Chapter 10

Her first week was a blur of medical scans, academic testing and evaluations by instructors in a hundred different areas of expertise. The medicos pronounced her fit, with no hidden defects or diseases in her genome but the academic testing left her feeling wrung out, and not a little embarrassed. She had assumed she was as educated and worldly as the next assassin, but found that her early education was woefully inadequate.

Since leaving the crèche, Kat had indulged her inquisitive nature whenever possible. In areas like engineering, mechanical aptitude and the physical sciences; areas that had applied to her career as an assassin and whose study interested her, she excelled. In other areas, she was woefully ignorant. For instance, she had never had to conjugate a verb in her life and, frankly, wasn't exactly sure what a verb was. The training in the creche was short on general knowledge and long on training proles for specific, low-tech jobs that the upper classes couldn't be bothered to do. She had only a consumer's grasp of the monetary system and how government worked. She was going to have to work hard to catch up.

Once it began, Kat was surprised at how quickly she adjusted to her new training routine. Days were a blur and transformed into weeks, all seemingly in the blink of an eye. Pan's help had been invaluable in the early days, allowing her to avoid some of the more obvious pitfalls of the school and steering her towards the best instructors. Before she knew it, she had acquired something that she hadn't realized was missing from her life. A friend.

Kat was draped over both arms of a chair in her sitting area, a data pad in her lap and a glass of wine dangling from one hand. On the settee, a young man and woman sat, similarly lounging and also occupied with data pads. Their wine glasses, mostly empty, sat on the low table in front of the couch along with the scattered remains of a meal.

Tom Bridger and Annie Platt were classmates in her Galactic History course. They had gathered this evening for dinner and to study for an upcoming test. Tom was a rangy fellow with a perpetual frown on his face that belied his happy-go-lucky attitude. He was generally a quiet fellow, sensitive to the moods of others, but prone to bitingly sarcastic asides that were both unerringly accurate and unfailingly amusing. His companion, Annie, was a bubbly blonde whose smile may as well have been laser etched on her face. She was good natured to a fault and an optimist of the first order. Together they were an unlikely couple, but had been inseparable from the very start.

But they were not Agents.

Kat had been surprised to learn that Agents were a kind of mystery man, middle management and trouble shooter, all rolled in to one. Most of the employees of the Agency were clerks, support personnel, analysts and flunkies. There were ten sector commands, and each command had at least one Agent assigned, with some having as many as three. These Agents were the field operatives that investigated, supervised operations and generally did the dirty work of the Sector Commanders.

The Sector Commanding Officers were former Agents whose aptitude and experience in the field had led them to eventual promotion. Agents, including the Sector COs, were assigned code names and were never referred to by their actual identities.

This distinction meant that even though she liked both Tom and Annie; even though they got along famously, they were not friends. Kat could not open up to them, was not allowed to share information outside of what was needed for a specific project or, in school, a class. It created a divide that kept her from ever feeling completely comfortable around them.

It was only one of the reasons she broke out in a wide grin when the door announced that Pan was requesting access. She called out "Allow!" to the rooms comp and waved as Pan sauntered through the door and plopped down in the room's other chair.

"What are we studying, children?" Pan quipped, grinning.

"The effect of red-headed lunatics on the monetary system of Old Earth's economic collapse, pre-diaspora." Kat quipped back, eliciting a giggle from Annie and a grin from Tom.

Pan feigned shock, raised a hand to his chest, and in a dry, monotone voice said "Oh my. Wounded nigh unto death, am I, by your barbed wit. Give me a moment while I get a towel so that I do not bleed on your furniture." This last was followed by a hurled pillow that missed Kat by a meter or more.

"We have a GalHist test tomorrow. Shouldn't you be out on the town, blinding tourists with your ensembles or something?" Kat asked.

"I'll have you know that I have to hire a bodyguard to keep the ladies away when I go out. It just so happens that I have a problem remembering not to draw to an inside straight and my bodyguard funds are a touch on the low side." Pan shook his head in mock chagrin.

Tom, ever sensitive, must have sensed that Pan had other things on his mind. He rose and started gathering his gear together. "As much as it pains me to hear about your predicament, I am still going to take my lovely lady and go get some dessert before some poorly-dressed confidence man talks me out of the life savings!"

"Oh Tom!" Annie exclaimed, taking a playful swipe at his arm. "Pan is such a jokester, I am sure he was just having fun with us." Turning to Kat, she said, "We really should get going though. Thanks for inviting us over to study and especially for setting me straight on the first diaspora dates. I don't know why I kept mixing them up." Annie gathered the dinner remains and dropped them into the recycling hopper before slipping her arm through Tom's.

"See you in class tomorrow!" Kat called as they left. Setting her data pad and wine glass on the table, she turned her attention to Pan.

"So?" she asked, watching him closely.

Pan reached into his pocket and tossed a small object her way. Kat easily plucked it from the air and began to examine it.

"This isn't mine! What is this supposed to be?" Kat looked perplexed, and a little angry.

When Kat's pack and personal gear had not been delivered the day after her orientation as promised, she made the decision to wait. After three more days, she replaced the toiletries and had purchased enough clothes to get by. After another week, she decided that she had been patient enough and had started investigating. She didn't know if this was just another test of some kind or if her luggage had been lost in the bureaucratic shuffle, but she was determined to find out without going to Minerva.