by R S Penney
Chapter 17
Melissa woke, curled up on a small cot in the Principal's office, still fully clothed with the blankets tangled at her feet. The warm sunlight of early morning came through the rectangular window in the white cinder-block wall.
She sat up.
Closing her eyes, Melissa pressed a hand to her forehead. I need to get more than four hours sleep, she thought, ignoring her throbbing headache. How do doctors survive those thirty-six hour shifts?
The small room was devoid of furniture of any kind except for three other cots that all supported other volunteers, though Teresa – a willowy girl with long auburn hair that fell in curls – was already rising and getting dressed. They said nothing; Brett and Joshua were still asleep. They'd be up and about in less than ten minutes when the doctors started making noise in the hallway. May as well let them enjoy a few precious minutes of dream time. Every moment of rest was a blessing.
Melissa felt her mouth stretch into a ferocious yawn, then clamped one hand over it to avoid being rude. How long is this little war going to continue? she wondered, getting to her feet. It's been what…
She checked her phone.
Twelve days? Only twelve days since the first attacks on the city? Two weeks ago, no one would have imagined that Grecken Slade would try something. Now, he had one of the world's greatest cities on its knees. Her stomach growled, and she remembered that some of the National Guard had dropped off food supplies yesterday afternoon. Restoring communication had gone a long way toward making that kind of coordination possible. Dr. Hamilton had been using the school's land-line connections to keep in touch with local police, but the Leyrians relied solely on radio-frequency calls. City authorities were skittish about the prospect of making food deliveries without Justice Keeper support.
She moseyed out into a hallway lined with blue lockers in each wall. Scuffed floor tiles ran a good two hundred feet through the narrow corridor to a set of double doors that looked out on the play field.
Dr. Hamilton was already standing with a clipboard in hand, frowning at two of her subordinates – a pair of doctors in blue scrubs. “We're running low on painkillers,” she said. “Start rationing them. Severe cases first.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Ah, Melissa, good.” The doctor spun to face her with a smile and a curt nod of approval. “I trust you slept well.”
Melissa felt her cheeks burn, then bowed her head to avoid eye-contact. “As well as I could,” she mumbled after a moment. “Where would you like me to start this morning? Room fourteen again?”
“No, I need you to move some supplies.”
The urge to ask what kind of supplies had barely formed in Melissa's mind when the door at the end of the hallway swung open to reveal several people standing in the morning sunlight. One strode forward with a commanding presence. Short and slim, she wore a simple pair of black pants and a matching t-shirt. Her red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and the hallway lights glinted off the lenses of her sunglasses.
Anna moved with the kind of easy confidence that Melissa could only hope to attain one day, flanked by Jack and…her father? Harry was here? In the city? Suddenly, Melissa felt very uneasy. Her father wasn't exactly a young man. What was he doing throwing himself into this mess? That's probably how he feels about you.
“You came!” Melissa exclaimed.
Anna reached up to lower her sunglasses so she could peek over the rims. “Were you expecting us to do otherwise?” she asked, arching one eyebrow. “You should really know us better than that.”
Jack was smiling with his eyes closed, shaking his head in wry amusement. “Dude, she just gave you the perfect setup!” he exclaimed. “Riding in to save the day at the last moment! You're supposed to say something witty.”
A frown thinned her father's lips as he stared down at the floor in front of him. “So now that we have the requisite silliness out of the way,” he muttered. “Maybe we could get these supplies in place.”
“Always down to business, eh, Dad?”
“We have a lot to do.”
Well, that was certainly true. It turned out the whole gang was here: Ben and Gabi and Raynar as well. Most of them were busy unloading crates from police cruisers that had pulled into the school's parking lot. Jena had liaised with the senior Justice Keepers, and they agreed that there was a good chance Slade's men would try to hit this “hospital;” so they were mounting a defense.
She spent the next three hours lugging crates full of medical supplies down to the school's maintenance room, taking the odd break to check in on her patients or eat a light snack. To her chagrin, most of the work was done by Keepers. It wasn't that she wasn't trying; she and Raynar would drag a single crate halfway through the school while Jack or Anna walked past carrying two on their own. On his way back to the parking lot, Jack would often stop, grab whatever Melissa and Raynar were holding and carry it the rest of the way himself. It was tiring but fulfilling. She had an opportunity to chat with Raynar, which was nice.
After hauling the final crate into the maintenance room, she and Raynar heaved out a sigh of relief and took a moment to rest their aching muscles. The room was essentially a prison cell of white cinder-blocks with no sources of natural light. Blue metal shelves on each wall were loaded with cleaning supplies equipment.
Raynar was doubled over with a hand on chest, gasping as he tried to catch his breath. “Is this what your school is like?” he mumbled, staring at the wall. “All bright colours and trophy cases?”
Melissa shut her eyes, rubbing sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Well, this is an elementary school,” she explained. “But really, there's not all that much of a difference. My school is the same, just bigger.”
Raynar sat down on one of the crates with his hands on his knees, hunching up his shoulders as if he were trying to fight off a chill. “I wish I could tell you what schools on my world were like.”
“You've never seen one?”
“Life in a prison cell, remember?”
Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, Melissa hung her head in shame. She should have chosen her words more carefully. “Right,” she said, nodding to him. “Sorry. I guess I thought you would have seen pictures.”
He was smiling at her, his gray eyes catching the light of the fluorescent bulbs. “No need to be sorry,” he said. “I find most people prefer to ignore my history.”
“I wasn't-”
“I know.”
Tilting her head back, Melissa blinked at the ceiling. “Seems you've missed out on an awful lot,” she murmured. “No sports, no parties…No sneaking in at 2 a.m. and hoping your father didn't notice you were out past curfew.”
He shrugged, then leaned forward with a burst of wheezing laughter. “Well, there was Keli,” he said, shaking his head. “Not exactly what I would call a friend, but…In a way, she knows me better than most people ever will.”
“How's that?”
“I was there to provide her with target practice,” he said softly. Such a disturbing sentiment delivered in such a calm, rational tone: it almost made Melissa want to shiver. “She'd burrow through my defenses every day, dig through my memories.”
“That sounds awful.”
“It was.”
Raynar stood up with a sigh, slipping his hands into his back pocket. He turned on his heel and paced a line to the cinder-block wall. “On my world, telepathic violation is a serious crime,” he said. “But Kelli was their pet project. The military was trying to make a new kind of soldier.”
Now that made her feel sick to her stomach. Would she ever understand this insane obsession with creating new and more lethal kinds of soldiers? She'd seen footage of the monstrosities Slade had created out of living people, but that was hardly the first attempt at making a super solider.
Amps had been a failed project designed to give an ordinary person the physical capabilities of a Justice Keeper, a project that had produced such disastrous results, it h
ad been classified until Jena exposed it last year. And this was the work of the peace-loving Leyrians. What might other powers in the galaxy have come up with?
The truth was that this had all started with the Keepers themselves, To her knowledge, they were the galaxy's first super soldiers. And here she was, trying to join their ranks. “And you were just…disposable to them?” she asked.
Raynar trembled.
“That's awful.”
“Very much so.”
Hugging herself and rubbing her upper arms, Melissa felt a shiver pass through her. “And now you're throwing yourself into the heat of battle,” she said. “You've never even been to a party.”
He turned, looking over his shoulder, watching her through narrowed eyes. “I had a few good months on Earth,” he said. “Saw things I never thought I'd see. If I die here…at least I have that much.”
Melissa felt her mouth tighten, but kept her eyes glued to the floor. “Still,” she said, taking a cautious step forward. “Nobody should die at the age of eighteen. Especially not someone who spent most of their life in a cell.”
Raynar spun around to face her and leaned against the wall with his hands clasped in front of himself, head hanging in dismay. “That's just the way of the world, Melissa. I don't make the rules.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
Anger flared inside her, anger and disgust at his unwavering pessimism. On some level, she could understand it – his life had been horrible – but she refused to accept it. “You don't know the rules of how the world works.”
An idea occurred to her, one that she would very much like to pursue, but it just wasn't her way. Melissa could be outspoken when it came to her work or her values, but in matters of the heart, she was always hit by a paralyzing shyness. It was how she ended up dating people who weren't that good for her. When you couldn't speak up, you were pretty much relegated to whoever was willing to pay attention to-
Raynar looked up, squinting at her. “You want me to kiss you?” he exclaimed with such disbelief in his voice. “I…Melissa…I've always valued your friendship, and I would be lying if I said I didn't find you beautiful, but I don't want to impose…”
Closing her eyes, Melissa bowed her head to him. Her face was on fire. “It was just an idle thought,” she mumbled. “I mean…Correct me if I'm wrong, but you spent most of your life in a cell; so I'm betting you've never kissed a girl.”
Now, he was blushing and refusing to make eye-contact. “You're not wrong.” He stepped away from the wall, then pressed a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “But I don't want you to do it out of pity.”
“I wouldn't.”
“Well, that's good.”
Melissa looked up at him, blinking several times as she chose her words. “I don't pity you, Raynar,” she said softly. “And this is not the first time that I've thought about kissing you.”
He stepped forward, approaching her with his eyes shut, and let out a deep breath. “Okay,” he said with a curt nod. “Then I guess I should tell you that I've thought about kissing you too.”
“You have?”
“Many times.”
“You know, I suddenly realize that it's incredibly unfair that you should get to read my thoughts when I don't get to read yours.”
The ghost of a smile appeared on his face, and he reached up to run fingers through his thick blonde hair. “That's life with a telepath,” he murmured. “You're going to have to get used to unfairness.”
“Well, as long as you make up for-”
He gently took her by the shoulders, pulling her close. Then his lips were on hers, and though it was clunky at first, he quickly discovered exactly what she liked. Telepathy, she supposed.
After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at her. “Well, then,” he said. It felt different than it had with other guys. Significant in ways she couldn't quite put into words. “Of all the experiences in my short life, that was one of the best.”
“Do me a favour,” Melissa said. “When you go out there to fight Slade's people, make sure you come back.”
Jena removed the lid from a crate to reveal several light-armoured vests in various sizes within. “You like 'em?” Jack asked from behind her. “I certainly hope so, because Larani sent a few dozen more.”
Chewing on her lip, Jena shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I like them,” she said, nodding her approval. “A few dozen more, huh? I take it Larani has decided to arm Pedro's officers as well.”
She turned around.
Jack stood before a blue cinder-block wall with hands clasped behind his back, smiling at her. “Yeah, the whole nine,” he said stepping forward. “Leyrian assault rifles, Leyrian sidearms. She wants us ready for whatever Slade throws at us.”
Warm sunlight came through the windows of the school's staff room, illuminating round tables that were spaced out on a white tiled floor. At the moment, several other people were present.
Pedro leaned against the wall with his arms folded, his head turned to stare out the window. The man seemed to be effecting a casual disinterest in this discussion. Not that she blamed him. From day one, Jena had made it undeniably clear that she was the brains of this operation. The man probably expected to have more of a say.
Ben sat on a table by the window with his knees apart, feet resting on a gray plastic chair. “Well, then at least we have a fighting chance,” he muttered. “Though I have to say I feel sorry for Larani.”
“Why's that?” Jack inquired.
“For years, it's been Leyrian policy to avoid sharing weapons with Earth's military and law-enforcement agencies. Larani must feel backed into a corner to even consider this. She's been doing a lot of ethical compromising lately. My presence here being yet another example.”
Closing her eyes, Jena tilted her head back. “We've all had to make hard choices,” she said, striding toward Jack. “And we can deal with the fallout of those decisions later. Right now, we need to talk strategy.”
“That could be a problem,” Anna said.
The girl sat at one table with her elbows on its surface, her chin resting atop laced fingers. “This school is located in the middle of a grid of intersecting streets,” she said. “Slade could attack us from any direction.”
“Can we evacuate the patients?” Jena inquired.
Jack narrowed his eyes as he stared into the distance. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I brought this up with Dr. Hamilton an hour ago. Many of these people are not in any shape to be moved.”
“One thing I don't understand,” Pedro grumbled. “I've seen footage of Leyrian aircraft. No matter what Slade may have at his disposal, you people have to have more firepower. Why not just blow him away before he can attack?”
Her mouth a gaping hole, Anna tilted her head back to blink at the ceiling. “You've got to be kidding me,” she muttered. “First of all, Slade's people may be driving vans, but that doesn't mean that every van on the road is carrying armoured thugs and ziarogati. We are not in the business of killing civilians.
“Second of all, the kind of ordinance that can inflict serious damage on a starship are not well-suited to densely populated urban areas. Unless you're planning to turn large sections of this city into smoking craters, air-strikes are out of the question.”
“I see,” Pedro muttered. “Well, that really only leaves us with one option. My guys will have to patrol the streets in squad cars and call in if they see anything suspicious.”
“There may be another way,” Jena replied. “With communications restored, I could ask Station Twelve to monitor the city with surveillance drones. That would give us some advanced warning when Slade makes his move.”
She looked up to find Pedro scowling at her and shaking his head in dismay. “Your people have surveillance drones?”
Touching two fingers to her forehead, Jena let out a deep breath. “We seldom use them,” she mumbled in a voice strained by exhaustion. “We consider it to be a violation of ba
sic privacy rights, but the technology exists.”
“I think,” Ben cut in, “that under the circumstances, we might be able to justify an exception to that policy.”
“I'll make the call,” Jena hissed. “In the meantime, Anna, I want you to take a team and monitor the neighbourhood. If you see anyone suspicious, detain them and figure out what they're about. Let's see if Slade really is targeting this place.”
“On it.”
Through a pair of binoculars, Anna watched the rooftop of the building across the street, the auto-zoom coming into focus on Aamani, who was crouched by the ledge and peering through the scope of her rifle. She must have noticed because she looked up just long enough to make eye-contact and nodded.
Anna was lying flat on her belly on the roof of a small office building. Though her hair was tied back, thin red strands still framed her face. “Eyes open, people,” she said into her multi-tool. “Raynar, you in position?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
She swung her binoculars to the right to find him in a window on the top floor of Aamani's building. The kid looked focused, his eyes fixed on the street below. Melissa's doctor friend claimed that Slade's people had been driving through this neighbourhood more frequently in the last few days.
Well, if that was true, Jena wanted to know it. Director Kos was planning to hit Slade's warehouse tonight, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be trouble in the meantime. Most of the city had evacuated to Queens while their little band of rebels had tried to keep engagements bottled up in Brooklyn. But it seemed Slade had deduced their plan, and if Melissa's reports were correct, he was planning to hit this neighbourhood. “Ben,” she said. “You good to go?”
“I'm discreetly out of sight,” he murmured through the speaker. “But I can pop out and tag any vehicle that happens to come by.”
“Good,” she murmured. “Watch the periph.”
Jack was down on his stomach beside her, holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. “It's gonna be okay,” he whispered for her ears only. “If they're here, An, we'll find them before they do any damage.”
