IV
By the time they got to the gym, it had been set up for thedemonstration; it held a translucent-walled structure that Corinarecognized from descriptions as a combat practice module, its wallsopaque from the inside. To her dismay, there was an audience; off-dutycrewwens lined the gym walls. An audience, she thought, was the lastthing she needed now--but there was no help for it; she would simplyhave to do her best in spite of them.
Then she saw Greggson and five others in Marine black standing slightlyapart from the spectators. She recognized Dawson, and three of theothers were as big--but the fifth, little taller than Corina herselfand seemingly as slight of build, she recognized as by far the mostdangerous. The pale-eyed, dark-skinned blonds from Subsector Sandemanwere the product of major genetic engineering, particularly theirwarriors. They had a number of advantages over standard humans, butthe only ones she needed to worry about right now were their greaterstrength and speed. Maybe Greggson was right after all. Talent wasimportant, but it certainly was not the only factor; she knew betterthan to underestimate Imperial Marines, and when one of them was aSandeman warrior--
She broke off that line of thought abruptly. If she kept it up, theMarines would have no need to defeat her; she would do it to herself.Calm and control, as Valla and Thark had told her repeatedly, were thekeys to victory. She and Medart joined the waiting group.
"My men have been briefed, Ranger," Greggson said. "And they havestunners, not blasters, so . . . Sir Corina . . . won't be hurt." Heturned to her. "Unless, of course, you'd rather call it off."
Corina's self-doubt was turning into determination under his scorn."No, thank you," she said quietly. "I will continue."
Medart smiled briefly at her, then turned to Greggson. "Get off herback, Colonel," he said. "You can join the spectators; I'll set up thesituation for them."
Greggson obeyed silently, and Medart turned to the team leader. "Thismay be a demonstration, Major Dawson, but I want you to treat itexactly as you would a real security alert. You've just gotten word ofan intruder, probably armed, and you're checking the ship." He turnedto Corina, touching a control beside the module's entrance. When thewalls turned opaque, he said, "You're the intruder, of course. Go onin the module and pick yourself a spot. I'll give you time for that,then send them in and turn the walls back to one-way."
"Yes, Ranger." Corina did as she was told, picking a spot near the farend, a location that had several connecting corridors. If what she'dread about search procedures held true, the team would split into twopairs, with the fifth person keeping several meters behind to back upwhoever needed it. Her best bet, if they separated widely enough, wasto take out one pair and the backup, then the remaining pair. If not,it would probably be best to try for the standard humans first--assuming, as seemed most logical, the Sandeman was backup--which wouldleave all her attention free for him.
She closed her eyes, taking her soul-blade and its sheath from herbelt, and scanned for other presences as she would if she were enteringhostile territory. Despite the distractions of the crowd, she quicklysensed her five opponents--and got an unpleasant shock. Three weretotally unshielded, and Dawson's screen was so weak it would offer himno protection--but the fifth had a shield as tight as any she'd everfelt. She shook her head in brief amazement. Four shielded humans inthe perhaps three hundred she had mind-touched since coming aboard, andThark insisted he had met no Talented humans? But then the Emperor-classcruisers did have elite crews, and three of the four were Commandlevel--that must be significant, somehow.
But this was no time to worry about theory. She had been almost rightabout her opponents' formation; two were coming down secondarypassages, the fifth--the shielded one, and she learned from Dawson thathe was the Sandeman--was coming down the main corridor. There was noway she could defeat them conventionally, but she had known that fromthe beginning--and this was to be a demonstration of the Order'spotential; her Talent, not her blade-work, was necessary. So sheshould try for the standard humans first, with darlas.
In training she'd always been able to see, as well as sense, heropponents; although she had been told her Talent, like Thark's, wasstrong enough to make visual contact unnecessary, she wasn't sure shecould concentrate well enough without it. Considering thecircumstances, however, it was worth trying; she chose Dawson, focusingher Talent on him with what felt like the right degree of intensity toknock him out for roughly an hour.
To her surprise and satisfaction, her attack was just as effective andnoticeably less difficult than in her practice sessions; she sensed theflash of Dawson's pain, then his loss of consciousness. It was easy torepeat the process with the unshielded three, and it was good to knowthat her training had been so effective--but she knew her mostdangerous opponent remained. And even Thark's darlas couldn't penetratea shield that strong, which left TK, weak as hers was, her only realweapon.
She waited tensely, a meter back from the main passageway, as heapproached. He was quiet, his steps barely audible, but she didn'tneed that to place his relative position. He stopped just short of thecross corridor, then entered swiftly, in a crouch, his stunner ready tofire--but he was looking to his left, away from her, and that gave herthe time she needed to push the stunner's powerpack release and, as itfell, spring at him with her sheathed blade coming to rest at the angleof his jaw, close under his ear.
To her surprise he grinned at her, raising his hands. "I'd call thatconclusive advantage, Sir Corina," he said. "With abilities andreflexes like that, you should've been born Sandeman--I'm LieutenantNevan DarLeras. Welcome aboard."
Corina replaced the soul-blade at her belt and stepped back, returninghis courtesy with a bow. She'd read about Sandeman ethnocentrism, andknew he meant his words as a compliment, so she said, "You do me honor,warrior. I am pleased to meet you; I hope my victory has notdishonored you or your fellows in the eyes of your shipmates."
The Sandeman chuckled. "Hardly, with powers that were only legenduntil you proved them. The others are all right?"
"They are unconscious and they will have painful headaches when theywake, but other than that, they are fine."
"Only because it was an exercise, I'd say." Nevan picked up thepowerpack, replaced it in the stunner, and holstered his weapon. "MayI ask a tactical question?"
"Of course."
"In that case, why did you knock them out and simply remove thepower-pack from my stunner? I would have expected you to use yourstrongest ability against me."
Both looked toward the entrance as they heard footsteps, and saw RangerMedart approaching. When he joined them, he said, "I'd like the answerto that one myself."
"I did," Corina replied. "Although it would be more precise to saythat I used the strongest of my powers he was vulnerable to. Hisshield is strong enough to protect him from an attack directly againsthis mind; were it weaker and this not an exercise, I could breakthrough, injuring or killing him. However, even the best shield doesnot protect from physical effects, so I was able to use TK against him.Had this been actual combat, I would have attacked him instead of hisweapon, but a ruptured blood vessel in the brain is too permanent for asimple demonstration."
"It is that," Medart agreed, pleased and a little surprised at whatsounded like she might be attempting mild humor. "If this were real,then, you're saying all five would be dead."
"Yes. Although had the warrior Nevan entered the corridor facing rightinstead of left, the result would have been different."
"But he wasn't." Medart nodded to the Sandeman. "You can go back towhatever you were doing, Lieutenant; I know you're not on watch rightnow."
"Thank you, sir." Nevan bowed to Corina, then left.
Medart gave Corina his full attention. If he hadn't just watched herdo it, he would have found it almost impossible to believe one small,delicate-looking student could defeat five Marines at all, much less doit so quickly and with so little apparent effort. Her demonstrationdidn't make the actual threat any worse, of cours
e; it just made themagnitude of that threat a lot more apparent. The White Order was asmall group compared to the rest of the Empire, but with that type ofpower, it wouldn't take many of them to cause a major disruption.Especially if they selected their targets carefully, which Medart hadno doubt would be the case.
He'd better find out her potential as soon as he could, he decided. Ifshe wasn't Ranger material, best to know it right away and go fromthere; if she was, she should be wearing the badge. It was a demandingjob, but he enjoyed the challenges, and so would she if she had what ittook--which he found himself hoping she did. "That was a veryimpressive demonstration, Sir Corina," he said then. "I think you andI need to have a serious talk. Let's go to my quarters, where we won'tbe disturbed."
* * * * *
Corina settled into the armchair Medart indicated, her legs curledunder her, and accepted the glass of milk he offered. He had soundedquite somber when he had mentioned the demonstration, and had beensilent on the way here, but there was something in his attitude thatgave her the impression of hope, as well.
His first question startled her. "Have you given any thought to whatyou're going to do with your life, now that you've gone against theWhite Order?"
All she could do for a moment was look at him. Finally she said, "Ihave hardly had time to think about that, Ranger. I suppose I willreturn to my original ambition, which was to attend the ImperialMilitary Academy; being a naval officer appears to be the mostpractical way for me to explore the Empire while being of service toit."
That was promising, Medart thought--very promising. "I don't mean torush you," he told her. "I have a couple of ideas on that line myself,so I'm naturally curious, but I don't need to know right this second.You're welcome to stay aboard the Chang until you make up your mind,either as my assistant or simply as a guest."
Corina was puzzled--what ideas could he possibly have about herfuture?--but all she said was, "I thank you for your kindness; I doneed time to adjust."
"Probably less than you think, from what I've seen." Medart seatedhimself, taking a sip of coffee. "Tell me about yourself."
Corina made a gesture of dismissal. "There is little to tell, I fear.Until my Talent was accidentally discovered four years ago, I led anormal, quiet life. Afterward, I received training in how to use it,as well as going to tertiary school. Though my Talent was late indeveloping, it was strong enough for Thark to take an interest in meand supervise my training until he took it over completely. Otherwisethere is nothing notable."
"That isn't exactly what I meant," Medart said. "I was thinking moreabout things like how you get along with your family, how you feelabout other people, that sort of thing."
"Again, there is nothing truly unusual. I moved to MacLeod's Landingwhen my Talent was discovered, to make my studies under Thark possible.The Order, as is customary, was supporting me until my initiation, aswell as providing tuition for my advanced schooling. I remain gratefulfor that, despite what I now know of them. My parents and I get alongwell enough, though we are not close. We simply have very little incommon. The same is true for my other relatives, including mysiblings."
"What about other people?"
She laid her ears back in what Medart recognized as a frown. "That isdifficult to explain. It is not that I have trouble associating withothers, because I do not. More and more, however, I find myselfreacting as an observer rather than as a participant, especially inpurely social gatherings. That disturbs me."
Better and better, Medart thought; that was a pretty good descriptionof the detachment a Ranger needed to maintain impartiality. "Don't letit," he advised. "I feel the same way most of the time myself; it'snothing to worry about. You said you'd planned to go to the Academy;do they do pre-testing here?"
"Yes." Corina allowed herself a brief purr. "I did well enough toreceive conditional acceptance by the main Academy on Terra."
Medart raised an eyebrow. "Not bad, though I wouldn't wish Test Weekon my worst enemy. Emperor Chang, query the local comps for thoserecords, please, and send me a hard copy."
"Yes, Ranger," the ship replied. "It may take some time, however."
"By morning will be fine. Medart out."
Corina stared at him, then decided she had to ask. "Why are you sointerested in me?"
"Isn't it obvious? You're my assistant, at least for now, and I needto know a lot more about you than your name."
Corina wished she could probe him, but his shield made that impossible.His interest, she was certain, was greater than normal about a simpleassistant--especially when he had mentioned having a couple of ideasabout her life-plans. But she had been raised to trust Rangers; ifthat was all he thought it wise to say, it would be best not topersist.
Medart grinned at her. "You want more, but you won't ask. That'sgood, since I don't have the answers just yet. Why not let me callSunbeam up here, get her to take you to supper, then both of you relaxfor the evening? We can talk more once I've gone through your records,and I expect to have a war conference after that, when you'll have toevaluate whatever you know about Thark for us."
* * * * *
Medart had been too keyed up by the young Irschchan's demonstration toeven try sleeping normally. Two hours on the sleep machine gave himthe equivalent of a good eight hours' rest, though, and by 0100 he waskeying the service panel in his cabin for a cup of coffee, strong andblack, plenty of sugar.
He gulped half the cup, scalding his tongue in the process, then sippedat the rest, thinking about her and making plans for the day. Firstthing to do was check her records, then report his findings to theEmperor. From what he knew of her already, he fully expected thosereports to be favorable.
He finished the first cup of coffee, then checked his delivery slot,finding Chang had accomplished its mission; the slot held a hard copyof Corina's records, complete with summary. He got a second cup ofcoffee, taking it and the printout over to his work area.
Several hours passed as he studied those records with growingsatisfaction. The more he read, the more promising Corina Losinjlooked. The only flaw he could find was in her psych profile; itshowed a lack of self-confidence. Medart wondered at that, because shecertainly didn't lack ability. Still, self-evaluations werenotoriously inaccurate--and for his current purpose, too littleconfidence was better than too much.
Finally he stood and stretched, easing muscles cramped from sitting inone position too long. His next step, he decided with some amusement,would have to be getting rid of that coffee!
That accomplished, he returned to his work area and switched hisdisplay screen to communications mode. It was 0800 by ship and Palacetime; the Emperor would be in his office by now, so Medart accessed theImperial priority band, then the Emperor's private comset.
The response was prompt; Davis' face appeared within five seconds."Morning, Jim. What have you found out?"
"She looks promising, sir. Very promising. I talked to her a bit lastnight, and I've just finished going over her records. They're damngood. IQ in the top tenth percent, personality profile stable Class I.School grades above average but not spectacular--her teachers attributeit to boredom from lack of challenge, even in the advanced classes--andshe's a generalist. Independent work is widespread and good; she didone paper on Imperial administration that should be turned into ahandbook. And she's already taken the pre-Academy tests. Top level,of course; she qualified for the Academy at the Complex. Which iswhere she plans to go, now that she's not committed to the White Orderany longer."
"Typical pattern for a Ranger, all right," the Emperor said with asmile. Then he turned serious. "How many potential Rangers are wemissing? The gods know we need every one we can find! Anything else?"
"She's lacking self-confidence, but that's the only negative thing Isaw. As for missing others, there can't be too many we would miss,even on Irschcha. Anyone with the right personality pattern is certainto try for the Academy, and tha
t degree of ability will get them toTerra--unless they're stopped by something, like the White Orderpre-empting anyone with Talent."
"Mm." The Emperor looked dissatisfied. "Not much we can do aboutthat, though. You're satisfied that Sir Corina is fully qualified?"
"No question in my mind. Yes, sir, she is--maybe more so than the restof us, with her extra Talent abilities. She demonstrated them veryconvincingly yesterday afternoon." Medart described the previous day'sexercise in full detail, then shook his head. "It was almostunbelievable. Five Marines, with one of them a Sandeman warrior."
"And you saw it," Davis said. "If Chang made a tape, I'd like a copy."
"We didn't expect much, so I didn't order one, but somebody else mighthave. Emperor Chang?"
"Colonel Greggson has all such exercises taped for analysis, Ranger. Iwill send His Majesty a copy."
"Thank you. Medart out."
There was a brief silence while the ship sent the tape and EmperorDavis watched it. When his attention returned to Medart, he echoed theRanger's headshake. "I see what you mean, Jim. It's a good thingshe's with us, instead of the Order. Do you think you can get her tojoin?"
"With that lack of self-confidence, I doubt it."
"Considering the rest of what you've just told me, she'll get overthat. Ask her to think it over, at least. It's possible that justknowing we think she's suitable will do the trick.
"At any rate, I want a conference with you, her, and Chang's CommandCrew later today. We need to get more information from her, and wealso have to do some planning. How about 1600? If you can't talk herinto it by then, Rick and I will give it a try."
Medart nodded. "That sounds good, sir. Considering the time zone shelived in, she's probably still asleep; that'll give me a chance to goover her records again, maybe find a good talking point."
"Good enough. I'll talk to you again at 1600, then. Out."
The screen went blank, and Medart picked up the printout, carried it tohis favorite armchair, and sat half reading it and half sunk inthought. Her lack of self-confidence was the real problem, all right;it was hard enough convincing someone who had a normal amount, and notalways successful at that.