Free Harsh Lessons by L. J. Kendall Page B

refused to be drawn further, eagerly accepting Preacher’s challenge to a game of poker.
    Emma left them to it, sinking herself back into the newsfeed on her tridsheet, the flexible display held up to signal her activity.  Fifteen minutes passed before James tensed, so abruptly it made the other two turn to see what had caused the reaction.
    Leeth was in the room, halfway to them.
    'Hello, Leeth,' James said, and Emma noticed he'd put his cards face down on the table, watching the girl with a carefully neutral expression, his arms loose at his sides.  Emma had seen that same deceptive readiness from him before.  On missions.
    'Hi.'
    Preacher merely grunted.
    But Leeth didn't move: just stood staring at James, her eyes narrowed.
    James had grown even more tense: and with a sense of shock, Emma saw her augments register that James's had just entered combat mode.  Preacher's head went up, and he looked on with interest.
    And Leeth….
    Leeth relaxed. With a private little smile now on her face, she padded silently over to them on bare feet, seating herself cross-legged in one of the large stuffed leather chairs by the card table.
    She wore just a thin singlet and a pair of denim shorts, her skin gleaming with a sheen of perspiration.
    Emma smiled a tentative greeting and Leeth smiled back, but said nothing.  Emma's augments signaled as James powered back down.  She glanced back at him as he warily picked up his cards.  «James: what was that all about?»
    James though, with lips pursed, ignored her.
    Turning her attention to her 'sheet, Emma began angrily clicking through the articles she'd selected.
    Silence fell while James and Preacher studied their cards.  Leeth watched them all intently.
    At last James looked up.  'How are your lessons going today, Leeth?’
    Her eyes lit up, and she stretched comprehensively.  'Sensei just finished with me for today.  I don't have anything till Emma's free this afternoon.'
    'Killed anyone today?' Preacher asked sarcastically.
    James's head jerked up to stare at Preacher.
    'No.'  Leeth cocked her head to one side, trying to work out the reason for Preacher's strange tone of voice.  'I've been too busy, and I'm not allowed out.'
    Emma laughed at the response, but it caught in her throat at the look James turned on her.  She stared from the girl to James, his grim expression telling her more than she wanted to know.  Father's injunction about safe topics of conversation made sudden sickening sense.
    With a hollow feeling in her stomach Emma cued a search onto her newssheet: "opera and murder."  There .  She read it, quickly.  The murder of a well-known soprano at the War Memorial Opera House last night.  Just like several other murders over the last few months.  Gruesome.
    Hard to believe the happy young girl before her could be responsible.  Could be "The Breaker": the name some newsment shows had given the killer.  Emma looked at Leeth with an equal mix of horror at what she'd done and pity for her future; then bent her head back to her ’sheet.
    At least it explained how Leeth had come to Eagle's attention.
    'When d'you go out on your next mission?' Leeth asked the group.  The three operatives exchanged frowns.
    'Why do you want to know?' demanded Preacher.
    'I thought maybe you could ask Father if I could come with you, to help?'
    Preacher snorted.  'Chip out, girl.  You've been here what, a few weeks?  Ask again in six months.'
    'Six months?  You mean weeks, right?’  She looked from one face to another.  ‘Are you serious ?'
    At Preacher's amused nod, she sprang from her chair.  'Six months ?'  She prowled around the billiard table, grimacing, then circled the coffee machine.  'Six months!'
    'You've got a lot to learn, yet, Leeth,' Emma answered gently.  'We all have to teach you as much as we can.'
    Leeth stood, tense.  'Well,' she gestured vaguely with one open hand, then frowned.  'Preacher!  Can you teach me some more shooting?  Now?'
    'I'm