Future Dreams by T.J. Mindancer Page A

piece into her mouth, then dissected the plate of marinated palm hearts nestled in an intriguing assortment of greens.
    A throat cleared to get her attention. She almost laughed, considering she had heard this person wheezing as he climbed the final flight of stairs. The stillness on her floor acted as a magnifier for any foreign sound. She cut her vegetables into precise mouth size bits.
    “Uh . . . excuse me.” The voice of a young male grated her ears as it cracked from tense fear.
    Tigh gathered a forkful of greens and savored the delicate flavor that saturated her mouth. She then investigated the potato dish that she had never seen before. The cooks were endlessly creative in the preparation of her food.
    “I’m, uh, Jadic Pondersac.” The voice quavered. “I’m here to argue your case—”
    Tigh emitted a low growl and then chuckled as she stuck her fork into the mound of potatoes. The only thing left of the arbiter was the echo of rapid footfalls in the corridor.
    How could she expect an arbiter to defend her if the person was frightened silly of her? She stared at the tarnished mirror across the cell and wondered if she had just scared off her last chance at freedom.
    She filled her fork and tasted the new offering. No. She did the right thing. Her freedom would have been as much at risk with that trembling rabbit than if no other arbiter stepped forward and volunteered.
    She had seen only one face since her return that hadn’t shown any fear of her. Her enhancements gave her the ability to sense fear as keenly as a wild animal was known to do and all she had felt when she held that young woman’s eyes was curiosity and sympathy.
    “It’d be my luck she’s the cook’s assistant,” she said to the wall.

 
    Chapter 6

    After reading the same sentence for the fifth time, Jame gave up trying to study. She’d been determined to stay out of the almost insane activities of her colleagues during the last two days. What began as a noble but sincere gesture from Jadic, turned into a challenge for all comers to take a try at. That in turn became a constant chatter of who had the scariest encounter with the former Tigh the Terrible.
    The twelfth and last assistant arbiter, aside from Jame, had just left to meet the challenge. Her confident boasting still echoed in Jame’s ears.
    Jame pushed back from her little table tucked in the corner of the room she shared with Daneran and looked through the doorway into the common room. All the other assistants were clustered together trading for the umpteenth time what they would do if they had another chance to face Tigh the Terrible.
    Jame knew what they had done wrong. She’d gathered from the rumors and whisperings in the corridors that Tigh, unlike the other Guards who had gone through the cleansing process, had actually enjoyed being a warrior and missed it. Whatever she had wanted to be before she was recruited, she wanted to be a warrior now.
    Tigh’s problem was how society would accept a Tigh the Terrible in peacetime. Her whole attitude revolved around the warrior’s code of behavior and if Jame’s well-meaning colleagues displayed even a bit of the fear they admitted to feeling in Tigh’s presence, Tigh would think they weren’t capable of defending her.
    Growing up in a warrior society does have its advantages , Jame mused, as the chatter ceased and her friends’ attention turned to the outside door. That was quick .
    A breathless Swene charged into the common room. Her long red hair was disheveled from the spring winds. “I’m not embarrassed to say that I was wrong. There’s one human being in this world beyond the skills of an arbiter.” The others, ravenous for the details, gathered around her.
    Jame took a deep breath and stared at the wall for a few heartbeats. She stood, shook the long hours of study from her legs, and slipped down the crooked corridor to Ingel’s chambers.
    Ingel was watering the jungle of plants in front of the window and