kill me.”
Casey slipped a small paper envelope from his jacket onto the table by Damien. “The Cap’n wanted to give you a little something for your help with the ward,” he told him. “’e sent me after you to hand it over. I, um,” he gave a sideways glance at the Security Captain, “pinged your PC for your location… and hurried when I saw where you were.”
Harrison was studiously looking at Damien’s medical monitor, pretending she hadn’t heard the spacer confess to a minor crime. Personal Computers were keyed to a user and contained all of their personal information – accessing one without permission was considered a form of personal assault.
After a moment, the Captain turned her eyes back to Damien and tapped her own PC.
“I need you to give me a recorded witness statement,” she told him. “After that, I shouldn’t need to call you in for anything, but we’ll hold onto your contact information in case. Is that acceptable?”
Damien nodded, and Harrison pressed a button on the computer. “All right, let’s get started.”
#
It didn’t take very long for Damien to give as complete a description as he remembered of the incident. Some of his memories were clouded from being choked into unconsciousness, but at least the start of the encounter was clear.
“One last question for the record,” Harrison finally told him. “How many spells do you know that would have killed Kendall?”
Damien blinked, confused. “Sorry?”
“I’m aware of at least some of the spells taught in the self-defense portion of the Practical Thaumaturgy curriculum,” she said. “Your response was non-lethal, but you were capable of a lethal response – correct?”
Damien thought about it. He’d learned self-defense spells around various forms of energy manipulation – heat, cold, electricity. Even the straight force spell he’d used could have been more deadly if directed at, say, Kendall’s neck.
“At least five,” he finally answered quietly. “At most basic, a fire spell would have inflicted significant third degree burns if not killed him.”
“Thank you,” Harrison said, turning off her PC. “That will be sufficient for the courts I think.” She was shaking her head slightly.
“What?” he asked.
“I think you are the first Mage I’ve ever met to default to a non-lethal level of force when threatened,” she told him. “Most Mages go straight for fire or lightning – we spend a good part of the training for the System Security Mages teaching them to use a targeted level of force.”
“I thought I could scare them off,” Damien admitted. “I was wrong.”
“That wasn’t your mistake,” Harrison told him. “Your mistake was not escalating as soon as you realized you couldn’t. Training can fix that – have you ever considered joining the SSS?”
“I’m trained to be a Jump Mage,” Damien answered. “That’s what I’m going to be – as soon as I find a ship.”
The Security Captain looked like she had swallowed something sour.
“Every Mage wants to Jump,” she told him. “There are what, ten thousand Mages in Sherwood? Out of two billion people – ten thousand Mages. Everyone, from System Security to the Ship-wrights, to the damned power company, needs Mages. They’re desperate for anyone who can cast a spell – and you are sitting up on this station, doing nothing , complaining that you can’t find a place on a starship?”
Damien touched the collar he wore – the product of years of study and training so that he could Jump. Getting into Jump training wasn’t easy, for the exact reasons that Harrison had just thrown at him.
“I earned the right to Jump,” he told the cop. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t give up on that just yet.”
Harrison took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “It’s frustrating trying to recruit Mages, and watching there be not enough Mages for anything except Jumping – and too many Jump Mages. Just…