Interphase (37 page)

"What is going on?"

The drones pulled Thomas bodily away from his opponent, while members of his own team grabbed his arms to prevent him from attacking anyone else. There was a brief but intense shouting match between the Titan captain and several referees, which ended with Thomas being removed from the field.

"David, look." Analara pointed to the overhead monitor.

The replay began with the image of Thomas staring at something as the ball went in play, a look of unbridled fury growing on his face. A Quicksilver forward crashed into him during his moment of distraction, and Thomas retaliated viciously. David watched in horror as Thomas beat his opponent senseless, bent his arm behind his back, and wrenched it hard, sending the Quicksilver member into the gravity well.

David shared a concerned glance with Analara when the replay ended. Once again he tried sending a tell to Thomas, but this time, he was relieved when he met only silence.

***

Shalaron drew a breath and let it out slowly, silently counting out a rhythm. In the sliver of daylight he watched Rupu. The young man kept his eyes closed as he tried to match the pace, but tiny flinches kept playing across his face, and his brow creased. "Your mind wanders too easily," Shalaron murmured, keeping his voice low so that the guards would not overhear.

Rupu let out his remaining breath in a rush. "Forgive me, my Sage. My thoughts keep slipping away from me."

"That is the work of the malan. It clouds the senses and distorts the mind, robbing you of the focus needed to call forth your inner strength," Shalaron whispered forcefully. "If you had not insisted on keeping your abilities hidden, your concentration would not be so lax now."

The young man swallowed and kept his gaze downward. "My Sage, I-I… forgive me."

Shalaron made another sound of disapproval and settled back against the wall. From the corner came the sound of Varlath's light snoring. Rupu closed his eyes and made another attempt at focusing himself, without success. After several minutes of observation, Shalaron sat up. "Why?"

Rupu started. "My lord?"

"Why did you keep your nature a secret?"

"Because…" The boy sighed and hung his head. "My lord, I was happy living the life that I knew. A Sage is called upon to lead, or to wander if he is unfit for leadership. The power they…
we
wield is greatly respected, but also feared. I have my siblings and my friends, and I didn't wish for them to see only my abilities and forget who I truly am. And because…" Rupu paused. "Though the elders of the city chose to bypass your first Rite of Offering, I knew that if I revealed myself, one day, they would expect me to challenge you."

In the darkness, Shalaron lifted an eyebrow. "You fear me that much, Rupu?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"Yes, my lord. To some extent, all fear your power." In the wavering light Shalaron saw him striving for the correct words. "I mean, you are powerful, and stern. But you always seem to have a reason behind your actions, and you have led Ilinar well. The old in the city speak of you as one of the greatest Sages our world has ever known. I could never be your equal in leading our people. But now that my power is needed, I feel that…" Rupu's expression became frustrated. "By Siath, I hate this feeling! I can't keep a straight thought anymore."

"Be still." Shalaron moved away from the wall and toward the meager light. "Come here."

Rupu shuffled closer, and Shalaron directed him to turn around, so that they faced the same direction. Resting on his knees, Shalaron placed his palms against the young man's back. Even clouded, his trained mind probed Rupu easily, feeling the tides inside him drift and course. He marveled at the untapped strength and force of will within his young charge. Though his own mind was muddled, he could see an inkling of the Sage Rupu could become.

"Relax within yourself," Shalaron commanded. "I want you to focus on the beating of your heart. Push everything else from your mind and concentrate only on that."

Muscles contracted beneath Shalaron's hands as Rupu settled into a comfortable position. The young man's breathing began to slow. His fidgeting calmed, and after several minutes ceased altogether. "Can you hear it?"

"Yes," Rupu murmured softly. "I hear it. Slow and steady."

"That is where your focus lies. Dwell within that center. Protect it. If you maintain that calm within yourself, it will not matter how chaotic the world becomes. It is your true sanctuary, and from there you must gather the power to battle the malan."

Rupu sighed deeply and flexed his shoulders. "Can it truly be done, my Sage?"

Shalaron took his hands away and sat back. "Yes, with the proper focus. Turn around. We will continue."

A glimmer of light caught in the boy's eyes as he turned to face Shalaron, enough for him to see his apprentice's doubt. He pursed his lips; they were running out of time. Sarolkh would no doubt visit them soon.

At Shalaron's direction, Rupu began the cycle again. His focus was stronger, but Shalaron could feel the young man's tension. As time stretched on, Rupu's hands began to shake.

"You have your center at your call. Use it, boy."

"I-I can't! The fog is too thick, I can't keep a grip."

Shalaron felt his impatience rising. "You are a sage. A world shaper. The words 'can not' do not exist for you. All things are possible through force of will. Stop fearing your own nature!"

"But—"

Shalaron's hand lashed out and gripped Rupu beneath the chin. Rupu's eyes went wide as Shalaron's gaze bored into him. "Do not question me again, adept. If I had known this technique twenty years ago, the Betrayal would never have come to pass!"

Rupu stared in shock and struggled to form a sentence, but Shalaron kept his grip firm and his pupil silent. "On the eve of Etahk's assault, Mahlonar, my Seneschal, slipped a strong dose of the malan into my lispin. My mind was in shambles, and I was all but useless when the first ranks of warriors swept through the city, killing all in their path. How many lives might I have saved if I had broken free?" Shalaron fixed his gaze on Rupu's eyes. "How many of our people's lives are
you
willing to risk because of your own fear?"

Shalaron released Rupu and watched the insecurity within him split into myriad emotions. Anger, regret, and determination all collided with one another, fighting for dominance. Slowly, his face set in an expression of focus, and he balled his hands into fists. "What must I do?"

"Break even a single strand of your awareness through the haze, and draw heat within yourself. You must scorch your blood to purge the taint of the malan from you. When you can not endure the pain any further, release the fire."

Rupu shut his eyes again and breathed deeply. Shalaron probed his face, watching as the calm flooded through the young man. With his inner senses he searched farther. He felt Rupu struggling through bone and muscle, blood and mist. At the edge of his senses he detected a surge of heat, and though Rupu fought to hold it in he could not stop the cry of pain.

Shalaron caught him as he slumped forward. The young sage's chest heaved, and warmth radiated off his skin. "Good, adept. Very good."

"I think I cooked my insides," Rupu panted. He straightened, and the glossy sheen over his eyes was gone.

"Now you are going to do the same for me."

"I'm
what
?"

"Sarolkh is no fool. My reputation is such that he dosed me with an immense amount of malan. If I were not a Sage, such a dose would likely have been fatal. You must cleanse my system and restore my powers. Only then will we be able to free our city."

"But, my Sage, I c—" Rupu caught himself in time. He sighed and nodded. "As you command."

"I will assist you." Shalaron guided Rupu's hands, one pressed against his forehead, the other hovering over his chest. With ease Shalaron fell into his own center, lowering his internal defenses so that the power lingering beyond his reach could find a purchase.
Now.

Fire rushed through his veins, and the instincts of his body screamed at the sensation. Shalaron could feel the haze part slightly, but not enough.
More.
The flames intensified, and still the fog remained.
Unleash your full power, adept.
The inferno that raged within would have killed a normal man in mere moments. As the pain coursed through his veins, Shalaron floated in his center, surrounded by boiling blood. Finally, the terrible heat scoured his body clean, and his mind drew power into him like a whirlpool.

Shalaron rose slowly to his feet, his body absorbing the chill of the cell to cool his raging blood. His powers, now unleashed, flooded to the surface, demanding release. He braced his hands against the back wall of the prison. The stone shuddered, then softened, as the pure force channeling into it wore away its strength. With a push of Shalaron's hand, the outer wall collapsed into dust. He turned and a stream of fire leapt from his finger to etch a symbol in one of the standing walls.

"Rouse Varlath, quickly," he commanded. "If the Siathrak pursue us, defend yourself by any means necessary."

***

The penalty box was a sub-program of the arena module, and it cut Thomas off completely from the rest of the world. All he could do within was stalk across the gray, featureless chamber. No sounds from the game reached him; he was sealed in solitude, with only his anger and embarrassment for company.

He remembered what it was like to hold Jessica in his arms. Remembered their first fateful kiss. It had been his moment of sweet bliss with the only woman he vowed he would ever love. Now it was nothing more than a memory, like everything else he cared about in his life. What had he done? What sin had he committed, that the world saw fit to punish him so completely, reaching out to taint even his most precious memories.

A patch of air shimmered, and Steve materialized in the room, still in the process of removing his helmet. By the expression on his captain's face, Thomas knew the rest of the game had not gone well, but he found that he no longer cared. What was the point of caring, when everything meaningful had already been stripped from him?

"All right, Thomas. Could you please explain to me," Steve asked slowly, "just what the hell happened out there?"

Thomas said nothing. His emotions had died down to a smolder just beneath the surface, and he had no answer to give. At least, no answer that would make sense.

"The Quicksilver want to have you banned from the league. Do you even realize what you did? If we had been playing in the real world, you would have dislocated their man's shoulder and broken his arm! The first game of the play-offs, and you just…" Steve shook his head in disbelief.

"What do you want me to say?" Thomas muttered. "I lost my temper."

"Lost your temper? Flinging their defender into the side of the grav sphere was losing your temper. At the end there, you went completely freaking nuts! Hell, your own teammates want me to call in the drones to get your head examined. Damn it all, give me one good reason why I shouldn't do exactly that."

Thomas growled deep in his throat. "So I've gone mad then?"

"It's either that, or you're on one of those mindlace programs to get high." Steve gave a sigh and rubbed his forehead. "Thom, talk to me, please. This is
not
like you at all. You're damn near the best player on the team, and you've been a good friend the last couple years. I don't want to lose you, but I need something to tell the league."

"Is the game the only thing that you care about?" Thomas shouted. He felt the emotional scars tearing open again, like gaping holes in his chest. "You have no idea what I've just been through!"

"How the hell can I when you won't tell me? I'm not a bloody psychic," Steve fired back, and he and Thomas stood staring at one another. The heat died down, leaving nothing but the raw, black wound slowly bleeding Thomas's soul dry. Tears glimmered in his eyes, and words rose to his lips.

He choked them back. If his teammates already thought he was insane, then hearing the truth would convince them of it. He turned his back on Steve. "If you're going to kick me off of the team, then be done with it," he said. "Even without me, the Titans can still claim the championship."

"Thomas…" Steve sighed. "If you don't want to come clean with it, then I'll chase after you. This is about the girl that dumped you, isn't it?"

Thomas's breath caught. He felt like he'd just been kicked in the stomach. "What did you say?" he asked ominously.

"The cute blonde you've been dating. I saw where you were staring on the replay. After your ejection, I saw her getting cozy with another guy in the stands. I know it's rough, but man, you have to forget her. If she's going to do something that cold after you've just broken up, she wasn't worth it to—"

Thomas's body reacted before his mind knew what was happening. Spinning around, he drove his fist straight into Steve's nose. Blood spurted, and his captain fell to the ground.

"Don't you
dare
speak about such things in front of me," Thomas bellowed. Dimly he realized tears were running down his cheeks. "I will not stand idly by while you stain her memory!"

Steve clutched at his bleeding nose, his eyes refocusing after the shock of the blow. He rose shakily to his feet and shook his head. "So this is what you do to a friend that tries to help?" he growled. "All right, Thomas, you've made your decision. If you want another piece of me, I'll make you pay for it."

Thomas's mind finally caught up with his actions, and his eyes widened as he realized exactly what had just happened. He dropped his hands to his sides and hung his head. "Steve, I… I didn't—"

"Just stop. I'm done with this.
You're
done." Steve shut his eyes and turned away. "Get your stuff together and clear out. There's no place for you on the team any longer."

A million things rose to Thomas's lips, but he knew that nothing he said could take back what had just happened. With the tears still fresh in his eyes, he turned away and exited the module.

Chapter 32