Wild Thing (57 page)

'
Yes!'

Leeth startled both men by leaping into the air, somersaulting, and landing on her feet.  One fist punched up into the air.

'I'm gonna be a
super-spy!
'

She leaned forward, onto Eagle's desk.  'Can I have a cyborg dog companion?  Faith and me make a
great
team!'

Eagle looked at Harmon.  Then back to Leeth.  'No, Leeth, I have more subtle plans for your skill set.  Besides, Faith is still needed at the Institute.'

Another door opened and an armored drone gently buzzed into the room, to escort the two from the room, deeper inwards – Harmon in a daze, Leeth still exuberant, chattering excitedly.

Eagle turned away, gazing thoughtfully into the distance.  He'd been right to maneuver those two together.

Now the second stage could begin.

AFTERWORD

I hope you've enjoyed the start of Leeth's story, as much as I enjoyed writing it.  If so, you may be pleased to know that the sequel, titled
Harsh Lessons
, is basically complete.  I expect to publish it mid-2016.

Previously it was going to be titled
Shadow Hunt –
but that's now reserved for the 3
^rd
volume, which should be ready in early 2017.

If you enjoyed this, and would like to let others know that, please read on a little further while I rabbit on about “the new publishing industry” and how you can help, if you wish.  I think authors and readers could be on the cusp of a golden age, should they choose to take control…
 

PUBLISHING, 2015

Although my hopes are to the contrary, I rather suspect this book won't take the world by storm.  So I think I can afford to offer to personally respond if you have questions or suggestions on the blog I've set up for it and its sequels,
All About Leeth
.

This book has been self-published, and I've decided to do something brave, or perhaps dopey: apart from doing what I can at a personal level, I'm basically leaving the marketing of the book to word of mouth.  That means I'm leaving it up to you.  If you liked it, please mention it – in conversation, or on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Google+, Twitter… whatever you prefer.  If you enjoyed it, that'd be a way to thank me which I'll much appreciate.

Also, if you notify me of
errors
in this book before anyone else, and trust me with your email address, I'll send you a free electronic copy of the sequel as soon as it's ready.  It's hard to find every error, but I believe that with help, perfection
is
achievable.  (I'll then release updated versions of the book with each correction, so each reader will benefit.)  I do, however, reserve the right to decide if something is a genuine error and not just my peculiar style!

If you'd like a sneak peek of what's in store for Leeth, I've included Chapter 1 of the sequel,
Harsh Lessons
.  How much more trouble can Leeth get into?

And please do tell people if you enjoyed this: I'm depending on you.

Thanks!

Eh?  I didn't say anything about Publishing in 2015?

Surely….  Oh.  I see.  You're right.  Okay.  So, this book was self-published.  In my view, the power of publication is in the process of being taken from the hands of the giant traditional publishing companies; also changing is the huge part that luck plays in finding a publisher's editor or Reader who shares the author's vision.  Instead, I think all of that is being placed in the author's own hands.

The downside, however, is that the problem of discovering a new book in a genre you like has suddenly become harder; and the problem of separating the
good
books from the not-so-good, harder still.  In the rapidly-evolving self-publishing “industry,” much is written and much is theorized about how to solve these problems.  Many gurus say you need lots of followers on Twitter, or that you must pay to have your book promoted to large groups of people; along with many other ideas.

My hope, though, is that the ideal solution may be quite straightforward, and lies in the hands of readers simply doing what comes naturally.  If you like a book (this or any other), tell the people you think it might also appeal to. 
Tweet
or
Like
it.  I think that if you, the reader, does that, then truly good books will be discovered in exactly the measure they deserve.

I also think that taking this approach puts all the success of a book in the hands of just two groups, the
right
groups: readers, who decide both what they like
and
how much; and authors, who write the best books they can.  No one else.  No middle men, no advertisers, no outside arbiters of taste.

Oh.  And reviews….

If you really want to go above and beyond, consider writing a review – easily done on
Goodreads
or
Amazon
, or your blog if you have one.

For myself, I'm happy to make this offer: if you're one of the first twenty people to publish a substantive (say, a hundred words or more) and honest review of
Wild Thing
, good or bad, and then send me your email address, I'll add you to the list of people who will receive a free electronic copy of
Harsh Lessons
when it's ready, for putting in the effort to help make the new self-publishing industry work.

Without further ado, here's the 1st chapter of the
Wild Thing
sequel.  I'm confident it will be ready for publication in the 1
^st
half of 2016.

L. J. Kendall, December 2015. (Updated, June 2016.)

Twitter
:
@LukeJKendall
 

HARSH LESSONS, CH 1

Agent Emma Salt, her slim figure hugged by the white, zip-fastened cat-suit, followed the maze of underground corridors leading to the Department's private dojo and gymnasium.  The new inductee would be there, having her first session with Paul Kawatsu. 
A first session with Dojo in the dojo.
  She shook her head.  Why did Paul's unimaginative code name bother her so much?  The wrongness of it was like an itch she couldn't quite reach.  Maybe the
other
new inductee could tell her – he was a trained psychologist, Mother had said.  She wondered what he'd be like.  And the girl, too.  Young, they'd said.

Gods!  She was actually excited by the prospect of a new face. 
I've been between missions too long.
  She wished James were back.  But a new face would do as well, for a while.

Of course, each person joined the Bureau with a clean slate and no obligation to discuss their past. 
Thank god!
  Although in practice – with sympathetic listeners who were sworn to secrecy – well, things came out in their own time.  Meanwhile, though, there was the opportunity to penetrate a pleasant little mystery from whatever inadvertent clues were dropped.

Sometimes it wasn't hard, sometimes it was.  Take Paul, for instance.  With his Japanese background and knowledge of that country's criminal underground, it had suggested Yakuza membership – except for the lack of tattoos.  The truth, in the end, had turned out to be stranger.

Of the new pair's history, she gathered even Father and Mother, the nominal Heads of the Department, knew little.  Less, even, than Eagle normally passed along with one of his "finds."  They'd told her the man, the girl's legal guardian, was a mage –
about time we had one again, too
– and a researcher in magical theory, which was impressive.  He was to be called simply the Doctor.  The girl's name was "Leeth," and apparently there was something strange about that, from the look Father and Mother had exchanged.  Father had stressed her youth, and that she would receive special mental training from "the Doctor" and intense martial arts training from Dojo.  They'd also asked Emma to be friendly, but to avoid any philosophical discussions of the ethics of combat, or morals in general.

Emma considered those last points, recalling the look on Mother's face – she’d
not
been happy.  Emma wasn't at all sure she herself liked the direction the clues were leading – martial arts training, immorality, and a strange name that suggested the word "lethal."

Most disquieting, though, were the final, casual instructions.  'Oh, and in the interest of clear communication, use plain English with our new colleagues.  We don't want to burden them with learning our technical jargon.' 
So they were disposables?
  Perhaps that explained Mother’s unhappiness.  Perhaps.

Her mood lightened as she turned the corner into the final stretch of corridor, the overhead lighting tuned to match the leafy woodland scene displayed on the corridor walls.  On her left, a swallow dipped low under a branch, reappearing on the wall to her right before disappearing in amongst the trees, heading deeper into the forest.  Sometimes she wished she could step into that landscape and follow them.  She sighed in appreciation.  If they did have to spend so much of their time buried in these deep concrete corridors, at least the Department went to the trouble of brightening them up.  She wondered what Checkbook had thought of the expense.  No doubt Eagle had simply overridden his objections.

She was near the dojo now, and a thump from beyond the double swing doors recalled her own introduction to Paul's teaching techniques.  She smiled wryly.  It had been an ego-battering experience.  She'd been glad James and Preacher had been there to share the suffering.  Even Father had trained with Paul, bearing the punishment without complaint: the old man was tougher than you'd guess.  She wondered how the new recruit would handle it, alone.

The sound of bare feet slapping the floor at a running pace met her as Emma reached the doors.  Looking through the small perspex window into the room beyond, she was just in time to see a young woman's body arc gracefully into the air and land with a bone-jarring slam on the blue mats on the floor.  Emma winced in sympathy, but watched with interest.

Paul, of course, looked completely fresh, and completely in control.  The girl lay stunned, briefly, before rolling to one side and pushing herself up onto hands and knees, breathing hard.

'Never lose your temper,' Paul admonished.  'Head and heart must balance.  When the animal dominates, judgment vanishes – strength undirected is easily deflected.'

Ahh.  They're at
that
stage.
  So "Leeth" must have some degree of skill.  And a temper, too, since this
was
her very first session.

The girl didn't respond, merely stayed on all fours, her sides heaving, drenched in sweat.  Her hands were bunching up the material of the mat she crouched on.  Emma frowned.  From memory, that stuff was really quite tough, you couldn't-

The muscles of the girl's legs were subtly tightening, her weight shifting microscopically.  Then she was up, flying toward Paul even as she spun into a flashing crescent kick.  She was fast!

But Paul was ready, of course.  Swaying aside, he pivoted then chopped down and back – a powerful elbow-strike into her side which the girl absorbed without a sound.  Emma winced again, then more so as the girl landed hard, rolling, and struggled to come to her feet.  She failed, clutching her side instead.

Emma replayed the engagement. 
That had
not
been a very elegant attack.
  She looked the girl over more carefully.  Quite young, despite the womanly curves; and now huddled into herself, obviously in pain.  Paul's blow must have been harder than it looked.  Emma felt sorry for the girl as, head bowed, she rose clumsily to her feet, hugging herself to relieve the pain.

The tableau stretched out, neither person moving.  And at last Emma realized something was wrong.  Paul hadn't moved forward to assist her in any way: in fact, he kept his distance.  Looking as if he expected another attack.  And more than that: he seemed tense.  Far more tense than she'd ever seen him.

The girl seemed to shrink slightly, a breath sobbing out.  Still Paul didn't move – except for a minute rising and falling of his shoulders. 
Wait –
Paul's
breathing hard?
  Then Emma's eyes widened in surprise as the revelation hit her – the girl was trying to
lure him closer!

What the devil
was going on?
  This looked far too serious for a training session.

The girl seemed to realize her trap hadn't worked, slowly unwrapping her arms from her waist, raising her face to meet Paul's cold gaze.
He's angry
.  And then she looked at the girl's face. 
Quite pretty
, she started to think, just as it transformed into a mask of focused hatred.

Emma stood transfixed as the girl raised her hands before her in the Mantis position, and moved slowly toward Paul.  The Mantis position?  Did she think this was some silly movie?  Just
who
had trained her?

Paul took a defensive posture.  The girl, Leeth, moved determinedly closer.  Emma watched, and saw that Paul had decided to let her try her attack, and simply waited.

Leeth feinted: Paul read it as such, counter-moved to take advantage of it, and parried the real strike that followed.  Surprisingly, her blow nearly landed,
and
was forceful enough to jar Paul's counter strike off-line.  And instead of moving away as his elbow hammered into her ribs, jolting her backwards with a gasp of expelled air, she turned in closer to lash out with her foot.  Paul responded too fast for Emma to see properly, striking down at the leg, blocking another attack from a slashing arm and answering with a blow to the head before dancing back.

The sequence of attacks had been so fast they'd triggered Emma's own combat augmentations while she'd strained to follow the exchange.