Halfblood Journey
Page 29
“How do you like our guest?”
“Like him? What makes you think I like him?” She said, her pitch rising.
Next to her, Temper smiled just the tiniest bit. Inwardly, Ian sighed. Teenage girls.
He said, pretending not to see her blush in the dim compartment, “Not like like, just like. You helped him out earlier, right? While I was working on salvaging what we could from the building?”
“Yeah. Um, sorry. Of course. Yeah, he’s nice, really smart and a good doctor. I can’t believe he’s leaving with so many patients that need ongoing treatment, like that woman with the burns.”
“Anyone with a serious condition went to the hospital, so they are fine.”
“Really? Well, I mean, that’s good. Of course, I still don’t know why he is going with us.”
“We’re taking him home, to the Capital. We are heading kind of that way, so Scythe agreed to drop him off.”
“Okay. I guess that makes sense.” She looked toward the front of the truck when it jerked them in their seats and started to move forward. “How long are we driving?”
“Two days, and straight through, which means we will hardly stop.”
“Wow. That’s a long time to be stuck in here. I hope Scythe will lend me his computer or one of his books.”
“He probably will. It’s still late, or early I guess, so if you want to lie down, you can. I should have kept your sleeping bag, sorry. I’ll give you my jacket.”
“Thanks, maybe later.”
Ian nodded and left it at that. His thoughts strayed to the woman next to his daughter and the visit she had paid them after she had heard back from her superiors in the Scere.
“I have been told to watch and report, with the understanding that I will be pulled within a week for another assignment. As okin to a Kin citizen, I would not be allowed to interrogate, but merely observe. However, Scythe's status as Kin is not clear, so interrogation may be allowable. I have been given the flexibility to decide.”
“What have you decided?” Scythe asked.
“I have decided to honor your father’s heritage.”
“Thank you.”
Ian had asked her then, “As Scythe’s okin, can she be abducted?”
“Abducted is a strong term, Ian Young, but,” she added when he made to object, “appropriate from your point of view, I am afraid. To answer your question, I don’t know.”
“May I ask,” he said after a moment’s silence, “do we have the right to know what you will report about us?”
“As Humans, no, you do not have the right to any information that I gather. You have, in fact, very few rights, as a people. However, I have no qualms with telling you what I will report, if that is what you wish.”
Scythe was clearly shocked by her statement, “You will?”
“I will.”
“I think,” he said, frowning, “that you are not supposed to do that.”
She shrugged.
“Temper,” Scythe had said, bowing his head, “you have been exceedingly kind to us. Thank you.”
She bowed her head, accepting his thanks.
Sitting across from her in the truck, Ian thought that she was a particularly interesting and compassionate person, the type he would have never believed worked for an organization like the Scere. He had hated them since he first learned of their existence, and not just because of what they had done to his family. He hated what they had represented to him: the blatant use of power over those unable to defend themselves. However, here was a woman doing her best to live by a certain honorable code within that structure. She couldn’t change the system, but she could try to positively influence it in whatever small way she could. Since her small choices made a huge difference to his family, he found that he wanted to thank her too, not only for what she did for him, but for what she did with her life.
Impulsively, he said aloud, “Excuse me, Watcher Temper.”
“Yes?”
“Scythe thanked you, for our family, but I would like to thank you too.”
“You have not heard my report, Mr. Ian Young.”
“No, but whatever it is, it will be fair and I am grateful for that. Also, you have gone out of your way for us on a few occasions, done things you weren’t required to do…”
“I did nothing that wasn’t allowable.”
“I know, but not everyone would have handled our case like you have. Isn’t that correct?”
“It is,” she admitted.
“So, please accept my thanks, no matter what the result is.”
She nodded, “I accept your hand, offered in friendship.”
Feeling more comfortable with the woman than he had before, he asked, “What do you believe will happen?”
“I have already told you that I don’t know, but it seems you are asking for my best guess, based on my experience and analysis of trends, is that correct?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, smiling. She reminded him of Scythe.
She sighed, looking across at Mercy who was listening avidly. “The girl is a child of a family of documented, high-level power users. The statistical probability alone is almost a strong enough argument for proof of power. My primary source so far is Adan, who was able to identify a significant protective ability. Then, there is her own testimony, given to Captain Reave regarding her dreams, as well as what hints were given by the Human Grant Wells to the border patrol. Her mother is rumored to have some type of similar power, although it is unverified. Your powers are strong and well documented, although the Scere seems to have no interest in you at the moment.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not interested in them either,” he said, trying to make a joke of it but mostly failing.
“Yes, your history makes that clear. My analysis isn’t focused on whether she has power. It is a given that she already has some gift that will probably develop into a significant talent. My job is to determine the extent of her current abilities and the Scere will determine if they want to try to utilize them or not. If they want to have control over her power, then they will try to influence her, one way or another. Most people are willing to work for the Scere in some capacity; for them, it is a job like any other. However, it is different for people with rare talents, like your own, or Scythe’s. If someone with a rare ability does not wish to work for them, then it becomes a matter of coercion.”
“I’m familiar with that particular scenario.”
“Yes, although your own situation was fairly unusual, as you refused to accept any type of association and still managed to walk away with your freedom. I believe you owe that freedom in part to Scythe, isn’t that right?”
“He never told us the details of his arrangement with them, but we suspected it.” Ian hoped she could give him some information about Scythe’s disappearance years ago. By the time they had heard about his involvement with the Scere, he had already accepted and was deployed on his first assignment; shortly afterwards, he took another. Soon, he was working more and more for the Scere, returning home less frequently, contacting them and his friends in Poinsea less often, until they rarely heard from him. Eventually, they stopped hearing from him altogether.
The Young family hadn’t failed to notice that they were never contacted again by the Scere, even though it had been pressuring them heavily before that.
“Did he make a deal with them that involved our family?”
“That I don’t know, but it was under consideration for a time. They were highly motivated to recruit him, but also reticent to force him, as the Eler’s experiences with you and your sister were such a disaster. So it was left to the Hedeler to see if they could bring him over, and they did. It seems a logical conclusion that the outcome of your own conflict was to be a deciding factor in Scythe’s ultimate decision to join the Scere willingly.”
“But,” Mercy said, speaking for the first time, “we didn’t want that.” She looked from Temper to her father, her hurt turning to anger. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
Mercy’s realized with a start that he was talking about her own rash actions, and her mouth dropped open, “Oh.” She hadn’t realized that what she had done was very similar to Scythe’s disappearance five years ago. While she thought about that, Temper continued.
“In any case, if the Scere decide that they do not want to make use of Mercy, then they will determine if her power poses a threat to them. If not, she will be free to do whatever she likes. However, if they feel her power is too strong to be left alone...well, that is not a situation you want to find yourself in.”
“No. We will keep that in mind.”
“Please do.”
“If…” Mercy began, looking over at her father, “If Scythe hadn’t had any power, then he would have been able to stay with us, right? Or, at least in Poinsea.”
Ian shrugged, “Who knows? It is what it is, Mercy.”
She turned her head sharply, staring moodily at the doors, and grumbled, “It’s like a curse.”
Temper, sensing the end of the conversation, leaned her head back against the truck wall and closed her eyes.
Ian knew that Mercy wasn’t just talking about Scythe, and he frowned. He wished he could take her pain away, but he couldn’t, and probably wouldn’t if it were possible, do anything about the gifts they were born with. For himself, he could choose to not use them if he wanted to. However, Mercy’s visions were not something she could control, any more than her mother could. They could hardly be called a gift, since they were rarely welcome and often centered on something unpleasant or difficult. Further, it was hard to determine if what she saw could be avoided. The latest one where she was shot at was a perfect example of the frustration Ian was feeling with that.
Scythe had told him earlier that night that he had seen the cuts on Mercy’s arms in the vision, and that they had been still red, just recently healed. He had been relieved, because at that time, she didn’t have an injury like that; he hoped that it meant that the vision could be inaccurate in at least one and maybe more ways. However, the accident with Orin meant that her vision was now likely occur within the next week. They had talked about what to do, and wondered if the vision was inevitable, especially since Heron had unexpectedly shown up, needing to be delivered to the very city in which Scythe had determined the raid would take place: the Capital.
Despite the rising number of coincidences that pointed to accepting the vision, they opted to try to avoid Mercy’s involvement in the raid. Their team would not go to the city, but keep to its original goal: Yawning Valley, a bordertown several hundred miles from the Capital. The plan was to have one of their team split away from them, take Heron to Quo Ire alone and then meet up with the rest afterwards. Neither one could imagine what events could occur which could transport Mercy hundreds of miles out of their control, but the last day had shaken their disbelief in the vision’s inevitability.
“I’m going to go ahead and try to get some sleep, okay?” Mercy said, interrupting his thoughts. She unfastened her belt and accepted the jacket he quickly removed and rolled up into a pillow for her.
“Thanks, Dad.” She smiled and lay down on the floor, squirming around for a bit and trying to get comfortable on the hard floor. Finally accepting that it was as good as it was going to get, she lay still, her hand casually covering his shoe.
He risked a little rule breaking and sent her a swift message with a tiny ribbon that extended from his ankle to her hand. I love you, sweetheart.
Making sure to not use any of her own power, she sent him a similar message, which he would hold close in the long hours ahead.
This is not a curse, he told her, sharing his sincere wonder and enjoyment of their special bond.
She nodded, although it looked like she was just working the makeshift pillow in. I know but this is not what is causing all of our problems. This is not what is putting us in danger. She squirmed, because a thought had strayed past her guard and she knew that he had seen it. It wasn’t 'us' she was worried about.
Ian sighed and laid his head back, closing his eyes and trying for a little rest himself. Good night, Mercy. Try to sleep. There will be plenty of time to worry later. For now, go ahead and dream about something nice.
He felt her accept the challenge and he pulled away before he could inadvertently peek. Thinking that he should follow his own advice, he let thoughts of his wife Faith spread out before him and picked them up one by one, enjoying the memories each brought him.
Chapter 18
“Scythe, there’s a call here for you,” Summer’s voice sounded in his helmet.
“From?” He didn’t expect any communication from the Captain and hadn’t planned to contact them until after they had completed the first two steps of their objective. In fact…“Wait, what band are they using?”
“Short local. We aren’t linked or sending any signal.”
Scythe frowned. An open call that anyone could monitor would be the only way to get a hold of them, since they were running dark, and it would only be possible until they moved out of range. Captain Reave would only use that in an emergency as a response from Scythe’s team would give away their location.
“What does it say?”
“It’s from Huran security. Here it is…” A static filled message crackled across the closed link from the truck to Scythe.
“This is Huran Sec. We’ve got a civ here that claims to have information about rebel activity but will only give it to Special Agent Scythe. Name is Irving...Irving Vorn...Vorsh. Subject will be held here until picked up for detention in Juniper.”
“That’s it. It repeats every two minutes. Interesting choice of words,” Summer chuckled, obviously picking up on the same thing Scythe had.
Every two minutes it was broadcasting that Irving was offering information about the rebels. Scythe shook his head. It might as well have been an execution order.
Scythe considered for a long moment the possible consequences of both ignoring and responding to the opportunity to get vital information. Then he weighed the chances of it being a set-up of some type. Although the scales tended to dip on the side of 'trap,' he decided to risk it. This couldn’t have been one of their well-planned maneuvers, so it might be just the type of break they had been hoping for when they started applying pressure on the rebels. Besides, the man was in custody; he wouldn’t be a threat.
He slowed down and turned the motorcycle around. “I’m returning to Huran. Will meet up with you by this evening. Do not leave the route we decided on.”
Summer responded, “Good hunting.”
He flicked a switch on his handlebar and spoke to Heron, “Hold on, we’re going to be moving pretty quick for a bit.” He leaned forward and began accelerating.
Within fifteen minutes, he rolled into the now evacuated entrance to Huran. Although he had already passed the security check at the gate, he was approached immediately by two Kin who didn’t lower their weapons until he identified himself by pulling off his helmet.
“Sorry,” the first one said. “We’re a little on edge with this one.”
“No problem. I’m kind of in a hurry, so can I see him now?” Scythe glanced at his name tag, “Kreg?”
“This way. We’ve got him at one of the tables over by the mess.” He headed to the doorway.
Scythe turned to Heron, who was undoing his chinstrap, “Leave it on while you are here, okay?”
Heron nodded and refastened it loosely. He stood up, putting his hand on the bike to steady himself. Scythe felt bad for him; they had been going upwards of 100 miles an hour, and the man was bound to be a little shaken up. However, he didn’t have time to wait for him to settle his stomach. He took the young man’s elbow to lend him a hand and followed the security officer. Heron did not seem to have a problem accepting help, something that Scythe appreciated.
He said to the second man, one he re
cognized, who remained in the entranceway, “Don’t leave my bike unguarded, Torin.”
“I won't.”
“Thanks.”
Scythe said to Kreg as they crossed the courtyard, “You have stopped the message, right?”
“Just about to. There he is, I’ll leave it to you.” He turned and jogged toward one of the other exits.
Scythe approached the man who was hunched over in his chair, his hands tied in front of him on the table. The two Human guards that stood by him straightened up as he neared.
Finally noticing him, Irv looked up and he met Scythe’s eyes with a peculiar glare. Scythe stopped, holding Heron still and narrowing his eyes. Something was off about the man. Since he had been in his mind, he had a feel for what Irving was like, and the way he sat there and the look he was giving Scythe was definitely not right, somehow.
Scythe said to Heron, “I want you to wait by the door we came in by. Don’t go out, unless I tell you to, and don’t leave my line of sight. Do you understand?”
Heron nodded and turned around, walking directly to the door.
Scythe asked the guards, “Did you search him?”
“Yeah, he doesn’t have anything,” the woman said, picking up on Scythe’s caution and frowning at the quiet man at the table. “Just what he was wearing.”
The second guard said, “No weapons, just his car keys.”
Scythe stepped forward. “Up, Irv, against the wall.”
“All I have is information…”
“Just do it.”