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    L'Gem
    L'Gem
    L'Gem
    Ebook1,146 pages18 hours

    L'Gem

    By Sharon L Reddy

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Science Fiction
    Contains both Pyramid Knights novels:
    Consensus Rebellion
    Under the Pall
    305,000 words
    Paranormal element
    Contains relationships which may offend some readers

    In Animal Farm, Orwell iterated the predictability of an elitist oligarchy in an isolated society, if all external communication and asset trade is controlled by a comparatively small group, with a perceived social difference. And that control is one.

    Gradeload:

    Internal Security wanted a secret weapon. They didn't want any witnesses. They abducted the student they thought had made a discovery and bombed the university physics lab. That didn't work well, either. IS was very displeased. The student they'd abducted was convicted of attempting to murder the others. It was standard procedure.

    No one got out of Horgen Field prison alive, but if Bard was right, there was a way. The six, who IS had intended to kill, began to search for what he was sure existed. The assassin could teach him to stay alive.

    Read as fast as you can to get the story. Read it again to see and hear them speak.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSharon L Reddy
    Release dateMay 3, 2012
    ISBN9781583389621
    L'Gem
    Author

    Sharon L Reddy

    I write science fiction romance, but it's the literary definition of romance. Swashbuckle, Baby, in "white tie and tails." High romantic fantasies, million word mysteries, family sagas, statesmen, gurus and wise immortals. Loving dads, sons and brothers, and of course, the women who understand and appreciate them. High fashion and landscape design. Materials and art, the books are built to be read very fast, specifically for the way women visualize. Research on the soap operas of the fifties, trends in international populist (fan) fiction, technological development, and above all, long-term entertainment value. It has to be good in reruns. The intent is create a body of work that's just fun to read, in spurts or bursts over decades. Ethics, responsibility, nobless oblige, the power of money, the use of prestige. I write good guys win. Period. They're fantasies for women. Men with lots of muscle say, "I love you," a lot.Most of what is currently published was written in the first decade, 1991-1999, before Mother Nature changed my personal definition of "mature audience." I hope you'll remain with me as I and my work mature and enjoy the second decade of my work now being published, as well.I've lived many places and visited far more. My current residence is on a high mesa in New Mexico, in the United States, where I am engaged in a habitat restoration project.Explanation of the Pilots Group:Some of these works have been sitting on my hard drive close to twenty years and they're no fun for anyone just sitting there. They're exactly what they've been titled, pilots, like for a TV series. It is my intent and hope that other writers will choose to continue the adventures of the characters. There are only three restrictions. Don't kill off my heroes, don't make good guys bad guys and give my story credit if you publish. Yes, you may publish and make money on your stories. I loved reading and writing fan fiction, but the limitations on it could be frustrating, so... Have fun with these works that specifically don't have them.

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      Book preview

      L'Gem - Sharon L Reddy

      Part One

      Consensus Rebellion

      Chapter One

      Harim picked up the 'new one' and carried him to his chosen place in the pen. It wasn't easy. The kid was pretty big and he wasn't. The others watched in surprise. Harim knew he was the one person they hadn't expected to claim him. He usually just sat in his place and ignored them and everything they did. No one messed with him because they all knew he was crazy. He'd made sure they believed it. He'd smiled when he'd been the new one and while he killed the big man, then had just chosen a place and ignored the others as they fought over who would be big man, when they realized he didn't want to be.

      He got the big young man into his corner and gently began cleaning him. He didn't know who he was, but the guards had made sure he wouldn't be able to fight off the ones who had initiated him before they pitched him into the pen. Anyone the guards did that to was special. They already feared him. It had been what they'd done to him, but they'd been even more thorough with the big kid. They'd left the stasis cuffs on him after they'd beaten him. They disappeared while he was checking how bad he was injured.

      If the kid had been badly damaged, the comp would note it and call medical. The warden would be upset if the med comp recorded the kid had been thrown in with his hands and arms immobilized. Not that it was done, just that it was recorded. Harim said, Quick-heal salve and anti-bio inoc. A squeeze tube of salve and slap inject of full-spectrum inoculant dropped into his corner.

      Yes, the kid made the guards nervous. That made two of them. He knew why he did. He wondered why the new one did. He intended to find out. The kid stirred and moaned.

      It's over. I couldn't do anything until it was, but they won't try it again. I killed the one who led the bunch who welcomed me. I enjoyed it.

      There was a leader?

      Yeah, but this time it was a guard. They don't get close enough to kill. You got made pliable before they tossed you in.

      Yes, I remember it quite well. I'd been made 'pliable' several times before I was dropped three meters into a mob. I like the way you dealt with it. I took note of who enjoyed it, but I won't hunt them out. I'll just kill them all. Starting with the one who runs the place. Of course, if one of them volunteers to be first, I'll kill him second, or third. Bard.

      Harim. I'm an assassin. Why are they afraid of you?

      Oh, I'm a genius, big, good-looking, and several others. I'm also extremely aggravated they hurt a large number of people taking me. It frustrated them a great deal when they found out someone managed to keep them from killing them and I didn't have what they wanted.

      A rebel?

      I wasn't. I was a student. There weren't supposed to be any witnesses they grabbed me. I imagine they made a lot of rebels when they blew the physics lab. I thought it was humorous they blew up the work on the shield that saved the others. They didn't. I was convicted of doing it. That's why I'm here and not in with rebels. The crime was attempted murder of a professor. The motive was a bad grade. The judge didn't ask why the professor and my grades were not presented as proof at my trial. I intend to kill him too. All men. I rather like that. I'd kill a woman if she deserved it, but I'm rather glad none of them were. I'd just really begun to notice how nice they are.

      What?

      I didn't go to school with others until I went to the university on a research project. I hadn't met any until then. I was working my way up to asking one to go to a dance. Since she's still alive, I may still get the chance.

      Not unless you get out of here. The probability is pretty small.

      It wouldn't be if someone did know what they wanted me to tell them. Of course, that's not likely. It would require we be wrong about a rather large number of things being physical laws.

      They do a truth scan?

      How else would they be sure I didn't really know anything and would be dangerous to put in with real rebels? I hurt like hell, but those look like you assured I'll feel better. Thank you.

      Easy. You ended up in med for massive infection, the warden would have to write a report. Put him in with me if you don't want to explain a lot of bodies. I like him.

      Full monitoring?

      This corner is still interesting. I can read and know if someone short-changes me. I got the rest of my education in the Roper slums. I was convicted of murder, once. I figure some people were unhappy the woman I killed wasn't paying them to look the other way when her people were selling drugs to kids anymore. Interesting the unknown person who hired me wanted her dead for that reason and not because she was a competitor. It's why I took the job.

      How do you know?

      No one took over the business. It was a guarantee whoever hired me made. School kids can't buy dream dust in Roper. People who sell it to them get dead. Five years and it's still that way.

      Dream dust is a fast way to die.

      Not as fast as selling it to a kid in Roper. She was paying for protection for the pushers too. Now no one does. I watch the casts. Kids aren't dying of dream dust OD in my old neighborhood, but every so often someone else does. I smile every time I see a face I remember.

      How old are you?

      Twenty-three standard. You?

      Eighteen. The statement about your education indicates you're interested in an exchange.

      Five years is long enough to get bored. It's also long enough to start thinking of another man as pretty.

      I'm rather a practical sort and I prefer you to them.

      Harim smiled. Bard had understood the truth of the place fast. No one was there for less than life. They weren't there for rehab and they didn't get paroles. The government of Gradelode didn't waste any money on the one and didn't grant the other. Even if the government fell, those in the maximum security facility wouldn't be freed. They'd probably get some counseling, but they wouldn't be freed. They'd been judged too dangerous to society to ever be allowed to rejoin it. They were without remorse or regret. The evidence came from their own minds, or so the government comp records said.

      Tell me how it works.

      You work, you eat. If you're too crazy, you get dead. Don't kill anyone without a reason.

      The guards don't stop it?

      The guards are up there. We're down here. There is a door. It doesn't open unless everyone is in a cell and those are locked. We can lock them from inside, but the outside locks are in their control. If you kill someone in front of everyone else, they figure you had a reason or you'd get dead too. Locking us all up together keeps the population down to what the facility will hold.

      You have a cell to yourself?

      Several do. A man made a poison. Killed himself, too. Once in awhile one does go crazy in here. That one took a bunch with him, everyone over sixty. The note said he was having a party and wanted all his old friends to be there. We all told them to have a good time when the guards carried their bodies out. That's the only way out, Kid. He knew it.

      I'm too young to believe that. I also didn't do anything wrong. Several people know it. One of them may decide to do something about it. Right now, I need that hope. You don't belong here, either.

      You don't think so?

      You may have killed for pay, but I'd bet you never killed anyone who you weren't sure didn't deserve to die.

      Kid, you need an education.

      I hope you think the math and physics I teach you are worth it as a trade for what you teach me. I know they won't be of the same value. You already know how to stay alive in here.

      Ritzi finally learned what happened to Bard. She'd reread the public document it had taken almost three seasons of cracking codes to get. When she had, she made a comm call.

      Tarse, I changed my mind. A walk by the lake in evening would be nice.

      I'd about given up hope you find me interesting.

      See you at nineteen.

      May I brag?

      About a walk?

      Several have been saying I'm an idiot for trying for quite some time.

      A walk, Tarse, and I'll probably bring along the chapter I'm working on for you to read.

      It's going to be a great story.

      So far, it's the opening chapters of a work of fiction.

      I knew it was fiction. Nonfiction wouldn't require work.

      It wouldn't be as much of a challenge, just a longer research paper. Nineteen.

      I'll be there.

      Tarse got off the comm and whooped. Ritzi was 'in.' She'd found something about Bard and the government was going to fall! And if she'd found something, the gov no longer had a secure file on the planet. He commed Lima.

      I finally got a date with Ritzi.

      I thought that was not going to happen.

      She's working on fiction. I was warned I'd probably get a chapter to read. I plan to be a very good editor, so I get more walks by the lake.

      You got her out of the apt complex too?!

      She always liked 'fresh air.' I don't know if I'll get anywhere, but I'm no longer worried. Fiction isn't broken heart.

      I'll tell Brimmy the hero she's been sighing about is in a doc file. Fiction, she always did like a challenge.

      I noticed.

      Brush up on your lit, and probably everything else. She had two frustrations. The hero and physical law. She may be working on a plausible-looking way around the law to get the hero in the book.

      Ow. Well, I'll take editor, who knows what will look plausible, as a starting point. If she does get around it, you'll be drafted to check the math she does to support it-would-work-if-this-physical-law-wasn't. 'Um, you didn't change any signs,' won't get me in for tea and talk.

      Math is just math. It can't change physical law, but she may be able to make it look like it does. I'll help. So will Brimmy, Garil and Panner. We've been worried about you.

      She's been dream girl a long time. It'll be a good story, and I'll remind her the math doesn't go in it.

      Even if it is good fiction. We'll help remind her the hero isn't real and you are, too.

      Thank you. I'm pulling up a creative writing text.

      Good luck getting the editor job.

      That evening, Tarse read the document and told Ritzi the cover Lima had set up for continuing Bard's work proving impossible wasn't. She sat down on the grass beside the lake and sighed.

      I don't know if I can. In there, I don't know if he survived ten days.

      We have where he started, and he's… too pretty to waste.

      I don't want that in the story.

      Time to take it over from the current authors.

      Agreed. Let's get a couple chapters dictated for my watchers to find.

      I have an idea on after.

      You're an optimist.

      I'm alive.

      Yes, and so are we.

      Bard stood up. Harim stopped working on the assignment and stood up beside him. Brinlo was about to make a mistake and 'volunteer.' He was brutal and sly, but stupid. The seven with him were just brutal and stupid. They were all incapable of extrapolation. They'd seen lessons in the corner, and all had noticed gorgeous tight ass, but none of them had figured out the baggy shirt hid rippling muscle, and the lessons in the cell weren't all math and science. The number had been in their repertoire since they began building routines. It was Brinlo's preferred.

      Eight.

      Number one. A warning seems polite. Go away, Brinlo! I don't like you and interruptions of my student's work irritates me!

      It's time for your lessons, pretty boy, and to end my irritation! Permanently!

      Number one.

      I like you, too. We have an audience.

      Let's give them a show.

      The eight rushed them and the rush died, though they only had to kill three. Harim sat down to work on his assignment. Bard moved 'things' beyond their corner perimeter, then sat down to watch his student solve the equation. He also watched both sections of the audience. If the guards leaned far enough over for a good look, they'd add one or two of them to the trash to be removed, but he didn't expect it. He did expect the other section of the audience to add one or two. Some would-be heads might roll before one assembled a sturdy enough neck. He had no preferences on who became the head or the number in the neck. He and Harim practiced all the routines, anyway. When Harim finished the assignment, they went to their cell. The audience obviously didn't know the show was over.

      King and the top candidates for the throne, the line of succession didn't go any farther.

      It'll be rebuilt, Bard, but it may be less crowded when it is. You feel?

      Some satisfaction the preparation was effective.

      Appropriate. I chose the correct function.

      You did, and solved it correctly. Perfect score.

      So was yours, and it was final exam for the term.

      I want the degree, but I'd prefer it on another campus. This one is extremely low in aesthetic appeal.

      True, your only nice view is when you request your image.

      You're as aesthetically pleasing as I am, Harim. It's just obvious the pretty thing is deadly.

      They've learned you have fangs, too. Our corner perimeter will move out and there will be more space around our table at meals.

      They'll be a bit less unappealing without Brinlo demonstrating the efficacy of his gastric function in loud and odorous fashion. They made an error. If they'd put me with rebels, I'd have had more students, but learned less.

      Let's watch some porn.

      Harim, I don't need it any longer.

      I didn't expect to hear that.

      Nice surprises have been too rare in your life.

      It's time to watch for those that haven't been.

      Ritzi remembered the most, but it took all six of them to reconstruct what Bard had been working on. They began to gather by the lake to talk about the story. They always talked about it in that way. Ritzi dictated the story frame around the work they were doing. Tarse studied writing and editing.

      The group didn't get quiet or change the subject when they were obviously monitored and secret monitoring agreed. Since the equipment was too expensive to waste, Internal Security began using it to monitor others, not listen to six discuss an at least plausible-sounding set of physical laws so the magic sword makes sense. As soon as Ritzi's 'crack' showed the equipment was in use elsewhere, they began constructing the theory for the shield to go with the sword. It was simpler. It had already been done once and didn't quite prove physical laws were only rules in most circumstances.

      Tarse began the other preparations. His family assured there was always cash 'laying around,' to buy non-notice. Ritzi kept watch and made sure private enterprise wasn't reported.

      'A while' before someone tried again wasn't as long as Bard and Harim expected. The population had been reduced by two more, but the new head decided it should be four. Harim stood, put his hands behind his back and stretched. Bard tucked his thick, light brown curls behind his ears. Harim glanced up and he knew it had taken longer to get prepared than it should have.

      Notched fingernail.

      Lack of method for efficient smoothing noted. Next time use a bunk pad cover.

      Breaking it was lack of attention to a damaged breakfast tray edge. I've been working on it on my pants.

      Since you didn't attract my attention, you got enough bonus points to start even. When we're done, make sure any dead died of obvious causes.

      Number fourteen, unless they rearrange before they get here.

      A few will shuffle to the back, but the shape of the pack shouldn't change enough for thirteen or fifteen.

      Packs follow leaders. Tactics require cooperation and thought. They aren't scared enough to work at either, yet.

      Yet. But after this, those capable of them may decide the effort is necessary.

      It took awhile and they took some damage. The number had grown as they battled. Both knew they'd have been overwhelmed if there had been more, or it had happened sooner. After all they'd had to kill were dead of 'obvious' causes, they walked to their cell, allowing no damage to be seen. When they got there, it was locked against them.

      Open it or we'll just kill the rest of them, so we don't have to watch behind us.

      I like the idea, Harim. I'm sure it would be difficult for the warden to explain, and less time-consuming. They made you lose track of where you were in the assignment.

      And I was doing well on it. They're becoming easier.

      That's what good practice does. Let's go kill them. Which method should we use? Six, seven or nine?

      Seven is fastest, and I'm a little tired.

      The door opened as they turned away. Harim left it open. Bard raised an eyebrow. Harim widened his nostrils and he understood. They sat down in the cell doorway and use their limited supply of scavenged antiseptic and quick-heal salve. The care with which they cleaned their fingernails wasn't noticeable, but no one had noticed they were filed to a short point, either.

      As soon as they finished that, Harim went into the cell and began handing things to Bard. He stacked them outside. They 'leapfrogged' them down the cell block. Harim didn't carry anything. They collected things they wanted from now-vacant cells, as they went. It didn't take long. By the afternoon work buzzer, they'd moved. Both chose new jobs.

      At dinner, both took trays from other men. After dinner, they changed cells again. They changed once more before doors were locked. When they were, Harim pinched his nostrils and Bard smiled and began getting the cell clean, carefully missing crud in corners. When they flipped over bunk pads, they found a treasure trove.

      Anti-bio, quick-heal, antiseptic, analgesic! Brinlo collected from everyone.

      The new head wasn't secure enough to take the king's cell yet, and everyone else stayed out until the new king was known. And they have to start over.

      It'll be slower.

      We took the king cell. I am tempted to just avoid further problems, but you and I aren't mad animals and there might be others who aren't.

      I'm an assassin. I only took jobs I'd enjoy, but that's what I am.

      A more difficult profession than most in which to maintain an ethical standard. This cell is point two seven meters wider there to there. It's an interesting number. The assignment is figure out why it's not point two five.

      The contract was expensive, but cost overruns enormous and the 'skilled labor' untrained and poorly paid.

      Those are the constants. Find the variable that solves the equation.

      Point oh two here, point oh two seven there. Now what?

      Which wall is off point oh two? Is it even top to bottom and front to back?

      Application!

      Solving the equations has become practice, not work.

      A new term?

      Yes.

      Yes! Lay down. We have enough to heal us, not just make us not obviously weakened. At some point, some may decide it's safer looking out from our corner than looking in. All are remorseless killers, but all are not brutes or beasts.

      They're not all stupid, either. Another reason we took this cell?

      There were several. Tomorrow, I'll see if the ones opposite and below are point two seven meters wider.

      You're off to a good start on the new term.

      So are you. Today, we made survival easier for many.

      No, they made it easier. We just passed out the failure slips.

      I like that.

      After morning work session, two men crossed the yard and sat down just outside the corner 'perimeter.' Both had a stylus and datpad. Bard walked over and wrote two questions on each pad. Both quickly wrote answers and showed him.

      How much education?

      Secondary plus one.

      Secondary plus three.

      Who did you kill?

      A rapist, in IS uniform.

      My mother.

      She must have been a monster.

      She was.

      Call names and how long you've been here, so I know how much basic review is needed.

      Pans, nine years.

      Choppy, twelve years. There are two open jobs on the kitchen morning shift, as of yesterday after lunch.

      I don't know how to cook.

      The food wouldn't get better if you did.

      It starts early, Bard, but afternoons are open time.

      You like the schedule, Harim?

      It's considered a good job. It can be finished early.

      Not much, but usually.

      I'm already bored with what looked less boring. We're taking kitchen morning shift! Light and unlock early enough! You two cellmates?

      Yes, two twenty-four.

      Two seventy-three is open.

      We'll move. It's closer to the kitchen.

      And the classrooms, outside and in.

      After lunch the next day, three worked assignments in the corner. Three more of the early kitchen shift arrived, each with a stylus and pad and began class. After dinner, Bard touched Harim on the shoulder. The huge dark man with a few threads of white in his hair was approaching alone. Harim had said he was called Lone and men carefully left him that way. The seven sat still and waited. Lone walked to the perimeter and sat down beside, but not crowding, him.

      Thank you.

      You're most assuredly welcome. Doctor Carter Lopez, Ph.D. Sociology. I executed eighty-seven. I was disappointed there weren't more. I'd still like to add to the total, but for twenty-six years, all I've done is step on roaches that got too close. You're not a roach, and this corner is attractively clean. I'm in cell one seventy-five. I appreciate quiet upstairs tenants.

      Vermin removal was Harim's career choice. I'm an apprentice gaining experience in reducing infesting populations. You were careful. None of the hotel staff were injured.

      They were why there were only eighty-seven, not two hundred thirty. I'm not a rebel. Government is an institution. An institution is a thing. Things cannot be evil. Only people can make the choice to be. 'The government' is very nice camouflage for the individuals who have.

      Sociopathy is a prerequisite for high positions in the bureaucracy. Cruelty is for enforcement. Combined, they're the qualifications for minister. The government must fall. The disease has permeated the structure too deeply for mere cleansing.

      Our constitution was a thing of beauty. The mining corps began eviscerating it, with purchased amendments, before the ink was dry. I agree. It can't be saved, only used as an example of the growth of a malignant bureaucratic oligarchy.

      Who else in here is a remorseless murderer of the deserving?

      Many. You've begun the segregation.

      No, Pans and Choppy began it. You chose to assist. Lone?

      Leave me 'lone!

      You survived, Doctor. I intend to help you add to the total. However, right now, the only plan I can put into effect is a lesson plan.

      If you find one more interested in social than physical science, I'd enjoy doing one.

      I'm sure you've kept up with developments in the field.

      Every hour of yard time was a supplement, and every newscast an example.

      I wasn't a rebel.

      Neither was I, but I did kill eighty-seven members of the oligarchy.

      I hadn't killed, or even attempted to, before.

      You still haven't. You just smashed roaches.

      I distinctly remember them being too tall to stomp.

      They only put the biggest in here. Shit, a new one, and he's just a kid.

      There's no head. Let's break tradition.

      We could get killed trying. Let's go.

      Harim, I didn't like initiation. I suspect most didn't and many don't.

      Many do, but they don't prefer it to alive.

      Back off!

      Leave him 'lone!

      We haven't killed…several today.

      You could be very sick.

      Died of food poisoning, someone must have forgotten to clean something.

      It's traditional, Choppy!

      Do you like providing the guards with a good show, Belp?! How much do they get for selling vid of your pock going in and out? Or do they just use it to get tods nice and juicy?

      The men quieted in a wave that moved from the back of the 'mob' to the wall. The many men who always ignored 'initiation,' took interest. The wedge of eight widened and deepened rapidly as they moved forward. The guards were suddenly holding the very young man above an open area, in silence.

      Lone, Bard, and Harim were beneath the boy before the guards could decide what to do. Bard boosted Harim and he grabbed the young man's legs, yanking him out of the guards' hands. Bard and Lone caught them. Bard set Harim down. Lone carried the kid back through the quiet men to the corner. Many followed. He laid the young man in the corner, went back to the perimeter and sat down facing outward. Others sat down beyond him, facing outward. Before long, more joined them, sitting down and facing outward. The stasis cuffs disappeared and quick-heal salve and anti-bio inject dropped into the corner.

      They obviously started initiation early.

      They often do, Bard. You were too big for them to get closer than arms' length. Hello. He decided you shouldn't be dropped into a mob. All of the rest of us were. He was right. A lot didn't like the tradition. I'm Harim. I'm an assassin. I was caught. Once.

      I was a university student. It was inconvenient the people I was to be convicted of killing didn't die, but I was convicted anyway.

      I killed a 'respected businessman.' He was selling kids glide at his store and not mentioning it was laced with dream dust, to increase his regular customers.

      Where?

      Kellerton.

      Relax. He wouldn't kill you if it was Roper. His 'arrangement' is no one sells it to kids there.

      They don't. I always wondered why.

      It's fatal, and has been six years.

      Ritzi tried the function she'd seen Bard write on his data pad 'that' day. After a while, she was just sitting with her mouth open. Every exception disappeared and every rule fit within the framework. She commed Tarse.

      I've got the law of magic. The hero finds the spell for the magic sword the day the wizard's minions capture him, but he doesn't know he has it. It's just a little group of symbols he scribbles on a parchment.

      That's… a very interesting twist. You found something to make it look plausible.

      Yes, my hero found the magic function. The math assures me it fits the laws of magic. I've hit the delete key in disgust, because the magic did whatever the author needed to get out of a corner, too many times to want a total of wasted book purchase price.

      You're trying to find a way to put the math in there.

      I'll remember to call it a 'spell' in the book, and change the symbols. Panner does nice arcane symbol substitution.

      It's going to be a good book.

      I'm going to have to list author team.

      We're having fun helping. I want to see it. If you're sure you've got it…

      Oh, I'm sure. Now I have to figure out how he discovers it.

      If the wizard's minions got him…

      Straight to the deepest dungeon in the land, filled with terrible beasts.

      And others the wizard really dislikes.

      Ooh, you have just made my twist more interesting, but it's still a very deep dungeon, and he doesn't know he has the magic sword spell.

      Princess and bribable guard?

      Tarse, that's not up to your usual standard of suggestions.

      It's not pleasant outside.

      My place is a wreck. I have to move something so I can sit down. Five more would require…tomorrow.

      Mine would require day after. This will sound weird, but it's got a table five can sit at, a toilet, a cold keep and even a stove.

      Your uncle's party flyer?

      The only time he uses it is when he goes to Bressler U games and they're not playing anything against anyone for…seventeen days. It's closer than Morv's, it won't be noisy and he won't care if we empty the keeper and tea tin.

      And it won't cost a cred a cup.

      Friends' budgets were a consideration in the suggestion. We could even take it somewhere.

      My computer is here.

      It's got one.

      You just want to fly it.

      No, but I want to really use it. It sleeps six.

      Sleeps?!

      Bressler might get in the tourney and make it through all three days, someday.

      He's a true dreamer.

      He'd like it if I borrowed it to go somewhere it's not cold and wet, so we could work on the book. Shimmer Lake? Everyone has three days off. The side opens and there's a canopy with flaps to make sides, a cabinet with chairs… It won't be crowded and it's sunny and warm there.

      That worked. I am tired of gray and damp!

      I'll call my uncle and the others. You know where it is.

      Meet at?

      Put it on a datpad, throw three days of comfortable clothes in a carry and head.

      On my way.

      Panner thought it sounded great, especially the no-cost part. Lima succumbed to sunny. Garil agreed Tarse couldn't have talked Ritzi into it alone, but it was a good start. Brimmy wanted to see the flyer. His uncle said, Leave it clean. In a half-hour, they were headed for Shimmer Lake, not far from the 'deepest dungeon in the land.' Most of the guards lived in Shimmerton, forty-two K away. There was something closer, but only the six 'remembered' it. Ritzi had assured it.

      Lone was surprised when the kid, Demmon, asked if he had a cellmate. Not by the question, by the way he asked it. He looked back at Bard, then down at the kid beside him.

      How did you know that?

      I recognized you.

      From where?

      Your picture in my mother's Lorenton U yearbook. She said you with the best prof she ever had, but hers was the only class that you taught because they handed you an 'approved' text and you…

      Executed eighty-seven people. What was her name?

      Kammie Lorenz.

      I remember her. She was a good student. Did she get her degree?

      In biology. She switched majors after… She said the person who wrote the text for her next class had never read one. She returned it and switched majors before the first session. It took her an extra term to graduate, but she likes her job at the aquaculture lab. You don't think about… the pain your parents suffer. I left a note on my mom's door, with why, before they caught me. If I hadn't, she'd have still been sure I had a reason. I told her the police knew, and it was probably a nice income supplement, so she'd never hear my reason, just a motive that made sure… I ended up here.

      The two behind us killed seven in five days, among two large groups, not a few at a time, and they could have killed all. They didn't initiate it. This is the first day I've carried on a conversation in twenty-six years, or told someone my name. Today, we learned how many killed with good reason and aren't beasts, when many stepped forward to end the initiation tradition. The pack of brutes had no leader, or they couldn't have done it. Every man in here has proved he's deadly. Over there somewhere, are women who have. It isn't as brutal as this was. There aren't as many and we aren't built the same. There are beasts among them, but I suspect they're not in the majority and haven't been for two decades. I wasn't a rebel. I didn't want to overthrow the government, just remove the people controlling it. I became one today. Bard pointed out it's too stained to cleanse.

      I wasn't one, either. There comes a time you must either do what's right or throw away every ideal and ethic. If that's kill because the government supports the evil, it's suddenly clear 'rebel' is part of the choice. I think the gov makes and supplies dream dust. It's always overlooked and no one who sells it is here. How many are here because they killed someone selling it?

      Many. Most here killed for good reason. It's time.

      Lone stood and held his arms out in front of him. Bard watched as seated men were touched and turned to look. The men in the rest of the yard were soon paying attention, too. When they all were, Lone took a deep breath and his deep voice rang through the compound.

      I have been here twenty-six years! Until today, I spoke to none of what I had done! Until today, no one has asked one question! How many are here because they killed one selling dream dust, or to end other evil the police or government knew of, but would not stop?!

      Demmon stood. Harim walked forward and all in the corner, but Bard and Choppy, followed. Men who had been seated stood. Then men began to walk toward the corner from all over the yard. Bard walked forward and shouted he hadn't killed anyone, or tried, but the government was disappointed six students didn't die and he didn't know how to build a secret weapon and didn't want him mentioning it. He asked if any others were there because the gov didn't want them mentioning things. All the men still seated around the corner, nine, stood and seventeen more walked forward from other parts of the yard.

      A man walked forward and shouted he'd killed someone because he was supplementing his income reporting rebels and reported several who weren't to get the money. Choppy stood and walked forward. Another man shouted he'd killed because he figured the gov would offer the person a job if they knew what he did. More walked forward.

      In the span of three minutes, the segregation was complete and all but Lone were stunned by the result. Over two-thirds had walked to the side of the yard around the corner. Once they had, the men on their side of the yard went into the cellblock. In nine minutes, it had been segregated. There were four empty cells between the two ends of the cellblock, and every cell on the high end had 'crud' in the corners.

      The guards just watched it happen. The warden had been sent a message when the initiation hadn't taken place, but he hadn't answered. The guards knew why. His comm didn't forward messages when he was with a playmate. One said he wouldn't be happy. Another said he'd use the same excuse the women's warden did. It reduced violence and reports to be written. It had happened there over a decade before.

      In the morning, work was also segregated. The warden didn't check his messages when he got home. When he did, he wrote a report stating action had been taken to segregate the most violent segment of the population after the riot and order was restored.

      Chapter Two

      Ritzi, Tarse, Lima, Brimmy, Garil and Panner talked about what they could do with what they'd discovered, and how to get a message to Bard they had it. Eventually, they decided the message might get to him if it didn't look like a message and the bribe was attractive enough. They discarded the idea of a threat for non-delivery. Eventually, they discarded the idea of addressing it. Ritzi wrote the function on a piece of dispo-towel. They put most of the cash they'd accumulated, which they wouldn't need to buy parts, in an envelope they made from another dispo-towel.

      They flew into Shimmerton to 'buy supplies.' They overheard a conversation and Lima followed the right person, a guard's 'friend,' out of a store. She showed her the message and told her it was from a girl who wanted Bard to know she couldn't forget him. The woman agreed she was a hopeless romantic and it was a dumb way to spend two hundred fifty credits, but fifty of it were hers if she could find a guard who'd drop the piece of toweling in, for two hundred.

      Lima pulled a text up and showed her the function wasn't a secret formula or anything, but the girl was sure he'd know who sent it, and had given her the whole thing, and a little spending money, when she'd learned she'd be going to Shimmerton. Then she smiled and said she recognized a woman smart enough to get fifty and two hundred spent on her, too. The woman returned the smile and took the fifty, the note and the envelope, and noted she was pretty romantic, too, especially when it paid nicely. When she left the woman, Lima cleared the text with the replaced function.

      Two days after 'segregation day,' a piece of toweling floated down into the corner. Since guards often dropped trash in, it would have been ignored until morning sweep-up if it had been a whole dispo-towel and hadn't landed function side up. Since none of the guards would 'write math,' it was passed to Bard.

      He stared at it a moment, then burst into laughter, when he remembered where it came from. If the IS had grabbed him even a half-day later, he'd have had the formula for a 'secret weapon.' He told Harim he should have worked his way up to asking the girl to go dancing faster, and he still planned to someday. Harim looked around and said he wasn't quite as sure it was an impossible dream as he had been.

      So, what do people wear to places like that?

      Don't you think it's a little early to be planning your attire?

      Probably a bit, but I didn't think I'd have any trouble with the dancing part. A couple of the kids sang and danced when they got great marks on an exam and I practiced a little in my room, but I didn't know what to wear.

      About anything that shows off your body and doesn't look like you're going to work or a real fancy party.

      I was sure I didn't have anything appropriate. Show-off-body wasn't in my wardrobe.

      You've been caged your whole life.

      No, Choppy. My parents weren't killed in the Kafter lab explosion until I was six. I'd already showed I inherited their gifts in Ed programs. The IS might have gotten what they wanted if they hadn't grabbed me and tried to kill everyone else in the research lab, but the excited talk wasn't about that project and they destroyed two decades of work on the shield that kept the others alive. They wanted a secret weapon and thought grabbing me and killing the others would assure it was secret. I was convicted of doing it. I doubt the 'public record' of my trial is in public record, but I'm sure it has the 'proof,' in case one of the survivors of my 'attempt' found it. I wonder how many rebels they made.

      IS keeps searching for a lead to the rebel organization and there isn't one. There can't be. The truth scan and comm monitoring prevent any small group from joining with others to build one, but IS makes more rebels every time they search for one. The government will fall in a true people's uprising, each individual deciding he too will do something to bring it down, or it will not fall. I believe, sometime in the near future, one group will decide there are enough others who want it ended and begin a series of acts against it and the populace will rise to assist, because all who are not in collusion want it ended, even if they have not named themselves rebels in their own minds.

      I agree, Lone. One, two or several decide something must be stopped, but truth scan doesn't lead to others, then more and more. It ends with those who committed the act. The only place a rebel organization could exist is in prisons, where no outside communication is allowed. There are four. This one, the women's, and the men's and women's rebel prisons. But beyond these walls, hundreds of thousands wait for a sign the rebellion has begun.

      I thought no one would free anyone here, if the gov did fall. I don't believe that now.

      My mother would come for me, Harim.

      The ones who know I didn't try to kill them will come for me.

      My sister knows why I killed a man, too well.

      Men around them nodded assent. That evening, the men discussed the realizations that had come with the segregation. Some had former cellmates on the other side of the yard, but none had friends there. There were men they didn't dislike, who they'd lived with or worked beside, but they didn't consider them friends. They'd been thrown together by assignment and made the best of it, but all friends were among them.

      They discussed the fact the guards had done nothing to stop the segregation or end it and decided they had enough problems explaining bodies, and the warden might take credit for peace restored. They knew he had the next day.

      The walls across the yard and between the segregated work areas were only two meters high, but they had no doors. There were doors in those between the high and low ends of the cellblock and splitting the meal hall. New doors had been cut into work areas and meal hall from the low side. In the meal hall kitchen, the tray conveyors had been changed. One went out and one in on each side of the wall between the sections. The men rearranged the line some to make it less inconvenient, but none complained. When the early shift went into the yard, they sat down in the middle, not the corner of it.

      Too fast not to have been done before.

      Copied from the women's prison, Choppy.

      I think you're right, Pans. I feel so much safer. I got my own room in Hell, and the demons can't get in.

      The only problem is new ones.

      They'll put them in on this side, Pans.

      Why are you so sure, Bard?

      Because the ones on the other side would kill them without any to yell 'enough.' Every new one would at least require a medical report.

      They're not all that vicious, Bard.

      No, Choppy, but there are no caring, gentle men among them. Any who were would have found words to come to the side, even if only they were young and stupid, or wanted to be with us and not them. I don't believe none could be rehabilitated, but I don't believe any have been. By the end, any who didn't come forward had made the choice to stay with what was familiar to them, with rules of survival they understand. Those seventy-three are those who are remorseless killers, who would do it again. The number is appropriate for the population of this world, if you realize only those the gov is sure can't be controlled enough to be employed 'usefully' are there.

      That's what Lone meant when he said the number is now correct.

      I got a real fast statistical computation, Dripper. He's been researching it for twenty-six years. He was just waiting for 'the numbers to indicate the probability of success.' He spoke to no one because anything he said might have had an effect, or forewarned the guards. He listened to every word said around him and said none. I couldn't have, but I'm not the scientist he is.

      One after another, the four of the six with jobs, commed employers and requested vacation time, all pointing out it was really a more convenient time than that usually requested. One employer fervently agreed, two admonished they were supposed to request in advance and the fourth yelled Garil was so involved in that damn book he wasn't working and hoped they'd get it done, so he remembered he was on this planet! Garil smiled widely and said, Thanks.

      She was great.

      Fantastic, Panner. She made sure no one had a reason to come into the lab until I got the shield built and that she didn't know I was building something, just working on things in the book.

      They were all great. It's time to go shopping again. This time in Vairdslea. Here are your student IDs and your purchase orders. Exact amount in cash.

      Cash is a little odd, Ritzi.

      If anyone says something, tell them the prof complained about getting one draft for equipment for seven projects. The Institute business office is notorious for including all department grants in one draft and leaving them with the chore of splitting it to open project accounts.

      The prof is too smart to end up paying a fee for emptying an account the day it opened.

      That's the cash reason, Panner, if you need one.

      Vairdslea is the closest place we're sure we won't be paying Shimmerton prices for food. I'll be shopping for groceries with my Brightway Buyers Club card. Try to get to the coffee shop early enough you all obviously just looked around while I was loading carts. Optimum city transport time and route in blue on the maps, secondary yellow, orange is nervous and red I'll be waiting for you in the flyer, probably in the toilet.

      With the rest of us already there yelling we need a turn, Tarse.

      Eighty-seven minutes later, Ritzi took four IDs off the table and dropped five in the cycler. All had made it back on blue. They were in the coffee shop, excitedly talking about having their vacations to finish getting the hero out of the dungeon with the magic sword, when IS checked their presence in Vairdslea. Tarse yelled, Load up! and they followed two auto-carts across the parking lot to the flyer pads on the outside corner, right beside a public transport stop.

      IS verified no tech had been purchased from any of the Technical Institute suppliers without purchase orders and Institute identification and then verified those. As soon as they had, five disappeared from Vairdslea Technical Institute files. The deletion completion sent a ping to a computer in Richland, then the deletion program vanished. The computer that received the ping deleted nine programs, thirty-two directories and eleven thousand two hundred ninety-six files. The program to delete them began storage defragmentation and deleted itself.

      When defragmentation was complete, a program emptied the deleted file directory, deleted eleven space holder files, the record of the defrag, reset clock time to correct time and vanished, no copy made in deleted file directory and no hole left in very high address storage.

      Bard chose a time it was busy and noisy in the kitchen and softly told Harim they needed to put a big X on a wall, outside. Harim almost dropped a pan. Bard managed to suppress a giggle. He held out his hand with the bit of toweling in the palm and grinned.

      Wrote it on a datpad to try next. She remembered.

      The girl you wanted to ask to dance.

      You're jealous.

      I am… jealous. It's a surprise.

      Harim, I love you. That won't change, no matter who else I love, too. You're my best friend. The first real friend I've had. I'll still want your company, and still want to make love with you.

      You… all of it?

      Yes, I all-of-it. Harim, you're my equal.

      I don't understand. Lone…

      Is brilliant, but wouldn't have learned what you have in a year. Not starting where you did. I could have.

      Yes, because I don't know another who could have learned what you have either, except me.

      Why did you choose to allow yourself to be caught? I know why Lone did, but you've never told me why you did.

      Here, my client didn't have to try to kill me. It's difficult for dead people to keep promises.

      You didn't know who or they'd have learned.

      I truthfully answered I killed her because I wanted to. An X.

      This end.

      A good idea. I love you.

      No. You're essential. It's a good idea. Without the idea, 'Damn, seventy-three to find.' Without you, vast knowledge lost and a gaping wound in my soul that would never heal. You don't say goodbye to me.

      You really do…

      All of it.

      Hey! Steam in pans now!

      Yes, Choppy! But don't ask Bard to get something from the bottom shelf! I'll think about it.

      Ritzi grabbed Tarse's hand, grabbed a blanket and pulled him out of the flyer. Lima, Brimmy, Garil and Panner burst into laughter. Waiting until they look us over had gotten on Ritzi's nerves and Tarse looked so stunned.

      I've been waiting for that.

      Everyone but Tarse has, Lima.

      She decided he'll recover, when she tells him he's choice for best friend, but she doesn't have faithful in her repertoire and has no intention of learning it.

      She's been trying to figure out how for five years, Garil.

      She's been trying to figure out how to get off the pedestal and into bed for five, Panner.

      She does have a thing for Bard.

      Who doesn't, Brimmy? Even the guys noticed him.

      I noticed he was big, brilliant, gorgeous and didn't have a clue, Lima. I was beginning to hate the gov for what it did to him before it did this to him. And before we held Tarse together to keep him alive, until the medics got there. His uncle has been packing everything he could think of Tarse might need, to tear it apart, in this flyer for a year.

      He could get him everything but what we got today and Ritzi. She wasn't going to prepare for anything until she knew where he was.

      She couldn't imagine them 'wasting' him. She really did think they had him stashed somewhere, trying to convince him a lower echelon idiot had ordered it and wouldn't do it again, until she saw they convicted him of it.

      Enough. Book and magic sword. The hero knows the spell exists and he found it, but just opening a hole would let lots of beasts loose.

      How many are beasts and how many are people who fought the evil of the wizard and were made to look like beasts, Lima?

      And how many beasts are roaming the land disguised as people?

      The wizard has many minions. Most in the dungeon aren't beasts. The only ones there are those the wizard can't control enough to disguise.

      If the hero knows he has the spell for the magic sword, wouldn't he start separating them?

      How would he know?

      People beasts wouldn't attack. If most are people-beasts… there would be a point where they'd realize it, but they hadn't yet, or the wizard wouldn't have sent him there.

      The hero would be a catalyst.

      You're sure of it.

      I'm sure no one could scare him into pretending he's a beast like all the others, to keep beasts from attacking, Brimmy. At some point, he'd take the side of the attacked.

      A people-beast would recognize him as a hero and guard his back.

      You're sure, Garil.

      He's not dead. Someone is guarding his back, Brimmy. The hero is big and beautiful. He had fangs and claws, but he didn't know how to use them. 'Instinct' wouldn't be enough. I think a people-beast had to… claim him to keep him alive.

      We've got another hero?

      Many of them, Panner, but they're… small heroes. They battled evil that rose before them, not turned away. They'd want to help the hero, but it would take one the beasts feared. I don't think a people-beast would choose to be the type of pack leader it would take to rule the beasts of the dungeon.

      I don't either, Lima, but how could a people-beast… By being the maddest, deadliest beast in the dungeon. Walk carefully around it and leave it alone. It would take a very smart people-beast, who really knew how to use fangs and claws, to be the maddest beast.

      And the real maddest beasts, Garil?

      Wouldn't survive if they attacked other beasts.

      We've got a people-beast, so deadly he scares the pack, who recognizes the hero? Are we getting improbable?

      By the time Ritzi and Tarse came in, they had a scenario, but the maddest, scariest, deadliest people-beast hero had to already have skill using fangs and claws to make it plausible. They decided he'd had practice disguising he was a hero and been beast who couldn't be controlled, or the wizard would have recruited him. After that, they got stuck. How could a hero that smart, deadly and adept at beast disguise have ended up in the dungeon? Tarse said, Only by choice, and they all looked at him. He asked where the maddest-beast-hero could have learned everything. They came up with nine possibles and got them down to four probables quickly. Garil suddenly grabbed the input board and five watched him open news archives and type in a search criteria.

      Dream dust in Roper?

      Roper district in Jenneara is real odd for a subsidized district, Brimmy. Dream dust ODs among kids just don't happen there. Dead-no-suspects-no-motive do, but I remember… there. There was a live cam on the body when they rolled it over, or those packets of dream dust would have never been mentioned.

      And been nicely profitable sold elsewhere. Selling dream dust isn't allowed in Roper?

      It's sold, Panner, but no one's paying the minions to guard the merchants and kids don't OD, so selling it to them is fatal.

      We've got a hero who made a deal with a demon to go to the dungeon?

      To not reveal the deal, Brimmy, and that's the only place the demon would be sure he wouldn't, but the demon may not be sure the hero couldn't get out if he chose to.

      We're making more hero than possible.

      Not if the demon wanted to keep the deal.

      A demon with ethics?

      A business-demon who thinks short-term regular customers are a waste?

      One who thinks people should be old enough to understand the vice they're buying will kill them and who doesn't sell it, or pay to protect those who do. As close to a hero as a demon can get.

      Over six years? Get a comparison with Pastonville, Kellerton and Jamis Quarter in Silvertown.

      We've got a demon powerful enough the wizard doesn't send minions against it, but would if a deal was known? It's a credulity stretch.

      Not any longer, Ritzi. There he is.

      He's a monster!

      No, Brimmy, she was a soul-sucking demon. Paying protection for pushers was probably just a rider on the property insurance. That description doesn't tell you what the real estate was like. She was a slumlord. Most of the property she owned was gov-subsidized apartments. The 'philanthropy' was the deodorizer to cover the stench of vermin-infested shit and garbage piled beside buildings with non-operative cyclers.

      Stated he's an assassin, but killed her because he wanted to. He didn't get paid! He got a promise and told the truth.

      And allowed them to catch him, Lima.

      Huh, uh. He arranged for them to catch him, Brimmy.

      I agree, Tarse. He looks very different from this perspective. He's beautiful.

      Ow!

      Tarse.

      I'll work on it, Ritzi.

      You want to wait another five years until I decide to attempt to get out of the princess costume again?

      No. The costume still fits.

      Thanks, but the chastity belt chafes.

      I didn't notice it was included in the design.

      This princess is wearing pants and vaulting onto a horse to go after more heroes. I plan to find the right time to bodyslam them on a bed, too, but yours will always be the hand I grab for fun with a friend. I love you, Tarse, but aesthetic appreciation segues right into tactile once in awhile. I'm real picky, but I'm not monogamous.

      I'm real jealous, but I'll kick it into a corner and ignore it.

      That's what I do.

      Huh?

      I said, 'I love you,' and you're surprised I have to ignore jealous? Dense. We've got a hero who learned to use fangs and claws and a mad beast disguise, probably before he was ten, as little and pretty as he is.

      He's a gemtrove lizard. Sleek, glittering beauty and the deadliest thing on the planet. And we're all sure he's with the hero. Why?

      Because he was terribly lonely his whole life and the hero was the first who needed him, who was worthy of his friendship, not just his skill.

      That was available to any who needed it, Lima. Some of them paid for it.

      Ooh, now that's an interesting twist, Garil.

      He's been there six years. He was eighteen, by four days.

      We really think he's with Bard?

      I think he's with our hero because he'd know he was special. Our hero would see through the disguise, as soon as he looked in his eyes, and see he was his equal. He chose to live by ideals, because everything around him tried to destroy them, and learned to more than survive.

      He didn't have time to learn anything else, Lima.

      But now his back is guarded too. They both have a lot to teach.

      He's with the hero.

      Sudden sureness, Tarse.

      It was the function that suddenly eliminated all the exceptions, Ritzi.

      They were sitting under the canopy beside the flyer, working on how the hero and companion would learn which were beasts and which were people the wizard had made beasts, when a boat went slowly past. Tarse and Brimmy waved. The other four glanced, sort of waved and continued working.

      Garil reminded beasts ran in packs and there wouldn't be many the wizard couldn't control enough to make minions and disguise as people. Ritzi agreed a few would have realized there were many more people-beasts and it wouldn't take long.

      Brimmy said she was chilly and Tarse lowered the canopy sides, then turned on the lights in the frame, when Garil complained of low light. Lima and Ritzi both groaned, when he and Brimmy were suddenly more interested in how the canopy was built than the scene they were building. Tarse laughed and lowered the front, then led them out and showed the latch mechanisms. Ritzi opened the door.

      Tarse, drop the back flap and extend the floor. Were going to spread out.

      Were not going to retract for awhile?

      No, there's no reason to move.

      It won't extend with objects in the way.

      "Panner's got the chairs moved. I'm

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