Severed Bonds

by R S Penney

  Leo stood up.

  The man strode forward with a cruel smile on his face, shaking his head slowly. “I hate you Leyrians,” he said. “You're all so soft.”

  He raised the knife.

  “Jon!” Harry called from the bedroom window.

  Reacting by instinct, Jon brought one hand up to seize the other man's wrist on the downstroke, calling upon his Nassai to apply a surge of Bent Gravity. He felt the warping of space-time and let go at the last second.

  Leo shot upward.

  The man spasmed, arms flailing, legs kicking, as he pulled like a fish on a line, but the Bending that Jon had applied was very weak, and Leo reached the apex of his flight perhaps twenty feet off the ground.

  Right in front of the bedroom window.

  A rippling force-field sped through the opening and struck Leo at the very instant when he began to fall, propelling him across the backyard to the trees where Melissa and Valeth fought each other.

  Leo vanished from sight, dropping into the darkness, but the man's screams were loud enough to wake the dead, and the sudden thump indicated that he had landed. Jon tried to focus.

  He knew that he was dealing with some pretty severe internal bleeding; trying to move would be a very bad idea. Even with a Keeper's ability to heal quickly, it was still quite possible for him to bleed out. Companion have mercy, he thought. I need help.

  In her mind's eye, Valeth saw the silhouette of Melissa go face-first into the tree. The girl stumbled, clinging to the trunk to keep herself upright, swinging around it to put an obstacle between her and Valeth.

  Down on one knee, Valeth shut her eyes and felt sweat roll over her face. “Not so easy, my dear,” she panted. “When you face a servant of the Inzari, you stand against the will of the gods!”

  The pistol she had lost was on the ground.

  As she reached for it, Valeth heard a shrill scream and looked up to watch Leo fly over her and drop into the darkness of the forest. This night was lost. There was no point in continuing this attack.

  Snatching up her pistol, she slipped it into its holster and then stood. She quickly turned and ran into the small patch of woodland, spatial awareness allowing her to sense every tree despite the fact that her eyes were not so useful in the dark.

  Leo was there, curled up on his side, face hidden behind one arm. The man was panting.

  Valeth squeezed her eyes shut, then gave her head a shake. “Idiot!” she snapped as she approached. “Unable to handle one Justice Keeper. I should have left you to Carlson and his friends.”

  Leo groaned.

  “Get up!”

  The man tried to do as he was ordered but quickly fell back down on the ground. If Slade had not ordered her to assist him in his poorly thought-out quest for vengeance, she would have abandoned him. She was not a fighter! Not unless she was left with no other options. But the Inzari saw Leo as an asset…

  She stooped low and slung the man's arm over her shoulder, rising with a grunt and carrying him deeper into the woods. The ground was uneven, sloping up and down, and it made the journey that much more difficult. Leo, it seemed, had broken some bones.

  At last, the trees gave way to the backyard of another round house with a domed roof. The lights were on in several windows, meaning that someone inside had probably heard the commotion.

  Valeth closed her eyes and focused.

  Her symbiont allowed her to Bend Gravity, and she lessened its pull around herself and Leo to almost nothing. She jumped and carried the man with her to the rooftop, then scrambled over it with Leo wheezing the whole way.

  She leaped over the front yard to another street where white streetlights cast cones of radiance down on the pavement. Slade would not be pleased, but he was far away, on the other side of the galaxy. It was Isara she had to worry about.

  “Come, Leo,” she said. “We have much to do.”

  Claire was sound asleep under a blanket, her cheek pressed into one of the pillows on Jack's couch while some Disney movie played in the background. There were times when Anna wondered what the numerous entertainment companies of Earth would think if they were reminded of the fact that Leyrians could watch anything they had produced for free. It was part of cultural exchange when their two worlds had first made contact. An entire library of Earth's books, movies and music in exchange for the same from her own people.

  Anna was on the floor with her legs curled up against her chest, hugging her knees. “I think she's out,” she whispered. “Poor thing. I don't think she fell asleep until she just couldn't stay awake any longer.”

  She looked up.

  Jack was reclining in the easy chair with hands folded over his chest, his eyes shut as he tried to rest. “That's good,” he mumbled. “Any word from Harry?”

  Anna checked her multi-tool.

  Many instant messages were displayed on the small screen, but they were all from her father. “We need to talk about what happened at the party,” followed by “Your sister is quite upset” and other such nonsense. Until now, she had been too focused on keeping Claire from getting upset – not to mention soothing her own frustration at the fact that she had not been included in this little sting – to really concern herself with checking her messages. She'd scanned them every time her multi-tool buzzed, but when she saw her father's name, she decided it could wait.

  Apparently, Beran didn't agree, and it made her want to punch him. Did it not occur to him that she had other concerns?

  Biting her lower lip, Anna shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “That's my dad for you,” she muttered to herself. “Always willing to play the diplomat.”

  “Hmm,” Jack said.

  “Nothing.”

  Rather than getting even more upset, she pulled the blankets over Claire's shoulder and watched her sleep. The girl was a cute kid with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she was getting old enough to know when her family was in the middle of something dangerous. Anna couldn't help but feel for her.

  It was one thing when your child decided to become a Keeper; at least you would be all right. But if your only two guardians were both consistently putting themselves in mortal danger…Claire had to be antsy.

  “You ever feel like your missing anything?” Jack asked.

  In her mind's eye, Anna saw his silhouette turned on its side in the easy chair, one elbow on the armrest and his cheek pressed against the knuckles of his fist. “Kids,” he said. “You ever feel like we might be missing out?”

  “Honestly? Not really.”

  “No?”

  “I never really wanted kids,” she said softly. “I mean it's not like I was opposed to the idea, but…”

  She turned around.

  Jack rolled onto his back, folding his hands behind his head and smiling up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I've always felt the same way,” he said. “I never hated the idea, but it just wasn't something I wanted.”

  “So, why the question?”

  “Idle curiosity.”

  Her multi-tool beeped, and she swiped a finger across the screen to answer a call. Melissa's face appeared on the screen, and she couldn't help but notice a thin gash on the girl's forehead. Damn it! Anna knew she should have been there with them. “We screwed up,” Melissa said. “Leo got away.”

  “He's very crafty.”

  The girl flinched at that comment and shook her head. “Director Andalon has been injured,” she went on. “They're taking him to Lara Sivali general hospital. I'm…Someone has to stay with my dad.”

  “It's okay, Melissa.”

  “In case Leo comes back…”

  With her her eyes shut tightly, Anna gave herself a moment to let it all sink in. “It's going to be okay,” she said. “We'll look after Claire tonight, and then we can all regroup tomorrow morning. He's crafty, Melissa.”

  “I know.”

  “It wasn't your fault.”

  “I know.”

  The screen on her multi-tool went dark, and she was left with an unpleasant feel
ing in her belly. As if the girl hadn't really listened to a word Anna said. Keeping her anger in check was going to be difficult. When Harry first proposed this plan, she wanted to be a part of it, but Jon had convinced them all that a small team was best.

  It was Melissa's home; she knew the area better than anyone else, and the girl had developed a natural skill with hand-to-hand. So, that was one person. Harry had signed up as bait, and well…someone had to play that role. It didn't make much sense for it to be someone who didn't live there. And Jon felt some kind of personal responsibility to see this through himself.

  That put Jack and Anna on the sidelines – how odd; she had picked up certain Earth colloquialisms – and someone had to look after Claire.

  Jack brought the chair to an upright position, grunting as it snapped into place. His face twisted into something almost unrecognizable. “So, it didn't work,” he whispered. “I should have been there.”

  “I felt the same way.”

  Silence lasted a few seconds.

  With a soft sigh, Jack got out of his chair and shuffled past her to the living room window. “Why don't you head home and get some sleep?” he suggested. “I can take care of Claire for now.”

  Anna nodded.

  “See you in the morning?”

  “Yeah.”

  Chapter 14

  The glowing blue eyes of her serving bot seemed to be full of an earnest desire for approval as he stood in the middle of her tiled kitchen floor. “Are you enjoying the meal, Ms. Lenai,” he asked.

  Anna sat at her kitchen table, hunched over and smiling into a piping-hot bowl of vegetable soup. “I'm sure it's delicious, Rin,” she assured the robot. “You've always been a wonderful cook; you know that.”

  The robot waited.

  Shoveling a spoonful into her mouth, Anna closed her eyes and savoured the taste. “Wonderful,” she said with a curt nod. “You've outdone yourself again. Why don't you power down until morning?”

  At her suggestion, the robot turned and marched to the small alcove in the corner, spinning around to face outward and backing into the charging unit. His eyes went dark after a few seconds.

  There were days when she would swear this bot had a personality and a particularly needy one at that. Absolute nonsense, of course – she knew that his programming would not allow for that – but there were days when he seemed so desperate for her approval.

  It might actually have something to do with the fact that Anna preferred to do her own cooking; she really only used serving bots when she was pressed for time or coming home from a long day. Still, maybe she should be a little nicer. She had been meaning to ask Ven about it, but the AI had disappeared shortly before they left Earth. No one knew where Ven had gone.

  Anna worried about her. If the Overseers really were prowling around the fringes of known space, then an AI might make for a tempting target. Her reverie was cut off by a knock at the door.

  Wiping her mouth with a napkin, Anna heaved out a breath. “What is it now?” She got out of her chair and made her way into the living room. “Really, who decides to drop by at this hour?”

  Her apartment was sparsely decorated; a white couch propped up against the blue wall faced a simple glass coffee table, and a window to her left with fluttering curtains allowed warm night air into the room.

  She pulled open the front door.

  Her father stood in the hallway in a simple black t-shirt, his eyes downcast as if he couldn't bear to look at her. “Leana,” he said, nodding. “I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm sure you want to turn in but-”

  “You want to talk about the other night.”

  Her father strode through the door without an invitation and paused in the centre of her living room, folding his arms behind himself. “There's been some discussion as to whether I should say anything.”

  Anna crossed her arms with a heavy sigh, frowning down at herself. “Maybe you should trust that instinct,” she said, coming up behind him. “Come on, Dad. Is it really fair to demand that I listen to those women disparaging my chosen profession without a single word of protest?”

  Beran whirled around to face her, thrusting his chin out and staring down his nose in that way that always made her feel three feet tall. Which was quite the loss when she was already short to begin with. “Close the door,” he ordered. “Your neighbours do not need to hear this.”

  She obliged him.

  “Why do you always make trouble?”

  The fire in her belly wanted to erupt from her lips – Mercy knows she'd earned the right to stand up for herself – but she decided to play it cool. Instead, she opened the door again and gestured to the hallway. “You can leave now,” Anna said. “I'm not having this argument with you.”

  “Leana, we need to-”

  “Do you wanna know what I did tonight?” Before he could answer, she decided to press on. “I looked after my friend's youngest daughter while he and his eldest set a trap for the killer that's got the media in an uproar.”

  Anna leaned against the door-frame with arms folded, shaking her head in disgust. “It's past midnight,” she said. “I'm eating soup because my stomach has been tied up in knots for hours, and I won't be able to sleep.”

  “Leana-”

  “No!”

  Beran's face was flushed, his forehead glistening as he scowled and visibly tried to calm himself. “Your sister has been upset all day,” he said. “Your mother and I have tried to calm her down, but she's beside herself.”

  She strode toward him, and to her delight, Beran actually backed away. There were days when a temper could turn a tiny woman into a giant. “You really think Alia's stupid wedding is my biggest concern right now?” she said. “Tell you what. Uninvite me.”

  “Leana, I'm sorry.”

  Anna looked up to squint at him, holding his gaze for a very long while. “No,” she said. “You don't come in here when I'm run ragged and lecture me about standing up for myself in the presence of ninnies with a bloated sense of entitlement. Not when I'm the one who keeps putting my life on the line for those ninnies.”

  Her father hesitated.

  “Get out.”

  The bland, sterile hallways one often found in most hospitals usually made Anna feel a vague sense of discomfort, and this one was no exception. Bright lights overhead shone down on floor tiles that glistened just a little too much and white walls with small touchscreens next to every door.

  One room she passed offered the sound of an older man struggling to breathe – and her heart broke to think of anyone in such pain – while others gave the soft beep, beep of medical equipment and others still were silent.

  At last, she came to Jon Andalon's room.

  Melissa sat in a nearby chair with her elbows on her thighs, her chin resting on the heels of both hands. “Hey,” the girl mumbled. “You look stressed. Did everything go all right with Claire?”

  Anna puckered her lips to blow out a breath, then shut her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, it went fine,” she said, taking the next chair over. “Jack's making sure she gets to school. But maybe we should talk about you.”

  “There's nothing to talk about.”

  “Really,” Anna said. “So you're not doing that thing where you blame yourself for the fact that the plan failed?”

  The girl's face went white, and she stiffened for a brief second. “Maybe a little bit,” she admitted. “But I think I've earned a little blame, don't you? Director Andalon was in surgery for three hours because I wasn't there to help him!”

  Slouching down with arms folded, Anna tossed her head back and rolled her eyes. “Just before I met your father,” she began, “I spent several days in a hospital, recovering from a gunshot to the chest.”

  Melissa went still, but she kept her gaze focused on the corridor wall. Maybe the girl hadn't known about Anna's fight with Pennfield and the bullet she took as the reward for a moment's inattention. That had been almost five years ago. Melissa would have been very young, and it wasn't likely tha
t Harry would have shared the gory details.

  Recalling those events certainly didn't make Seth very happy. Her symbiont was as tense as an elastic band that had been stretched to its limit. That wound had been Anna's first real brush with death, and Seth had pushed himself to his limit to keep her alive.

  “We get hurt in this line of work, Melissa,” she went on. “Blaming yourself for that isn't gonna do a damn thing to change it.”

  Anna gave her friend a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and that seemed to ease the young woman's tension. “I'm gonna check on Jon,” she said. “Why don't you go down to the cafeteria? Have a little breakfast?”

  “Okay.”

  The interior of Jon Andalon's room was pretty much what would expect if you had ever been in a hospital before. Warm sunlight from a large window fell upon a bed where Jon slept peacefully. Monitors on the wall displayed his heart rate, his blood pressure and other vital signs.

  His face was almost serene as he breathed slowly in and out. Despite her advice to Melissa, Anna felt a pang of guilt. If she had been there…No. That kind of thinking would only be a distraction.

  Jon grunted.

  His eyes fluttered open, and then he turned his head to cast a frosty glare in her direction. “I thought you were Melissa,” he muttered. “The kid's been in and out of here at least a dozen times.”

  Anna stood before him with hands clasped behind herself, head bowed respectfully. “She's still new at this, and she's probably still dealing with a bit of survivor's guilt after taking Jena's symbiont.”

  “You're probably right.”

  “How are you?”

  Jon scrunched up his face in a haggard expression, then shook his head slowly. “I feel like the Bleakness itself is shredding my insides,” he whispered. “But the doctors say I'll be fine in a few days.”

  Anna took a chair at the foot of his bed, sitting hunched over with her hands on her knees. “Mercy be praised for a Keeper's rapid healing.” Her voice grated in her own ears. “The team's assembling in an hour, focusing on next steps.”

  “You'll forgive me if I don't attend.”