Innocence Lost

by O. J. Lowe

  “I don’t want you going there alone,” Arnholt said. When it was put like that, Brendan did have a point. Anything that potentially weakened Claudia Coppinger could be helpful. “Take at least one agent with you as bodyguard. And I want you to take one of the Vedo as well. You’re travelling in hostile territory and I don’t want to risk you falling into enemy hands if we can help it.”

  “So, said agent is to eliminate me if we’re captured?” Brendan King almost said it with a grin. Arnholt only shrugged. Too much had passed between them for the exchange to be friendly. Both knew where they stood with the other. Cold hard truth. That was all that remained between them.

  “Hey, you said it. Not me.”

  Chapter Four. The Recruits.

  “Our academies have long been our pride and joy. In the past, the program has been a long one, a careful one that we’ve carefully tailored to the most suitable candidates to advance in whichever field best suits their talents. Today however, the kingdoms have changed. We need Unisco agents out in the field and we need them now. The two-year training period is no longer feasible. In two years, we might all be dead and living in a madwoman’s fantasy. It’s not a pleasant remit, but my goal is to see that the training is compressed down to as short a space of time as reasonably possible.”

  Tod Brumley’s first remit as Head of Recruitment and Development under the newly reformed Unisco.

  Six months ago.

  It had been common knowledge for years now that the great grey facility sat outside the Canterage town of Torlis was the Unisco academy. People who lived in Torlis had long been greeted with the comment ‘oh, where the academy is,’ and for the most part had gotten used to it. The media often referred to it with great affection whenever the need came up, a blight on the landscape in truth, a speck of ugly grey amidst the endless green. Torlis had once been in danger of going out of existence until the academy had been built and now it was surviving, if not thriving. Always there were cadets with spare credits to spend in the town when they got a free pass from the facility, the night life had the potential to be a lot more interesting than it once been and stores that peddled in small luxuries that couldn’t be found on the site did a meagre but profitable trade. Cut off from mostly anywhere, they could and did charge whatever outrageous mark-up they chose on supplies. Although their names weren’t known in the context of what they did, such luminaries of the spirit calling world had passed through the doors of the Torlis academy such as Nicholas Roper, David Wilsin and Wade Wallerington in the most recent famous examples, going all the way back to the old guard, Brendan King and Terrence Arnholt as well as the late Leonard Nwakili, all of them had trained here and all had gone on to make their own indelible marks on the five kingdoms.

  However, outside the organisation, very few knew that the Torlis academy had long since ceased to be used for actual training of new recruits. Instead it had been converted out as a storage facility, enough staff rotated there to keep the ruse going for as long as it needed to be kept active. Since the fame of the grand old academy had reached notorious levels, the executive decision had been made to open several much smaller facilities across the five kingdoms. Secret ones. Ones that wouldn’t be a massive target. Being sent to Torlis these days was a sure sign that your career at Unisco wasn’t going anywhere fast, even with the threat of the Coppingers.

  Amidst the reformation of the organisation, there had even been talk of shutting the place down completely and diverting the manpower and funds to more important areas. Arnholt wasn’t entirely in favour of it. One big useless target was infinitely more inviting than several small hidden and useful ones and he’d found that it was a good smokescreen. If the Coppingers wanted to make a strike at Unisco, then Torlis would be as good a place as any. Unfortunately, they hadn’t yet taken him up on that invitation and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep dangling it there. Pressure had been mounting on him to cut the place loose, ultimately there would come a point when he needed to.

  For the time being, it was irrelevant. Torlis continued to hold bits of useless supplies that they didn’t want to dispose of completely and was manned by staff who had sinned grievously in their duty. Whenever a Senate official wished to examine a Unisco training facility, events that were becoming rarer these days, Torlis was the one they were taken to. For all intents and purposes to everyone outside the Unisco high command, Torlis continued to thrive, turn out agent after agent year after year. The future was bright, and they were all made in Canterage.

  The truth of course was something rather different.

  Theobald Jameson remembered that first day distinctly, even months later. He doubted he’d forget it. He’d arrived at Torlis not entirely what to expect. He hadn’t been ready for the aeroship sat in the background, nor the men in the black masks who’d broken into the crowd of new recruits, felt the pricks of needles in their arms and the sudden deep embrace of unconsciousness. There’d been two teams of them, maybe twenty a side. Some of them had been wearing red armbands, some of them blue. He’d not understood why at the time, the reason or the logic behind it, just worn his red band with pride. He was doing this, for the first time ever in his life, it felt like he was doing something to make things better. He hated the Coppingers, he hated them almost as much as he hated his father. There was a fine dividing line between them, his father had ruined his early life, the Coppingers had ruined what potentially could have been the finest day of his life when their crazy bitch leader had attacked the Quin-C final when he’d been about to claim victory. She’d shown up and things had turned to shit. Literally.

  People had died, he’d been lucky not to be amongst their number. And so, it had been Anne who’d suggested this. Anne who’d trained him when things had looked their darkest, become the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend, not quite a partner but something could gestate there. He didn’t know if he wanted it. His heart had remained closed off to other people for so long, opening it up hurt more than he’d ever imagined. For some reason, she seemed to like him, so he couldn’t complain too much. Friendship was something he’d once thought to be beyond him, but she’d disproved that. She’d taken him to her heart and he’d tried to reciprocate as best he could.

  Those were his thoughts as unconsciousness had taken him, the first to assault him as he’d woken to bitter winds swiping cruelly at his face. His eyes had slid open to the unwelcome sight of the ground charging towards him, thousands of feet away, unfamiliar weight across his back. He’d scrabbled at it, a cape billowing in the wind. The summoner wasn’t around his neck, the next thing he’d gone for. He could see a big temple or something far below, he was going to hit it, he flapped his arms like a great big bird, already desperate to avoid hitting it. It didn’t do much good, hit the church or hit the ground, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Somewhere amidst the roar of the winds in his ears, he was aware he was screaming and shouting, throwing curses out at those who’d done this to him and he ran hands over his body, looking for something, anything to get him out of this. They couldn’t be about to let him die like this, surely, the absolute bastards…

  His fingers closed on a thin metal loop protruding from his cape and with no better option at hand, he tugged on it hard. Behind him, the cape stiffened hard, slowing his descent and jerking him back firmly as the material froze solid, catching the winds in its voluminous folds and for a moment, he was hovering like a giant kite. A strange sound echoed through the winds, he thought he was laughing and then the sensation faded and once more he was falling. Maybe a hundred feet from the ground, he found the loop again and tugged frantically, same sensation, same pressure on his back and same intense feeling of relief. Bloody air loops. He’d never worn one before, he was lucky that he’d not panicked beyond reason. Theo didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he had.

  In the grounds of the temple, a big white ring had been painted into the grass, and with his cape still stiff, he jerked his body clumsily towards it. It wasn�
�t anything approaching graceful, he felt like he was wallowing through it. At least now his fall had slowed to a glide, the terror he’d felt earlier rushing away from him. When he hit the ground face first, he’d never been so grateful to feel the pain of a bust his nose. Blood streamed down his face, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he was relieved. Very relieved. He couldn’t stop shaking; his hands were trembling as he lay there on the grass for a few long moments. His breath came out in deep ragged gasps, he might be close to tears, but he wasn’t about to break yet. It had come as a shock to the system, the anger was boiling up inside him. He blinked several times, wiped his busted nose with a sleeve and grimaced as the sting rupturing through his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d suffered that injury, wasn’t even the most debilitating instance. His eyes watered, blinking hurt, but considering he’d just been thrown out of an aeroship…

  Bastards…

  He made a fist, punched the ground hard. The soft earth gave under his fist, he sat there for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. He could see the temple properly now, was more like some sort of monastery now he considered it. Looked too grand to be a church, least not the ones he was used to. It was more ornamental, a work of art as well as a place of worship. That idea filled him with distaste, he didn’t hold much truck with religion. Some part of him wanted to believe, the part of him that didn’t want to take any chances. Theo stood, saw the speeders coming in fast. Three of them. He tensed up, jerked his head back and forth, cursed that he didn’t know what was going on. Stupid, stupid! Getting exposed out in the open like this was a rookie mistake.

  Except that’s exactly what he was here. A rookie. He hadn’t even started training yet and already he’d been thrown into it.

  Okay, Unisco. You want to play this game!

  When the speeders arrived at his landing site, he’d made it a point to be somewhere else. The sun was high in the sky, he was at least grateful they hadn’t made him skydive at night because that might have been more than his nerves could deal with but concealing himself would have been easier if there was some sort of cover. He’d hurled himself into a nearby bush, wriggled across the ground on his belly when he was sure they’d passed by. He caught a glimpse through a gap in the branches, saw the men on the speeders… well most of them were men. There was a woman as well, all in black uniforms… were all carrying blaster rifles. He didn’t want to get into confrontation with them, he still wasn’t sure if this was some sort of induction or training. It could be, it might not be. If they were throwing him in at the deep end like this, then maybe they were a lot more desperate that he’d thought. He continued to worm his way across the grass, only drawing shallow breaths. Ahead, he could see the monastery looming high against the skyline, a dozen little black dots moving around the perimeter of it in various patterns.

  He didn’t want to go there. Not if they were in the same company as the people on the speeders. That said, it was the only building for miles around. He’d been dropped here for a reason. He craned his head back around, saw the group on the speeders stood examining the crash site. They were too far to hear, he didn’t know how long he had. Crucially, all of them were facing away from him, just for that moment. Looking at his surroundings, a good five hundred feet of open grassland between him and the monastery. He didn’t stand a chance of going in through the front door, they’d spot him long before he got anywhere near it. So, what now?

  He was a decent runner; he’d admit that. He wasn’t prepared to say that he could sprint five hundred yards before some unknown people with blasters turned their heads. And however fast he might be, it was a fool’s errand to think he could outrun a speeder. The clue was in the name.

  Theo continued to crawl his way across the grass until he’d heard the shout and the first shot and then any hint of being subtle, any logical thought about how he was going to approach this went out the window. The earth kicked up beside him and his nerves went, he was straight onto his feet and running as fast as he could. He’d never realised the power of motivation in being shot at to beat any personal best sprit records.

  In a way, it had been a good thing for then. He’d later realised it might not be much good for an actual operation given they knew now of his presence, but at the time it had been a relief. He’d stumbled, thought he’d been hit for a moment before spotting the opening in the earth, half covered by some bushes. They were shooting at him now, blasts of laser coming his way, some of them even had spirits out and were launching streams of fire and uniblasts towards him. He’d not hesitated, knew he needed to get out of the line of fire and he’d thrown himself through the thorns, shredding his hands and face despite his best efforts. He swore angrily at the pain, although better to be cut than shot, he’d continued to push his way through the tunnel, relieved it was wide enough not to risk suffocation. It looked like it grew deeper the further he went, hopefully high enough to stand. Pushing himself along on his ass wasn’t a good way to do it but he’d had to take what he was given right now. As shafts in the ground went, it wasn’t too bad. The soil wasn’t damp beneath his fingers, although he could feel it intermingling with the sweat and the bloody cuts on his palms. With every movement, he felt the terror beneath his skin threaten to erupt again, sure more shots were going to come his way and he was going to feel the burn of blaster fire scorching into his skin. If he died down here, they wouldn’t even need to bury him. He’d be nothing but a memory. That thought spurred him, managing to squeeze to his haunches and push on in a squat half-walk, half crawl position that was uncomfortable but definitely faster. Soon the soil was replaced by bricks and mortar, thick with the smell of aged wine and old dust amidst a thousand other things that he couldn’t place.

  He’d been surprised to discover it came out here in what was clearly a cellar of sorts. That shock had only intensified to see the little man sat waiting for him, a bemused smile on his face as he rested a giant blaster pistol on the bench besides him.

  “Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly. He had plastered dark hair close cropped to his skull, wore glasses and had a faint hint of Burykian about him. “Let me guess… Jameson? Theobald Jameson… Theobald Cyris by birth.”

  “Don’t!” he almost snapped. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Apologies. But you must have known that wasn’t going to remain secret for very long. Not to us. There were those that wanted not to admit you on those grounds.” His smile grew in length, if not pleasantness. It looked like a scar cut into his lips. “But the sins of the father should never be held upon the son. Your father is a nasty piece of work.”

  “That’s putting it delicately,” Theo replied, resting his fingers in the loops on his waistband. The little man was right. He had been expecting it. Just not yet. He’d thought it’d be a while before anyone brought that up. “If he dropped dead, I’d go dance on his grave the first chance I got.”

  “And hence, the reason you have been allowed to enlist here. Those who vouched for you were very persuasive in their arguments, they called long and hard in your favour. We have a process here; I think you’ll find. Unisco, we vet our candidates in as firm a manner as possible. Can’t let just anyone in. The good Agent Sullivan was very vocal in her protestations about the relationship between you and your father.”

  “Is she here?” Theo asked. “She never mentioned what I’d be walking into.”

  The little man smiled, this time just a hint of warmth in it. “They frequently never do. In fact, they’re encouraged not to. We like to test a number of things before we even offer you a place. Adaptability. Planning on the fly. Reactions under pressure. Changing circumstances. Even facing the unknown.”

  “All this’s been a test?” He’d guessed as much, but hearing it confirmed was a bit of a shock to the system.

  “Naturally.”

  He swallowed down some of the anger inside him threatening to boil over, flexed his fingers hard against his side. It took a few moments before finding the composure to answer. “And did
I pass?”

  “Well you managed to avoid being shot, you discovered the way down here… Every scenario is different. You didn’t avoid detection, so it wasn’t a flawless pass, but it was far from a failure. You show promise, Theobald. If you’re willing to commit, then we are willing to take you. But before you do, you should know that these next few months of your life in our care will be absolute hells for you. And even then, it doesn’t get easier. The days of your life being easy, the days of them being your own, they will go forever. You will be ours. If that doesn’t sound like something you can commit to, nobody will think anything less of you.” He leaned forward in his seat, rested his elbows on his knees and continued to smile. It felt like his eyes were threatening to drill into Theo’s skull and he cleared his throat loudly.

  “Ah what the hells,” Theo said, shrugging. “Not like I’ve got anything better to do.” He tried to make it sound nonchalant, rubbed the back of his neck uneasily and managed a small smile. Backing up felt like a good idea given the way the small man was fixating on him. “I mean, if you’ll take me, I want to give something back. I can do that. This, even. I can do this. Do your worst.”

  “You know, you may have cause to regret those words sometime soon,” the little man said, the amusement in his voice, if not his smile. “Plenty do. But I like your spirit, Jameson. We’ll see if your body is as defiant. It’s very much a compressed training course, used to take two years but we’re trying to half it at least. It’ll be rough. Very rough. You’re at least a competent spirit caller so we can skip most of that part of the training with you. All of it with you will be the physical and mental stuff. Now you are soft, but we will make you hard. We will make you a living weapon. That is what you are getting yourself in for. You may go now.”