Free Future Dreams by T.J. Mindancer

and for the first time gazed at Jame.
    “Why?” Tigh’s intense blue eyes, softened by the cleansing and haunted by the memories of what she had done as a Guard, reached straight into Jame’s soul.
    “Because you deserve it,” Jame said.
    Tigh slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chin. “I don’t deserve it.”
    “Yes, you do.” Jame wanted to shake some sense into Tigh. “You are not Tigh the Terrible. You have the rest of your life to be the Tigh you wanted to be before you were recruited.”
    Tigh shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
    “Then be the Tigh you are today.”
    Tigh sighed. “When people look at me they see Tigh the Terrible.” She captured Jame’s eyes. “When I look at myself I see a monster not worthy of being allowed to live a normal life again.”
    “When I look at you, I see a woman who has the right to a life outside these walls.” Jame jumped to her feet and grabbed hold of the bars. Tigh raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to make up for the wrongs you did as Tigh the Terrible or do you want to spend the rest of your life in a cell, feeling sorry for yourself?”
    Tigh pushed to her feet and lunged at the door. She wrapped her strong hands over Jame’s smaller ones and held them against the bars. They stared at each other for several heartbeats, so close that Jame felt the warmth coming off Tigh and a strange tingle flowing into her hands.
    Tigh, confusion in her eyes, pulled her hands away from Jame’s and stumbled back.
    Jame took a deep breath and held onto the bars to steady her lightheadedness. She had never reacted to another person like that before.
    “We’ll try it your way for a while,” Tigh mumbled.

 
    Chapter 7

    The residence for the assistant arbiters was unusually quiet for that time of evening. The arbiters, along with the rest of the students at the school, were out enjoying the first beautiful day of early summer.
    Jame gnawed on the end of her quill and gazed out the window at her colleagues. They were dashing around the green and kicking a leather ball in a loose game of Glak. The preparation of Tigh’s argument had taken longer than she usually spent on a case, and her regular course work had suffered. So, while her friends showed off creative techniques at playing Glak, she had to catch up on writing assigned essays. Anyway, she mused as she smiled, Tigh was well worth missing a game of Glak over.
    Jame enjoyed the time she spent with the quiet warrior. They had developed a kind of rapport and found they could comfortably work together. Everyone else looked at her as if she had sprung wings when she told them she wasn’t having any problems with Tigh. But the others refused to see beyond Tigh the Terrible. Jame found it sad because she discovered in Tigh a sweet, almost shy woman with a wry sense of humor that seeped into their interactions.
    A hard click of boots against the wood floor of the common room captured Jame’s attention. Many of the arbiters wore soft-soled boots so they wouldn’t disturb the studious quiet of the school. She took in the fine cut of clothing worn by the approaching pair before she noticed that the woman had startling familiar features.
    “Jamelin Ketlas?” an older version of Tigh asked, as the pair stopped on the threshold of the chamber.
    “Yes.” Jame put down her quill and stood to greet her visitors. This was a surprise. One of the sad tragedies of the rehabilitation process was that too many of the Guards’ parents had turned their backs on their children once the true nature of the enhancements had been revealed. Tigh was probably the last Guard anyone would suspect of having a supportive family.
    “I’m Paldon Tigis and this is my life companion, Joul,” Paldon said. “We’re here for Paldar’s hearing tomorrow and were so looking forward to meeting you that we sought you out right away. We hope we’re not disturbing you.”
    “Oh, no.” Jame waved a hand at her desk strewn with books and