Soulwalker (4 page)

“Oh…” He hesitated. “I… I’m sorry to hear that, child. I hope it’s not serious.”

Damn…
Now she had the old man worrying about her. “It’s fine. I’ve lived with it all my life. I know my limitations, and that”—she pointed to the spot next to him—“is past it.” The forlorn look on his face made her continue. “But if you would like to join me for a walk, I’d be grateful for your company.” His aged features creased into a grin. She had appeased him, and somehow that made her happy. A few words, and she had made someone happy. Strange.

She reached down to him and felt the fragile strength in the hand at her wrist. Some power still existed in that ageing body. Tarris wondered what her body would be like at that age, if she lived that long. Science had extended human longevity to a ridiculous degree. Older ones, aged way past one hundred and twenty, still survived, the flesh far weaker than the mind that controlled it. But Tarris sincerely doubted she would ever reach such an age. The nature of her job would prevent that.

They strolled along one of the pathways that threaded through the mammoth park. “So, Tarris, still have no one in your life?”

“Nope, and I doubt I ever will.”

“Ahh, if I were forty years younger, girl, it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

The heat from the faux sun beat down on them. Beads of sweat broke out on Tarris’s brow and upper lip. That was about as much sun as she could tolerate on her white skin at any one time. “Darmen, could we move over to that pathway?” She pointed to another path that wound through the trees, where the overhanging branches broke the light into dappled patches.

“You’re looking a little red-faced, Tarris. I was about to suggest that same thing.”

“This damned skin of mine won’t take too much sunlight.”

“Say no more, little one.”

Little one?
One dark eyebrow rose at him in question. He looked down into her dark eyes and smiled.
Oh…

“I’m not that small,” she muttered. One of the advantages of living alone was that she didn’t have to measure herself against anyone else. She was who she was, and that was all that mattered.

Darmen laughed loud. “Big of heart, my friend. Big of heart.”

Tarris smiled back.
Yes, big of heart…

Her mind returned to the past when one particular incident shaped who she was now. Big of heart. It was that big heart of hers that changed her comfortable life to living life on a knife-edge. She had no trouble remembering what the weather was like…

It was raining. Always raining. Rya shifted easily through the darkened side streets, a shadow within a shadow. It was all so easy then. Confidence and a sense of righteous indignation ruled Tarris’s life. The victims were flaunters of the law and needed to be dealt with. Cold, efficient, and without feeling, she carried out hits with military precision.

This particular operation involved an Administrator. What had the man done? A hit on an Administrator was unheard of. He was one of the Council, one of those who had control over her unit. His crime against the Union must have been great indeed.

Tarris had been given the assignment because of her status and power. She knew where her strength lay, and she used it without prejudice. As Rya moved through the building that housed the Administrator, Tarris lay quietly and idly noted the abundance of wealth that was on display. So the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Nothing had changed in the last few millennia.

Eerie white shapes filled her ghostly vision as Rya moved silently through the rooms to search for her targets. The first door didn’t move when the shadowed form slid in between the cracks and returned to substance on the other side. Stealthily, she moved forward, the death of the humans inside already complete in Tarris’s mind. Just as Rya was about to strike, Tarris stopped her. Confused, Rya sought out her twin.
Why?
The word was presented as a random thought, with no substance to the word, but Tarris understood it just the same

No!
Tarris screamed in her head.

Why?
Rya repeated.

Look. She is but a child… a baby.
Her targets before were men and an occasional woman, adults who had knowingly broken the law. But a baby was an innocent, and Tarris just couldn’t take that innocent life.
Check the other rooms. Do not kill any of them yet.

Rya did as she was commanded and slipped easily into each room in turn. This was the man’s family: three small children and his wife. Tarris had been ordered to kill the man’s family. Where was the justice in that?

Return…
Tarris whispered.
Return.
Without question, Rya returned to Tarris.

What was going on? They had never targeted children before. Tarris had to know what the man had done to warrant such a harsh punishment. She dressed as quickly as she could and ventured out into the night. It had been a long time since she had tasted the night air. She took a weapon with her just in case of ambush. No matter when you lived, there were always those who prowled the streets at night in search of victims. She had seen them through Rya’s eyes on many occasions.

She avoided using a taxi; no one could know what she was about to do. She needed to talk to the Administrator without arousing anyone else’s suspicions. It took some effort to make her way to the front door of his building. Leaning heavily against the wall, Tarris sent Rya in search of her victim.
Find the Administrator. Bring him to me.

There was never any doubt in her mind that her warrior would succeed. The door opened, and Rya held a middle-aged man who stared at Tarris. “We need to talk,” she said as she pushed past him, “somewhere secure.”

Maken Derille was in a daze, but Tarris knew he recognized who she was. “I think we do,” he said.

Rya, put him down and return.
Tarris closed her eyes momentarily as she felt the shift along her skin. She nodded to the Administrator and silently followed him to what looked like a study. She closed the door and stood there while he took a seat.

“Administrator Derille. I assume you know who I am, or at least where I come from.” He nodded but offered nothing more. “I do not kill children, sir. Why do they want your family dead?” she asked bluntly, not one to dance around the issue.

“I’m not sure.”

“What have you been discussing recently that would give your fellow administrators cause for concern?”

“It’s none of your business, soldier.”

His effort to maintain some kind of control of the situation was all too late. That Tarris was there demanding an explanation had already stripped him of any power. “Sir, they want me to kill your children. It has now become my business. I want to know what you’ve done to deserve this.”

“So you’re going to be my judge and executioner, is that it?” He appeared angry at her impudence.

“That is what you do every day, sir. It seems it’s now your turn.”

“I don’t have to answer to you.”

“But you do, sir. I hold the future of your family in my hands. You know very well what I’m capable of, but I’m giving you a chance to plead your case.”

He had nowhere to run. She had shown him her Shadow Warrior and what she was capable of. He had no choice. “We had recently been discussing extending the scope of your unit, soldier. I had some concerns about the change in policy.”

“That’s pretty vague, Administrator. You haven’t changed my mind yet.”

He sighed deeply. “The Council is trying to increase its power. This was just the start. Your unit would eliminate the serious threats to society. They wanted to extend it to include political adversaries and threats to the Council.”

Tarris was not a stupid woman. “I see.”

“Can you see where this was heading? Soon the Council would be all-powerful, and the Union would become a dictatorial state.”

“Why does it worry you? You’re one of them.” He was an administrator with a conscience? That was as absurd as… as a soldier with a soul.

“Yes… yes, I am. But a few in the Council really are working for the good of the people. Strange I know, but we do exist. We have to be the voice of reason and try to keep control of uncertain situations.”

“You’ll get no help from SBSC, you know that.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the feelings of discontent within the ranks.”

“It’s a dangerous path you choose, Administrator.”

“Please, call me Maken.”

Tarris knew he wanted her to move her opinion a little toward the middle so they could find common ground.

“You obviously have some doubts, soldier. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here and my family would be dead.”

“The only doubt I have, sir, is killing children. They have done nothing wrong but be born to you.”

“True, but what future do they have if the Council instigates this action?”

Tarris could feel the beginnings of a headache. This was too much information to absorb in the middle of the night. She had no time; she knew that.

“I would say think on it, soldier, but I know you have to report tomorrow about the mission.” He paused. “What is your decision?” he asked almost hesitantly.

“Are you so quick to know your fate?” Tarris snapped. Her hand rose to her brow, and she rubbed frantically across the skin in frustration. “This is a dangerous road you’ve put me on, Administrator Derille.”

“You’ve put yourself on that road, soldier. I’ve only shown you what’s up ahead.”

“Don’t use your political oratory on me, sir.” Angrily, Tarris paced the floor. Why had she been put into this situation? Was it a test of her loyalty, or was it nothing more than another assignment? She was being forced to make a decision she didn’t want to make, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to kill the children. “All right! All right. Get your family out of here tonight. Tell no one. You hear me? No one! Not even the house staff. To you, and the world, they are dead.”

She turned away, to be stopped by a large hand. “Thank you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t kill us all.”

“Your name,” he asked.

“It’s better not to know.”

“Please… your name,” he asked again.

“Tarris… Tarris Waite.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, mentally preparing for her death even then. This was going to have ramifications, she just knew it.

*   *   *

Tarris’s walk to the meeting the next morning was long and arduous, both physically and mentally. Her moment of truth had arrived. Would the deception hold, or would she be facing her death? Her heart beat wildly as she stepped down the dark corridor toward the conference room.

“So, blue eyes, how’s your sex life going?” Corman taunted. Raucous chuckles filled the air as Tarris walked into the room. She was close to adding one more kill to her list.

“Probably better than yours, Corman.” The tall, thin albino turned to face his cohorts, his angry look silencing their laughter.

“No one could have a worse sex life than you, Tarris, unless they were dead.”

Rule Three in her Survival Handbook: Don’t go into a battle angry.

She tried to hold onto that rule in her head, but Corman had a way of circumventing all her good intentions. She stepped up to her adversary, the force of her personality making up for her lack of height. She was upset with herself because she was about to break one of her life rules. “What is your problem, Corman? My death not coming soon enough for you?”

“Can’t you take a joke, woman? Sheesh.” Somehow he made it sound like it was Tarris who had the problem.

“Certainly, if it’s a good one. This one has gone way past tasteless to downright sick.”

“Hey! I’m not the one who’s a cripple.” He stared angrily down at her.

“Listen, you sick bastard, that has to be the lowest thing you’ve said to me. When I get my legs back…”

“Get your legs back?” He laughed loudly, and those around him joined in the joke. “You were a cripple, you are a cripple, and you always will be a cripple.”

“And yet I’m still the leader of this group.” Tarris felt a tingle along her skin; Rya was also feeling anger at the slur. Corman took a step back and lowered his gaze to the floor. Tarris could make him feel her power when he stood so close to her. He couldn’t defeat her fair and square, so he attacked her psychological weakness.

“Corman,” the Monitor said, “please stay behind after the meeting.” Tarris knew Corman hadn’t expected to be overheard, but it seemed that he had. Now he would have to grovel.

“Take your seats, soldiers.” After several moments, the meeting began. “Tarris, report.”

“Four hits accomplished, Monitor.” It took all her strength to keep her composure. It was foreign to her to tell a lie, and yet here she was doing just that. This was one time where Rule Four didn’t apply.

Rule Four in her Survival Handbook: Lie as little as possible so you won’t get caught later on.

“The Administrator has already released a statement. It seems he has arranged a private disposal of the bodies.”

Bodies.
That sounded so… cold, coming from Derille. Not even “dearly departed” or “his family.” Bodies. Nothing more than immobile flesh and bone. She only hoped when her time came that she was more than just a body to those left behind. Tarris looked around those seated at the table. Maybe not.

She tried to appear unconcerned about the turn of events, because she knew very well that she was being scrutinized for her reaction. To overcome her anxiety, she glared at her fellow soldiers, turning her passive stance to one of aggression. “What are you looking at?” she growled.

“Iddy biddy kids, eh, Tarris?” Corman said.

“Yeah, not even a real quarry.”

“Silence! It was a special assignment from the Council itself.” Corman was suitably shamed. A special assignment was only for the elite, a class he had not yet reached. Tarris had been blessed by the Council with a rare honor.

“Sorry, Monitor,” Corman mumbled.

“She had four targets, and you had but one. You have a lot to learn yet, soldier.” The disembodied voice expressed some anger, something it had not had to do in a long, long time. “Everyone dismissed. Tarris, you will be contacted when the next meeting is.”