Killing Strangers


      The first time Schuldig files a request to be paired with Crawford, the Headmaster is flabbergasted. Not that Schuldig asked—the staff know by now to take their students' preferences into account when drafting team assignments. Alliances formed for survival in Rosenkreuz can create solid foundations for teams in the field, so Rosenkreuz's students are encouraged to voice their opinions when they're marked for upcoming release. But for Schuldig to request Crawford? That's beyond foolish and completely out of character.

      Schuldig is not the most popular student at Rosenkreuz by far, but his intelligence is not up for debate. He's first in his class by a hefty fraction of a point and has been since he first arrived seven years ago. Seven years is a long time by Rosenkreuz standards, as most psychics graduate in four. That Schuldig's stayed this long is not due to his failures but because he refuses to settle in a single course. Instead he opted to stay and master all of Rosenkreuz's aptitudes. Rosenkreuz allowed it because it gave them more time to study his unique grab-bag of powers. Most psychics have only one gift, and a tiny percentage are born with two. Schuldig, for some reason, has three.

      Seven years here is long enough to know that mental gifts are rarely paired in the field. It's pointless to have two thinkers and no hitters, no matter that a man with Schuldig's speed and aim could shoot the wings off a fly. Schuldig is primarily a telepath, so he should be looking at one of the telekinetics, or perhaps a pyrokinetic, or any one of the three-dozen psychics he's paired with through the years. As far as the Headmaster knows, Schuldig's never even looked twice at Crawford, and he confirms it with a quick query into Schuldig's file. Their names aren't linked anywhere in the system.

      It's confusing, but it's not something to stop his day over. The Headmaster stamps Rejected across the top of the page, scribbles some suggestions at the bottom, and sets it with the rest of the completed files for his secretary to distribute later.

.

      The next day Schuldig takes one of his recommended future partners out on a test run, tagging along with the third-years in their guerrilla warfare simulation. The Headmaster is notified when the class departs, and he nods with some satisfaction at Schuldig's choice. Marcus is young and short-ranged, but he is meticulous in the way only the truly cruel can be. The Headmaster has seen photos of his work. Medical examiners couldn't dissect a body better.

      What Marcus isn't good at, it turns out, is dodging. When the class returns to campus Marcus is among the casualties, his left ankle and foot a spongy mess. Consequence of another telekinetic blowing up the wall he was staking out, the report says. It's terrible timing—Rosenkreuz is lending influence to the Middle East conflicts and both of their on-campus Doctors are away to assist with a particularly nasty operation. It'll take a week to extract one of them, and who knows how much longer until Marcus is walking properly again.

      The Headmaster signs and dates the report, sets it aside, and continues through his mail. At the bottom of the stack are two more student requests. He expected the amended one from Clarissa, considering this morning's rumors that her current girlfriend attacked her on the shooting range last night. He sets it aside as pending, because he's been in this job long enough to know how fickle and irritating teenage hormones are. Beneath it is one that gives him pause for just a moment. It's from Crawford, requesting to be paired with Schuldig.

      It gets a swift Rejected and is tossed in with the rest of his outbound mail.

.

      The next morning Crawford is seen talking to a petite blonde over breakfast. The Headmaster frowns into his coffee, already envisioning a red stamp across the top of Crawford's next request. It's not a matter of power, as they're both in the top five of their respective talents, but the two are as arrogant as they are strong. Arrogance is encouraged here, but it must be tempered with self-control. These two would be locked in an eternal power play, neither one willing or able to follow the other's lead. Crawford has to know that, has to see that, but he chats her up like they haven't spent the last five months giving each other snide side-eyes.

      But then Tiffani is shrieking and leaping up from her chair. She lashes out at the air in front of her. Help is one of the first words Rosenkreuz beats out of its students, because they have to learn early that no one here is going to help them, but she's saying it over and over in an endless, ragged screech. Crawford swats at the air in front of her, then flinches back a little to defend his own face. By the time the Headmaster and two other teachers make it to them, Tiffani is dead on the floor.

      Crawford is interrogated for two hours by seven different instructors, but his impossible story stays the same: Tiffani was stung by a bee. A bee! the Headmaster thinks, watching as one of the nurses slaps antibiotics on Crawford's new injuries. It is impossible, unthinkable. Rosenkreuz is two stories below ground, with layers upon layers of security and a half-dozen doors between them and ground level. A bee could not have made it down here, but one did, and now the third-best electrokinetic in Rosenkreuz's halls is dead.

      Rosenkreuz has known since day one that Tiffani is fatally allergic to bees, just as they know that six students are lactose-intolerant and ten are varying shades of allergic to peanuts. Ninety percent of the student body have allergies to something or another. But instead of simply stocking epinephrine and benadryl, the school created a sterile environment and removed ninety-nine percent of all documented allergens. In hindsight, a terrible decision.

      That a bee made it into Rosenkreuz—and straight to the person who was most allergic—is more than a little suspicious, but Crawford maintained ignorance through all seven of his tormentors. The Headmaster believes his innocence—he handpicked the interrogation team and he knows how thorough they are. That leaves one other obvious suspect, and the Headmaster is annoyed by that sour curl of disappointment in his gut. Schuldig was out in the field just yesterday. It's farfetched beyond reason that he spared a moment during a war simulation to catch a bee of all things, but it's more impossible to think Tiffani was stung by chance.

      It's Schuldig's turn with the interrogators, but the Headmaster does not need to witness it. He will have a report on his desk as soon as it is through. Besides, he is more interested in what will happen when Schuldig is dragged down here afterward. The nurses know better than to release Crawford before then; the Headmaster wants to see what happens when they're in the same room. Crawford's suffered greatly because of Schuldig, and the Headmaster's read plenty of reports about what happens to classmates who try to cross Crawford.

      He has time to check in on the sanitation team, who confirm they've cleared the entire building and found no other bugs, and the security patrol, who promise they've rechecked every nook and cranny for holes. He should be satisfied by their reports, but there goes that sick heat in his stomach again.

      Unsanctioned murders are forbidden on Rosenkreuz grounds due to how much time and money goes into each psychic's training. Schuldig knows better than anyone what happens when that rule is broken, considering the last person who snapped and killed a classmate was his best friend. Schuldig's role in apprehending Rayyan is why he dropped his birth name in favor of "Schuldig"; as far as the Headmaster knows no one has trusted Schuldig since.

      Rosenkreuz made all students attend the execution, and it was a drawn-out and grotesque affair. How Schuldig could witness that spectacle and still break the golden rule a few years later, the Headmaster doesn't know, but it's infuriating. What a waste of talent—what a waste of power!

      He reclaims his spot outside the medical ward, staring through the one-way mirror at Crawford's dozing form, and contemplates who to assign to Schuldig's execution. He's almost settled on letting the other graduates have their way with him when the empath charged with both interrogations joins him. The Headmaster takes one look at her face and forgets what he was thinking.

      "We're declaring them both innocent," the empath says before the Headmaster can ask.

      The Headmaster can only stare. "You're sure."

      She looks offended by his incredulity. "You've never doubted me before."

      It's ridiculous to think Tiffani really was stung by chance, but Marion has a point. He knows her power—knows her—too well to think she could be wrong about something so important. He gave her control of the school's interrogations twelve years ago because he knows what she is capable of. She won't sign off on anyone until she is completely convinced of the truth, and she is one of the most skeptical people he's had the misfortune of meeting.

      "Understood," he says, but he isn't sure what to think or feel about this. Relief would be appropriate, since it means he won't have to execute their valedictorian, but he is more confused than anything.

      She looks over her shoulder as two of her teammates drag Schuldig's limp body down the hall. The door opens with a motion sensor to let the three into the medical ward, and Schuldig is hoisted onto the spare bed at Crawford's left. The noise is enough to wake Crawford, and he watches as the interrogators leave and the nurse gets to work. The vitriol the Headmaster has been waiting for makes no appearance; Crawford's expression remains calm as he studies Schuldig's wretched state. If Schuldig notices the attention, he gives no sign of it, and the nurse bandages him up with silent efficiency. As soon as she is done she vacates the room, leaving the two alone.

      It takes a few minutes, and then Schuldig cracks open one blackened eye to consider Crawford. Recognition is slow to sink in, but when it does Schuldig gives a weak laugh. Pain makes his movements sluggish when he eases into a cross-legged position on his mattress. His mouth curves in a too-wide, toothy grin that pulls at his bruised cheeks and makes him wince. His attitude is entirely too flippant considering what they've both just been through, but Crawford doesn't seem at all surprised by Schuldig's good mood. Instead he gingerly pushes himself up and mirrors Schuldig's pose.

      "Crawford," Schuldig says, enunciating it like it's the first time he's shaping his mouth around the name. "You look like shit."

      "I feel like shit," is Crawford's mild response.

      Schuldig smiles again, slow and small but so self-satisfied the Headmaster knows they've missed something. He glances at Marion, wondering if she sees it, and of course she does. Her eyes are narrowed as she focuses on what her gift is telling her, and the frown that briefly tugs at the corner of her mouth is disgruntled.

      "Problem?" the Headmaster asks, because he won't ask her outright if she was wrong.

      "They've never spoken to each other," Marion says without looking away from them. He watches her critical stare track from one face to the other and back again. "They confirmed your reports in their questioning: they've never taken the same courses or been housed in the same wing. And yet—" She tilts her head to one side as if that will somehow make them an easier read. "—they're lovers."

      The Headmaster looks back at them, two young men who've never been within fifty feet of each other as far as all of Rosenkreuz's staff is aware but who are somehow so intimate with each other. They're done speaking, it seems, and are studying each other in silence. Schuldig's smile doesn't fade, and Crawford's expression doesn't change, no matter that the Headmaster watches them for another half-hour. At last he dismisses Marion, summons the nurse to resume her watch over them, and returns to his office.

      He is expecting Marion's report on his desk, turned in by one of her teammates while she was waiting at his side. He's even half-expecting the request right under it in the stack: Schuldig has initiated an appeal and requested reconsideration of Crawford as his field partner. The Headmaster hesitates over the latter for a minute before stamping it Rejected – not once, but twice. He knows as he does so that this isn't the last he'll hear from them, but given Marion's new insight into their supposed relationship, he wants to see how hard they'll push.

.

      For the next three weeks, the staff watch Schuldig and Crawford with both their eyes and their gifts. The Headmaster doesn't tell them what to look for so as not to taint their observations, but his discretion is wasted and each day wears his patience a little thinner until that crackling rage in his chest is almost admiration. For three weeks, Schuldig and Crawford stay away from each other. The closest they get is between classes, when they take stairwells at opposite ends of the hall. They don't even have meals together, as Schuldig is a seventh-year and Crawford a fourth-year. Tomorrow that will change, because tonight the graduating psychics are being moved to the Moscow campus for their final semester.

      For three weeks, Crawford and Schuldig have alternated turning in requests to be paired together, undeterred by how often the Headmaster rejects them. For three weeks, Crawford and Schuldig have done as they were asked and courted other options. They've tried, anyway—after four more terrible accidents and another death that first week, no one else is willing to be wooed. Crawford's power and Schuldig's rank mean nothing next to one's own survival, and teachers file report after report of the growing unease and tension in their classes.

      Everyone in Rosenkreuz knows Schuldig and Crawford are manufacturing these accidents, but no one can pinpoint how. Marion pushes harder every time she's given a shot at them, needing the truth, needing to believe her gift is infallible. They scream and bleed and beg and fight, but their excuses and alibis remain unchanging: they are innocent, they were elsewhere, it was chance, they don't know.

      The why is easier than the how, and a part of the Headmaster wants to refuse it out of sheer spite. Giving them to each other means they've won, means they've gotten away with more than Rosenkreuz can forgive and beaten all of their instructors. It's unconscionable. But despite himself and his common sense, the Headmaster is starting to like them. That they've gone to such lengths to alienate every other partner is commendable, and the fact that they've pulled it off so flawlessly speaks worlds for what they'll be capable of on the field. Fatal attraction indeed.

      He turns their latest request over and over on his desk as he thinks, mindful of the way his guest is watching him. Sergio Rodriguez is a telepath, one of only three registered in Rosenkreuz's systems. The Headmaster can't remember the last time two telepaths were on Rosenkreuz property at the same time. Every file he's ever read on their ilk say it's best to keep them as far apart as possible due to the nature of their gifts. This is a necessary risk, he knows, so at last he has his secretary summon Schuldig.

      It doesn't take long; Schuldig is the fastest person on the campus when he wants to be and he is at the Headmaster's door only seconds after the secretary's made the announcement over the broadcast system. He waits in the doorway, knowing better than to enter without permission, and doesn't spare a glance for the stranger in the Headmaster's office. "You called for me, Headmaster."

      The Headmaster beckons, and Schuldig moves to stand in front of the desk. Sergio pushes off of the wall he was leaning against and comes up behind Schuldig, stopping so close they might be touching. Schuldig sends a hooded look over his shoulder but doesn't otherwise react—his gift might tell him what Sergio is, but it can't warn him how much Sergio outranks him. Schuldig didn't get this far by offending those in power.

      Sergio presses two fingers to Schuldig's temple. "That's interesting," he says, and there is a short twitch at the corner of Schuldig's mouth. At the touch, perhaps, or at whatever Sergio is doing with his gift. "At first glance I'd call it insanity, but it if truly was, Rosenkreuz would have picked up on it years ago and terminated you. Our power is precious but not priceless, and they would not put the rest of us at risk. That's not an internal fracture, is it? You invited that madness upon yourself. Explain."

      Schuldig glances at the Headmaster, who motions for him to answer, and says in a low but hard voice, "I am not crazy."

      "That is not what I was asking," Sergio says.

      "I misunderstood," Schuldig says. "I am not used to asking; I have been trained to take."

      It is not an apology, judging by the cold look that crosses Sergio's face. The Headmaster doesn't have to wonder, because Sergio slides a tense explanation across the space between their minds: His mind is unintelligible—it is a murmured conversation when there should be only one clear voice. There are spiderwebs where shields should be. It is unnatural and unprecedented.

      Impenetrable? the Headmaster thinks.

      Unlikely, Sergio says, and the Headmaster doesn't think he's imagining that sour tone. But it feels—dangerous, like a trap. If I press too far, I might not make it back out again. Would you have me try regardless?

      The Headmaster considers it for a moment, then gives a slight shake of his head and says, "He asked you for an explanation, Schuldig. You will answer him."

      Schuldig obediently says, "No, it is not an internal fracture."

      Sergio rewords his question and tries again: "How many people are in your head?"

      Schuldig holds the Headmaster's gaze when he answers, "Two."

      The Headmaster considers this for a minute, then says to Sergio, "The other would be a fourth-year precognitive with whom he is determined to be paired post-graduation. I have not yet decided whether I can condone such an arrangement. If I asked you to, could you untangle them?"

      He knows already what Sergio's answer will be. If Sergio is too afraid to brave those strange shields just to see who else is renting space in Schuldig's head, then there is no way Sergio will be able to pry them apart. But he asks anyway, partly for posterity and partly to see if Schuldig will react to the threat. Schuldig doesn't so much as twitch. Arrogance, perhaps—Schuldig's sly remark earlier means he knows Sergio can't read his mind—or perhaps that quiet confidence is consequence of being bound to a precognitive.

      Sergio is quiet for a minute, weighing the mess his gift is showing him, and finally says, "Unlikely. They are indistinguishable by now. How long ago did you let him in, you suicidal fool?"

      "Three years," Schuldig says, watching the Headmaster as he answers, "four months, two weeks, five days." Sergio makes a derisive sound, mocking that specificity. Schuldig's mouth twitches a little in annoyance but he keeps his tone even and his eyes on the Headmaster. "He said he came to Rosenkreuz for me. He followed his visions to the scouting patrol in New Orleans and let them bring him here."

      "So you pulled him into your mind?" Sergio asks.

      There's more mockery in that accusation than incredulity, but Schuldig lifts his chin in defiance and says, "Yes."

      "Yet you spoke to him in person for the first time three weeks ago," the Headmaster says.

      "Yes, Headmaster," Schuldig says.

      "I maintain that he is insane," Sergio says.

      "I am not," Schuldig shoots back with a little too much heat. "He—"

      He cuts himself off, but it's too late. Two heavy stares watch him, silently demanding he finish what he started. Schuldig stares at the Headmaster's desk like it has all the answers, jaw working a little, but he knows better than to delay too long. He doesn't look up when he speaks again, and his voice is a little too flat when he says, "He's the only reason I'm still sane."

      "Elaborate," the Headmaster says.

      "The Headmaster remembers Rayyan," Schuldig says, not quite a question.

      It's been years since the Headmaster heard that name aloud; no one dares speak it lest they bring the teachers' wrath down on them. The Headmaster can feel Sergio's curious gaze, but he doesn't look up from Schuldig's bowed head as he explains.

      "Rayyan was an astral traveler we took in about four years ago. He was critically injured in his first field exercise. He woke up quadriplegic," the Headmaster says, "and did not take it well. He retaliated and killed the telekinetic classmate who threw him from the building."

      "He ousted Lachelle from her own head," Schuldig says. Both men look to him again, but Schuldig is obviously years away from this office and their questions. The sick look on his face might be him reliving Rayyan's execution, but the Headmaster thinks it's something different. He watches the way Schuldig traces his own cheekbone with an unsteady hand, the way he digs his fingernails into his temple like he's trying to carve into his own skull, and has his suspicions confirmed when Schuldig forces out the rest of his story.

      "I tried to stop him before he could erase her," Schuldig says. "I knew I was stronger than he was. I didn't think about the difference in our shields. He blew mine apart when he fought back, and I couldn't put them back together again. I tried and failed for weeks. I even tried crafting new ones, but the foundations were gone and I couldn't make anything stick."

      Schuldig finally looks up again. "Crawford came to Rosenkreuz because I am his future, but he came when he did because he knew he was losing me. He was enrolled the day after Rayyan was executed, and without my shields in the way he was free to broadcast his thoughts across the school at me. We argued for three weeks because I didn't want a stranger in my head, but he wouldn't let it go. He showed me what his gift promised him, what we stood to become together, and I finally let him in. Putting a bond up between us meant I could rely on his shields instead of my own."

      "You never reported the bond to your instructors," the Headmaster says.

      Schuldig has the gall to look confused. "They never asked, Headmaster."

      He says it seriously, but the remark itself rankles, and the Headmaster gestures for the door. "For now, you are dismissed," he says, and he waits until Schuldig leaves before having his secretary send for Crawford. It will take a few minutes for Crawford to get out of class and make it here, so the Headmaster looks to Sergio. "Potential benefits to such a bond?"

      Sergio grimaces displeasure but ticks the high points off on his fingers. "That wrapped up in each other, they practically have equal rights to each other's powers. They won't have to debate strategies when they can hear each other think. They can still stand each other after three-plus years in each other's heads, so they're likely to be the most stable and efficient pair you put into the field."

      "Downsides?" the Headmaster asks.

      "I've never seen a bond like that," Sergio says. "I don't know what to tell you to expect, but I don't like that two of your strongest students are so shielded from us. It could be a problem. It already is a problem," he corrects himself, with a slanted look at the Headmaster, "if you brought me here to look into it. What have they done?"

      "They have lied to all of us," the Headmaster says, "and none of us knows how many times. Explain this to me, telepath. Schuldig claims he has had Crawford in his head for three years and that Crawford is dedicated to the future they have together. So why have they gone out of their way to avoid being seen together? You heard Schuldig confirm it only a few minutes ago: they spoke for the first time just three weeks ago. Until Schuldig submitted his first request to be paired with Crawford, I did not believe they even knew one another."

      There are only two papers on the Headmaster's desk: Crawford's latest request to be paired with Schuldig, and a sheet with the dates and names of every student the two have hurt this last month. The latter is facedown, but the Headmaster flips it over and slides it toward Sergio. Sergio picks it up and reads in silence. His frown deepens the further down the page he gets, but the Headmaster doesn't speak until he's looked up again.

      "These," he points to the paper in Sergio's hand, "were the psychics Rosenkreuz recommended to Crawford and Schuldig in lieu of approving Schuldig's request. Were," he says again for emphasis, "until they were systematically taken out of the running of eligible graduates."

      Sergio stares at him, aghast. "If you think they're behind this—"

      "They've been cleared of every charge," the Headmaster interrupts him. "My best empath saw to each session personally, and she is still convinced of their innocence because they are convinced of their innocence."

      "But you think they're guilty," Sergio concludes, with another glance down at the paper.

      "Could a bond protect them from an empath's power?"

      Sergio sets the paper down. "Unknown," he says, but the look the Headmaster gives him warns him how unacceptable such a response is. Sergio tips his head to one side as he thinks. "Theoretically, it's possible—anyone can deceive himself if it's in his own best interest, and a telepath knows better than anyone how to manipulate a man's thoughts. But to face down an interrogation squad would either require a healthy bit of rewriting or—" Sergio trails off and folds his arms over his chest.

      It takes him a little while to gather his thoughts, and then Sergio says, "Schuldig and Crawford exist in three places: their own heads, each other's heads, and the space in-between where the bond is an invisible link. If they found a way to push the truth out to here..." He jerks his finger away from his forehead to the space in front of his face. "Together they know the truth, and separate they know only part of it."

      Maybe it makes sense; the Headmaster thinks he understands in one breath and is completely turned around in the next. He turns it over and over, watching the truth slide in and out of focus, and gets a headache for his troubles. In the end, maybe the how doesn't matter after all. Even if Sergio can explain how Schuldig and Crawford are getting away with murder, there is too much to this story that they will never know—like how long ago Schuldig and Crawford realized they were willing to kill for one another, or even how much of Schuldig's confession is actually truth. There were no other telepaths around back then, after all, to see what was going on in Schuldig's head the day Rayyan died.

      "They are dangerous," the Headmaster says.

      "What will you do?" Sergio asks.

      It doesn't take much thought. The Headmaster pulls Crawford's request closer and stamps Approved along the bottom. Sergio sucks in a quiet breath, either disbelief or disapproval, but says nothing. The Headmaster doesn't need to explain himself to anyone, but he says, "I'm going to let this play out as long as they can run with it. They think they're puppeteers; eventually they'll get caught in their own strings."

      "It is your call," Sergio says.

      The Headmaster only nods and dismisses him. His secretary will arrange a ride back to the airport. The Headmaster sits alone in his office for another minute before Crawford is shown in. Crawford follows the Headmaster's summons to stand at the desk. The Headmaster holds out his paper request but doesn't let go when Crawford tries to take it from him. Crawford meets his stare without hesitation. For a moment his eyes are honey-gold; for a moment they're twilight-blue. The Headmaster looks into Crawford's eyes knowing it's not just Crawford looking out, and says,

      "If you make us regret this, I will have you both terminated."

      Crawford's rote response is calm: "My life and death for Rosenkreuz."

      "Do not lie to me," the Headmaster says. "It has been Rosenkreuz's life and death for him."

      Crawford does not look surprised by that accusation, nor does he look concerned. Crawford couldn't care less what Rosenkreuz thinks or knows—he has won this round, and he has every intention of winning every round after. The Headmaster sees that in the bland look on his face, in the faint twitch at his mouth that doesn't quite dare curve into a cold smile, and for a moment he considers terminating them both just because he can. But he's made his decision, so at last he lets go of Crawford's long-awaited paperwork.

      "With all due respect, most of what Schuldig told you was the truth," Crawford says. "I think he wants you to figure it out."

      The Headmaster is tired of him, tired of this, so only says, "The shuttle will be here in an hour."

      Crawford takes the dismissal at face value and leaves, and the Headmaster is left alone with his unanswered questions. At last he puts the two from mind, because they are not his students anymore, and he will never see them again.

.

      It is a year before he thinks of them again, when he is putting away files for the newest group of students and has to squeeze a Raul between Randy and Rayyan. He has a corner of the folder squeezed in when he notices the second name, and he sets Raul's paperwork aside. Rayyan's file is considerably smaller than most others on account of his short tenure at Rosenkreuz, but the Headmaster flips through it with idle interest. There is nothing there he hasn't seen before, and even the notes regarding his execution give no new light on the strange pair the Headmaster dismissed a year ago. It isn't until he is putting it away again that he hesitates, and he goes back to the first tab. In the bottom right-hand corner is Rayyan's designated batch number. Wave 36NA was the group brought from North America five years ago. The last member of 36NA graduated a year ago.

      The Headmaster sets Rayyan's file on his desk and collects Crawford's file from his second filing cabinet. 36NA, Crawford's profile says, which means Crawford and Rayyan were recruited together. He studies their files side by side, looking for the truth, bothered by a thought that lingers just out of reach. The suspicion follows him to his next meeting and back again, and he is two steps into his office when it clicks. Schuldig said Crawford came to Rosenkreuz only after Rayyan was executed.

      He gets Schuldig's file at last and lays it out on top of the rest, the thickest file of any student's due to Schuldig's tenure and powers. It's Schuldig's powers he is looking for now. Although he knows the three by heart he needs to see the words in black and white on Schuldig's profile: "Telepathy, supersonic speed, astral traveling."

      His head is pounding as he sinks into his chair. He stares at Schuldig's file and through it, watching the pieces come together at long last and knowing it is far too late to do anything about it. Triumph is tempered by exhaustion and irritation is smoothed by grudging respect. He is almost tempted to call Sergio Rodriguez, but he dismisses that thought immediately. Once he acknowledges the truth, he will be required to act on it.

      The truth, he thinks, and he remembers Crawford's promise that most of Schuldig's story was in fact the truth. He digs through his memory, separating fact from fiction until there are only a few pieces missing. There are only three people in the world he can speak to about this, so he picks up his phone and lets his secretary route him to the Asian Pacific head office. Team's phone numbers are never kept on file, but each branch has a keycode, so after bouncing from the embassy to the consulate and through two branches, the Headmaster has finally reached Crawford's cell phone in Bangkok.

      Crawford answers on the third ring, sounding half-asleep. "Do you know what time it is?"

      The Headmaster can't remember the time difference, but it's something like six or seven hours. It's the middle of the night in Thailand and he's woken Crawford up. He can't find it in him to care, and only says, "Put Rayyan on the phone."

      There's a quiet rumble in the background, and Crawford's voice gets a little further away as he answers, "Austria. It's for you."

      There's a distinct groan, and then Schuldig's voice is slurring a tired, "'llo?" in his ear.

      "Who was in your body when we executed you?" the Headmaster asks without preamble. "Tyler or Lachelle?"

      The short pause that follows does wonders to ease his headache, and there at last is the violent heat of satisfaction. The Headmaster closes his eyes and imagines Schuldig looking to Crawford for answers or an explanation. If Crawford has anything to say about this, it's between their minds where the Headmaster can't hear it. Schuldig sounds wide awake when he comes back on the line, and the Headmaster can hear the sharp smile in his words.

      "Is that a real question?"

      A year ago Schuldig admitted there were two people in his head, and the Headmaster incorrectly assumed Crawford was the second. Now he knows better, so he says, "You didn't oust Lachelle from her body—you pulled her into yours and let us execute her for a murder that hadn't happened."

      "She deserved it," the men known as Schuldig answer. It's his imagination, he knows, but for a moment the Headmaster thinks he hears both Tyler and Rayyan in Schuldig's voice. "Do you know why she threw me from the building, Headmaster? She finally found out why Crawford wouldn't give her the time of day. She tried to kill me—she paralyzed me—because Crawford was too busy fucking me to fall into her mediocre cleavage."

      The Headmaster remembers every second of Rayyan's execution. He remembers Rayyan screaming and fighting back against his tormentors while the white-faced student body watched; he remembers now that Rayyan never once said anything intelligible. It was all just noise, like Rayyan couldn't find the words to beg forgiveness for his crime. The Headmaster wonders now if that was Tyler's doing—he knows telepaths can force people to say what they want; keeping them from saying anything at all is only a half-step up from there.

      "Her cleavage wasn't that bad," Schuldig says, and although the Headmaster's already put two-and-two together, that mild protest sends a chill down his spine. Tyler has joined the conversation, temporarily unseating Rayyan's control over their shared body. Schuldig laughs again, and for a dizzying moment the Headmaster thinks Schuldig can somehow sense his unease. But the muffled sound to Schuldig's voice means he's moved the phone away to talk to Crawford. "Fix your face before it sticks like that, Crawford."

      The Headmaster gets his attention back with another question: "When I refused to assign you to each other, did Rayyan orchestrate the murders and accidents?"

      "Close," Schuldig says, sounding almost appreciative. "That was my doing. Rayyan stepped over to Crawford's head while I worked so he wouldn't know what was happening. Wouldn't work in the reverse, right? The telepathy is mine. What they know, I know, but not vice versa."

      Sergio almost had it right when he guessed at how they avoided detection: "Together they know the truth, and separate they know only part of it."

      "Anything else, or can we get back to sleep now?" Schuldig asks.

      There are a hundred things he could ask now that he knows the truth, but the Headmaster flips Schuldig's file closed. "I have nothing else."

      "Goodbye then, Headmaster," Schuldig says, and hangs up.

      It isn't closure, but it's close enough. The Headmaster staples their files closed before putting them away for good.


END
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