"I'm sorry, Kathleen," he said, reaching into his jacket.

"So am I."

She heaved her steaming cup at him, kicking out hard with her right foot to snap his shin against the leg of the chair. He was too quick. Pushing his chair over backward, he fell away from the blow. Her foot connected but without sufficient force to damage him. The tea splashed across the table as the cup shattered. The telescan sparked and smoked as liquid entered its casing.

Ninyu rolled clear of his clattering seat and was on his feet in an instant, his rapid recovery preventing Kathleen from retrieving her gun from the counter. If she tried, he would be on her before she could make use of the weapon. She circled him warily, knowing he was by far her superior in unarmed combat. For his part, Ninyu stood relaxed, but that did not fool Kathleen into believing him unready. She recognized the shizenposture from her own rudimentary ninjutsutraining. Her only hope was to get her hands on the gun or some other weapon.

She swept the room with her eyes. Too late, she realized her mistake. Ninyu allowed her no margin. He was coming in at her even before she returned her full attention to him. As he moved past her and blocked her hasty attack, she felt his hand strike her left armpit. She turned to face his new position, arm hanging useless at her side. He had numbed it with a strike to the nerve complex.

"Foolish, Kathleen. You have no chance. You should never have run."

He was right, but she could not stop. If she surrendered, her son would die. She took a step backward and felt her right leg brush the second chair.

Time for desperate measures.

Grabbing the chair with her good hand, she heaved the metal frame high and to the left. Ninyu swayed aside, clearing her way to the counter. As the chair crashed into the wall, she threw herself across the narrow kitchenette. Her hand reached out for the pistol, only to close on empty air as Ninyu's kick caught her under the rib cage. She caromed off the range and onto the floor. The pain tore a short, sharp scream from her.

She writhed on the floor, feeling the tearing of her insides. Another blow was all it would take.

Stepping to the counter, Ninyu retrieved her gun. "Finish it," she pleaded. He shook his head.

She had hoped that the memories they shared would move him to mercy. A futile hope.

She realized that the boy would have been awakened by the noise of their fight. She had hoped he would flee, but he appeared in the doorway, instead, emboldened by the sudden cessation of noise. Kathleen tried to raise her arm to wave him back, to shout a warning, but her injuries were too great.

A star whizzed across the room to spin past the boy's neck. His mouth opened in surprise as he raised a hand toward his neck. Bright blood burst from the gash torn by the sharp, whirling edges of the shuriken. The boy toppled without a sound.   -

He is in shock and feels no pain,Kathleen told herself, a small comfort as she watched his life leak out to foul the apartment's carpets.

Ninyu stepped over the small body and disappeared into the bedroom. In a few minutes, he returned, wiping clean his shuriken and replacing it in a concealed pocket of his suit. A wisp of smoke followed him.

He walked softly to where Kathleen lay and crouched over her. He reached out and applied pressure in the careful way they had been taught by the ISF. Her pain vanished. He touched her throat, applying pressure there as well, and she felt the darkness begin to well up from within her. "A terrible tragedy," he said as he stood. "Mother and child die in an apartment fire."

His words were a statement of fact that just happened to describe a job well done. Through dimming eyes, she saw him bow to her, a last salute before leaving the apartment.

He would leave the building unseen, waiting to be sure that nothing disturbed the fire until it was too late. No one would know what he had done here. He had crippled her without doing anything that would mark her bones. All signs of violence would be erased by the flames. The charred corpses of a boy and a woman would be found in the ashes of the apartment.

He was very good at his job.

She coughed up blood. The bright red splashes changed the pattern of the carpet in front of her eyes. She stared, fascinated, as she slipped toward the darkness. She felt regretful sadness that the boy who had died here would never grow to be a man. But as the darkness claimed her, her last thoughts were of her son Franklin. The DropShip taking him to refuge with Marcus Kurita had lifted at noon.

50

Sanctum Arcanum, Unity Palace, Luthien

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

2 January 3034

Constance Kurita knelt on the white canvas mat before the elevated platform of the innermost room of the Sanctum Arcanum, the shrine of Kurita honor. Before her in the darkened room was a tatami-covered dais. The venerable dai-sho,the paired long and shortswords, of dynastic founder Shiro Kurita rested there on a black lacquered stand. Five pillars surrounded the dais, invisible in the gloom save for the ancient carved Labrean monodontusk that glowed in soft luminescence, a ghostly dragon climbing for the sky. Also unseen were the four Pillarine adepts who knelt at the corners of the canvas mat. Though she could not see them, Constance could feel their strength, latent and protective.

The fifth guardian stood at the entrance to the inner chamber, politely but adamantly refusing to allow Theodore Kurita to disturb Constance until she finished her meditations. Even if Theodore had insisted on his rank, the guard would have stood firm. In this place, Constance outranked the Coordinator himself.

She bade farewell to the spirit of Shiro, clapping her hands once sharply as she bowed. The Adepts bowed to her as she rose. She felt their acknowledgment of her authority and radiated her acceptance and approval of their devotion. As she approached his back, the door guardian stepped aside, allowing Constance to bow to her cousin.

"Did it go well?"

"Very well. All four Vegan Legions looked superb," Theodore said, smiling with pride. "I had not expected such parade-ground precision from them. They may no longer be the dregs of our military, but they are still soldiers of the line. A parade is not something they find enjoyable."

"They are fanatically loyal to you, Theodore. They would do nothing to shame you before the Coordinator."

Theodore shrugged, but Constance knew that he was proud that his legions were strong, and honored that they should express such depth of loyalty to him. She could feel it in his kishell and see it in his elaborate casualness.

"The insurrection on Tai-shoRentoshi's homeworld seems serious," Theodore offered in an apparent change of subject. His facial expression lost its lightness and his manner became more businesslike. "The Coordinator granted him permission to attend to it. His first Sword of Light regiment is to accompany him."

"And the Seventh Sword of Light?" Constance prompted, well aware that the subject had never changed.

"They are to leave for training exercises on Daikoku's fourth moon tomorrow."

"The Coordinator has never been without at least one Sword Regiment on Luthien. Will he not override the order?"

"As Deputy for Military Affairs, I deem it necessary for the Seventh Sword to receive this training. Their last missions in such an environment were years ago and they have not had any refreshers on the peculiar tactical concerns of low-gravity operations. Everything has been done according to proper form. Their orders will appear on the weekly update in three days."