SHARD: Book One of The Shard Trilogy (A YA Sci-fi Teens with Powers Series)

by A. M. Pierre

  “Where did Daisuke get the money for all of this?” Ezio asked.

  Connor powered up the building’s main computer. “Dice had plenty of inventions he secretly held patents for, along with a company or two to manufacture them—all made through his own genius, mind, not because of his elemental abilities. I always wondered what the men working there would think if they knew their mysterious only-checks-in-via-phone CEO wasn’t old enough to drive.” Connor frowned as the log-in screen popped up. “One small problem: Dice gave me the keys and codes to get into his buildings a long time ago, but he changed his computer passwords all the time. He used the same password for everything at any given time, but he never used simple ones we’d stand a chance at guessing. Unfortunately, I don’t have the slightest idea how we’ll be able to access any of his extra funds without that password.”

  A husky, unfamiliar voice spoke from behind them. “I know what it is.”

  A few of them jumped. A couple of them made involuntary yelping sounds. One froze like a deer in the headlights. Regardless of their initial response, six pairs of eyes slowly turned to look behind them.

  Mikaël looked back. “What?”

  Connor recovered first. “You, uh, you talked.”

  Mikaël nodded.

  “O . . . kay. So, Mikey, how do you know what the password is?”

  Mikaël shrugged. “Saw Dice use it last week. It was ‘ov6we3ba9.’”

  Alizée laughed, a short disbelieving burst. “How could you possibly remember that?”

  Mikaël pointed at his head. “Photographic memory. Eidetic.”

  “Are you being completely serious, Mikaël?” Ezio asked.

  Mikaël nodded.

  Connor looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. “And how come you never mentioned this ability of yours before?”

  Mikaël didn’t even blink. “You never asked.”

  “R-i-i-i-ght.” Connor sat down in front of the keyboard. “Could you repeat that string of gibberish?”

  “All lower-case: ov6we3ba9.”

  If this is wrong, let’s hope it doesn’t lock us out on the first try. Connor almost flinched as he pressed “Enter.” The screen went black for a second, and then all of the programs he remembered appeared. “We’re in. Good job, mate. As far as how much money Dice had in his accounts, one click here should take us right to them. And it looks like he had . . .” Connor nearly choked. It can’t be.

  Gabby peeked over his shoulder. “Is that the right number of commas?”

  “Yes.” Connor’s voice squeaked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, I believe it is. Boys and girls, we are set for life, no matter how long or short that ends up being. Which reminds me”—he spun in his chair to face everyone—“I’ve been assuming we all want to go after The Company for what they’ve done, but I realized I never actually asked. I know we all originally agreed to confront Ms. Smith, and we all agreed to run, but this is something else. In one of Dice’s last messages, he said, ‘You’re a survivor, so survive.’ I agree with him, so if survival for any of you means that you want to take some of this ginormous pile of money and take your chances in the world, I for one won’t be stopping you. But for me, survival means that I can’t just walk away. I can’t just let them be. I survived what they threw at me, and I’m proud of that, but they gave me my fair share of scars. Now I intend to give them some of their own. Anyone who wants to come along is more than welcome.”

  Gabby’s hand shot up. “Me. I’m coming.”

  Kaia nodded, even though she looked a little scared. “Me, too.”

  “Of course I will be helping you,” Vladimir said. “Is not a question.”

  Mikaël and Alizée both nodded. Ezio started to raise his hand but paused midway. “While I agree Ms. Smith should be held responsible, how do you propose we find her?”

  Connor grimaced. “Well, Dice had a lot of programs which could access government records and security cameras and, uh, other stuff like that. Plus his coded text message said the base was in Lyons, so we have somewhere to start.”

  Ezio didn’t look convinced. “Yes, but do you know where all these programs can be found? Do you know how to use them?”

  I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that. I have experience with some, and I should be able to figure out the rest eventually, but off the top of my head? Doesn’t really inspire confidence to say so, though.

  Mikaël took a step forward. “I know how. Dice showed me once.”

  “So all this time,” Connor said, “I’m guessing there were dozens of things you knew how to do just because you’d seen it somewhere—and a lot of times when those things would’ve really come in handy. Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

  “You never—”

  “Right, right. I remember.” Connor stepped aside from the computer terminal. “All is forgiven if you figure out what rock that red-lipped rat has scurried under.”

  Mikaël took Connor’s place at the computer. “This might take time. Go rest a while.”

  Vladimir put one of his massive hands on Mikaël’s shoulder. “Are you sure is okay? With the talking, I mean.”

  Mikaël didn’t turn around. “Yes,” he said. “It’s for Dice.”

  Connor was taking inventory of one of Dice’s storage rooms when Gabby found him a few hours later. “Find anything good?” she asked.

  He jumped slightly at her voice. “Sorry, guess I was a bit too focused there.” Cataloguing everything kept him busy. He needed to be busy. “I’ve found quite a few things, actually—stuff that’s interesting, cool, or just plain weird. Apparently, Dice kept a duplicate of every single one of his inventions here in case anything happened to his prototypes. A lot I recognize, like his virtual reality helmet or his face-swapping vidphone program, complete with face tracking dots, but some of these I’ve never seen before.” He held up a small, vaguely roundish bag in his left hand and a clear plastic cube containing a minute piece of electronics equipment in his right. “Like these. The bag is labeled ‘My Cool Thing,’ and the other, from what I can figure out, is a com that wires directly into your brain.”

  Gabby stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Who would let Dice mess with their head just so they wouldn’t have to wear a little com in their ear?”

  Connor grinned. “I’m guessing that’s why it’s sitting here abandoned.” He finally noticed the duffle bag slung over her shoulder. “What do you have there?”

  She set it down on the ground with a smile. “I found some spare mission jumpsuits and decided to customize them. See, there’s an office supply store around the corner, so I bought some iron-on transfers, found some pics online of the design I wanted, printed them from the computer in the bedroom I’ve claimed, and ironed them on. Easy. I think it’ll be nice, like a team uniform.”

  Connor raised an eyebrow. “Gabby, I know you mean well, but the jumpsuits are all black for a reason—it keeps us from standing out at night or if we’re hiding in the shadows, so I’m not really sure—”

  She held one of the jumpsuits up, and the rest of Connor’s protest caught in his throat. On the left shoulder, written in white, were the two kanji characters they all had worn on their training clothes: 光明. Koumyou. Bright Future. Hope. And, right above that, the image of an origami crane. Connor tried to blink away the wetness in his eyes. “It’s perfect, Gabby. Thank you.”

  Gabby threw her arms around him in a bear hug and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “I’m really glad you like it . . . Do you think he would’ve liked it?”

  “I’m sure of it.” Connor looked up at the ceiling. Anything not to look in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Gabby. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but I haven’t. Probably because I don’t know what to say, but that’s no excuse. I really—”

  She put a finger on his lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. I know.” She tiptoed up and kissed him again.
“I’ll take these and show the others. Keep doing the inventory thing. I think it’s good for you.” Gabby picked up her bag and walked out the door. “See you later. You, too.”

  Huh? Connor looked up. “Hi, Kaia,” he said. “How long have you been there?”

  * * *

  “Oh, not long.” Long enough to see Gabriela hug you and . . . and . . . other things. Kaia was surprised at how shocked she felt. There was something else she felt, too, but she quickly ignored it. Come to think about it, there were quite a few times she had seen the two of them being close. Had she been cluelessly missing signals again? Probably. She seemed to have a real genius for it. Really, why shouldn’t the two of them be dating? They’d known each other a long time, Gabriela was sweet (and unfairly gorgeous)—really, why not?

  “I’m sorry we can’t do anything about your cast.”

  Connor’s words fell so far away from her own train of thought that for a second they didn’t make a lick of sense. “My cast?”

  “Yeah, I wish we could speed up your bone’s healing with the Elemental Therapy machine like we did Ezio’s gunshot wound, but it’s been awhile since we had someone who could control calcium.”

  She still couldn’t quite focus. “Right. I gotcha. No worries. I can still do stuff. At least I’m right-handed, right?”

  “Are you okay? You seem a little . . . off, somehow.”

  “I’m fine. As fine as, you know, I can be.” She studiously examined the various mechanical items in the room. “It’s really nice how you look after Gabriela.”

  “I guess. I mean, I try, but I wish there was more I could do for her. I know she’s missing Dice a lot more than she’s letting on. Sometimes I thought they might get together when they got older . . . would have gotten together . . . whatever.”

  “Really? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, but I saw you two when I came up. Are you sure you don’t, I mean, that she doesn’t have a thing for you?”

  Connor chuckled. “I doubt it. As far as the hugs and kisses go, she’s Brazilian. With my British blood, it took some getting used to, but it’s just a cultural thing.”

  “You really care about her, don’t you?”

  “Well, yes. The Company recruited us at the same time, along with Dice. We’ve been through a lot together.”

  Kaia took a breath. “Maybe you should consider dating her.”

  “Yeah, maybe I should,” Connor said, a definite sarcastic tone in his voice. He paused. “Wait, you’re serious. You honestly think I would date her?”

  “Why not? She’s a really nice person—you should think about it.”

  Connor’s expression wasn’t sarcastic anymore. His whole face was red, about to explode with the laughter he was suppressing.

  “What? Why are you laughing at me?”

  He was still red, but he managed to form a sentence or two. “Everybody’s birthday is only a few weeks away, right?”

  “Yeah, what does that have to—?”

  “I will be 17. You will be 16.”

  Kaia was getting impatient. “I’m well aware—”

  “And Gabriela will finally be a teenager.”

  Kaia blinked. “Wait, what?” Connor just smiled. “She’s 12?” He nodded. “There’s no way. She looks, I mean, she looks . . .” Kaia frowned. “She’s like six inches taller than me!”

  “She started her growth spurt early. It happens. Gabby’s like my little sister. Emphasis on the little.” He gave her a wink. “So, like I said, I don’t think I’ll be dating her anytime soon.”

  Kaia felt relieved, embarrassed, and inexplicably happy. She didn’t know what to do or say next, so she settled on playing with her pendant with her right hand and awkwardly attempting to play with her hair with her cast-encased left.

  “Why do you do that?” Connor pointed at her hand. “You pull at your hair a lot, like you’re making sure it’s still exactly where you left it.”

  “I don’t do it a lot.”

  Connor’s expression was clear. Yeah, right.

  “Okay, so I do. Why do you want to know?”

  “Well, you already explained your pendant to me, so I guess I just won’t be happy until I’ve uncovered the psychology behind all your random tics.” One eyebrow arched upward. “Besides, I told you all about my tawdry abandonment issues without you saying anything about your past, so I think I’m entitled to a tiny little ‘why I play with my hair’ revelation.”

  “Okay, I guess. It’s nothing dark or serious or anything . . . I don’t like my ears. They’re big and they stick out, and my hair covers them. If I know they’re hidden, I feel better.”

  “Right. You know you have to pull your hair back now.”

  She looked at him wide-eyed. “No, I do not.”

  “Oh, yes, you do.” Connor had his arms crossed and a very serious look on his face, like he was a judge getting ready to pass sentence. “After a claim like that, I need to personally review the evidence. Otherwise, how can I be sure of the veracity of your evaluation?”

  “You’re not going to let this go until I do, are you?”

  “You got that right, love,” he said with a huge grin.

  “All right, fine.” She took a breath and pulled her hair up with both hands.

  “Huh. Well, I’m gutted.

  Kaia’s hands dropped with a thud. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m truly disappointed. You made me think I was going to see something properly horrific, ears of truly elephantine proportions, and they are, instead, disgustingly average. Jeez, next time try for more accuracy in your self-deprecation.”

  “Wait . . . you don’t think they’re too big?”

  Connor was trying not to laugh again. “Of course not, love. They’re perfectly normal.” His hand lightly brushed her chin. “Cute little ears on a cute little face.” He turned away before he could see her reaction. “I feel I should offer you something in exchange for that soul-baring moment, and I think I have it. Perhaps it’s not on the same scale, but at least it’s something.”

  He stopped and sat down in a nearby chair, facing toward her but not really looking at her. Looking at the ceiling would be more accurate. “When you were in England and I thought Ms. Smith was, uh, going to kill you, I did a lot of thinking. Well, worrying more than thinking, but there were some thoughts in there. Like what I said to you. And didn’t say. And then what I said to Dice. In our last conversation, I mean. Last argument, technically. I realized I could keep on replaying it over and over and regretting what I said, but I already have enough regrets. So I’ve decided there’s something I could do to honor him instead.” He lowered his eyes to meet hers. “I could take his advice. He said I always push people away when they start getting too close, and he was right. He was absolutely right, but I don’t want it to stay that way. I know it’s not going to happen overnight and I’m probably going to mess up more times than I succeed, but I’ll keep working on it anyway. I have to . . . because I don’t think I can keep on being this way if it means I end up alone.”

  Kaia was about to cry, but she certainly wasn’t sad. “I think that would’ve made him very happy. Me, too.” She bit her lip. “Um, I have a regret, too. Just in case we don’t make it back from this crazy little mission, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I doped you back in that safe house. Ms. Smith told me it was the right thing to do, and I tried to make myself believe her. I’m sorry.” She had expected anger, but he was smiling. Relief lit her heart up like a sunbeam.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “For my part, I’m sorry I shot you in the back the first day I met you. Smith told me that was the right thing to do, too.”

  Kaia laughed. “You drugged me. I drugged you.”

  Connor winced. “Yeah, this isn’t really a problem most ordinary people have, is it—having to apologize for knocking out a friend against thei
r will?”

  “Not the last time I checked. I’ll stop doing it if you will.”

  “I’ll do you one better—how about we both stop listening to Ms. Smith?” Connor stood and held out his hand to shake hers.

  She took it with a grin. “Deal.”

  An unseen loudspeaker crackled. “Attention, everyone,” Alizée said, “Mikaël has determined the location of The Company’s base. If everyone would please come to the central computer station, we can all discuss our next step.”

  Connor’s smile faded, but Kaia wasn’t sure what was left behind. Grim satisfaction? Anticipation? Whatever it was, Kaia hadn’t seen it before. He headed for the door. “Showtime.”

  Vladimir tried to think only about his driving as they got ever closer to Lyons, but the small area of road illuminated by his headlights did little to occupy his mind.

  He didn’t want to think about what might happen soon—about fighting or violence or his friends getting hurt. He didn’t want to think about what Ms. Smith had said, either, but he couldn’t stop. She had used them to hurt people. That was all he cared about right now—finding out who they had hurt and seeing if he could help them.

  “I am not caring about finding Ms. Smith. What will we do with her? Give her to police? We know she is being evil, but we cannot prove to them, and I do not want us to be killing her.”

  “What do you want us to do then, huh, mate? Give her a pat on the back and send her on her merry way?”

  “That is not what I am saying, Connor. I am saying she is not as important as finding who we have been hurting. Focus should be on finding files. Mikaël can help us do that, yes?”