Veil of Reality (Cadicle #2): An Epic Space Opera Series Read online

  VEIL OF REALITY

  by

  Amy DuBoff

  VEIL OF REALITY

  Copyright © 2015 by Amy DuBoff

  All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles, reviews or promotions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  www.amyduboff.com

  Published by BDL Press

  Editor: Nicholas Bubb

  Cover Illustration: Copyright © 2015 Tom Edwards (www.TomEdwardsDesign.com)

  ASIN: B00VDKSD8C

  First eBook Edition: 28th June 2015

  Kindle Edition

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  Next in the Cadicle series

  Acknowledgements

  Glossary

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  The hum of the jump drive faded to silence. Cris Sights breathed a sigh of relief. Home at last.

  He stood up from the plush chair in the passenger cabin of the TSS transport vessel and stretched. It had been another long week of diplomatic relations on behalf of the TSS. Following the success of his internship on Marilon II, Cris had become High Commander Banks’ first choice for any matters requiring a political liaison. Much to Cris’ irritation, the assignments had continued even after he advanced to Lead Agent. I should have known that there was no escape from politics. Even after two decades with the TSS, I’m still babysitting Dynastic delegates.

  A young Militia officer named Dylaen popped his head into the passenger cabin. He had accompanied Cris on other diplomatic missions and had been immensely helpful with the administrative aspects of their most recent assignment on Bashari Prime. “All set, sir?”

  “Yes, we made it back just in time. I think most of my sanity is intact.” Cris grabbed his travel bag from next to his chair and walked toward the door.

  “Didn’t go quite how you hoped?” Dylaen asked.

  I would lose it if I had to read through one more list of contract exceptions. Cris shrugged. “I submitted the report, so my opinion doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll see what Banks thinks.” That was one benefit to such assignments: once the report was filed, his work was done. Few other responsibilities as Lead Agent had such a clear distinction.

  Dylaen accompanied Cris toward the gangway off the transport ship. “At least we have some leave now. Hopefully you can get some family time before we have to head out again.”

  Cris almost laughed. I wish. “That’s a rarity these days. Kate and I are able to grab Wil for dinner once a week, if we’re lucky.” Though expected, it was still difficult to see his son drifting away. Wil was a Junior Agent, despite only being fourteen years old, and no one else in that position would have their parents around demanding attention. I kept him from a Dynastic life on Tararia, but is the TSS really any better?

  In recent years, Cris frequently found himself questioning the decision to raise Wil at TSS Headquarters. There had been no examples to follow—being the only High Dynasty heir to ever become a TSS Agent. Having a son to carry on the Sietinen Dynasty legacy was a given, but there were no systems in place within the TSS to accommodate that parental responsibility. Cris had fought to make it work—desperate to provide an alternative for his son that would offer a vantage other than that of Cris’ own privileged youth. The chance to raise Wil within the TSS, surrounded by others with telekinetic abilities and from all walks of life, seemed compelling at the time. Yet, it meant Wil had always been the sole child among teenagers and adults. Never did Cris anticipate the full effects of such an arrangement.

  Cris descended the gangway from the transport ship. With Dylaen in tow, he headed toward one of the docked shuttles that would take them from the space station down to the port on the surface of Earth’s moon.

  “I’m not surprised Wil is so busy,” Dylaen commented as they approached the waiting shuttles. “People want to talk to him about all sorts of stuff—subspace navigation theory, engineering spec reviews, or even for tips on high-speed maneuvering in combat jets. I have no idea how he picks up so much.”

  Everyone is so eager to exploit Wil’s intellect, they forget he’s still a kid. “I’ve told him he needs to establish some boundaries or he’s never going to have any time for himself.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll find a balance eventually,” Dylaen assured. “You must be proud of him. Making Junior Agent already is really impressive.”

  I had hoped he would have the chance to grow up without the weight of responsibility, but maybe it was unavoidable. “Very proud, but I still worry sometimes. I want him to be happy.”

  “I’m sure he’d come to you if there were any issues,” Dylaen said.

  I’m not so confident anymore. “I hope so.”

  Cris entered the shuttle with Dylaen and initiated the auto-pilot to take them down to the surface.

  “He’ll graduate in what—a couple more years?” Dylaen asked.

  “Yes, it’s looking that way.”

  Wil had always been an exceedingly quick learner as a child. However, no one truly took notice of his exceptional aptitude until he moved in with other first year Trainees and began his formal training with the TSS at the unprecedented age of twelve. Seeing how Wil’s performance contrasted that of his older peers, it was immediately evident that he would complete the training program in record time. As he continued to grow stronger, it also became clear that his future rank would be well above that of any existing Agent—warranting a “Primus Elite” designation. Though no one wanted to acknowledge it outright, there was a strong possibility that Wil would even break the elusive Course Rank of 10.

  Cris shuddered, thinking back on his own experience with the brutal Course Rank Test years before. There’s no telling what he’d be able to do with that kind of power.

  Dylaen shook head. “That’ll be so weird. He’ll be the same age as most incoming Trainees.”

  “You’re telling me. I’ll probably get kicked out as Lead Agent.” At the time of his own graduation, Cris’ CR of 9.7 was unmatched—an accomplishment that gave him automatic seniority above much older and more experienced Primus Agents. Out of respect, he waited to assume the Lead Agent title until his predecessor, Nilaen, had retired, but it had made for some awkward moments with the other Agents. I never imagined my own son could be my superior, especially not at sixteen.

  “Oh, come on. You’re far too much of an institution around here to be unseated so easily.”

  Cris cracked a smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Anytime, sir.”

  When the shuttle docked at the surface port, Cris and Dylaen parted ways. Cris checked the time on his handheld and realized it was almost midnight. Everyone else is probably smart enough to be in bed by now.

  He took the central elevator down to the ma
in Headquarters structure, grateful to have the car to himself. After enduring near-constant conversation over the past few days, he appreciated the silence.

  TSS Headquarters had been his home for almost twenty-one years, and it was always a welcome return home. He felt instantly at ease as the elevator descended through the containment lock that kept the main Headquarters structure suspended in a subspace bubble. The natural effect of subspace dampening his telekinetic abilities helped quiet his mind.

  When he reached Level 2, Cris made the trek through the dimmed hallway of the Primus Agent’s residential wing. Sconces illuminating cascading planets filled the walls between doors, interspersed with holopaintings of nebulae.

  At last, he reached the long awaited haven of his quarters. He entered quietly, aware of the late hour. All of the overhead lights were off, but there were faint nightlights along the baseboard casting an orange glow throughout the room.

  On the right side of the living room, the sliding door to the main bedroom was cracked open. Kate was in bed, asleep.

  Seeing her, Cris still felt a swell of love and excitement, even after seventeen years of marriage. Throughout the challenges they had faced as TSS Agents, their love and bond was a constant that sustained them. And, it gave them the enduring strength to form a united rebellion to the Priesthood’s anti-telekinesis sentiment throughout the Taran colonies. No member of a High Dynasty had ever openly embraced their abilities, and the public display of Cris’ TSS Agent’s uniform at his wedding to Kate had made a bold statement. Cris had expected his parents to denounce him and any involvement with the TSS, but they had been surprisingly agreeable from the moment he announced their engagement. However, he was willing to bet they would have done anything to finally unite the Sietinen and Vaenetri Dynasties.

  Cris placed his handheld on the nightstand and took off his outer layer of clothes. As he lay down on the soft mattress, he began to relax for the first time in days. There’s nothing better than your own bed after a long trip.

  Kate stirred as he adjusted the covers. “Welcome back,” she murmured, still half-asleep. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” Cris gave her a kiss and then settled into his pillow. It was good to be home.

  * * *

  The dimmed hallway stretched before Wil Sights. No one else was present in the halls of the Primus residential wing so late, nearly 01:00 hours. Padded carpet made footsteps silent to the unwary, and Wil was much too tired and distracted by thoughts of an electrochemistry test later that day to pay much attention to his surroundings. He stifled a yawn as he rounded a corner, nearly overtaken by fatigue.

  The other Junior Agent trainees often gave him a hard time about being so young and small compared to them, but Wil had learned how to hold his own. Still, he didn’t want any of it to be a competition. Most days, he wished everyone would just leave him alone so he could play around with fanciful ship designs on his tablet.

  Wil ran his fingers through his short brown hair. The objects in his pockets seemed to grow heavier as he walked, weighing him down. Nearing an especially secluded section of the long corridor, he was struck with a sudden wave of unease. He shrugged off the feeling and took a deep breath, trying to unwind for the night. He closed his cerulean eyes as he walked, allowing his senses to dim in anticipation of sleep. Unnoticed, black-clad figures emerged from the shadows all around him.

  An unnatural breeze brushed the back of Wil’s neck. His eyes shot open, catching the glint of a metal quarterstaff swinging toward his shoulder. Instinctively, he reached to his side for a weapon, but he was unarmed. He ducked to the side, agilely catching himself on the ground.

  “H—!” Wil tried to call out for aid, but his mind felt fuzzy and the words were lost.

  The black-clad attacker stepped forward, looming over Wil as he crouched in the hall. Bright red eyes shone through the face mask, locked on Wil.

  Wil was mesmerized. As he huddled dazed and defenseless, the assailant reached out to Wil’s mind.

  The telepathic connection sent a sickening chill to Wil’s core. Hate and anger burned within, paired with an immense power Wil couldn’t even comprehend. There was such a fundamental difference between them—so opposite in their motivations and thinking—that Wil wondered how they could both exist. The pure loathing was more than Wil could handle, and he struggled to close his mind. He scrambled to his feet and backed toward the wall, fear gripping his chest. He tried to call out again, but telepathic interference from his assailant still clouded his mind.

  Wil didn’t know how to fight back. Advanced telekinetic abilities were next to useless on the upper levels of Headquarters within the subspace bubble—attempting anything more than telepathy or basic levitation was like grasping at air. He barely came up to the assailant’s chest, so he had no chance in a fistfight. Frozen with shock and fear, Wil wasted crucial moments as the dark figure prepared for another assault.

  The quarterstaff swung toward Wil again. He dove to the ground and rolled to the side. His back struck the wall. He heard a rattling overhead, and looked up to see an old show sword rocking in its holdings. In one swift movement, Wil leaped to his feet and grabbed the weapon from its hooks. The weight caught him by surprise and the sword nearly dropped to the ground. Wil hoisted the heavy weapon just in time to block a blow from the lead attacker—bolstering the deflection with as much telekinetic power as he could muster through the subspace haze. While he countered hits from his assailant, the other intruders waited calmly out of the way.

  Tired even before the attack, Wil was soon to the point of complete exhaustion. He looked in earnest for any possible escape. Instead, he was horrified to see one of the figures down the hall lining him up in the sights of a stun gun.

  The lead attacker stood aside just as the invisible energy beam rippled through the air and struck the center of Wil’s chest. The force of the beam knocked Wil to the ground, the paralyzing effect of the gun taking effect immediately.

  The world began to blur into darkness. The last images Wil saw before losing consciousness were the five figures coming to stand over him. The blackness became everything.

  * * *

  Snapping out of a deep sleep, Cris looked up to see Kate smiling down at him.

  “Hey you,” Cris murmured as he tucked a loose length of Kate’s dark-brown hair behind her ear. It was wet—freshly showered.

  “Hey.” Kate gave him a slow, sultry kiss. She pulled away gently, savoring the moment. “Want to get breakfast with me?” She stroked the side of Cris’ face.

  “Sure.” Cris glanced at the clock; it was just past 06:00. Not nearly enough sleep to make up for the deficit, but it will have to do. “You’re up early.”

  “I have some papers to grade before class today.” Kate hopped off the bed.

  Cris sat up. “Kind of last-minute, isn’t it?”

  “Well, it’s tough to get psyched about reading twenty essays on the merits of distributed supply outposts in emerging colonization zones.”

  “I offer no sympathy until you’re sentenced to oversee the arrival of new Trainees.” It was an annual event Cris endured as part of his Lead Agent position, shepherding hundreds of misbehaving teenagers who would one day be molded into Agents. After several years of observation, Cris had decided that Wil had acted more maturely by the age of three.

  Kate grinned. “Banks would never do that. He likes me too much.”

  If my assignments are any indication, then maybe he hates me. Cris dragged himself out of bed. “Well, only one more planet and I’m done with this round of negotiations. Then we can get back to normal.”

  For travel assignments, Kate typically served as the First Officer under Cris aboard the Vanquish, the flagship for the TSS. Her CR of 8.9 had made her a logical choice for the command position, aside from their relationship. However, the most recent mission with Bashari Prime was an extended diplomatic engagement—a poor fit for the Vanquish, and perfect opportunity for the ship to get some overdue ma
intenance. Not wanting to be away from Wil for that long, Kate had elected to teach some classes at Headquarters while Cris traveled with an administrative envoy. I never should have agreed to it. I hate the time apart.

  “I can’t wait. I’m going stir-crazy being stuck here at Headquarters without you,” Kate said as she settled onto the bed with her tablet. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  Can’t I just go back to sleep? Cris slid off the bed. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I’ll be right back.”

  He grabbed a clean set of clothes and shuffled into the bathroom to get ready. Hoping to jolt himself awake, he turned down the water temperature in the shower to several degrees cooler than normal. The strategy was moderately effective, but he still felt groggy.

  Once dressed, Cris returned to the bedroom to retrieve Kate.

  She turned off her tablet when Cris entered. “You got a call from Banks.”

  Cris groaned. It’s pretty early for him to be working already. “I knew he wouldn’t be happy when he saw that report on Bashari Prime. Haersen probably tipped him off.” Cris had always found the administrative and reporting hoops implemented by the Mission Coordinator, Arron Haersen, to be a necessary nuisance.

  “Make it quick. I’m hungry!” Kate said with a grin.

  Cris grabbed his handheld off the nightstand to check the message from Banks. In addition to the missed call notification, there were two follow-up text messages: “Come to my office immediately,” followed by, “Disregard. I’m coming to you.”

  Kate noticed Cris frowning at his phone. “What is it?”

  “I guess he’s coming here,” Cris replied. He never stops by without an invitation.

  “That must have been quite a report—”

  A buzzer sounded at the front door.

  “I’ll handle it.” Cris jogged to the living room to open the front door. The moment he looked outside, his stomach dropped. I don’t think this is about my mission report.

  Never had the High Commander looked so old and tired in the many years Cris had known him. Though Banks usually only looked to be in his late-thirties, due to the restorative benefits of his telekinetic abilities and strong Taran genetics, he was, in fact, nearly twice that age. For a rare change, it was showing. “May I come in?” Banks asked from the hall.