Bonds of Resolve (Cadicle #3): An Epic Space Opera Series

by Amy DuBoff

  The room buzzed with static electricity as a maze activated in the darkness. Electronic walls formed, providing just enough clearance for Wil to traverse the maze with the artificial wings stretched out to either side. The channel for the wings required him to keep his arms perfectly level, with only a three centimeter variance in the vertical position. He would need to navigate through the labyrinth using only his telekinetic senses to keep him on course and prevent him from touching the edge of the channel through the walls with the wings. He needed to be in complete synch with his surroundings, aware of himself and his domain.

  He took a moment to gather himself before stepping into the start of the maze. Eyes closed, he focused on what he felt around him. The walls hummed in his mind, and he created a mental picture of where he was and where he needed to go. The wings were mere centimeters from the walls as he stepped forward, careful to keep his balance and spacing perfectly centered.

  The further he progressed in the maze, the less clearance he had between the walls. Seven minutes of careful navigation passed. He wasn’t sure exactly how much clearance he had, but he focused on staying exactly centered. There was no room for error. He needed to be perfect. Everyone was counting on him.

  Wil’s arms ached from being outstretched for so long. But he couldn’t rest. He needed to finish and show them what he could do. They trusted him, they needed him.

  The maze took a sharp turn to the right, and his arm dropped for an instant.

  A harsh buzzer sounded and the lights restored.

  Wil groaned. So close.

  The artificial wings disintegrated around his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” Wil said to the observers. So much for getting a perfect score.

  The intercom clicked on, but Banks didn’t say anything at first. Several seconds later, he said, “We’ll proceed to the fourth stage whenever you’re ready.”

  “Okay, give me a minute.” Wil swung and rubbed his limbs to clear the lactic acid buildup. His arms still ached, but felt somewhat better after the short rest. At least the following exercise wasn’t as physical. “Let’s go.”

  The fourth stage was tailored to the area of specialization for each prospective Agent. For Wil, this meant a focus on command decision-making. Focused on optimized reactions, he needed to find a balance between being patient and proactive.

  The lights in the testing chamber dimmed.

  Wil looked around the room as a holographic starscape took form throughout the chamber. A single solar system materialized in front of him, with four planets around a red sun. The planetary configuration wasn’t familiar to Wil, most likely an invented world for the testing scenario. Ships popped up in orbit and outposts dotted the surfaces of the all the planets. A single, sprawling space station rotated in a geosynchronous orbit of the third planet. Each of the assets was surrounded by a blue glow.

  The view rotated ninety degrees. On the far side of the sun, a fleet was approaching, glowing red. An instant later, red ships appeared above each of the planets and the view rotated back to its original orientation.

  “Destroy the enemy leader,” Banks said over the intercom.

  Where’s the leader? Before Wil could finish assessing the conditions, the simulation erupted into full-blown battle.

  The red ships opened fire on the planets and surrounding space station. Protective shields illuminated under the blasts, a strength indicator hovering next to each.

  Wil reached up and rotated the view with his hands. The enemy envoy swinging around the sun was arranged in a defensive formation that might indicate the presence of a leader. Somehow, he needed to intercept the enemy with his own fleet.

  With that thought, he realized that his fleet was only responding with automated defenses. He needed to command the counterattack.

  Wil ran across the room and tapped on the deep space cannon on the second planet to activate the counter-strike. The cannon took out two of the enemy bombardment ships before the others broke orbit to evade.

  Turning his attention to the third planet, Wil mobilized three armored ships docked at the space station and directed them to take on a defensive position. The ships opened fire as the enemy vessels came into range.

  Back on the second planet, the cannon had exhausted its charge and was regenerating. Without the suppressive fire, enemy ships were closing in to target the cannon.

  Wil dashed to the first planet and reallocated one of the ships to defend the cannon on the second planet.

  Behind him, the fourth planet was surrounded. He had neglected to activate the units to counterstrike. He sprinted across the room, his heart sinking as one of the two outposts was captured by enemy forces. There were two armored ships sitting dormant in orbit of the planet. Wil directed the two ships to assault the enemy forces on the planet’s surface. Slowly, his forces regained the lost ground.

  The deep space cannon on the second planet was ready to fire again. Wil ran back toward it, but froze midway. The enemy envoy was rounding the sun.

  There was no way to protect all of the planets and take on the envoy. Destroy the enemy leader. Wil’s first instinct was to pull back from the fourth planet, which had the fewest resources. However, that put his troops the greatest distance from the envoy containing the leader. He needed to take a different approach.

  Without hesitation, Wil re-fortified the units on the fourth planet and ran to the first planet. He activated all of the units that had been defending the four outposts on the surface and directed their fire toward the advancing envoy.

  Under the heavy fire, the ships in the envoy bunched closer together and fired back. One ship at the center remained completely guarded and didn’t make any offensive actions. There’s the leader.

  Wil ran to the second planet and aimed the deep space cannon directly at the envoy. Two blasts from the cannon took out the forward ship, leaving a vulnerable hole in the fleet’s defensive wall. The cannon’s energy was spent—it was useless until it recharged.

  He sped the combat ships that had been in orbit of the first planet toward the envoy. As his ships approached, the enemy vessels redistributed to close the gap. He had his ships open fire, but the blasts had no effect against the shields. The deep space cannon was still recharging. There was no time to wait.

  Wil sent his lead ship on a collision course with the envoy. Three agonizing seconds passed as the ship careened toward its target. With a flash, the ship crashed into the front of the envoy. The enemy ships broke formation from the concussive impact, defensive shields flickering. The leader ship was left exposed.

  He opened fire on the leader with all his remaining ships as they spend toward their target, the enemy ship’s shield weakening with every strike.

  The enemy ships from the envoy began to recover and opened counterstrike fire, taking out of Wil’s approaching ships. He kept all of his ships on the same heading. Only one needed to make it through.

  He was within striking distance for his final assault. The enemy shield was only at ten percent. Wil sent everything he had at the leader’s ship. The shield weakened, but held at two percent.

  Off to his left, Wil saw that the deep space cannon was recharged. One blast would take out the leader, but his own ships were in the cannon’s path. Destroy the enemy leader.

  Wil activated the deep space cannon. The leader’s ship incinerated, along with Wil’s remaining ships from the first planet and half the enemy envoy.

  The lights returned to full brightness and the holograph dissolved.

  Wil let out a slow breath, his heart racing.

  The intercom clicked on. “You lost twenty-seven percent of your units,” Banks said.

  “The objective was to destroy the enemy leader. The mission parameters didn’t set a target for casualties,” Wil replied.

  “The objective is always zero casualties.”

  “That was impractical in this scenario. Some sacrifice was needed.”

  “Yes, but simulations on this scenario had necessary loss a
t only thirteen percent.”

  Wil gazed up at the observation window. “So I failed?”

  There was a pause. “No, you met the requirements. It was only a point of critique.”

  “Noted.”

  “Are you ready for the final test?”

  Wil’s stomach knotted. He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  A tile in the floor slid to the side and a pedestal raised up. Atop the pedestal was the testing sphere.

  Wil stared at the golden sphere, a chill gripping his chest.

  It was such a plain object for being something so unique and powerful. Made of a rare mineral that oscillated between a physical and subspace state, it allowed unmitigated channeling of electromagnetic energy. The sphere had been used to test the upper limit of thousands of Agents throughout TSS history. It was Wil’s window to enlightenment.

  “Begin,” Banks said over the intercom.

  Wil placed a hand on either side of the sphere. It tingled his fingertips, feeling a cool static charge pass between his hand and the shiny surface. Slowly, he began feeding energy into the sphere. He closed his eyes as he savored the exhilaration of such free use of his abilities. Finally, he was out of the invisible cage. He could fly.

  The sphere warmed as it was filled with pure energy. It felt incredible to draw so much through himself, to tap into all that was around him. There was so much more, and no limit in sight.

  * * *

  Cris paced back and forth as the readings ticked upward.

  “9.5,” the attending Agent called out as the electronic readout continued to creep upward.

  “9.7. That’s where I maxed out,” Cris said. But he’s not slowing down.

  “Here it is…” Banks said, eyes glued to the readout.

  “10.0!” the attendant exclaimed.

  Banks shook his head, incredulous. “He did it.”

  “Like we had any doubt,” Kate said. She crossed her arms and frowned as the reading ticked upward.

  “11.0!” the attendant announced. “Still climbing.”

  Fok, how high will he go? Cris bit his lower lip as he watched Wil continue to feed energy into the sphere. As the readout approached 12.0, the sphere started to vibrate. “What’s happening?”

  Banks looked closer at the sphere. “Stars! Is that a crack?”

  Cris and Kate ran forward to the window. “Fok, it is!” Cris exclaimed.

  A hairline fracture was forming along the side of the testing sphere. Golden light was pouring out from the crack, growing brighter.

  “Stop the test!” Cris yelled. Stars! This can’t be possible.

  “We need to find his limit,” Banks protested.

  “The foking sphere is cracked! There’s no telling what will happen if it breaks completely.”

  Kate rushed to the intercom. “Wil, stop!”

  Below, Wil continued to feed energy into the sphere. Another crack started to form down the side.

  “He’s too focused. I’m going down,” Cris said and ran toward the door.

  “You can’t go in there! If the energy spikes from the sphere—” Banks protested.

  “Then come with me. We can contain it.”

  Cris ran down the stairs to the entrance of the testing chamber with Kate and Banks close behind. He summoned a telekinetic shield and felt them feeding it behind him. He palmed open the door.

  An intense wave of telekinetic energy flooded out from the testing chamber. Cris felt his shield shudder under the force, but it held. He stepped into the room, pressing forward toward Wil.

  The sphere quaked atop the pedestal. A blinding golden light radiated through the widening cracks.

  “Wil, stop!” Cris yelled, but Wil didn’t acknowledge him. There was a blissful grin on his face.

  “Get him away from the sphere!” Banks shouted.

  Together Banks and Cris pulled Wil back.

  A powerful wave radiated from the sphere as he separated, knocking everyone to the ground. The entire chamber shuddered with the impact. Above, the glass to the observation room crunched as a crack spread from corner to corner.

  The sphere stopped glowing immediately. A deep gouge marred its side, with several smaller cracks radiating outward.

  Wil sat up on the floor. “What happened?”

  Cris scrambled to his feet. “The sphere was cracking. You didn’t hear us.”

  Wil looked in wonder at the damaged sphere. “I guess I was somewhere else.” He rose to his feet. Sparks of electricity jumped between his fingers. “Did I break 10?”

  “I ran down here at 12.” Cris couldn’t meet his son’s eye. He almost killed us without meaning to.

  Wil smiled. “Wow, not bad.”

  “Yeah.” Cris felt faint. He could see Kate and Banks were drained, too.

  “I did well, right?” Wil asked, looking to his parents and Banks.

  “Yes, very well,” Banks said, straightening his uniform. “You did everything we asked.”

  Cris caught Banks’ eye. Even through the tinted glasses, he saw the fear.

  * * *

  Wil grabbed his tablet and sat down on his bed. He saw that Saera was online.

  “Hey,” he wrote to her.

  “Hey! How’d it go?” she replied.

  “I felt like they were mad at me.”

  “Why?”

  “I did everything they asked. But, I broke the sphere.”

  “What? How?”

  “I guess it couldn’t withstand the force.”

  Saera took a few seconds to reply. “What did you score?”

  “Somewhere over a 12.0. I don’t have the final number yet.”

  Another pause. “Wow.”

  Wil bit his lip. “They’re all afraid of me.”

  “I’m not.”

  Wil smiled, even as the tears came to his eyes. “Thanks.” He sniffed the tears back. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Wil set down his tablet and curled up on the bed, burying his face in his pillow. He was a weapon. A living weapon. All he could do was cry.

  * * *

  Banks returned to the observation room, still shaking. He looked at the worried faces of the other Agents. “What were the final results?” he asked the Agent who’d been monitoring the readings.

  “The last reading before you pulled him from the sphere was 13.7,” the Agent stated.

  “Stars…” Banks breathed.

  “That’s a factor of forty above Cris.”

  Fok… we’d need fifty Agents to contain him at that level, and that wasn’t even his max. “Thank you.”

  The Agent looked to the others in the room, then to Banks. “Sir, will this become a matter of public record?”

  Banks nodded. “It has to be. No way around it.”

  “It’s, um… a bit alarming,” the Agent said, caution evident in his tone.

  “I know. We’ll all have to get used to the idea.” Banks took a deep breath. “Thank you for your professionalism today.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Banks took the central elevator up to his office. The Priesthood was awaiting his report.

  The Priest looked expectant when he answered the call. “Well?”

  “13.7,” Banks reported.

  “Impressive, but we expected more.”

  “We had to cut the test short,” Banks said. “He cracked the testing sphere.”

  “Well, that was unexpected.”

  Banks shook his head. “We almost lost containment. That kind of power… it could destroy an entire planet.”

  “Oh, we’re counting on it,” replied the Priest. “If we are not victorious through intellect and strategy, we’ll have raw power on our side.”

  But how will Wil direct that power? “He is the ally we want and need.”

  “Let him grow. We’ll see what he can become.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Wil’s new black uniform felt strange. The clothing itself was comfortable, but its symbolism came with a great weight. He was now an Agent. His word was no
longer an opinion, but a command. His CR placed him above even his father in the chain of command, if he wanted to exercise that right. It was an extraordinary responsibility. Yet, even that didn’t compare to what lay ahead. Commanding both divisions of the TSS as Supreme Commander was just around the corner.

  The graduation ceremony was being held in the largest lecture hall on Level 4. Twenty rows of raked seats formed a half-circle around a small stage and podium at the lowest level. A holoprojector cast a starscape on the ceiling of the hall.

  Wil filed into the front row with his colleagues, with additional graduates taking the second row. On the left side of the stage, Cris and four of the other senior Agents were lined up while Banks stood at the center podium. As he took his seat, Wil spotted his mother sitting in the row behind the graduates.

  All of the Trainees who’d elected to stay with the TSS beyond the first year were at the back of the auditorium. The top-scoring Initiates and Junior Agents for the year occupied the middle section of the audience, along with the Agent instructors. The rest of Headquarters would be observing the ceremony from a video feed to the lounges and other common areas.

  Banks waited for the audience to get settled before he began. “This has been an exciting year for the TSS. We had a higher number of new Agent Trainees join us than we’ve seen in more than a century, and that’s set us on a path to make a positive impact on all the Taran worlds. The TSS might not be accepted everywhere, but we play a vital role. We have the opportunity to help shape the future of Taran civilization. That’s an opportunity we can’t take lightly. The commitment we’ve made to the TSS is one that will define the rest of our lives, and our work here will be our legacy.

  “One of the most tangible contributions the TSS offered to the rest of Tarans is an independent jump drive design. This new navigation system will enable space travel in a way that’s never been possible before. Travel times will be drastically reduced for civilians, opening up commerce opportunities that had only been a distant dream before. The goodwill from those kinds of contributions will enable the TSS to flourish in the years to come.”