Fractured Mind Episode One (A Galactic Coalition Academy Series) (10 page)

Before he could stop himself, he reached out
a hand and pressed it against the intercom button on the panel by
the door.

He had to wait a few agonizing seconds
before somebody answered.

“Who's there?” A light female voice
intoned.

“Is that Cadet Sinclair?” he asked,
realizing too late it wasn't her.

There was a certain strength behind Sarah
Sinclair's words – even if half the time they wavered with
fragility. There was something else behind them, this steady
constant that reminded you of a rock holding up a mountain.

“No, it's Cadet Nora Falcone. Who is
this?”

Now was when he should turn away. Mutter
something about the fact he had the wrong room, and get out of here
while he still had his pride.

He ignored his pride, kept his finger
pressed into the intercom button, and cleared his throat. “This is
Lieutenant Karax. Is Cadet Sinclair there?”

There was a lengthy pause at the other end
of the line.

Karax knew he had a reputation around the
Academy, especially with the cadets. A deserved reputation. He was
hard on them, deliberately brutal so their training would prepare
them for reality. If that meant they were all terrified of him, so
be it.

Even as he thought that, he realized it was
poles apart from the entire premise of him coming here.

The hardened, stiff-lipped Lieutenant Karax
wasn't the kind of guy to come groveling at a cadet's feet for
forgiveness.

But did he turn away?

No.

The door opened.

He recognized the cadet standing behind it,
if only because he'd seen her with Sarah a few times.

He'd also seen her deliberately withdraw
from Sarah over the past several months. Only this morning he'd
seen her ignore Sarah on her way to the training ground.

Now the same cadet crossed her arms and
stared at him, her anger barely controlled. “If you're here to make
sure Sarah leaves the grounds, it doesn't matter, she's already
gone.”

“She has?” Disappointment sank through his
gut faster than a stone in freefall.

She crossed her arms tighter, the move
scrunching the smooth fabric of her regulation uniform. “She didn't
even wait around for me to finish class,” Nora said through a
grimace.

She darted her gaze to the side and locked
it on the wall, not looking his way.

He'd seen this Cadet Nora earlier today when
Sarah had quit the Academy. She hadn't even looked Sarah's way,
hadn't even acknowledged what her friend was going through.

And now she appeared to be blaming him for
everything.

He was already on edge, but this tipped him
over the precipice. “Is there something on your mind, cadet?”

An ordinary cadet in an ordinary situation
would have taken heed of his tone and muttered a quick, “No.”

Nora flashed her gaze back to him.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Permission granted.”

“She didn't deserve that. She was trying
hard to change. You pushed too hard today,” her voice cracked, “She
didn't deserve for that to happen so publicly.”

If Karax allowed himself to go with the
anger crackling through his gut, he would take the opportunity to
point out Nora was a hypocrite. It was all too easy to get angry at
him when she herself had ignored Sarah entirely.

Though Karax wasn't known for his tact, he
did possess it, and with one look at Nora's tortured expression, he
chose to use it. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. “It is
unfortunate that the cadet quit in that way. However, do you know
when she left?”

“What do you want her for? She already left
a message saying she's attended to all official matters. She's
cleaned her room, too. There's nothing left,” Nora's voice became
small, “She didn't even leave any contact details.”

Karax's mouth was open, and he'd just been
about to ask how he could contact Sarah.

He stopped.

Nora jerked her distracted gaze off the
floor and settled it on him. “What do you want her for, anyway?”
she repeated.

This was where a smart man, a smart
lieutenant, would stay quiet. He should press his lips closed, nod
goodbye, and walk away. Instead, he took a breath. “I'm here,
because I wanted to apologize to her.”

At first Nora looked at him as if she
thought he was joking.

When he held her gaze and didn't break into
laughter, she stared at him in complete confusion. “What? But
you're the one who told her she shouldn't be here.”

His stomach sank with guilt.

Now that image of Sarah thrashing on the
floor by his feet was joined by another – the way she'd looked at
him as she'd walked from the hall.

Both competed for permanent residency in the
back of his mind.

He swallowed, the move hard as he fought
against his suddenly dry throat. “I'm not backing down on my
decision. I still think it's best that Sarah leave the Academy. But
it could have...” he dropped his gaze to the floor, “Should have,”
he put more force into his words as he jerked his gaze up, “Gone
differently. You're absolutely right, she didn't deserve to leave
like that, with no one at her side and no one to defend her.” His
comment was pointed, and it wasn't lost on the cadet.

She took an uncomfortable breath and looked
as if she'd swallowed something bitter.

She shifted backwards and clenched her jaw.
“Well none of that matters now, does it? Because she's gone and she
hasn't left any contact information.”

“Maybe there's something on her file,” he
commented, mostly for himself.

Nora's eyes suddenly widened and she took a
step forward. “Do you think there could be?”

He paused as he stared at her, assessing
her.

Though a part of him wanted to write her off
for what she'd done to Sarah, the rest understood where she was
coming from.

“If I manage to obtain her contact details,
would you like me to forward them to you, cadet?”

“If you could, sir I...” her eyes jerked
open even wider, “I'd appreciate that,” she added weakly.

“I'll see what I can do.” He turned to
leave, but stopped.

He shifted over his shoulder to look at
Nora. “Do you think Sarah will be okay on her own?” His question
came from nowhere.

Nora didn't hesitate. She pressed her lips
closed and shook her head. “No,” she said in a quiet tone. “No, I
don't think she will.”

There was something about the quiet
certainty behind Nora's words that sent cold dread marching up his
spine.

Again he swallowed, but this time it was one
of the most uncomfortable moves he'd ever made.

A spark of panic ignited in his gut. “...
The Academy medical staff would not have allowed her to leave
campus without a medical plan in place,” he suddenly said, not for
Nora's benefit, but for his own.

He had to quash the tide of guilt rising
through his gut somehow.

His weak promise, however, wasn't
enough.

Nora looked him right in the eyes. “Do you
really believe that, lieutenant?”

Nerves traced over his cheeks as a cold
feeling pushed hard into his chest. He forced a nod, but it was a
weak move. Anyone with half an ounce of sense would know he was
lying.

Finally he followed through with common
sense, nodded at the cadet, said a curt goodbye, and left the
room.

As soon as the doors swished closed behind
him, he stopped and drove his eyes shut. He squeezed them until he
felt the skin around them was so tight it could crack.

Bringing a hand up and pressing it over the
bridge of his nose, he let out a sharp sigh and pushed forward.

He didn't make it far until his WD
beeped.

It was the admiral, and he was being called
back to training.

He never shirked his duty.

Never. It was the only thing that could hold
back the guilt he felt for not being able to protect his family on
the colony worlds.

But right now, for the first time ever, he
considered asking the admiral for a reprieve.

The only thing he wanted to do right now was
find out where Sarah Sinclair had gone.

If he didn't find her and apologize, he knew
he'd stew over this for months, if not years.

But the admiral wouldn't take no for an
answer, and soon he found himself powering down the corridor,
heading back to Sora.

As soon as he thought about her, his hackles
rose and a distinct cold pressure welled in the center of his
chest.

If he'd had the time and the presence of
mind, he would have realized it was a sense of foreboding.

A justified one.

For Lieutenant Karax was wrong – Earth,
despite her defenses, was no longer the safest place in the Milky
Way.

Sarah Sinclair

It felt right being alone.

The further she travelled from the Academy
grounds, the saner she became.

It was like she was claiming back her
self-respect, her dignity, her frigging sanity.

Though she fleetingly thought about
travelling into space, she simply didn't have the funds.

Her only option was to head to a cheap city,
find a job, and....

Sarah huddled in the corner of the superfast
train. She was seated on the last seat in the carriage, and
fortunately no one had bothered sitting next to her.

A few other humans and aliens were dotted
through the carriage, plugged into their personal communication
devices or watching the holographic news panel in the far corner of
the carriage.

A few times her gaze flicked up to it. It
cycled through galactic news. None of it pretty.

Soon, a speculative news report started. It
managed to get her attention... and she didn't know why.

Suddenly a race of nerves sank hard into her
gut, spreading through her chest and charging up her neck.

She was glad she was sitting alone. That
terrifying sensation saw her shift forward and press a hand flat
over her chest, a hiss pressing through her suddenly bloodless
lips.

As soon as the brunt of the feeling passed,
her gaze was drawn back to the holographic news feed, her attention
riveted on it, her eyes so wide they could have toppled into her
lap.

She was aware of the fact she was barely
breathing.

She couldn't hear the news report – just a
faint echo.

Immediately she jerked one hand onto the
panel beside her seat, switching on the audio and grabbing the
jawbone device. It was a circular thin sheet of metal that adhered
to her jaw as she slapped it on. Instantly it used sophisticated
vibrations to play the audio stream right into her inner ear.

“... There's some speculation the Academy is
on the verge of acquiring true-intelligence holograms,” the news
continued.

It showed a sweeping view of Academy
grounds.

Sarah couldn't move. Not an inch.

It felt like someone had soldered her to the
spot, driving foot-long rivets through her legs and anchoring her
to the floor and seat with all the force of an atomic bond.

“Inside sources claim Academy officials
have already met with Corthanx Traders – the only known group to
currently possess this technology outside of the Ornax.”

The Ornax...? Sarah had to search her
memory, but it eventually came to her. She didn't make a habit of
watching these speculative news programs – they were usually
implausible stories concocted from misrepresented facts.

The Ornax, apparently, were a growing new
threat in Coalition space. Some new irrepressible enemy. Ever since
the rebuilder incident, the media had changed. They kept looking
under every rock for new enemies, new sources of drama. As if they
just didn't know how to report on peace anymore.

Though Sarah knew all this, she couldn't
turn away. Nor could she unlock the tensed hand from her chest.
With every second it pushed harder and harder against her plain
top, crinkling it and leaving sweaty track marks over the
fabric.

“Approaching next stop: Hunan Province, New
China.”

Sarah jolted, the train's audio cutting
through the news piece.

It took her a second to realize this was her
stop.

She wanted to stay and watch the rest of the
broadcast. No – needed to. It had stolen her attention way, focused
her like a laser.

A second later, however, it ended, and the
holographic footage smoothly moved on to another segment.

Suddenly the panel beside her beeped.
“Passenger Sinclair, Sarah – this is your stop.”

She jolted to her feet, her movements so
twitchy it felt like someone had passed an electric shock through
her nervous system.

Though she wanted to stay on the train in
the hope the news feed would repeat itself, she couldn't.

She'd only paid for a ticket this far.

She reluctantly grabbed her bags from a
storage compartment at her feet, hauled them over her shoulder,
pulled the jawbone attachment off her face, and walked out of the
train.

It had taken her all of 30 minutes to get
from the Academy, half way across the world, to New China.

There were quicker ways to travel. She
couldn't afford them. As it was, she'd have to start looking for
work immediately.

... Maybe that should have daunted Sarah,
but as soon as she walked out onto the platform and saw the
stunning tree-covered peaks pulling up to the horizon, she
instantly calmed.

Even the terror of that broadcast couldn't
change one fact – she no longer felt as if someone was walking over
her grave.

All it had taken was getting some distance
from the Academy.

She drew in a breath, reveling in the
mountain air.

She'd arrived in Old Zhangjiajie. Despite
being a modern galactic city, it had retained a great deal of its
old-world charm. Pristine new glass and metal structures were
flanked by dense forests, dotted through with streams, and forever
chirping with the sounds of insects.