by Sarah Noffke
I nodded.
“Well, I had my team hone in on events connected to you until I found this moment in time. It wasn’t their normal job but they’re trained well enough that they can usually find events related to certain people’s energies,” Trey said.
“Teleporters and news reporters who report on future events. Do you all fly too?” I said, pulling a handkerchief from my jacket pocket and wrapping it around my bleeding palm.
“No, flying would be ridiculous,” he said, a lightness in his voice but none of it present on his face.
“So you wanted to find me. Here I am,” I said, holding my arms out in a presenting manner. “What exactly are you going to do to me now?”
Trey ran his hands through his short blond hair. The guy looked tired but he’d kind of been through a lot thanks to me. “I’m not going to do anything to you. I’m here to ask you a question.”
“How do I want to die? Is that the question?” I said, stretching my compressed back, which was now throbbing from my fall.
“No, I was going to ask you if you wanted a job,” Trey said.
I dared to put my back to this man and walked over to the brick wall. I leaned up against it, kicking one foot up behind me to support my balance. “I suppose you want me to go after Chase. I can’t take back what happened, but I’m off doing jobs for other people. I don’t want to get mixed up in love triangles gone wrong anymore.”
Trey swiveled so he was facing me straight on. “I don’t want you to seek revenge on Chase for me.”
“Allouette then?” I said. The bitch hadn’t died. Apparently God decided he would lose his followers if there was no devil to pray for protection from. I had seen her stalking me in Turkey a week prior. I hightailed it out of that country at once. She’d probably been able to dream travel to a GAD-C and generate her body before it drowned.
“No, I don’t want you for any revenge. Retribution doesn’t work. And it’s not what Eloise would have wanted,” Trey said, his voice catching on his wife’s name. “This job doesn’t involve hurting or lying or stealing.”
I shot him a look of mock confusion. “Well, what else is there?”
“There’s helping people, saving them, and preserving a safer future for everyone,” he said with a passionate conviction.
This guy sounded like he was about to start preaching at me. I didn’t do sermons. “How are your children?” I asked in an attempt to divert wherever this was going. This wasn’t a typical question for me, but I felt a strange obligation to care about this man and his children.
“They’re fine but I had to send them away and split them up,” he said, a new grief springing to his features.
“What?” I said, not having expected that answer.
“They’re being hunted. It was for their protection,” Trey said, and I saw the deep regret in his eyes. “They weren’t safe with me.”
“Oh, Chase, right?” I said, nodding, thinking of how he probably already had Allouette stalking the infants when she wasn’t after me.
“Yes, Chase, but someone else too. Someone as dangerous as him,” he said.
Damn, this guy makes enemies like I do.
“Ren, there are dangers in the world. Dangers that with skills like yours I could fight with greater success.”
“I’m responsible for your wife’s death,” I said, having a hard time with the sentence. “Why would you want to offer me a job?”
Trey blew out a long breath. “I don’t think you knew what you were doing, not until it was already done. Your power has made you calloused to the world around you. I think now you will see things differently. Make decisions differently. I regret that my wife had to be the mistake that made you change, but I think now you will,” Trey said. The look in this man’s eyes was strange to me. He was looking at me directly, and not flinching like most. And then there was something else in his expression. I think it’s called “sincerity,” but I didn’t think it was a real thing. I thought sincerity was a myth that didn’t exist in real people, only those in the bible and Santa Claus and my parents, of course. “I recognize that you’re incredibly powerful and intelligent and have abused that skill,” Trey continued. “I’m offering you a second chance to become something different than what you’ve been. I’m offering you a job to rid this world of some of its evils.”
A chill ran through my sore back at the mention of “a second chance.” The phrase reminded me of my mum’s words on her deathbed. I shook away the feeling. “Some of its evils?” I repeated. “Right, because it’s impossible to stomp out all of them,” I said with a cold laugh. “Trey, I appreciate your ‘make a better future’ mentality but the reality is there will always be evil. Yin and yang. Light and dark. God and devil. You can’t have one without the other.”
“Believe me, I know that,” he said and allowed an edge of the pain I knew he harbored to skip to the surface. “But another very possible reality is that one overtakes the other. The Lucidites clean up the messes, like things the Voyageurs do. In some cases we prevent it from happening. But the balance is wrong right now. And news reports are bleak about the future. Currently we are facing losing to evil but with your help we could have more of an impact. I don’t have anyone with skills like yours on my staff and it’s what we need at this point. You could help me save my children from this evil,” Trey said. This guy had a demeanor about him I’d rarely encountered. He was real. What he said he meant. It was a strange thing to witness after my time with Allouette and Chase.
I regarded Trey for a long few seconds. What would Dahlia think if I took the good guy role? Would she laugh and say it wasn’t me? I blew out a frustrated breath, furious that I was even caring what she’d think. “Look, buddy, I’m sorry about your kids and I’m even sorrier about your wife, but saving the world isn’t my style,” I said, kicking off the wall and strolling back to the cafe.
“So what, are you just going to keep scamming old women to make money and then looking over your shoulder for Chase for the rest of your life?” Trey said to my back.
I had walked off only a few paces. I turned. “How is it that I won’t have to do that working for you? I know crusaders get paid shit since it’s mostly charity work. And Chase or Allouette will find me sooner or later. There’s no safe place.”
“News reporters don’t just report on urgent situations. They also report future lottery numbers, winning horses, and stocks that will become lucrative,” Trey said matter-of-factly.
“So what does that mean for me?” I said, crossing my arms.
“It means I’ll pay you well.”
“Pay me well?” I said, doubt heavy in my tone.
“You’ll be able to keep your multimillionaire status.”
“You can afford to do that?” I said, still in disbelief.
“The Lucidite Institute is extremely well endowed. We have supporters with deep pockets and multiple opportunities for investments every day. What we do and how we live isn’t cheap, and even still we have more money than we know what to do with.”
“Yeah, I know how that goes,” I said.
“And if you took this position then you would be a full-time resident of the Institute and I can promise you Chase and Allouette can’t trespass our grounds,” Trey said, all confidence. “We have top-notch security and are protected from most invaders. Voyageurs especially can’t break in.”
Allouette’s plan did involve me luring Eloise out so I believed that, but this was sounding a little too good to be true. I’d be safe, make millions, and I would be stopping bad guys like me.
“Is there electricity?” I asked.
Trey gave me a look of surprise. “Of course. We live very comfortably.”
“All right, I’ll help you save the bloody world but I’m not wearing a cape or tights.”
Trey nodded. “One more thing though.”
“Of course there is,” I said with an impatient sigh. “Is this when you tell me I’ll have to start being nice to people and having manner
s?”
“No, you can treat people however you like. But I do ask that you don’t use your mind control on innocent people anymore. I can’t have you in the Institute if you’re going to pose a threat to our people,” Trey said.
“But I can insult them and maybe use a bit of hypnotism here and there, right?” I said, angling my head to the side.
Trey seemed to consider me. Then he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. I just wanted to ensure you didn’t force any of our residents to do things they don’t want to.”
“Well, if you mean force them into my bed then you don’t have to worry. Consider me a monk as far as that goes. I’m done with women.”
He extended a hand to me. “Welcome aboard, Ren,” Trey said.
“You don’t want me to shake your hand,” I said flatly.
He let his hand fall to his side. “Right,” he said, probably remembering I have telepathy linked to touch. “I do have one last thing I want to say.”
“Fire away,” I said, realizing that was the first time I didn’t take an opportunity to gain covert information on someone by touching them.
“I want to thank you,” Trey said, his voice a little scratchy all of a sudden.
“Thank me?” I said in disbelief. “For what?”
He brought his blue eyes up from their resting place on the ground and looked at me. “Thank you for bringing my children to me.”
“Oh, well…” I said, scratching the back of my neck, although it didn’t itch. “It was nothing.”
He shook his head at me. “I actually know you sacrificed a great deal to do so. I realize you didn’t have to bring me my children and by doing so you put yourself in extreme danger.”
I didn’t answer, just lowered my eyes to the ground. Feeling good about something I did was weird. It was definitely going to take some getting used to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
In 1997 I became the first official Head Strategist for the Lucidites. I’d never had a title, much less a job. I knew Trey was right, that I’d be safe at the Lucidite Institute. The Institute was an underwater five-story facility protected by both technology and also psychic energy. And in contrast to the Grotte it was like being on a bloody spaceship. The walls were all a brushed stainless steel and the doors were motor operated. The Institute, also unlike the Grotte, was crawling with people. To my dismay they were all quite cheery, but most learned to leave me alone pretty quickly. I may have become a so-called good guy but that didn’t mean I was going to flaunt a toothy grin and a polite manner.
If I had designed my own compound where I trained the brightest minds in the world, it wouldn’t have looked like the Lucidite Institute. The place was cold and gray and reminded me too much of my soul, if I had one that is. If I designed my own compound it would have had fiery red paneled walls and carpet the color of my eyes. I wouldn’t have called it the Lucidite Institute either, but rather Ren’s Lair. And I’d even have scattered a bit of bad guy’s bones I’d defeated around the place. What’s the point in saving the bloody world and not feel like the king of the fucking jungle?
The Institute had originally been constructed using an underwater facility built by the U.S. government. During World War II it had been a testing ground for military warfare. Then after the war they converted it to a place to harbor consciousness and the skills associated with ESP and other Dream Traveler abilities. Of course, once a powerful and self-righteous Dream Traveler got wind of this, he sought to ruin the program. And using technology strong enough to melt all the minds in the White House, that’s exactly what Trey’s predecessor did. He fooled the government into thinking that not only was their project worthless, but also that abandoning the Institute was crucial. Maybe those officials thought there were still dangerous pathogens remaining in the facility from the earlier experiments. Whatever the daft scientists believed, they all loaded up and left. Later their minds were wiped clean and all evidence related to the Institute disappeared. That’s how the place I called my home of almost two decades became the property of the Lucidites.
During my time living in this underwater silver box, I was assigned executive housing in the residential wing of the Institute. It wasn’t the Ritz Carlton but it didn’t have any rats either. Actually what I missed most during my time at the Institute were windows. I missed sunlight that was invited to stream through a transparent surface. But what was a blighty like me really going to complain about? It’s not like I grew up in Peavey or London with an abundance of sunshine. Hell, I’ve never even had a sunburn.
I was also assigned my own department space which I called Scapes Escapes for no reason at all. I could be quite random at times. And I had a team of twenty young recruits all eager to do whatever I said. The news reporters sent urgent reports straight to our department. Then I decided how to use the talent at my disposal to intervene to create optimal results. It actually was more challenging than anything I’d ever done. I loved every second of it, but I hid it well.
“Billy, I want you to create a disturbance on flight 1212,” I said, pointing to a boy who sat at the conference table in Scapes Escapes. I’d been working for six months and had already made significant strides.
“My name is Larry,” the boy said. That’s what he always said. He hadn’t caught on yet.
“All right, Billy,” I said and he bristled with quiet anger. “The news report says the mechanics rush the repairs on the aircraft and that’s why it has engine failure over the Atlantic. I want you to make a ruckus when you board the plane. Throw a rotten tantrum. Chain yourself to the plane saying you’re making a stand against high airfare prices. Do whatever it takes to give those mechanics a chance to do the repairs properly.”
“But, sir, what if I get arrested? Will someone come and bail me out?” Billy said.
I stopped and regarded him with a long irate look. “I’m trying to save lives. I don’t have time to get your ass out of jail for being a stupid activist.”
He cowered, sharing a commiserate expression with the girl across the table.
“All right, next,” I said, swiveling my gaze to a girl halfway down the table. A dozen snotty prodigy kids with various talents were staring back at me. “Sally, you’re to travel to Budapest. There’s a terrorist attack happening there in twenty-one hours. Using your cryogenic skill, I want you to freeze the bomb hidden in a building and then tip off the authorities. The terrorists are going to get away but—”
“Shouldn’t I tip off the authorities first so they can catch the terrorists?” Sally asked in a dreadful, nasally voice.
I flung the rolling chair out from in front of me and plopped down in it. “I forgot that Trey gave you the job as the Head Strategist for the Institute,” I said. “I forgot you’re the one who’s in charge of this department. That you’re the one who makes all the bloody decisions. I forgot that at your discretion my ass could be fired and kicked out of the fucking Institute.” I then spun around three times in the chair like a kid trying to get dizzy. When I stopped I stared at Sally, whose eyes were wide with shock.
“I’m so-so-so sorry, sir,” she stuttered. “I didn’t mean to undermine your authority.”
“Oh no, you just think you know better than me. Get this, little girl. You can live another bloody lifetime and you won’t know better than me. I’m a master at strategy. Hence the bloody title. Got it?” I said.
She nodded, biting on her bottom lip. I could have said “boo” and she probably would have burst out crying. I considered it.
Instead I said, “After that I want you to stop into Café Du Monde in New Orleans. Order a dozen beignets.”
I paused until I knew she couldn’t help but ask her dumb, curious question. “What is that going to do, sir?” she said. “Will it delay an act that would lead to an accident?”
“No,” I said, sounding insulted. “Just bring them back here. I want a bloody pastry.”
***
I did as Trey requested and didn’t use my skills for any evil ma
nipulations while in the Institute. Of course, evil is a relative term. What I think shouldn’t be considered sinister is probably a bit different than what most people would classify under that title. So I might have played a few pranks, hypnotized a few individuals until they passed out and verbally abused everyone I came in contact with. Trey didn’t seem to mind my antics since my small and efficient department was more successful than ever before. And I had to have a way to entertain myself by being naughty when I was tired of saving the fucking world and running from my bloody demons. And of course, the one thing I couldn’t get away from was the woman’s death I was culpable for. Trey forgave me and yet I found it impossible to forgive myself. I think that’s the very reason he made his children one of my chief responsibilities. In Trey’s well-meaning heart he believed I’d think I was atoning for my sins by protecting his offspring. I didn’t think that, but that’s probably because I’ve never liked the idea of being saved. Not in any sense of the word. I guess being damned sounds like a better approach. There’s nowhere else to fall to but down.
One of my main responsibilities, while at the Institute, was to check up on Trey’s children, who both lived at separate foster families to ensure their safety. A man more akin to a parasite was bent on killing them. He was almost as powerful as Chase and way more ambitious. Some years later, when Trey’s children were almost grown they’d enter the Institute and I’d teach them how to fight and survive evil. And his daughter went on to kill that parasite, saving humanity, but that isn’t my story to tell. It’s hers. She’s the same girl I saw on that day I delivered two snotty infants to Trey. His daughter would follow me around in some way or another for a good part of my life. I thought she was going to be the death of me. Turned out I was wrong. She’d be the one who freed me.
