Page 4 of Wired Ghost

Connor adjusted a recruit’s stance near him with a touch of the ivory baton he carried. Moving on, he corrected another man’s kick, falling in beside him to model the proper form. He moved to the end of the row, and then, when all of the fight choreography had been completed, and Pi had given the signal to fall back into stillness, Connor raised his hands and gave the daily blessing.

The men dispersed to their various tasks, leaving Connor and Pi alone in the courtyard.

It was time.

Connor nodded to Nine, his closest friend and ally in the organization. Nine trotted off. They’d discussed this plan in advance, and Connor approached Pi. “Come. Take breakfast with me in the garden, and we will discuss the progress of the men.”

Pi was a harshly handsome man, bulkier than Connor, with dark eyes and expressive black brows. His hair, too, was growing out and was already longer than the blond fuzz covering Connor’s scalp now that he no longer had to shave it.

Connor led the man through the maze of aisles and stairs to the Master’s garden. This sanctuary was the antithesis of the Spartan environment of the compound, with its ancient stone and lack of ornamentation. The garden was surrounded by high walls to protect it from the jungle and the elements. Beautiful flowering and fruit trees lined those walls. A koi pond, thick with water lilies, was the centerpiece. The grass around the pond was smooth as velvet, and a table waited under one of the trees, already laid with two places and their meal dishes.

He felt Pi wondering at the beauty of the place, at Connor’s motives for bringing him there. This wasn’t telepathy, but an odd kind of knowing, a sense of the emotions of those around him. Connor’s new ability to slow and manipulate time was evolving in new directions. He had to speak to the Master about it as soon as possible.But that time was not now.

Connor brought his attention back to the moment. Facing the pond was a six-foot high, one-foot diameter, column of tiger’s eye gemstone. That plinth had been the site of Connor’s first exposure to the Master’s incredible abilities, powers he was beginning to share.

“I have a test for you,” Connor told Pi. “Something the Master showed me.”

Pi glanced around the garden, but his gaze came back to the column as he stood beside Connor. Early morning sun struck the stone and seemingly lit it from within. Light flared over the polished surface in mesmerizing patterns.

“What is this test, Number One?” As always, Pi’s words were outwardly respectful but vibrated with challenge.

“Leap up on top of that pillar, seat yourself in lotus position, and engage in meditation. When you feel ready, dismount and land standing.” Connor well-remembered the Master, one of the first times he had met with him privately, seated cross-legged atop the column. The first rays of the morning sun had struck the gem, turning the column to fire. Connor would never forget standing there, wondering how the Master had gotten to the top, let alone seated himself in that position.

And then the Master had dismounted with a flip, landing on his feet in the grass, perfectly serene.

“Looks easy enough,” Pi said.

Connor did not reply.

Pi approached the column. He had clearly never seen the Master at meditation there, or he would not have done what he did—he grasped the column with his hands and thighs, gripping on with tree trunk legs and powerful arms, attempting to shinny up the pillar. He almost made it to the top, but then slid down the length of the pole to land in a disgruntled heap on the grass.

Pi immediately began another assault on the stone column.

Connor might as well get comfortable. He walked over to the table, sat down, and uncovered the dishes, poured himself tea and began a breakfast of eggs, fried rice, and fresh vegetables from the compound’s garden.

Pi continued to attempt to climb the plinth, but every time he neared the top, he slid back down. Connor was reminded of watching greased pole climbing contests on YouTube, in another life before this one.

Finally, Pi was able to hook his fingers over the top of the plinth, and, using pure arm strength, drag his body up onto the circular, flat top. The diameter was too narrow for Pi to get his feet under him to stand, or even sit. He hung, draped over the pillar’s crown, on his belly.

He glared over at Connor, who was nearly finished with his breakfast. “I will have to work up to this task.”

“So it appears. Come have some breakfast before it gets cold.” Connor picked up his teacup and took a sip.

Pi shoved back off of the top of the tiger’s eye and slid to the ground, frustration in his abrupt movements. Connor, watching the man’s energy field, frowned as it darkened from dark blue to almost black around the edges.

That was all the warning he had, as Pi reached into the pocket of hisgi. A flash of metal—and something was flying toward Connor.

Connor stretched time, slowing it down—and he saw a steel ninja star spinning gently, end over end, moving through the air like a child’s whirligig and headed straight for Connor’s head.

Connor got up from his seat, moving at normal speed, and plucked the six-bladedshurikenout of the air, absorbing its momentum with a whirl of his own. He sandwiched it between his palms and walked over to Pi. The man’s face was mottled with rage and his energy had gone black with hate.

Connor would have to find someone else to be his leadership partner. He shut his eyes; he felt nothing but compassion and sorrow for Pi. The man could have had all that he wanted, but he’d let jealousy control him.

Connor positioned himself directly in front of his rival, and allowed time to move forward normally again.

Pi crashed into him, carried forward by the momentum of his throw. Connor steadied him with a hand on his shoulder and held out the star, glinting on his palm. “This is yours.”

Pi’s eyes widened. He staggered back and away from Connor’s touch, sputtering. “How did you . . .”

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