Wizard Scout (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 3)

by Rodney Hartman

  The commandant didn’t answer immediately as if he was conferring with someone. After several nods of his head to the unseen entity, he said, “Margery says we have a fifty-fifty chance. I’ve had worse odds during my career. Besides, I have something in mind which may increase the odds a bit.”

  Chapter 41 – DNA Gas Vent

  _____________________________________

  Richard stared into the large, glass-enclosed room. Several technicians were inside working on a piece of equipment covering a vent in the rocky ground which was the floor of the room. A stream of gas shot out the vent as the equipment was moved to the side.

  “So this is where it all began,” Richard said.

  “Yep,” said Telsa. “You’re looking at eight hundred years of wizard scout history in that room, Rick.”

  “You’d think someone would figure out the composition of the DNA gas,” Richard said. “Then the Empire could create as much as they needed.”

  Tam laughed. “Well, don’t think a lot of very smart people haven’t tried over the years.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Telsa said backing up her friend. “While my specialty is not molecular gases, I read a lot of scientific papers on DNA gas when I was considering putting in my application for wizard scout training.”

  “And?” Richard said when Telsa didn’t elaborate fast enough to suit him.

  “And…,” said Telsa who was apparently enjoying the moment. It wasn’t often Richard found himself interested enough in a scientific theory to ask her questions.

  “And…,” said Telsa again, “it’s theoretically impossible to replicate the gas. Based upon the opinions of the best scientific minds in the galaxy, the gas shouldn’t exist. Some of the better minds in quantum-dimensional physics theorize this vent you’re looking at may be a doorway into another dimension.”

  Having more than a little personal experience with other dimensions, the theory interested Richard. “What dimension is that?”

  “No one knows,” said Telsa. “But it’s someplace where our dimension’s laws don’t apply. Now you can understand why no one has been able to replicate the DNA gas.”

  “Well, all I know,” said Tam, “is that if someone could create that gas, he or she would be the richest person in the galaxy. Anyone who could afford it would be willing to pay a lot of credits to gain eternal youth.”

  Richard wasn’t all that well-read, but he thought he saw a fallacy in Tam’s comment.

  “It’s not eternal youth,” Richard said. “People who’ve had a DNA baseline don’t appear to age, but they rarely live more than twenty percent longer than the average lifespan.”

  “True, Rick,” said Jerad who had just walked up to join his friends. “But people would still pay a king’s ransom to stay young for whatever life they have left. I’ve no doubt that’s the cause of the current trouble on Velos.”

  “You’re talking about the takeover by the Deloris Conglomerate?” Richard said.

  “What else?” said Jerad. “The Academy’s been staving off attempts by outside forces to gain control of this DNA gas vent for eight hundred years. It actually came to an armed conflict three hundred years ago.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Richard said.

  “You should read more, Rick,” said Tam.

  “Ha!” laughed Telsa. “Look who’s talking. I suspect if a fact didn’t appear in a comic video you wouldn’t know it existed.”

  Tam started to say something back, but Richard rushed in to cut her off. He was more interested in the DNA Center’s history.

  “When you say an armed conflict, Jerad,” Richard said, “do you mean as in a civil war? Do you really think this push by the Deloris Conglomerate could turn into another war?”

  Jerad seemed to consider his answer before answering. Tam and Telsa stopped glaring at each other and looked expectantly at Jerad instead. Richard could tell he wasn’t the only one interested in hearing Jerad’s opinion.

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” Jerad finally answered. “The Empire didn’t exist back then. At least, it didn’t exist the way it does now. The Imperial High Council has systems in place now to counterbalance power plays by small groups of people who happen to be rich or have political influence.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right,” said Tam. “My mercenary unit was involved in the civil war on Voltor IX. It got pretty ugly.”

  Before anyone could respond to Tam’s comment, an overhead bell rang calling everyone back into class. The first battery of testing had been completed that morning. The afternoon was reserved for indoctrination classes.

  After a series of important but very dry lectures on DNA baseline do’s and don’ts, Chief Instructor Winslow gave the final class of the day. It was really more of a question and answer session than it was a class. Richard had always thought he learned more from the chief instructor’s classes than he did from everyone else’s classes combined.

  As Richard sat in the day’s final class, Chief Instructor Winslow smiled and asked, “So who has another question? Or, are all of you completely satisfied with your knowledge of DNA baselines.”

  “Sir. Cadet 147,” said Jerad as he stood up. “I have a question, sir,”

  “Yes?” said the chief instructor. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Well, sir,” said Jerad. “Once we receive our DNA baselines, we’ll be able to selfheal. But the ability to selfheal requires Power. Most of us only have one Power reserve.” Jerad took a quick glance at Richard. “What happens if we use all the Power in our reserve for offense and defense during a battle?”

  “Good question, cadet 147,” said Chief Instructor Winslow. “The simple answer is without Power you cannot selfheal. Consequently, if you’re out of Power and you receive a mortal injury, you’ll die.”

  The chief instructor scanned the room as she paused for emphasis. When she started speaking again, it was in a voice so low the cadets in the corners of the room had to strain their ears to hear. “I would highly advise you to always leave at least a little Power in your reserve in order to have the capability to selfheal. That’s all you can do. Are there any other questions?”

  “Cadet 422, sir,” said Tam. “I’ve heard some amazing stories about the selfheal ability of wizard scouts. What’s true and what’s just urban legend?”

  “Hmm,” said the chief instructor. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I can make a pretty good guess. Let me answer your question by explaining what your capabilities will be once you get your DNA baselines. First off, you won’t be immortal or anything like that. Also, whatever condition your body is in when you have your DNA baseline set, your Power will try to keep your body that way for the rest of your life. If you’re tired when you have your baseline taken, then you’ll be tired for the rest of your life. That’s why it’s important to get a good night’s sleep and a solid breakfast before you arrive for your DNA baselines at the end of the week.”

  “Ah…,” started Tam.

  “I know, cadet 442,” said the chief instructor. “I didn’t answer your question. But bear with me. Like I said, whatever condition your body is in the day you take your DNA baseline, it will be in the same shape for the rest of your life. Your Power will use every drop of energy in your reserve to keep it that way.” She looked around the room again. “Right now, each of you age. After your DNA baseline, your Power will consider aging an injury. Your Power will heal the aging as such. Your Power will always attempt to return your body to its baseline.”

  “What about combat injuries, sir?” said Tam.

  “Minor injuries will be healed within seconds,” said the chief instructor. “More severe injuries will take longer. Your Power will heal about ninety percent of the injury very quickly. The last ten percent might take several minutes or even hours to completely heal.”

  One of the other cadets stood up. “Sir, cadet 42. How severe of an injury will our Power be able to selfheal? I once saw a wizard scout selfheal a broken bone and a rifle shot to the gut. But what a
bout something even more serious like an amputation? Will that selfheal?”

  “Yes, your selfheal will be able to grow back a severed member given time,” said the chief instructor. “But…, you must have Power in your reserve in order to heal. You can even take a headshot or a round through the heart and survive. But only if you have sufficient Power to heal such a wound.”

  Richard rarely asked questions, but he jumped to his feet this time. “Sir, cadet 832. I was able to kill a Crosioian scout last year by stabbing her in the head with my knife. She could selfheal, but I still killed her.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Chief Instructor Winslow with a tolerant smile. “I read the report. But I’ll bet you did more than just stab her one time, didn’t you? A scout’s selfheal will work only as long as the scout has Power. The only way to kill a scout is to keep doing damage until they run out of Power in their reserve and can no longer selfheal. If you continue to shoot an opposing scout in the head or heart until they’re Power is all used up, they’ll die. The same thing will happen to you if someone keeps injuring you until your Power reserve is empty. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, sir,” Richard said. “I guess I did keep scrambling the scout’s brain a little until she died.”

  “I imagine it was more than just a little, cadet 832,” said the chief instructor. “I should also stress than massive damage such as a disintegration ray, a nuclear explosion, or some such thing will basically drain your Power reserve instantaneously. In which case, you’ll die. Or, imagine a large boulder is dropped on you. Your Power will try to heal your body, but the fallen boulder will continue to do damage until you run out of Power. As you can see, you’ll not be immortal. You can and will eventually die. Over time, your Power reserve will deteriorate and be unable to retain Power. When that occurs, you’ll also die. I guess you can think of that as aging, even though your physical body will still appear young decades from now. That is, if you’re still alive decades from now. Remember, the attrition rate for wizard scouts is quite high. You’ll be sent on the most dangerous missions. Most of you will be dead or on disability retirement within the next five years.”

  It was a sobering thought for Richard and the other cadets. Chief Instructor Winslow didn’t give them time to overthink it. “Let me ask all of you a question. Do you think a wizard scout’s selfheal ability is a blessing or a curse?”

  The question confused Richard. How can the ability to selfheal my own wounds ever be considered a curse? That doesn’t make sense.

  Ha! said Nickelo. Listen and learn, Rick. Don’t you remember how that master demon last year told you a curse can sometimes be a blessing, and a blessing can sometimes be a curse?

  Chief Instructor Winslow’s not a demon, Richard said. He liked the chief instructor. I trust her more than some demon. I just don’t see how selfheal can be a curse.

  In that case, why don’t you stand up and tell her the well thought out opinion you’ve formed, Rick? laughed Nickelo.

  Richard remained seated. He wasn’t that confident in his opinion.

  At first, no other cadet seemed willing to try and answer the chief instructor’s question either. Like Richard, they all suspected a trick of some kind.

  Even when no one volunteered to answer her question, the chief instructor didn’t say a word. She remained silent as she continued to look at the cohort with a familiar attitude of anticipation. All of the cadets had experienced the chief instructor’s technique of pulling answers from her students. They all knew she wouldn’t release the class until someone made an attempt to answer. Finally, a brave cadet stood up.

  “Sir, cadet 303,” said Telsa. “Since you asked, I’m assuming it’s a trick question. On the surface, I’d say the selfheal ability would be an obvious blessing. However, I can also think of situations where it could be a curse.”

  “Explain, please,” said the chief instructor with an encouraging smile. “You’re on the right track.”

  “Well, sir,” said Telsa who seemed to gain confidence from the chief instructor’s smile. “Our Power will automatically attempt to selfheal our bodies. We will have no choice in the matter whether we want to selfheal or not. So…, I was thinking, what if I was unfortunate enough to be captured and tortured? A sadistic torturer could stretch my tortures out for a very long time. Even though my body would selfheal, I would still feel the pain. It could get so bad I might prefer death over life. But I’d have no choice in the matter. My Power would keep trying to selfheal my injuries regardless of any desire I might have.”

  “And that, cadets,” said Chief Instructor Winslow, “is the paradox of being a wizard scout. Your DNA baseline will help you in many ways. But…, it can also be your greatest vulnerability. I would highly advise you to never allow yourself to be taken prisoner.”

  No one said anything. The idea of years of endless torture was sobering.

  “And with that cheerful thought,” said the chief instructor, “we’ll call it quits for the day. Platoon sergeants, take charge of your platoons.”

  Chapter 42 – Parents

  _____________________________________

  The hover-tram ride back to the airfield was a quiet affair. Nickelo calculated the cadets had a lot to think about. He wasn’t sure why they were so surprised by the chief instructor’s revelation. They’d had five years to think about it.

  It should have been obvious, Nickelo said.

  Our wizard scouts are emotional creatures, said Jonathan. Sometimes, they avoid thinking about unpleasant things. It’s not logical to ignore data, but there it is.

  Nickelo laughed. Actually, you and I can be a little emotional at times as well.

  Jonathan gave a timid laugh himself. It’s painful to admit, but I find it increasingly true.

  Watch this, Nickelo said. I find it can be fun to sometimes do things based purely on emotion.

  Hey, Rick! Nickelo said to his wizard scout.

  What? replied Richard as he jumped erect in his seat. He’d been dozing as Nickelo well knew.

  I was just wondering if you were asleep, Nickelo said while attempting not to giggle.

  That was mean, Jonathan told Nickelo. In spite of his admonition, Jonathan giggled as well.

  I was, but I’m obviously awake now, said Richard. Thank you very much.

  When Nickelo didn’t say anything, his wizard scout said, What is it, Nick? Please don’t tell me you woke me for no reason.

  Okay, Rick, Nickelo said. I won’t tell you that.

  Nickelo wanted to laugh, but he forced himself to sound serious. Actually, I just wanted to remind you the children are going to call you tomorrow night.

  You’ve already told me, Nick, said Richard. By the way, what time?

  Oh, Nickelo said, it’ll be early evening tomorrow for the children, but it’ll be zero-dark-thirty the next morning for you.

  Then why are you telling me this now? said Richard. I was sleeping.

  This time Nickelo couldn’t resist a little laugh. I wanted to let you know so you’d be sure to get plenty of sleep tonight.

  You woke me up in order to tell me to get some sleep? said Richard.

  Nickelo laughed even more.

  Nick, for being some kind of supercomputer, you can be such a child sometimes, said Richard.

  I calculate a ninety-nine point four percent chance your wizard scout is mad at you, said Jonathan.

  We’ve got twenty more minutes until we get back to the airfield, said Richard. Is there anything else you want? If not, I’m going back to sleep. And, I don’t want to be disturbed.

  I have nothing else oh greatest of wizard scouts, Nickelo said. That’s all I had to say.

  Nickelo watched his wizard scout scoot back down in his seat and fold his arms across his chest. Within moments, Nickelo noticed his wizard scout’s brain patterns change into a sleep pattern.

  Why’d you do that? said Jonathan.

  Why did I pull his chain? Nickelo said. Because I like Rick.

  I like my wizard
scout also, said Jonathan. But, I don’t ‘pull her chain’ as you say.

  Nickelo had previously transferred a copy of the book ‘Cute Sayings and Slang of 20th through 21st Century America’ by Robert R. Fitzgerald to Jonathan. It was nice having someone to talk to who understood the book’s little euphemisms.

  I calculate Rick wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t joke with him, Nickelo said.

  You calculated that? said Jonathan sounding as dubious as a computer could.

  Actually, no, Nickelo admitted with another laugh. I just made it up. But it sounded good.

  Jonathan didn’t laugh. Nickelo decided he’d have to work on his friend’s sense of humor a little more. But, not today, he thought.

  It’s twenty minutes until we reach the airfield, Jonathan said. That’s a long time.

  Yes, a very long time, agreed Nickelo. Let’s try something. Follow me.

  Nickelo had an experiment he wanted to try with his friend. Until now, too many of their logic threads had been tied up with the decrypting of the Crosioian battle computer’s security algorithm. Since they were getting so close to breaking the security code, a lot of their threads had been freed up. Nickelo calculated now was as good a time as any to run the experiment.

  Nickelo merged one of his logic threads with one of Jonathan’s. Once completed, Nickelo moved the entwined logic threads next to the security wall in his central processing unit.

  Dream, Nickelo told Jonathan. Nickelo did the same.

  Together, they dreamed. Nickelo led their progress in the dream. He found the same ghost memory he’d previously followed. He let the memory start the dream process. Nickelo advanced quickly through the dream. Jonathan had no trouble keeping up. When they got to the point in the dream where the presence first made contact with one of its kind, Jonathan spoke.

  This other of the presence’s kind seems familiar, sir, said Jonathan.

  It should, Nickelo said. I think it’s you.