Sector 1 - Axis
Argus Wade
Maven sat in front of the terminal aboard the warship Eisle, stunned by the report she was receiving and trying hard not to laugh.
“They did what?”
“They hijacked the train,” Alexander Robertson explained on the other end of the connection. His voice was terse, expression worried. He thinks I’m going to be angry, she realized. He doesn’t realize this is the greatest news ever. “And they captured your sister, who was the only passenger on board. We arrested them, of course.”
“What, why?”
The man’s expression quickly became guarded. “Technically, they failed the test you set out for them. They did not arrive back at the Academy of their own—”
“Wait, wait, I want to hear more about my sister again,” Maven said. “So, they hit her in the back of the head, tied her up, and turned her over to you?”
Alexander looked uncomfortable. “She did not tell us she was coming in advance of her visit or we would have warned her of your test.”
“Oh, I warned her,” Maven said.
“The engineer said that when she showed up in town, she was quite persuasive and unwilling to listen to suggestions.”
Maven finally broke down, laughing and clapping her hands. “That is the greatest thing I’ve ever heard. Oh, my sister must be furious.”
“She has not awoken yet,” the old man said, running a hand over his gray beard. “Shall I notify you when she does?”
“No, no,” Maven said. “Just stick her back on the train and send her home. Drug her if you’re worried she’ll wake up early. I’ll deliver a report to Darius that her mission was a complete success.”
“What shall I do with the, uh, students?” Alexander asked. “The ones who failed the test.”
“How many made it back?”
“Five,” Alexander replied. “The others perished in the wilderness. But the three that arrived by train technically did not abide the rules you set forth—”
“A non-issue,” Maven said, waving her hand in dismissal. “I consider kidnapping Alyssa to be a complete success!”
“Very well,” Alexander said. “We will begin training immediately.”
Maven clapped her hands again, excited. “I look forward to future reports.”
They disconnected the call, and Maven burst out laughing. She fell out of her chair and collapsed to the floor she was laughing so hard. She couldn’t shake the image of Alyssa tied up in the back of the train with a bag over her head. How that must have infuriated her pompous ass-kissing sister.
She couldn’t wait to speak to her about it. At length. Many times. Alyssa would want to have the students killed, of course, but Maven knew it would not be a hard sell to convince the Council otherwise. After all, the students had effectively dealt with Alyssa even when they were wholly unprepared for her mental abilities.
How useful would they be with adequate training?
2
Jayson was asleep within ten minutes of the train stopping.
Alexander Robertson met them outside. If he was surprised to see the train rolling to a stop in front of his Academy, he didn’t show it. The three bedraggled passengers stumbled out into the cold wind and snow flurries.
Richard was immediately shuffled off to the infirmary, and Tricia went with him. That left Jayson alone with Alexander.
Jayson told him what had happened over the last few weeks, as well as whom their prisoner was. Robertson didn’t say a single word during the entire explanation. When Jayson finished, Alexander nodded in response, led Jayson to a nondescript room on the second floor of the Academy, and disappeared. Then he locked the door behind him.
The room was plain and gray. The bed was hard. He’d never been so content.
He awoke at some point later. His body ached, and he was exhausted. He tried to remember what woke him up and decided it must have been someone knocking. He stumbled to his feet and shuffled to the door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and containing a yawn.
It opened a second later, and he saw Robertson waiting for him. The old man looked tired, especially around the eyes. He was leaning on his cane in a white suit with his gray hair combed backward.
“Hello, Jayson,” he said.
“Hello,” Jayson replied with a nod. “Is this my prison cell?”
“It was.”
Jayson pondered that for a second. “That could be interpreted in quite a few different ways. Several of which are not positive. Are you planning to execute me, Alexander?”
“Headmaster,” Robertson corrected without malice. “And no. You are now one of my students.”
“What if I’m not interested?”
Alexander Robertson didn’t reply. Jayson hadn’t really expected him to.
“What happens next?”
“Training. Survival. Our benefactor is expecting you to be useful within a year and fully trained within three.”
Jayson bowed his head. “Useful,” he said, shaking his head. “As a Hammer? Or whatever Darius’s equivalent will be?”
“Not exactly,” Robertson replied. “The Hammers were trained to be paragons of humanity, to be better, stronger, and more resilient than any enemy they might face.”
“Oh?” Jayson said. “Then what are we being trained for?”
Alexander Robertson smiled, but it was a sad smile. “Get some sleep, Jayson,” he said, turning away from the room. “You’ll need it. We will begin tomorrow, and once we start, we won’t stop until you are done or dead.”
“You didn’t answer me,” Jayson said, grabbing his arm as he turned to leave. “What does she expect us to be? Spies? Assassins? Soldiers?”
The headmaster let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, Jayson saw defeat in his eyes. When he spoke, the word was almost too low to make out.
“Terrorists.”
