Free WARP world by Kristene Perron, Joshua Simpson Page A

triumph? Who processed, disbursed and controlled the collected vita of the World? The Central Well Authority, of which Jul Akbas had been a member since her graduation from Orhalze Scholastic Academy, sixteen years ago.
    The CWA administrative facility included an observation deck, where high-level management could take in a meal and look out upon the main instrument of their power and position in the World. As of today, that senior administration included Jul Akbas.
    She shifted her focus and examined her reflection in the thick wall of glass, to ensure everything was in its place, organized. Like the Well, she stood tall, polished, productive. She looked back out at the Well and felt the pride of her personal achievement mirrored in that iconic edifice.
    The observation deck was sparsely populated at the off-hour. Light, repetitive tones of music droned in the background, while well-trained serving caj padded silently on bare feet to refill drinks or deliver meals.
    She held the rail with one hand as she looked back toward the entrance. The man who entered was lanky, taller than most, with neatly-trimmed grey hair and a sculpted beard. Supervisory Gran Fi Restis smiled as he approached.
    Until thirty minutes ago, Gran Fi Restis had been her superior.
    “Efectuary Akbas,” Gran said, stressing the title. “Congratulations. Taking in the view for the last time?”
    She nodded and slipped away from the rail toward one of the secluded booths. As with so many products on the World, the booth and cushions were blended from extruded huchack fibers, and bleached free of the toxins the creatures left on everything they touched. However, for the upper echelons of the CWA, the material had also been laboriously softened–an expensive process few could afford. Draped over the plain seats were shimmering fabrics, the spoils of some raid.
    Jul sat first, according to protocol, a reflection of her new rank and superiority to the man who slid in across from her.
    “Supervisory Fi Restis, thank you for coming. We will be able to do great things in Orhalze,” Jul said.
    The center of the table lit up as they sat, revealing a selection of glowing icons. Gran waited while Jul pressed an icon for her drink order before he made his own choice.
    “Well, the visit isn’t all pleasure,” he said, then passed his digipad across the table to her. “One last impression, then your duties here are complete. Standard forms, code transfer approval and the like.”
    Jul knew he expected her to press her thumb to the document without so much as a cursory glance. That was why Gran Fi Restis, ten years her senior, would forever remain a Supervisory. She read through the entire document, gave her impression, and slid the digipad back without a word.
    “When do you meet Director Fi Costk?” Gran asked.
    “In tweny minutes,” Jul answered, the mixture of pride, excitement and fear barely detectable in her tone.
    Adirante Fi Costk, Director of External Affairs, was perhaps the most powerful of the five CWA Directors, power accrued over the course of decades. A hard and challenging man who did not tolerate failure–admirable qualities.
    The drinks arrived and Gran lifted his glass to Jul.
    “We will be discussing the latest acquisition cycle,” she said, after a small sip.
    “Have you made your assessments of current raids?” Gran asked.
    “There are four recon missions in progress. Two are led by veteran Theorists known for making safe, conservative assessments that lead to minimal expenditure and minimal gains. Both noted for breaking even.” As she spoke, her hand flexed around her glass. “The third is a corporate-sponsored raid. A possible option, but we are prioritizing the Houses.”
    There were two entities on the World who sponsored raids: Corporations and Houses. In the actual process, there was no difference between the two. They both bid for the right to sponsor a raid; both hired Theorists and recon squads to survey the targeted