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a matter of trust

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Tao Yaoyao
My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.
Modern ParentingEx-wifeDrama
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Irschcha, 2569 CE

Chaos take those Imperial schools anyway!

It was all their fault, Thark growled to himself, increasing his pace as the sleek lines of his ship came into view. Not even the prospect of flying the Prowler lightened his mood this time. The Chaos-loving schools had done too much! They were fine for the unTalented, like humans and now Traiti, but they had probably precipitated a disaster here on Irschcha. Their damnable stress on Imperial rather than planetary allegiance was to blame; it had deprived him of the strongest Talent to appear in many years, Corina Losinj-and it would cost Corina her life soon, if it hadn't already.

He was practically running toward his small ship now, dignity forgotten in the need for haste. "Dammit all to hell!" he burst out, the human curse seeming oddly appropriate under the circumstances. If the Terran Empire hadn't discovered Irschcha for another century, or if Chear hadn't chosen to affiliate with it, none of this would have had to happen.

As Thark neared the ship, he forced his thoughts and emotions under control, away from such useless speculations. He was High Adept of the White Order now, not Chear, and it was up to him to correct Chear's error. His calm voice did not betray his feelings when he returned the salute of the gray-kilted Sanctioner standing at the foot of the boarding ramp.

"Greetings, Master Thark," the Sanctioner said.

"Greetings, Underofficer Jamar. What is Prowler's status?"

"Senior Adepts Valla and Kainor are already on board, as is the rest of my squad. The ship is ready for takeoff."

"Excellent," Thark said. "Then we leave immediately. We have no time to waste." He hurried up the ramp into the ship.

Jamar followed, stopping to raise the ramp and close the lock. Thark went on to the cockpit and secured himself in the pilot's seat, scanning his instrumentation. He was an accomplished pilot, and rather to his surprise he found that the pre-liftoff routine did ease his mood, even under such unpleasant circumstances.

His ears went forward in satisfaction. Jamar had surpassed himself; the only thing left was to alert his crew and passengers for immediate takeoff. He did so, then fed full power to the null-gravs. There was no need to wait for clearance; this was a private field, one of his prerogatives as High Adept, and the Prowler, as his ship, had an automatic clearance superseding any other in this system save an Imperial Navy ship.

As soon as they were a safe ten diameters out from Irschcha he activated the hyperdrive, then unstrapped himself and rose. Prowler's course to Rendavi, the Crusade leaders' rendezvous, had been fed into the navigation computer several days ago and been updated automatically every hour since.

He started to leave the cockpit. Once the transition into hyperspace had been made, there was no need for a pilot until it was time to out-transition and land.

Still-at the moment, he really didn't feel like talking to his lieutenants. He returned to the controls and sat down, staring into the blank viewscreen and visualizing the morning's unexpected, perhaps disastrous, developments. Perhaps if he had handled things differently…

* * *

He had spent most of the week arranging things so he would be free all day today, knowing such things would not be possible for much longer. The weather had cooperated almost as if it were intelligent and sensed the importance of this meeting. Although it was still early spring, the day was a brilliant one, the temperature a comfortable fifteen degrees. He had taken advantage of that, deciding to have Corina's final lesson out on the sundeck.

He took several seating cushions outside and arranged them so the sun would warm them, yet not glare into his or Corina's eyes. Then he leaned back on one set of the cushions to wait for her. Relaxing almost totally, he watched a small cloud drifting in the clear green sky. The sun's gentle warmth on his fur was thoroughly enjoyable. It was indeed a pleasant change, he mused, to be able to relish such a day with no duties to interfere. His position as High Adept made such luxuries all too rare.

Corina's lessons were a self-imposed duty, one he was pleased he had assumed. He was looking forward to her initiation into the White Order, and the fact that he had trained her himself would make that doubly enjoyable.

It was fortunate that Corina was available to the Order at all. Her Talent had been deeply latent, not developing until quite late. Because of that, she had been missed by the Order's usual pre-school testing. That, Thark thought, still bitter, was one of the few things the Empire's very presence had not changed. Although the examiner had believed she had sensed something, Corina had been unable to receive even the simplest thoughts, and had not had even a trace of mental screen.

She had been seventeen, close to eighteen years old by the new Imperial Standard measure, when she had found herself beginning to pick up thoughts. She had gone, naturally enough, to a local Order chapter for help and possible training. The chapter had reported it to him, knowing he would be interested; when Talent appeared so late it was almost always minimal, usually only telepathy and a weak mind-screen, and the tester had been astonished at Corina's strength.

Thark had been surprised himself when he scanned her. It was then that he had decided to take her as his private student. Four years' training had brought out her potential, the power he had sensed she should be able to control, when they met. It would be formally recognized soon, when she was initiated; then Thark could bring her into the Prime Chapter, where the Order could make full use of her Talents. He had no intention whatever of letting them go to waste. Senior Adept Corina of the White Order, he thought-yes, it had a pleasant ring. He and the others of the Prime Chapter already thought of her that way, used her last name only when formality required it.

He caught sight of her then, and watched her come up the rubberoid walk to his raised sundeck. As usual, she was precisely on time. And she certainly wasn't difficult to spot; all her kilts were bright, but the red-and-gold one she favored and was wearing today was positively gaudy. Urr, perhaps her taste would improve as she matured. He looked down at his own kilt, a conservative dark blue that went well with the tawny shade of his fur. That, with its sporran, was one of the few human innovations he appreciated.

Corina purred softly in pleasure when she saw Thark out on the sundeck. Truly, this weather was too good to waste any of it indoors, especially at this time of year. He stood as she approached.

"Good day, Master Thark," she said with a slight bow, her hands open and raised to shoulder level.

Thark returned the formal bow. "Good day, Student Losinj. Be welcome."

Formalities were certainly briefer since Irschcha had joined the Empire, Thark thought. He wasn't sure yet whether he approved of that or not. They had been time-consuming, but they had also given life a certain grace that now seemed lacking, and had provided a social lubricant that Irschchans, in his opinion, needed. He could be wrong, though, he thought as he returned to his cushions.

Corina sat facing him. "What is today's lesson, Master?"

"At this stage, it is up to you to tell me. Further training will be directed to any area in which you feel deficient."

Her mind-shield was down, so he could sense, as well as hear, her surprise. "I do not understand."

"The only thing you truly require now is more confidence in yourself. Otherwise you are fully ready for initiation, and I would like to see that take place as soon as possible."

Corina shook her head slowly. "I do not feel ready to take on such responsibilities, Master. I have not had the psychological preparation of those who have attended Order schools."

"Your feelings are understandable," Thark said sympathetically. "You know, however, that you already have as much power and control as any Senior in the Prime Chapter."

"Urrr…" She hesitated. "You may be correct. I did stalemate Senior Valla in our last practice session."

"Yes, she told me about it. She was quite pleased. She and Kainor agree with me that you are ready, and if you are willing, they have asked to stand as your sponsors."

"I would be most honored to have them as sponsors," Corina said, inclining her head. "What do you plan for me after initiation?"

"I want to bring you into the Prime Chapter, where one with your amount of Talent belongs. As for a specific job, we think such Talent, in conjunction with your other abilities, can best be utilized as a roving supervisor in Valla's Intelligence Division."

Corina considered that. It would be a most interesting job, she had no doubt. The Intelligence Division got the most difficult cases the Sanctioners had to cope with, and since they were Irschcha's military, as well as its police, the variety of such cases was truly remarkable. It was tempting, though she questioned whether she would be able to do well at it. "I have not yet finished school," she objected.

"I have not forgotten. Until you graduate, you will work as Valla's assistant after class. She will train you for the job."

"Yes, Master, I believe I would like that. But the Prime Chapter…"

"You will not be expected to participate fully until you do graduate, Corina. By that time you should be sure enough of yourself to function properly as a Senior."

"Under those conditions, I can honorably agree."

"Excellent!" Thark let his pleasure show. "As part of your further development, I would like you to do some teaching. Through teaching others, you will learn more yourself-and more of yourself."

"That I will do gladly. I do not feel as fully qualified as I should be."

"Perhaps not, but your Talent is truly remarkable." Thark purred. By the time he was ready to step down, she should be capable of taking over leadership of the Order. By then, if his Crusade were successful, it would have taken over rule of the Empire from the unTalented humans. The end of the Traiti War made that a probability in the near future.

Humans weren't stupid, he thought. In fact, some were quite intelligent. And the Empire was, as far as it went, a fairly good basis for government. It was simply that those with Talent had superior abilities, thus were better qualified to rule. And to rule, the Order must rebel.

He had not been fully shielded, he realized when he saw the look on Corina's face. "What Crusade?" she asked curiously.

Thark felt her probing for more information, and reinforced his shield. "Do not concern yourself with that," he advised. "You should know nothing about it until after your initiation."

"Why not?"

"Because it is Order business, and you are not yet sworn to the Order."

"Oh." She seemed to accept that, but Thark was familiar with her curiosity, and it would be no surprise to him if she kept trying to find out. He would have to be careful to keep his shield up.

"All I can tell you now," he said, hoping to ease that curiosity, "is that it will bring proper symmetry to the Cosmos."

That statement served only to make Corina even more curious. Thark had seemed preoccupied for the last half year, and so had the other Seniors she knew. It was clear that something was going on; she had sensed it for some time. She had asked nothing about what she felt, knowing that Thark was reluctant to discuss it. Now, though, it appeared that whatever this "Crusade" was, it concerned her own future. That fact, she felt, gave her the right to know about it.

She probed at Thark's shield again, but he was too strong for her to penetrate it. All she knew was what she had overheard, and even then she had gotten little information. Only the term "Crusade," the fact that she was somehow involved, and a mixed feeling of obligation and impending triumph. But what kind of triumph, and over what? Or… who?

"Is it something that will affect the Empire?" she asked.

"Something that will improve it," Thark replied. "You must admit it is not perfect-"

He was interrupted by a mindcall from Valla, head of the Sanctioners and his chief lieutenant. *What is it, Thark? I felt your disturbance-*

*Not now, Valla!*

Her thought cut off, but too late; the momentary distraction had enabled Corina to break through his lowered shield. He could see, as well as feel, her reaction, and it was what he had feared.

Corina was both shocked and angry. Shocked that Thark would even plan such a rebellion, and angry that he had expected her to participate. Thark had not been raised as an Imperial citizen; she had, and could not understand his desire for change. Yet she liked him as a friend as well as respecting him as a teacher-she did not want to believe he would actually go through with such a thing.

Her thoughts were a turmoil of conflicting loyalties. The Empire, she had been taught and firmly believed, was what kept the peace between planets and systems, while allowing maximum freedom on-planet through the ruling nobility. Thark retained his title of High Adept, though he could have claimed the title of Planetary Baron, and was virtually as powerful as he would have been before the Empire.

Why, then, did he want change? Perhaps that should not concern her as much as the mere fact that he did. She was due for initiation; in honor, could she oppose him? Or was it her duty as an Imperial citizen to do so? She was bound by no oaths, and so free to choose. Blades! she thought angrily. Why did Thark put her in such a position?

Perhaps if she got more information she would know what to do. Keeping her voice steady, she asked, "Is such a rebellion not simple treason, Master Thark? Will it not destroy the Empire, rather than improve it?"

Thark looked closely at his student. It was natural for her to be concerned; he himself was not particularly fond of the idea of the bloodshed that now appeared necessary. At the very minimum, the Emperor, Rangers, and nobility would have to be eliminated, and he knew full well that there would be others.

"It might be so construed, but it is something that cannot be helped," he said calmly. "You should be able to understand that for yourself. Look at the peace and balance that rule by the Order has brought Irschcha since it was founded, then look at the constant unrest and controversy elsewhere in the Empire. Which is better?"

Corina shifted uncomfortably. "Peace, of course." She hesitated, then said, "But rebellion is no way to bring true peace. And there is a great difference between ruling one race on one planet and ruling an Empire of thousands of worlds."

"Less than you might think," Thark replied, pleased at her composure. A difference of opinion need not be disorderly, and her temper at times like this was uncertain. "We need only replace key people with our own most strongly Talented initiates. The bureaucracy and computers will, as they do now, handle day-to-day operations."

"And because you possess the strongest Talent, naturally you will become Emperor?" There was a distinct trace of sarcasm in that question.

"Of course," Thark said, mildly surprised and ignoring the tone of her voice. "It is not something I particularly want to do-" He broke off, looked at her sharply. "It is indeed unfortunate that you did not attend an Order school."

He probed gently. She was angry, of course; he could tell that even through her shield, but she seemed to be keeping her emotions under tight control. Good. She might still be amenable to reason.

"I have told you many times," he said patiently, "that possession of Talent carries with it a certain responsibility. We of the Order are able to use our Talent to govern better than do those who lack it. Honor demands that we do so. We cannot avoid our duty."

He could feel her rejection of that argument even before she spoke. "That may apply to Irschcha, but it is obviously not true of humans. They did quite well before MacLeod found us, despite their lack of Talent. You must agree that things have improved for Irschcha since we joined the Empire."

"Some things, yes," Thark admitted. "We have hyperships now, like my Prowler; we are benefitting from trade with other systems; we are starting out-system colonies ourselves; we have people in the Imperial Services-"

"And in the Emperor's own Palace Guard!" Corina interrupted.

"But that is not enough!"

"Is that not considerable progress since they found us only forty-three Standard years ago? Can you truly expect more so soon? We are only a small part of the Empire."

"I cannot accept that," Thark growled. "We are being humiliated! We must even use human units of measurement. Standard years? Terran years is what you mean!"

"Still-"

"We have no one in the nobility except for myself," Thark continued, ignoring her attempted protest. "No Irschchan is a Ranger, none command major military ships or bases. Does that seem equitable to you?"

"It does not seem inequitable, simply on the basis of numbers," Corina pointed out. "Humans occupy thousands of worlds, the Traiti hundreds, while we occupy only this one completely. And it is possible they have talents or abilities we lack."

Thark groaned inwardly. This was not going well, but she was too valuable to lose; he would have to keep trying.

"They do not," he told her. "I have scanned a large number of humans, tourists and administrative officials alike. They have no indication of Talent or anything else unusual, except perhaps an occasional trace of screen. They are exactly what they seem. All they have is a very sophisticated technology."

"Perhaps that is their talent," Corina said. "It was they who found us; we did not find them. Or perhaps their special ability is even rarer with them than Talent is with us."

"If that is the case," Thark replied, "it would seem they either cannot use it to govern properly, or refuse to do so. In either case, our duty is clear."

He was silent then, perceiving her need to think.

Corina was deeply disturbed. Thark's arguments were plausible, at least on the surface, but she found them unsatisfying. Tourists and administrative officials were not the Empire's best examples, especially the tourists. Thark claimed his motive was unselfish-duty-and she knew him well enough to believe he truly thought so. But what if he was wrong?

Chaos take it! Peace was important, and she could see it as a result-perhaps-of Thark's rebellion. But first there would be much death and destruction. With the Traiti War barely over, what Thark planned might as easily trigger a disaster as lead to the peace he expected.

It was a difficult decision; no matter what she did, people would be killed. Yet Thark himself had taught her that her responsibility to Irschcha ought to be paramount, and that meant she had no choice but to support the Empire that had done so much for it. In honor, that was the only way she could decide. Irschcha had made more progress in its forty-three years since joining the Empire than in any span ten times that long under the Order.

Once her decision was made, she did not hesitate. She stood, then said with a return to strict formality, "I can regard your Crusade as nothing but treason, Thark. I can no longer call you Master."

Thark also rose, nodding his acceptance. At least, he thought, she was acting as he had taught her, with honor and decorum. "Then we are enemies. I truly regret that, necessary as it is. Will you at least give me your word that you will not go to the Imperial authorities?" He knew the answer even as he asked the question, but it was a propriety he had to observe.

"I cannot do that," Corina said. "You have taught me too well. Failing to act now, on what I am positive is right, would be as dishonorable as treason itself."

"It would indeed," Thark replied with regret. "You leave me no choice. I cannot kill a guest in my home; to do that would bring only shame. However, I cannot let you live to reach the Imperials with this information, either. And I most certainly will not allow you to aid their cause."

Fear almost weakened Corina's resolve. She did not want to die, but death seemed unavoidable. If she thought about it too much, though, she might give in, and that would be worse. "I must try," she said steadily. "What of my family?"

"The decision was yours, not theirs," Thark replied. "It will not be held against them. If you wish, I will give them your soul-blade."

"I am not yet dead," Corina said, caressing the dagger's hilt. She turned and left.

"No," Thark said softly, watching her leave. "Not yet." As soon as she was out of sight, he mindcalled his lieutenant. *Valla? I have a job for you.*

*Yes?* came the calm reply.

*Corina Losinj must be eliminated. She broke through my shield when your call distracted me, and discovered the Crusade. She has just left, and is going to report to the Imperials.*

*Corina!* Valla's thought was surprised. *But I thought-* She hesitated. *Are you sure, Master? Why would she-*

*Apparently her lack of Order schooling. I cannot fault her; it is simply that her loyalties lie with the Empire rather than with us. Still, she is a danger which must be eliminated.*

*Understood, Master. She was a good friend, and most Talented.* Valla had felt the regret in Thark's mental touch, and shared it, but there was no time for emotion now. *This is an unfortunate happening. I will take care of it.*

*With your usual efficiency, of course. But not personally. Arrange it. Tell the Sanctioners she is wearing that red-and-gold kilt. Then bring Kainor and meet me at my ship. She is forcing me to speed up the timetable; the Prime Chapter and other Crusade leaders are to gather as soon as possible on Rendavi. Inform your people.*

*How do you wish her to die?*

*She has betrayed her Talent; let her be destroyed by Talent. Tell your executioner to use darlas.* Thark regretted that, in a way; death by telepathic attack was exquisitely painful. But it was just, and it was honorable.

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