by R S Penney
“Now!” she said.
Jena got to her feet and strode around the front end of the car she had been using for cover, a strange calmness coming over her as the cogs of the machine she had created all sprang into motion. This would be over in seconds.
Drawing aside her trench coat, Jena pulled a pistol from the holster on her hip and tapped a button on the back to power it up. Standard ammunition would do. She lifted the weapon in both hands.
The van was speeding away from her.
She fired.
One of the van's tires popped with a hissing sound, and the vehicle wobbled as the driver tried to regain control. It did no good. The van turned sideways – now blocking traffic in all directions – and came to a stop perhaps twenty paces away.
The driver's side was toward her, but she heard the distinct sound of a door sliding open and boots landing hard upon the pavement with eager footsteps. One man in black tactical gear poked his helmeted head around the back-end of the van.
Half a second later, men with assault rifles came around both ends, forming a line and lifting their weapons to point at Jena. All except the one in the middle. He carried a shotgun that he pumped.
Jena thrust a hand out, twisting space-time with the aid of her Nassai. The five men blurred into a streak of darkness just before a storm of bullets and buck-shot came at her. Each projectile flowed around her body in a convex pattern, zipping off into the distance behind her. That did nothing to soothe her anger. These murderous bastards fired without even bothering to identify their target! Worse yet, she couldn't stay here.
Jena winced, tears leaking from her eyes.
The barrage of gunfire continued without a moment's pause, and she was already beginning to feel a tingle in her skin. Soon it would become stinging pain. She had to get out of the line of fire. Now!
Creating a Bending was hard enough, but moving that Bending once you had set it in place? That was twice as difficult. Jena kept her “shield” up as she ran for the sidewalk opposite the car that she had been hiding behind.
The small Italian restaurant had a large front window that looked in on an empty room filled with wooden tables and chairs. The lights were out. So far as she could tell, the place was deserted.
It would do.
Jena hurled herself shoulder-first through the window, allowing her Bending to collapse as glass rained down around her. She landed hard on the wooden floor and then rolled onto her back.
Bullets zipped through the air above her with sharp whistling sounds, striking the back wall of the restaurant and tearing the plaster to shreds. Less than ten seconds, and the place was already a wreck.
The gunfire stopped.
Jena stayed low, out of their line of sight. Her skin was already burning with sharp, fiery pinpricks, and there was no way she could fend off that much ammunition without another Bending. Had she been alone, she would have died miserably. Even Keepers had their limits.
Staying flat on her back meant the men wouldn't be able to see her as they slowly approached to finish the job, but it also meant she wouldn't be able to track them. Not even with her Nassai's spatial awareness. Fortunately, she had other options.
On her screen – the metal disk was still sitting undisturbed on the hood of the car she had used for cover – she saw the backs of five men in black body armour creeping slowly across the street with their weapons raised. Soon, they would be close enough to look through the shattered window and find her here.
Come on, people, Jena thought. Don't leave me hanging.
Suddenly, the men lifted their weapons to point at the sky and let loose with a storm of gunfire, barrels flashing and filling the air with a thunderous roar. This would be one of Raynar's telepathic manipulations.
One of the men spasmed as a stun-round hit the back of his neck, flailing about and dropping his rifle as he fell to his knees. Before anyone could react, a second round took the man next to him.
The other three spun around to face the camera and fired at something out of frame. The one in the middle pumped his shot-gun once before a bullet from Aamani's rifle hit him square in his throat and bounced off. Electric current knocked him out. Three down and two to go!
Lying stretched out on the floor, Jena lifted her pistol up in front of her face. “Stun rounds,” she growled. The LEDs turned blue with a soft chirp to confirm that her order had been executed.
She sat up.
Through the shattered window, she saw two men standing with their backs turned and firing at the parked cars on the far side of the street. The other three had collapsed to the ground and were now stretched out on the road.
She fired.
A charged bullet hit the one on her left right in the soft spot between his armoured vest and his helmet. He stumbled as the current raced through his body, then dropped to his knees and passed out.
The final man spun around to aim his rifle in her direction. He spasmed before he could put her in his sights and lost his footing. Half a second later, he fell flat on his face in the middle of the road.
When the smoke cleared, she saw that two of the three cars on the other side of the street now had bullet holes in their driver-side doors. Anna's head popped up from behind one of them, and the girl blinked.
Jena shut her eyes tight, trembling as she drew in a ragged breath. “We did it,” she said, getting to her feet and carefully stepping through the shattered window. “First round goes to us, but it only gets a whole lot harder now that we've bloodied Slade's nose.”
Anna came scurrying out from behind the car and quickly turned to sprint toward the abandoned van. In a heartbeat, she was ducking behind it, no doubt poking her head inside to see what she could find. Jena had clicked her tongue in frustration. The girl was far too impulsive for her own good.
For all she knew, there were three more men with military-grade hardware waiting inside. Not that Jena didn't trust the girl to handle herself, but it would have been nice if she didn't insist on taking unnecessary risks.
On the opposite sidewalk, Gabrina got to her feet and reached up to run her fingers through sweat slick hair that clung to her shirt. “We did it,” she agreed, stepping forward and leaning against the side of the car she had been using for cover.
“We hit,” Jena said. “Time to run.”
“Hey, look at this!”
Anna emerged from behind the van with a box that she carried in both hands, a big grin on her face. “So much for the food shortage!” she said, reaching inside to pull out a few meal bars. “They've got a dozen boxes in there!”
“Half goes to the safe house,” Jena barked as she marched into the road. “Distribute the rest to anyone who needs them.”
One of the men was lying face-down on his stomach, groaning in pain. Stun-rounds didn't necessarily knock you unconscious, but they did leave you more or less immobile for the better part of an hour.
Jena nudged him with her foot, rolling him onto his back.
He stared up at her through the visor of his helmet, blinking as if the light hurt his eyes. “Who…” The man tried to sit up, then collapsed to the ground again. “Do you have any idea what you've done?”
Jena was about to reply with a biting comment when she noticed something. His vest had a camera that was pointed up at the clear blue sky. Time to put on a show then. She would be lying if she said she wasn't glad for the opportunity.
She crouched down beside him.
Seizing his vest in both hands, Jena pulled him up just enough to shove her face in the camera. “You watching this, Slade?” she asked. “Did you really think I was just gonna sit on my ass and let you turn this city into your own personal playground? Well, you know where I am, now. Come get me, fucker.”
The fountain in Confederation Park sprayed a stream of white water toward a blue sky with just a few thin clouds. It had been nine months since Jack had last come here, and so much had changed. The ring of trees that encircled the fountain was now green with the vibrant life of
summer.
His last visit had been during a time when the city was in a state of upheaval. Leo had terrorized the people to the point where most of them of them were afraid to leave their homes, and he had come here to give Selena Knowles an interview. At the time, Jack would have called it a low-point. He would not have been able to imagine how things could get worse.
It turned out that Leo's rampage through Ottawa was just the warm up act for the main event. Every part of him itched with a need to hop in a shuttle and join his friends on the streets of New York. But he had other duties.
Jack stood before the fountain with hands clasped behind his back, peering into the water. “You're late,” he said, eyebrows rising. “How are you going to tell Mom that you left your little brother unattended in the park?”
He turned.
His sister Lauren strode toward him in a red sundress with thin straps, her long dark hair tied back in a braid, pulled away from a pale face with sharp blue eyes. It was good to see her; they hadn't spoken much lately.
She stepped up beside him with her arms folded, frowning into the bubbling water. “You realize that you're not one to talk, right?” she asked. “I seem to remember a saying about this. Something about a pot and a kettle.”
He turned back to the fountain.
His faint reflection in the clear water wavered, and he found himself counting the coins down in the basin. “Well, you know me,” Jack muttered. “Never was very good at waiting for anything.”
“Don't I know it?”
Tilting his head back, Jack blinked when the sunlight hit his eyes. “Seems that's all I've been doing lately,” he said, gently kicking the concrete basin. “Waiting for a chance to do something productive.”
A frown tightened Lauren's mouth, and she squinted into the fountain. “Yeah, I was wondering about that,” she replied. “With all the chaos, I figured they'd send you to New York with the other Keepers.”
Baring his teeth, Jack shook his head. “Jena has other plans for me,” he muttered. “Stuff that she wants kept 'Hush to the Power of Hush' or I'd have told you the specifics a long, long time ago.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
Jack turned aside.
He marched across the concrete with his arms folded, smiling down at himself. “It is,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “But as you've reminded me many times, I did choose this life.”
A ring of benches surrounded the fountain, shaded by the branches of the nearest trees. He chose one – the very same bench he had used when speaking with Selena – and sat patiently, taking comfort in Summer's presence.
His sister moseyed over with her arms crossed as well, shaking her head as she drew near. “I've learned not to try talking you out of anything,” she said. “It usually only makes you that much more determined.”
She sat down primly beside him, folding her hands in her lap and staring off into the distance. “So what's on your mind?” she murmured. “And don't give me any of that playing dumb routine. You wouldn't have called if you didn't want to talk.”
Jack winced, letting his head hang. He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed into his palm. “I'm being reassigned,” he answered. “When this crisis is over, I'll be going to Leyria…permanently.”
He'd been putting off this conversation for several days, using his job as an excuse to avoid giving his family news that would almost certainly break their hearts. Well…his mother and sister, anyway. Arthur would take the hit with his usual brand of tight-lipped assholery. Summer offered soothing emotions.
When he looked up, Lauren was watching the fountain with a blank expression, blinking slowly as she thought it over. “How do you feel about that?” she asked at last. “It's a pretty big change.”
Jack felt his brow furrow, then rubbed his forehead with the back of his fist. “I've always wanted to see Leyria,” he said. “And it's not like I can't come back and visit often. You'd be surprised how much vacation time Keepers get.”
“You gonna miss it here?”
“More than you can imagine.”
Thinking about leaving everyone behind – Anna and Harry, his mother and sister – left him with a dull ache in his chest that just wouldn't go away. In fact, he had come to realize that the pain of saying goodbye outshone anything he might have been feeling for Gabi. What did that say about his relationship? Best not to think too deeply on that, he decided. The relationship was dead. No point in poking its corpse.
Jack stretched out with hands folded behind his head, smiling up at the clear blue sky. “It's funny,” he said after a moment. “I spend most of my youth thinking about how much I want to get off this planet, and now that I can, I find I don't want to go.”
Lauren had her eyes shut tight, tears glistening on her pale cheeks. “Indeed,” she said, patting his leg. “I should have known this was coming. I did a reading for you the other night…The Death Card came up.”
“Come on, Lauren.”
“Oh, I forgot,” she said through her own laughter. “My brother is the very soul of skepticism.”
“I wouldn't say that,” Jack countered. “I tend to think there's more to this universe than meets the eye. I don't believe for a second that death is the end of existence, and I'm fairly sure that I've been here before. With a different face and a different name…but still me, if you know what I mean.
“I have plenty of spiritual beliefs, Lauren. I just don't think you can learn anything about the future from playing cards. The universe is more subtle than that. If we could see the future by throwing dice or reading tea leaves, there wouldn't be any wars. Everyone would be prosperous and healthy.
“No, I won't say that precognition is entirely impossible; a few years ago, I would have thought that FTL travel is impossible. Who knows what's out there? But if there is a way to read the future, it requires thought and care. And it's probably only a glimpse of what is likely to happen. Not a guarantee.”
“I see,” Lauren murmured.
Jack stood, slipping his hands into his back pockets and taking a few steps away from the bench. In his mind's eye, he could see his sister watching him with a tense expression. “Just the same,” he said. “I appreciate that you were thinking of me.”
“Have you told Mom and Dad?”
“Not yet.”
A soft, barely audible sigh escaped Lauren as she stood up to gently rest a hand on his shoulder. “Well, it seems I've only got a few more weeks with my little brother. I say we make the most of it.”
“So, you let them…change you?”
Harry watched the dark red wine slosh about as he tilted the glass just enough to make the liquid flow. His reflection – faint and distorted as it was – looked the same as it always had. Deep down, he felt the same as he always had. There was no profound new awareness of the universe, no urge to suddenly 'crush the humans.' Nothing that any sane person might expect after being altered by an Overseer device.
Harry looked up, blinking as he tried to gather his thoughts. “What was that?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “I'm sorry; my mind was somewhere else. What was that you were asking me?”
On the far side of his kitchen table, Della stood with her arms folded, frowning at him. “I asked you to repeat yourself,” she said, bending over to loom over him like a teacher who had just caught a student with chewing gum. “How could you just let those things screw around with your mind.”
Harry winced, pressing a palm to his forehead. A low groan escaped his lips. “I did not let them do anything, Della,” he snapped. “We needed the information in the device. I activated it, and it…changed me.”
His ex-wife frowned.
That was as much as he could tell her, of course – he wasn't about to risk his highly irresponsible ex learning about his search for the Key – but it would be enough to make the point. Sadly, he had to tell her this much. Harry was no fool. He felt like himself, but if these changes affected his ability to look after the girls…
Della
practically fell into the chair across from him, setting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. “All right,” she said. “Well, if you say you feel okay, I guess I believe you.”
“That's a first.”
“And possibly the last.” She sat up with some effort, pausing for a moment to get her bearings. “I still can't believe you let Melissa go…Well, I suppose there would be no stopping her.”
Sipping his wine to collect his thoughts, Harry fought down a wave of annoyance at the accusation. “I believe you told me that yourself just a few months ago,” he answered. “She's not a kid anymore, Della. In a few weeks, she'll be training to be a Keeper.”
“What do you suppose that will be like?”
A frown tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth, and he bowed his head to stare into his lap. “I honestly don't know,” he said. “But I would imagine that they'll keep her away from the more dangerous missions until she gets her symbiont.”
“Do something for me, Harry.”
He looked up to find his ex-wife watching him with eyes that glistened, her blonde hair a mess. Was she crying? He couldn't remember the last time Della had ever cried about anything. “Take her to Leyria.”
“To Leyria?”
With a grunt, Della stood and then lost her balance, bracing one hand on the table for support. Was everything all right there? “Della?” he inquired, hoping she would be willing to provide some insight.
“Just a headache.”
Della closed her eyes and touched two fingers to her forehead, soothing away the pain. “This planet's a hot mess, Harry,” she said. “I mean, look at everything we've seen in the last year. Nine months ago, I was shipping our kids off to Alberta because a terrorist might attack their school. Instead, he comes to this very house.
“Six months ago, I turn on the news to discover that the Keepers tried to arrest the head of their organization, and – worse yet – he escaped, nearly killing everyone aboard one of those space stations in the process. Now, New York is in flames. It's not safe here, Harry. It hasn't been safe since the day your friend Anna arrived. If Melissa is determined to train as a Justice Keeper, let her do so in a place where she isn't likely to be killed by an explosion or God knows what else.”
