Ultimate Warriors (11 page)

     
Memo

     
To:
Mindteacher, Dean of Discipline, Head Trustee, Calante Academy,
Central
City

     
From:
Visionchaser, spokesman for the trustees, Calante Academy, Central City

     
Date:
June 15, 2052

     
We
heartily agree with your analysis of the situation. The trustees are unanimous
in their decision. Soulchaser is to be brought to the academy to begin his
training tonight. We cannot risk a repeat of Empathen’s loss. Use whatever
means you find necessary to secure the boy before the Grellan can strike again.

     
End
trans
.

* * * *

     
Julien
startled awake as his mother cried out in fury and frustration.

     
"You
can’t," she protested. "I have two more years. The law says—"

     
"You
know he can’t stay here, Patrice," a strange man insisted. "How will
you protect him? He has Empathen’s powers and more. They know that."

     
"Then
take me, too."

     
"You
know I can’t do that. If you were an operative— I can’t let a human live inside
the main complex. That’s why your quarters are outside the wall."

     
"You
won’t break that rule, but you’ll take him early?" she asked
sarcastically.

     
The man
sighed. "You would have to leave the main complex in two years. How would
we explain it to him then? How would we explain you being there to the other
cadets now? The jokes would start tonight. The mighty Empathen’s son needs his
Mommy to come with him? Children can be very cruel, Patrice."

     
Julien
snuck to the bedroom door, daring to peek at the man from the academy — the
operative they sent to try to take him from his mother. His heart pounded at
the sight of the grim-faced old man. Julien looked to his mother’s tortured
expression in dismay. She was considering it. Patrice was actually considering
handing him over early.

     
Please,
don’t agree. Don’t let him take me. Julien bit back a sob as he felt her
wavering.

     
"He’s
my son," she managed through trembling lips. "He’s my only
child."

     
The old
man took her hands. "You will lose him either way, Patrice. This way, you
know he’s safe. If he stays here—" He let the threat hang between them.

     
She
nodded. "You’ll bring Julien to see me? Promise me that much."

     
He took
her shoulders in his hands, nodding. "A guard detail will bring him once a
month and accompany you where you wish to take him. You have my vow."

     
"What
—
What
is my son’s name?" she asked solemnly.

     
Julien
shook his head in disbelief. His name— The name chosen for him when he was
tested at the age of three would be spoken for the first time tonight, two
years ahead of schedule.

     
"Soulchaser."

     
Julien
shivered. If they were really taking him to the academy, he’d heard his true
name for the last time until he found a confidant. No one dared speak a power’s
true name unless he or she was invited to do so, and his parents never would.
That was the law.

     
The old
man chuckled. "Come, Soulchaser. It is time to go."

     
"That
is not my name," he replied stubbornly. "It will not be my name until
I turn ten. That is the law."

     
The door
opened, and the man stared down at him, amusement curving his lips into a cruel
smile. "Are you inviting me to use your true name?" he asked
pointedly.

     
Julien
felt his cheeks burn. He glared at the old man. "No. I don’t trust
you."

     
"That’s
good. People should earn your trust."

     
"That’s
not what my father says," Julien groused. "He says to trust your gut
instincts about people." I don’t trust you. But, Empathen was dead. Word
had come to them that afternoon that his father had fallen in the line of duty.

     
The
man’s smile disappeared. "Your father trusted the wrong person. That is
how he died. You should remember that."

     
Julien
didn’t answer that. How could he argue that a power like Empathen should never
have let a Grellan get close enough to kill him? Why would Empathen let down
his guard?

     
"On your feet, Cadet Soulchaser."

     
He
cringed as he rose. I am not Soulchaser. I am Julien Cross. No matter what name
I answer to, I will never forget who I am. He met the old man’s eyes.
"What is your name — sir?"

     
"My
name is Mindteacher, but almost no one calls me that, as you will soon
learn."

     
"They
use your true name?" Julien asked dubiously.
Surely not.
There was too much power in knowing an operative’s true name. The law said—

     
"No.
They call me ‘the old man.’ People have always called me ‘the old man,’ even
when I wasn’t one."

     
Julien
scowled, unsurprised by that discovery.

     
"Say
goodbye to your mother, Soulchaser. You will see her next month."
Mindteacher laid a hand on Julien’s shoulder.

     
Julien
stilled, meeting the old man’s eyes as Mindteacher’s thoughts coursed into him
like a waterfall. In the moment before he yanked his hand away, Julien learned
a lot about Mindteacher.

     
The old
man blamed Jake for his own death. Mindteacher thought of Empathen as Jake,
though he didn’t trust Jake any more than Jake trusted Mindteacher. The old man
knew everyone’s secrets. He was the academy Dean of Discipline and the Head
Trustee. Julien laughed aloud as Mindteacher’s true name settled in his mind.
Then the connection was gone.

     
Mindteacher
motioned to the doorway. He waited for Julien to turn to it before he nodded to
Patrice. "Next month," he assured her.

     
A chill
coursed along Julien’s nerves and he grasped his mother in a fierce hug,
abruptly certain that he would never be permitted to see her again.

* * * *

     
Memo

     
To:
Visionchaser, spokesman for the trustees, Calante Academy, Central City

     
From:
Mindteacher, Dean of Discipline, Head Trustee, Calante Academy,
Central
City

     
Date:
December 20, 2055

     
No account
can be made for the sudden cessation of hostilities. One can only assume that
the Grellan are plotting our end, but what new means they have discovered
remains to be seen. Our operatives report less and less signs of the Grellan in
and around all cities over Suraden. Training has been stepped up. Be ever
vigilant, my friend. Millennia of fighting will not end so easily.

     
End
trans
.

     
Assignment
Status

     
To:
Soulchaser, Unit Leader, Unit 1255, Central City

     
From:
Fire Mother, Communications Center, Calante Academy,
Central
City

     
Date:
March 12, 2064

     
Report to Tower 1022, quarters 13 N 17.
Use extreme caution.
Reports of Grellan activity in abandoned quarters.

     
The old
man says he thinks it’s your group again. Take care, Soulchaser. Serve well.

     
End
Trans.

     
* * *

     
Julien
stared at the woman before him. She was
his own
age
with auburn curls that cascaded over her shoulders. She was also naked. She was
always naked.

     
She was
so familiar that Julien could note every curve with his eyes
closed,
the pink scar above her left breast, and even the tattoo of the Siberian tiger
on the back of her right shoulder. Julien recognized her scent, something of
musk and Jasmine, and the touch of her mind. The one thing he could not do was
name her.

     
She
strode toward him, her hips swaying in invitation. Her hand stroked Julien’s
rising cock through the gray cotton of his over-cover. "I knew you would
come," she purred.

     
"Why
me?" he asked.

     
"Only
you will see the truth," she whispered, her fingers tracing the head
straining against his clothing.

     
Julien
took a calming breath. He should stop her, but he needed information. As
maddening as her touch was, he had to know why she was here, and that wouldn’t
happen if he put her on the defensive.

     
"Come
to me without your unit," she requested again. She’d made that request the
last three times he’d encountered her.

     
"Why?"
Why would she want to talk to him alone? What purpose could there be in getting
him isolated and unprotected?

     
Her blue
eyes sparkled under dusty red lashes. She pulled his hand to her breast, laying
it over the hard nipple.

     
Julien
bit back a groan, fully aware that the other members of his unit could see
everything his physical body did and hear every sound he made aloud. "What
is your name?"

     
"Promise
you’ll come to me alone."

     
The
softness of her breast teased his palm. She shifted, brushing the point of her
nipple against his sensitized skin.

     
"If
you promise to come to me alone, I will tell you my name
.."

     
"Next time.
I will arrange it next time," he
promised, already working out how he would make that happen.

     
She
leaned toward him, laying a kiss on Julien’s lower lip. "They call me
Starseeker. My name is Angel."

     
"Angel?"
She trusted Julien with her true name. Was that intended to prove that she
wanted his trust, that she trusted him? Did the Grellan think there was
anything special in a true name? Was it a trick? Julien wished he knew for
sure. "When will I see you again?" It had been almost three weeks
since he had seen her last.

     
The hand
on his cock stroked harder.
"Soon."
Her
essence faded away, leaving only her haunting scent to tease him.

     
Julien
took a shuddering breath and forced his eyes open. The glass of the mirror,
only slightly warmed to his touch, made a mockery of the memory of Angel’s skin
beneath his fingers.

     
He took
another deep breath, separating phantom strands of Angel’s scent from those of
her unit, one so close to hers that the man must be a relative.
A brother, perhaps?
His essence spoke of youth — but of
infirmity of some sort, a feeling of not being whole.

     
"And?"
Firebrand asked impatiently. As always, his
incendiary nature reached from his powers to his personality. "Come off
it, Soulchaser. Give me information."

     
Julien
shot him a quelling look, reminding Firebrand silently who the leader of their
unit was. He nodded as the new operative blushed and looked away. It wasn’t
unusual for a power to forget that Julien was a unit leader. Operatives didn’t
typically graduate to the field until they were eighteen, and it generally took
them five years in police service with human suspects until they moved on to a
unit or to a position in research or administration. There, only the strongest
and most capable were made leaders.

     
Julien
had never been the typical power. Taken from his mother at the age of eight
instead of ten, he finished his training at sixteen. He spent three years
working the police beat before the old man let him move up to the units, but he
was granted his own unit within two months. Julien was in complete control of
his unit. He alone chose his unit members and gave them orders outside of the
initial assignment order.