocard’s favourite charity.”

She nodded. She hadn’t been able to get out of serving that night, so she had pretended to not be her father’s daughter.

Trobie proceeded to tell her how well off he was and how his family was one of the highest in the country.

He grinned. “So, what was the most memorable part of the fundraiser for you?”

She could tell that he wanted it to be his handsome features, but she had to answer, “Well, if I am honest, it was the lousy tip. Normally that many people are a good night, but I took home half wages for all my efforts.”

“Well, we were doing it for charity.”

“And so you would take the poorest-paid citizens and pay them even less. That makes total sense.” She raised an eyebrow.

He blushed and turned to speak with the woman on the other side of him. She was properly appreciative of his high status.

Yllin propped her head on her fist and stared out at the stars. Her contract with the Citadel stated that as soon as she became profitable, ninety percent of her funds would be returned to Missambra and her sponsoring of girls getting into trades, as it was now. She worked so they could work. It seemed a fair cycle.

Her parents had let her set up the fund as long as she kept their names out of it, so she worked jobs during school and banked all the money. Two years ago, she had begun her program, and it had put two dozen women into trades that they had been unable to train in because of financial restrictions. Helping them get an education fulfilled something inside her.

The trip took twelve hours. They were taken to the galley in groups of four for the meals. Working the in-flight lav was tricky but, apparently, good practice for the Citadel itself.

Yllin interacted with the others, but once they learned she was not a psychic talent, they became arrogant and turned their noses up at her physical talent. The other physical talents were older than she was and they held themselves apart, completely.

She didn’t blame the other physical talents. Their world did not respect them, and it was easier just to pretend that they didn’t have anything special about them at all. Eventually, they would begin to believe it, but the Citadel had come calling before that happened. They had the aspect of people in a dream, terrified that they would wake up.

The pilot and the recruiters were friendly enough, and the time passed swiftly. When they arrived at Citadel Ohkhan, Yllin filed into line with everyone else for the initial medical checks and were called by name into the scanner.

“Yllin Gerocard.” The medic smiled and beckoned her forward.

Yllin winced, and she heard several of the recruits gasp. She paused and turned to them. “We are all novices at the Citadel. The social positions we held on Missambra are gone and your family cannot help you here. This is about you and what you choose to do with your life. I am choosing the Citadel.”

The medic raised her brows and smiled in approval. Her rich amethyst skin and wide silver eyes made her bald scalp elegant and the gills on her neck almost invisible.

“Come with me, Novice Yllin.” The medic led her behind the partition and the scans began.

When the scans were over, Yllin was handed a bodysuit in gleaming white with a robe that swung from shoulder to ankle in a wide vest. A hood was attached to the neck and she flexed her hands, stretching until the suit was comfortable.

“There is a greeter waiting for you, Novice. You will be shown to your quarters and then brought to your orientation meeting. From there, you will receive your class list and begin your instruction at the Citadel.”

“Thank you, Medic…”

“Loria.”

“Thank you, Medic Loria. You have been most helpful.” Yllin followed the directions to the greeter and waited while the rest of the Missambra were scanned and suited up.

The gathering fidgeted until they were trooped into the tower and shown to their respective quarters. Yllin did what she always did and she used her talent for making maps in her mind to pinpoint her quarters.

Her bags were next to the bed, and she left the room quickly, meeting the others in the atrium that connected the halls.

She focused on keeping herself calm while her mind was scrambling with excitement. She took a scan of the nearby area, and the other novices were just as nervous as she was. Heartbeats were pounding and blood was surging. She could hear it all.

The bodysuit had built-in boots that made no noise when they walked. As their group gathered and was herded to the orientation, Yllin got the impression of nervous ghosts walking through the novice centre of the Citadel Ohkhan.

They sat through an introduction to the Citadel that reinforced what they already knew. All that they needed to live and learn would be provided by the Citadel on credit, and when they went on assignments or took up teaching or work around the base, they would earn that money back.

The only exceptions were those who had been courted by the Citadel or who had funds donated by the Alliance or Imperium. Private families could not make things easier for their children.

Yllin had the satisfaction of seeing Trobie pale.

Each novice was given a data pad, and when they looked into the scan point, it opened with their personal schedule.

Even if she lost her data pad, what it contained could only be unlocked with her ocular scan. It was a bit of a relief.

When the orientation of what was expected of them was over, they were assigned to their primary instructors.

The psychics were clumped in groups of four, which left the physical talents with one instructor each.

Master Kibor was her instructor, and he had the physical appearance of a kindly old man. She learned that he was only a decade older than she was, but his species aged more rapidly.

He was out to get every moment he could out of life, and if that meant spending his golden years as an instructor, he would make sure that she was in the best condition of her life and her talent would be honed to a keen edge.

They met and shared their goals for her education over tea. She poured and he smiled at her with a wistful look.

“If I were only a decade younger.”

She smiled gently. “You would still be fading just as I come into my full glory. That would not be fair to either of us.”

“I suppose, but it will warm my nights to dream of it. Now, I have lined up fight instructors for you. You and I will work on expanding the range of your talent. Wercor mentioned that you were equipped with knives?”

“I usually carry one, but I can’t think of where it would go on this suit.” She smiled.

“We will include knife and other weapons training in your schedule. If you would like to work on your talent today, we can grab one of the labs and you can tell me what you see. I want you to be able to tell the difference between textures and densities.”

Yllin smiled. “I can already do that. I worked as a waitress so I can tell the difference between different types of wines using my talent. The viscosity is different. It also works for drinks that have been tampered with. No one was ever drugged at a bar on my watch.”

He blinked. “That will speed things along. I get the feeling that you will be wearing the clothing of a Specialist by the end of the week. How did you gain this mastery?”

“I practiced. For the last two years, with the exception of a stay in hospital, I worked at a restaurant and used my skills every day. I got used to feeling out a room the moment that I entered and identifying everything occupying it. It has become a reflex. Shutting it off is usually the problem.”

His eyes lit up. “Then that is what we will practice. Personal shielding is just as important as a strong and nimble body.”

She grinned. “You are my instructor. I will do as you say.”

He winked. “Pour some more tea and let’s talk about what you need in a battle suit. Despite your grace and appeal in the robes, I believe that your skills will be more useful if you are active and not a passive member of the Citadel. That is where we are aiming your training.”

He lifted his arm and his robes fell away from his wrist, showing a small recording device.

She bit her lip. “Can I learn to fly a shuttle?”

He grinned. “I will add it to the list.”

Yllin smiled and sipped at her tea. She had an instructor who would help her attain her goals, and her main focus was to get earning as quickly as she could.

There were folk depending on her, and the money in her trade fund was going to run out in less than six months. She had until then to get earning.

The simulator kicked her ass, and as it followed on the heels of her physical training, it was a very effective way to get the feeling of returning home from a rough assignment.

“You are still dropping the nose on takeoff, Novice. Get the nose up and pull hard. You can aim it straight upward and not crash it, but for someone with spatial awareness, you really suck at takeoffs.” Specialist Nearing was sitting with his feet up on the navigator’s side of the cockpit.

She reset the system and tried again. This time, she took a flash image of the area around her and then ruthlessly folded her senses in. The takeoff was textbook and Nearing applauded slowly.

“Finally. I have never seen someone as thick as you were when it comes to figuring out that they need to shut down their talent to fly.” He chuckled and watched her run through the simulation.

“You knew that that was my problem?”

“Of course. Sensory talents always overthink things. You were going nose down because we put a crevice in the middle of the view screen. Your senses were going crazy trying to find it so your hands followed.”

He leaned forward, and they went through a simulated jump.

Yllin kept her senses in tight, and she cruised through without a problem. It was so simple. An entire week of fussing behind the simulator after two weeks of theory and she had cracked it.

“Now land.”

Yllin checked her coordinates, the ground under her and took the ship down, using her talent to locate the tarmac as she eased them in for a perfect landing.

She wanted to squeal and clap her hands, but instead, she shut the simulator down and looked at Specialist Nearing. He was the same species as Master Wercor. The scarlet skin looked good with his copper hair and creepy black eyes.

“What is next, Specialist?”

He grinned. “Lunch. This apple was not enough for me. What kind of ship would you like to learn next? Azon, Imperium standard? We can try you out in all of them, but with the controls and the standard instrumentation you have mastered, I think you should be able to fly anything.”

“A riot runner?”

He blinked. “I guess that is a different type of flying. Sure. I will get the simulator set up for riot runner.”

She fought clapping her hands. Her palms were still raw from the knife training. The wooden hilts tended to blister her hands when she was working with them for hours at a time.

Specialist Nearing got to his feet, and he helped her to hers. “Let’s eat first. You have been working hard, and if you don’t take care of yourself, no one else will. Many of the species believe we don’t need to eat. You have to get used to insisting on it when you need it.”

“I have gotten used to turning hunger off. It isn’t good for a server to have a growling stomach.”

“Useful skill but stupid.” He led her out of the vast room filled with the simulators and steered her down the hall to the food court.

“Stupid?”

“If you are on active assignment, you will need to carry your rations and water with you with enough for three days. Even if you just need one or two meals per day, it is far better to have them with you than it is to risk contamination by microbes that you are unused to.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well, all right then.”

He chuckled. “You will get the hang of it. I am certain of it. It isn’t complicated when you understand what you are dealing with. Like the rest of your recruitment group, this is your first time away from your world. It takes getting used to.”

“How did you get used to it?” She grabbed a tray and started loading it up.

“Practice. You will forget now and then or not want to ruin the line of your suit with the bulk of packs, but the slight loss of dignity is well worth the security of knowing you have what you need with you.”

Yllin nodded and followed him to a table, settling in across from him with a sigh of relief. She flexed her hands repeatedly before she picked up the wide-based spoon and started to eat.

“Your hands are bothering you?”

She shrugged. “Knife practice.”

He winced. “Are they still using those nasty wooden hilts?”

“Yes.”

“You know that they are roughened just to build grip and calluses, right?”

She kept eating. “I figured that out after the first week. I got a cream from medical and it lets the skin thicken without getting rough.”