Deadly Relations: Bester Ascendant by J. Gregory Keyes Read Free Book Online Page B

his next move: a ridge-hand to the back of his opponent’s head.
    Jackson caught the thought Al meant him to - and twisted to avoid the blow he knew was coming. Al dropped into a crouch, both palms flat on the floor, extended his back leg like a boom, and spun. Since he was turning to avoid a blow to his head, Jackson’s first indication of this came when his feet were clipped neatly from beneath him. A head taller and twenty pounds heavier than Al, he made a satisfying thud as he landed on the mat.
    “Halt!”
    Sensei Kaplan called, stepping onto the mat. Jackson was struggling to his feet. Al could feel his frustration and hostility, and hoped the match would go on; Jackson lost all control of his strategy when he was like this. But Kaplan ended the match.
    “Take note,” he said.
    “Mr. Bester used the minimum motion necessary. He fought the battle where it really takes place - in the mind. He won before he began his attack. Mr. Jackson is a bigger man, but his mind is weaker.”
    He gazed around at the group - all second - year students in the Minor Academy.
    “Attention. Class dismissed.”
    They all bowed in unison. Jackson glowered at Al before walking off, and Al answered with a thin smile. He could afford to be generous.
    “Nice match, Al,” said Raphael, a wiry young man with luminous black eyes.
    “Thanks.”
    He paused for an instant, trying to think how he might expand on the other’s overture. It was an instant too long.
    “Raphael,” called Susan, from across the room.
    “How about some lunch?”
    “Sure. See you tomorrow, Al.”
    “See you.”
    He shrugged mentally. He had a class next hour anyway, and Raphael probably knew that. Probably that was why he didn’t ask Al along for lunch. Probably.
    Al headed for the showers. He didn’t have time for a lot of socializing, anyway. Standing in the Minor Academy was absolutely critical, if he wanted to get into the MetaPol prep classes in the Major. That was just three years away. Al was so deep in thought he almost bumped into Julia in the hall. He caught her signature just about the time he found himself face-to-face with the deep brown of her startled eyes.
    “Oh-hi, Al,” she said.
    “Hi, Julia.”
    Her face had narrowed, her features sharpened, though at fifteen the curves evident beneath her gold-and-umber uniform still hesitated between girl and woman.
    “How-how are things?”
    “Pretty good,” she allowed, her eyes straying around the white, almost antiseptic hall, as if searching for someone else in the hurried mass of students.
    “How about with you? I heard that you won the Karges award last year.”
    “Yes, I guess I did.”
    “I’m not really surprised. You were always the best in the cadre. We were wondering about you the other day…”
    She trailed off, probably just realizing that she had said “we.”
    He knew, of course. The Minor Academy was large. But not that large. He had often noticed Julia, Milla, Brett, Azmun, Ekko, and most of the others from the cadre having lunch or playing soccer on the quads.
    “Have you decided yet?” he asked.
    “Which school you might end up in?”
    “Oh, well-yeah, I’m looking at the business school. Guess I’ll be a busybody, like you always said. And you? You still want to be a Psi Cop?”
    Al nodded.
    “Yes.”
    “Well - good luck at that. It won’t be easy.”
    “Thanks. I…”
    As with Raphael, he wanted to say something else, but he wasn’t sure what. It was a distinctly unpleasant feeling.
    “I have to get to class,” Julia said. “I guess I’ll see you.”
    “Yeah. Me too. Well, nice running into you.”
    He flashed her a smile he didn’t feel, then started off.
    “Hey, Al?”
    He turned, surprised to find her still regarding him.
    “Yes?”
    “I… some of the old Cadre Prime is going on a hike, up in the Alps. Sort of an unofficial reunion. You’re welcome to come, if you want.”
    He blinked.
    “Sure,” he said “That might be fun.”
    She smiled, a