Free Charles Ingrid - marked man 02 The Last Recall by Charles Ingrid

propelled by the ground slope she'd been standing upon. She reached the side of the Caddy breathless, the fine strands of her hair breaking loose from its weave and drifting about her face.
    Thomas looked up at her. His mouth pursed under his silky mustache, but he refrained from comment.
    "The last place I'd have looked for you," she got out, and slid in as he opened the car door.
    "It didn't work, then," he said mournfully. He tucked a longer strand of hair behind her ear.
    "Antisocial so early in the morning?"
    "Please," he said. "There're nearly three hundred people here already, with another fifty or so due in today. All of them politicians."
    "Really, Thomas!" She laughed softly. He had the gift of making her laugh, as well as of making her cry. She grabbed his hand before he could move it out of her reach. "We've testing yet to do this morning and Quinones says Shankar is looking for you."
    "Shankar has found me," the man said. His weathered blue eyes watched over the Caddy's hood, up the length of road which would take them to a point where the Pacific Ocean could be seen clearly and without break, Cat-alina Island on the southward horizon. Because of the moisture from the ocean breeze, grass and shrubs were abundant here, evergreen and Monterey pine, gorse and eucalyptus, citrus trees and ficus, everything imaginable. Everything but homes and the people who had once populated them. Of them no legacy remained but broken foundations. She wondered if he saw what she saw.
    Curiosity prodded her. "What did Shankar want?"
    "He has heard from Denethan. The old coyote has finally sent his son out to be fostered."
    "That's wonderful! We need that ... we need a visible sign of the alliance."
    He scratched the corner of his mouth thoughtfully. "Yes and no. Shankar's tight-mouthed about the boy, but I gather he's a handful even among the Mojavans."
    "We'll put him in school."
    "I think we'll have better luck harnessing him to your mule and letting Candy break him." Thomas stood up. "Well, so much for peace and quiet. Gird yourself, milady. The fray awaits us." He handed her out of the Caddy, gathering her up in a rumple of skirt and literally tossing her over the car door. She went with a girlish squeal and considerable loss of dignity, but landed on her feet.
    "Thomas!"
    His eyes sparked and he gave her the briefest of grins as he landed beside her in a puff of driveway dust. He waved to the house. "The fray is that way."
    "How well I know." Lady gathered herself and they walked to the doors of the flagstone manor. "I, however, can beg to be excused. Candidates are waiting for me."
    "Who's up?"
    "Well, Barbara's made it this far. She can Read fairly well and Project and Block. That's about it for her, but it's all we can hope for. And then there's Stanhope. He's got more to him, I think, than anybody we've seen in a long time. He straightened a broken leg for setting last week with very little pain or disruption to the patient. He Reads well, too. More importantly, he has a significant amount of Projection and Empathy, which means he'll be able to teach future candidates."
    "Someone named that boy well." he held the door open for her. The smells of breakfast and the sound of voices enveloped them.
    "Gillander did, actually, as I remember."
    Thomas stood, stunned by the sudden lack of sunlight and by the futile expectation of waiting for Veronica Warden to glide forward to greet him . It never failed to hit him that Ronnie and Charles were gone from this place. Lady put her hand on his wrist and squeezed comfortingly as she sensed his confusion. He caught himself. "Who else?"
    "Two or three others. Plus we have five more candidates to think about next spring."
    "That many? After the dearth we've had? Where are the genes coming from?"
    "Out of the woodwork. How should I know? Just be grateful."
    There had been only seven of them, barely one for each county and none for the wide expanse of land between county centers. Now,