Myke Cole - Shadow Ops - Control Point

“You’re bleeding,” Downer said.

“You are,” said Therese, reaching out a hand and cupping his cheek. Where Swift’s eyes had held unmitigated hatred, Therese’s were pools of concern. “You have to forgive him,” she said. “Nobody knows exactly what happened to him, but some say the SOC killed his girlfriend bringing him in.”

“I heard his wife,” Pyre added. “He doesn’t talk about it. Nice going.” He glared at Britton.

But Britton ignored him, overcome by the kind words. Careful, that damned farmer said nice things to you, too. Then he shot you. But Britton was momentarily swamped by Therese’s beauty, the touch of her hand on his cheek. Without thinking, he raised his own hand to hers. Warmth flooded his face, the same tingling he’d felt in his chest when he’d lain in the Humvee with the hood over his head. The pain of the scratches vanished, and he could feel the skin on his cheek knitting underneath her touch.

“You’re a Healer,” he said.

“A Healer using her magic in unauthorized conditions.” Salamander stepped forward. “Come on, Therese, you know better. That’s a point for you.”

“Suppress me,” Therese said. “Throw me in the hole with Scylla. I don’t care.”

Salamander raised a hand, but Therese’s work was done. She stepped away from Britton, leaving him rubbing his smooth cheek and longing for the warmth of her hand again.

Salamander shook his head and motioned them starkly toward the open ground, where most of the SASS enrollees were lining up in front of a female SOC captain, her long black hair in a businesslike bun on the back of her head. Five SOC Suppressors milled loosely behind her, submachine guns slung across their chests.

Behind them, Britton could hear the steel door in the cinder-block bunkhouse slam shut behind Swift. He thought he heard a woman’s voice, dark and sonorous, welcoming him. Something in its syrupy tones made him shiver.

“You don’t have to do that,” Britton said to Salamander. “It was just a scratch.”

“It’s for his own good,” Salamander said. “Swift’s got a history here, Novice. Escape attempts, violence against guards and fellow SASS enrollees. If we don’t break that spirit of his, command might decide he’s not worth the trouble.”

“And then what?” Britton asked. “Would they kill him?”

Salamander frowned. “It won’t come to that. They always cooperate in the end.”

Britton thought of Billy, his head covered in electrical leads, his mother crooning in his ear. Had he always been like that? Had the SOC made him that way? Harlequin’s words came floating back to him… just like you will be if you don’t do as you’re told. Britton shuddered.

“What’s going to happen to him in there?” Britton asked, motioning to the pillbox.

Salamander motioned Britton to get into position with the rest of the group. “You ask a lot of questions, Novice, and I’ve been very patient with you thus far. Swift is being rehabilitated. Now, my patience is beginning to wear thin, and you need to stop talking and start listening.

“All right, listen up!” Salamander bellowed to everyone. “It’s been an interesting morning that’s put me out of the mood in which I patiently tolerate your bullshit. This is your morning magical-control class. Some of you have some notion of control. The rest of you are only prevented from having dangerous magical discharges by virtue of the Dampener running in your veins. We’re going to fix that issue. Dampener and the regimented nature of SOC training will impair the raw emotional outpouring and check your power. But it has been the SOC’s experience that cold discipline is ever the master of wild emotion. It is our mantra, and one you will take to heart—‘safe and controlled.’ Selfers may make great displays of powerful magic, but the reason they cannot stand against us is because they don’t know the meaning of those two words. It is the same reason why the Goblins lack the ability to truly affect this outpost. Given the choice between power and control, a SOC Sorcerer chooses control. Remember, skill beats will, every time.”

Britton thought of the last time he’d heard those words, hovering in a Kiowa beside a burning school.

“We’re going to talk about the two fundamentals of safe, controlled magic use. These are Drawing and Binding. Before we talk about these, I want to reiterate what I just said. Safe and controlled, remember it, learn it, live it. First question, how do we stay safe and controlled?”

There was a pause as he waited for an answer from the audience.

“Anybody?” goaded Salamander, starting to smile. He turned to the female SOC captain beside him. “Captain Stormspinner?”

“Come on, people,” growled Stormspinner, her voice deep and mannish. She crossed her arms impatiently. “In case you didn’t notice, that’s a giant fucking fence all around you. It’s not like you can go anywhere. We own you for the nonce, and the only way out of here is attached to that flagpole. Demonstrating control of your magical abilities is the first step to making it there.”

Finally, one of the Novices shot his hand up. “By obeying orders?” he asked.

“That’s right,” Stormspinner said. “You have to stick to the rules. They may seem constraining at first. Magic is a wild and tempting thing, but it can only be manipulated to effective use under safe and controlled conditions. The rules have been laid down by more experienced soldiers who have gone before you. Respect them and respect this power you are lucky enough to possess. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“An overachiever, but I like your enthusiasm. Good. All right, here we go. Drawing and Binding. There are two things that every sorcerer must be able to do to manipulate magic. The first is to Draw it.

“Magic is little more than an elemental force here in the Source. I’d say it’s like air over here, but the truth is that nobody knows what it is. You may notice that magic is much stronger in the Source than it is back in the Home Plane. Keep that in mind as you work with it. When you are going to work magic, you first have to gather the fuel for it. You have to Draw the fuel supply from the magical current around you. Everybody with me?”

“Okay, good,” Salamander took over. “Drawing from your current is easier than you think. Remember, you all Drew from it either knowingly or accidentally when you first Manifested. I’d bet a lot of you already know how to Draw. After we’ve discussed this, we’re going to teach you some meditative exercises to help you learn how to Draw at will, but as you get better, you’ll find you can do it without even thinking. For most of you, it’ll be that easy by the time you go back to the schoolhouse to do your studying.”

He turned to Stormspinner. “Captain, would you mind demonstrating?”

There was no look of concentration, no mumbling of incantations. She merely extended her hand, and a bright, blue ball of ice hovered in her open palm.

“Now, this isn’t Drawing alone,” Stormspinner said. “I have to Bind the magic to make it visible. There isn’t a way to make the Drawing process itself visible, but what you’re looking at is Hydromancy at its rawest. This is the material that I use to build a spell.”

With that, she tossed the ball up in the air. It came down as a quantity of water, splashing a few of the Novices, who laughed and covered their heads.

She smiled. “Now that was a spell.”

“Okay, settle down people,” Salamander called to the some of the enrollees who were laughing and flicking water at one another. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today.

“Here’s where your first safety tip comes in. When you Draw from the Source, you’re offering your being up as a magnet to pull it out. It’s like fishing, and the bait is you.