The Headteacher and I entered a round room with no furniture or inhabitants, but many doors. Norae opened one, which led into a short hallway, which then opened into a broad, grandly furnished chamber. Many tables and chairs, all finely polished, rested atop an intricately patterned carpet. Hangings and paintings covered the walls. But the vast room's most dominating features were its shelves and shelves of books. I stared at them in wonder. Books had been a rare commodity at Mission Training, and even rarer at every other place I'd been. So this is where they all are, I thought amusedly as I stared at the beautiful room and all its wonders.

I noticed that Norae had observed my reaction upon entry, though she made no comment. She simply crossed the broad floor and knocked on a small door. I saw that several doors also led out of this room , and in a rush of anxiety I wondered how I'd ever find my way around the place.

The small door opened and a short, frail-looking old woman emerged, a lead and a marker in hand.

"Yes, Headteacher?" the woman asked, her voice pleasant and clear.

"This is Brytani Sarliss, our newest prospective student. She's a missioneer." I thought this fact should have been obvious, given my uniform and badge; then the old woman took out an eye-glass to see me clearly. I stepped forward tentatively. Norae continued, "Bryt, this is Faudry, our historian and record-keeper."

"I'm pleased to meet you," I said dutifully.

Faudry mumbled a response, turned around, and reentered the room from which she'd come. "She's gathering her materials," Norae explained with a twinkle in her eye. "You're here for your interview. It's customary."

I recalled what she'd said about tedious and boring questions, but kept my expression carefully neutral as Faudry was returning, now carrying a thin stack of leaves as well as her marker.

"More records. I've got more records than I know what to do with and you ask me to create new ones," the old woman sounded irritated, but I cold see the excited gleam in her eyes. "Well, you'd best be off," she said, briskly shooing Norae out of the room. "Let's not waste time, now."

So, swinging her head back with laughter, Norae walked away, back down the hallway through which we'd entered.

"Well, let's just get going now. Sit down at that table there. That's right. Quickly now, just answer all my questions as best you can." Faudry sat down opposite me and spread her papers out in front of her.

"Spell your name for me, please." I did. I was amused at the fact that everything about the little old woman was gray � gray curly hair, gray eyes, gray shirt and pants, even her wrinkled skin was tinged with gray. But she seemed a very lively and active woman for her age, despite her drab appearance.

"Age?"

"Eighteen years." She wrote it down.

"And eleven months," I added, still feeling the need to qualify myself because of my young age. Faudry jotted it down.

"Do you know the first or last names of either of your parents?" was the next question.

"No."

"Anything about either of their origins or histories?"

"No."

"The Mother who cared for you as a baby?"

"No."

"Your earliest playmates?"

"No."

Faudry sighed. I was beginning to feel defensive. It wasn't my fault I didn't know any of this information. Surely not everyone else here did.

Reading my thoughts, Faudry said apologetically, "No, it's not your fault. Most answer 'no' to these questions, but it's such a great help when they know. You see, my real job as historian is to trace the pathic ability. I am trying to discover whether it is passed from mother to daughter or occasionally son, or father to daughter, or instilled in early childhood. For we've learned for certain that the ability must be present in the child to exist in the adult. You have had this ability for all of your remembered life, correct?"

"I guess so," I said, a little bewildered.

"Why did you never come for Pathic Training, then? You do realize that eighteen is quite old to begin training?"

"No, I didn't know that," I responded. "I guess I never knew my abilities were anything special." Not exactly true, but better than the real answer.

"No one ever told you that you were empath potential?"

"Not in those words."

Faudry sighed again, this time clearly exasperated with me, which only served to anger me.

"Look, my goal was to become a missioneer, not an empath. Honestly, the only reason I'm here is to become more useful as a missioneer. I'm sorry," I said defiantly.

"Well, that's a good reason to be here," Faudry conceded. "Wish more'd show up for that reason. I only wish you'd come sooner. Training is so much easier in the young. But Norae seems to like you �" the woman scowled, but I sensed her respect and devotion for the younger Headteacher "� so I guess you'll be taught one way or another. You'll be taught."

To that I had no reply, so I asked simply, "Is the interview over?"

"Don't we both wish it," Faudry grumbled, and proceeded to ask me what seemed like hundreds more questions about every facet of my life from early childhood to the present. Remembering what she'd said before, I was as honest as I could be, except for the story about the jailbreak. My loyalty was still with my team, even if I wouldn't see them again for awhile. I just told Faudry that Shay had been the Captain I'd been with since leaving Mission Training, and hoped the old woman couldn't read my mind well enough to know I was lying.

"Well, that's all. You can get out of here now," Faudry said so abruptly that at first I tried to think of the answer to the question.

"What?" I asked, looking up.

"We're done here," she said, gathering up her papers.

"Oh. Where should I go now?"

"Oh, Norae or some messenger of hers should be along for you soon. She's efficient enough." And with that, the old historian turned and walked back through the door from which she'd entered, shut it silently, and was gone.

So I just sat there, puzzled. Thanks a lot, old woman, I thought and hoped Norae would return soon. She did. In fact, I heard a door open just then. I was relieved to see Norae, but skeptical about what this meant I would do next.

"So, how did the interview go?" she asked cheerfully.

"Okay, I guess," I answered, getting up. "I don't really know."

"I'm sure it was fine, then; if Faudry were displeased, she'd certainly have let you know it."

"What do I do next?" I asked.

"Next we'll get you some suitable clothing, and maybe cut your hair. I mean no criticism, but it's grown so long that it partially obscures your face, and we can't have that here." I self-consciously put my hand to my head, then looked at Norae's short, gold-brown hair, deciding I wouldn't mind having my own hair cut like that.

Norae led me down a few more halls and to another door (How would I ever learn my away around this place?) and knocked. A girl about my age and height answered.

"Hello, Headteacher Norae," the girl said, smiling pleasantly to reveal large dimples much like my own. "Is there something Tasha or I can help you with?"

"Not me, but our newest student," Norae said, giving me a slight push forward. "This is Bryt Sarliss. Bryt is a missioneer and will need proper clothing for Training. Bryt, this is Cadie, who's been training for about two years now, right?" The girl nodded pleasantly. Norae continued, "After you and Tasha are done with her, take her to Rulla to have her hair cut. Then after dinner, take her to room 127, where we've found a space. Good-bye, now, Bryt, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your first day here." I barely had time to wave before the Headteacher was out the door, off to whatever task next demanded her immediate attention.

"This is exciting!" Cadie declared in such a childish manner that I smiled. "You're just going to love it here. I've never met a missioneer before. What's it like? By the way, this is Tasha, who's in charge of inventory and supplies," she continued, leading me into the cluttered room. "Tasha, this is Bryt, the center's newest student. She's a missioneer."

"Yes, that I can see," the well-fleshed, dark-haired woman about Norae's age said. "You'll have to excuse Cadie. She can be quite long-winded."

Cadie giggled and smiled.

"Let's see about finding you some clothing, now," Tasha said, rising from her seat and leading us toward a corner with items of clothing folded on shelves and in racks. I realized that the room was actually very organized, if crowded.

Tasha and Cadie seemed to thoroughly enjoy choosing clothing for me, and I left with three outfits that could be mixed and matched. All the clothes were used, of course, but certainly nicer than my mission uniforms, which had faded to a dull gray after drying in the sun so often. With the clothing in a leather draw-bag, Cadie led me to the dining hall. I realized I was hungry, especially when I saw the quality of the food served us.

"The head cook here is wonderful," Cadie grinned as we sat down with some friends of hers for the meal. "We're all grateful."

I'd expected to be left out of the conversation, as, at Mission Training, had always been traditional for someone new. I was surprised when all four girls and the one boy readily welcomed and included me. They were all fascinated by my missioneership, and asked lots of questions about it, especially the boy, who'd been mission training when told to come here.

When mealtime was over, Cadie led me away from the dining hall toward the sleeping rooms. We stopped at the one labeled "127."

"Let's just drop off your clothes and backpack here now," she said. "This is the room you'll stay in. You'll meet your roommate tonight, I guess."

I'd barely had a chance to see the room before she closed the door and pulled me away again. I'd gotten so used to carrying my pack that it felt odd not having it on my back. This time we stopped in front of room 84. Cadie knocked on the door, and opened it when there was no answer.

"Rulla!" she scolded, seeing a girl sprawled out across one of the beds in the room.

"Cadie!" Rulla responded, lifting her head from the pillow. Rulla was tall and very thin, with short black hair and skin as pale as paper. "You know I always nap after dinner. What do you want now?"

"Sorry, Rul, but your fascinating nightlife will have to be put on hold for a night. I need you to do a haircut." Cadie was in no way turned aside by Rulla's temper.

"I just cut your hair a week ago!" Rulla was obviously exasperated. Noticing the way Cadie's dirty-blond hair hung perfectly past her chin, I decided Rulla must have decent skills as a haircutter, if not the most pleasant attitude about it.

"Not for me." Cadie laughed. "This is Bryt, the newest student here. She's a missioneer."

"Already? Well, fine. Let me get my stuff together." Rulla got up, gathered a few things in a basket, and led us out of her sleeping room to a washroom. Cadie sat and watched while Rulla ordered me to sit on a stool in front of a washbasin, and wet my hair and washed it with soap, a high quality one from the feel of it. Then she began trimming away with double-bladed scissors. She seemed to be cutting off an awful lot of hair. When she finally allowed me to put my hand to my head, my hair felt no longer than a schoolboy's. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was shocked. My hair was barely a centimeter long in some places � practically all gone!

"You�you made me look like a boy," I quietly accused, not caring about my tactlessness.

Rulla just shrugged. "You already looked like a boy."

I was indignant, but didn't say anything. Cadie broke in to keep the peace. "It's okay, Bryt � your hair looks good real short. You'll get used to it."

Rulla had left the washroom, and I was busily studying the other changes in myself in the mirror. My skin was darker with suntan than it had been when I'd begun my mission; my whole body was thinner, but stronger, from a diet of dried rations and slimeberries accompanied by days of marching; and I saw the beginnings of a strange, dark look to my brown eyes that somehow reminded me of Tuck. I liked it, though it frightened me a little.

"Ready to go meet your roommate?" Cadie asked, snapping me away from my transfixed gaze. "Arilla should probably be back in her room by now, and wondering who her new roommate is."

So I followed Cadie again back to room 127. This time the door was answered when Cadie knocked. The first thing that struck me about my new roommate was her appearance. She was tall and beautiful, with blond hair straight down her back, deep blue eyes, red lips, and a perfect smile. Though I was a little intimidated, especially with my face bare to the world, I smiled back.

"Bryt, this is Arilla. Arilla, Bryt. You two are roommates now," Cadie introduced us.

"Oh, how wonderful! Welcome, by the way," Arilla said, taking my hand. "I've been so lonely. Are you new here?"

Then Cadie left us to get to know each other, and so ended my first day at the Pathic Training school.