That provided a little boost to my fading metabolism. “I thought you’d never ask,” I mugged. “But… can we make some sandwiches, or something?”
~
Lina lived in a large house near Abbeque Lake. It was one of the most expensive neighborhoods in town. Her driveway was the size of my front yard.
“Wow.”
She smiled and looked away from me for a moment. “Money and politics…”
We went through the front door and into the living room. Two people looked up from a huge television.
“Hello, kids!” Despite the late hour and the bathrobe she wore, the woman’s hair and make-up were perfect. She rose smiling, and held out her hand. “I’m Mrs. Porter, Lina’s mother. You must be Nathan!”
I shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Porter.”
A young man got off the couch. He looked about my age, but it was hard to be sure. I could see there was something different about him. He stood stiffly, almost at attention.
“Full name!” His voice was slightly slurred, and while he didn’t exactly yell, I felt compelled to answer.
“Uh, Nathan Andrew Charters…”
He nodded, a snap of his head. “Six. Equable. Kind. Reliable. Optimistic.” He spun on his heel and went back to the television.
Lina took my hand. “That’s my brother Tim. He’s got a real flair for numerology, that kid…”
Mrs. Porter said, “He’s a special boy.” She gave me a very direct look.
I understood. “Nice to meet you, Tim.”
Tim shot his hand into the air and let it drop back down.
Lina pulled me away. “We’re gonna get a snack in the kitchen, mom.”
“All right.”
We went through a large dining room and into an expansive, gleaming kitchen. I sat down at a small side table. Lina immediately busied herself putting together some sandwiches.
I didn’t know where her head was, but I was a million miles away. My mind raced with what Byron had told us. As much as I tried not to be paranoid, I felt in my gut that Tyndale Labs was up to no good.
I had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
Lina closed the refrigerator and looked at me. “You’re all quiet.”
“Sorry.” I smiled through my nerves. “You’ve… it’s a nice house.”
“We’re made of money.” She shrugged and blushed. “There goes my punk rock reputation.”
My laugh was almost too weak to fall out of my mouth.
She gave me a shaky look. “What’s going on, honey?”
I couldn’t remember her ever calling me ‘honey,’ and we’d only been going out a week. I cradled my head in my hands and sighed before looking up at her.
“I have no idea, at all, what I’m supposed to do for Teslowski.” My voice shook a little. “I’m totally freaked out. All week long, I’ve been telling my mom to chill out, and now this stuff happens to the only other Sovereign person I know, right here.” I swallowed and got it together.
“I have to do something, right?”
She put a package of deli ham down on the counter, stepped to my side, and kissed the top of my head. “You almost sound like you don’t want to.”
“No, I do. I mean, I have to, you know?” I shook my head. “Pretty ironic – why couldn’t it have been Jason who was the other Sovereign in town?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Oh, sure. The power to… what was it? Tear off people’s heads and crap down their throats?”
That made me laugh, and in that laughter, some of the weight fell away. Lina did that, and I felt very grateful for her. I wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze.
“We’ll sort it out,” she said.
I stood up and gave her a quick kiss. It was a little thrill, with her mother and brother right in the other room.
“Thanks for being with me, Lina.”
She touched my cheek with her long fingers. “I should thank you, Nathan.”
“Huh?”
“You were, like, totally cool with Tim. Totally normal.”
“Well, sure.” I didn’t quite get it. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She put both hands on my shoulders. “Nate, it’s tough truth time.” The twinkle in her eyes contrasted with her serious tone. “You should know that I’ve had other boyfriends.”
Car Meunetti’s face immediately came to mind. I pushed him away and made myself chuckle. “I guess I kinda figured that.”
Her mouth twisted. “I’ll take that up with you later, Mister Charters.” She took my hands in hers. “Point is, they weren’t all so nice to Tim. He’s different, y’know?”
I laughed before I could stop myself. “Um, hello? You’re going out with the poster boy for different! Who am I to judge?”
I was shocked to see her eyes tear up. “You are amazing, you know that?”
I could feel the heat rise in my face. I shrugged and picked at a bit of stray lunch meat. “I just… you know, I know what it’s like, you know? I mean, at least your brother looks normal, right?”
She squeezed my hands. “I know you don’t look normal. You’re… you fascinate me, Nate. I think you’re gorgeous.” She kissed me, and wiped her eyes.
“Let’s eat.”
I was ravenous, and besides, eating would let us both gracefully get through the moment we’d just had. We sat down at the table with ham sandwiches and glasses of milk. I threw chunks of food down my throat and finished way before Lina.
I found myself smiling.
“Gorgeous, huh?”
She beamed. “Yup.”
“Well.” I looked at my plate for some distraction, but I’d cleaned it too well. I managed to meet her eyes. “You should know... I can't believe I'm with anyone so gorgeous.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Face it, tiger – you hit the jackpot.”
I looked back down at the empty plate. “Um… so… your brother. How’s he do it, anyway?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really know. It used to be that he could just do really quick math, you know, in his head. He’s got… he’s autistic.
“Then, my mother,” she rolled her eyes and made circular motions with her index finger next to her temple, “she got into the whole numerology and astrology thing a couple years ago. Tim just soaked it up. He’s got the whole thing memorized.”
“That’s rad.”
She looked wistfully toward the living room. “Yeah. I guess. But, I mean, it would be a whole lot better if he was…” She shook her head. Her mousse had lost some of its strength, and she brushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes. “I love my brother.”
She lightly kicked me under the table. “Besides, kitty cat, doing some tricks with numbers and letters is nothing compared with what you and Byron can do!”
I pursed my lips. “It’s a trade-off. I spend a lot of time wishing I didn’t look the way I do – not that I don’t appreciate your opinion of me, that is.”
“Shut up!”
“Seriously, you don’t know what it’s like! One look at me, and everyone knows I’m different. People always think there’s something wrong with me. For all the good it’s done me, maybe there is.”
She kicked me harder this time. “Ixnay on the elfsay itypay, Nate. Have some perspective.”
I nodded, a little ashamed. “Yeah, you’re right.” At least I had all my faculties, and then some.
“Keep in mind,” she added, “that those crazy eyes of yours got this girl’s attention in the best possible way. Right?”
I smiled. “And I still can’t believe that.”
After meeting Tim, I began to understand. Lina didn’t seem to have any preconceived notions about people. No prejudice in her, not even the natural amount I thought everyone carried around, including me. I figured that was due to having Tim as a brother. I decided I’d have to find ways to thank him.
“You’d better believe it, Nate,” Lina said quietly. “Get used to it. Get used to me.”
Fr
om The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty
Over the weekend, I tried to be normal. I slept in, rode my bike around, mowed the lawn, read, chatted with Lina and Mel on the phone, watched non-Sovereign stuff on the television when I could find it... but I couldn’t get the thing with Byron out of my head. Sunday night I went to bed and stared at the ceiling, still clueless, until I fell asleep.
Monday morning at school, the news of the Sovereign Compromise continued to influence the curriculum in all my classes. Worse, I kept overhearing kids use the word “Sovereign” and my name in the same sentence.
My run-in with Terrance Felder the week before gave me a little reputation boost at last. Instead of people openly approaching me out of curiosity, or just to make fun, I had some breathing room. People who might have been casually cruel to me two weeks ago avoided looking at me. Funny thing is, I couldn’t decide if I liked that better.
The whole vibe had me more tense than I normally am at school, and tension makes me burn calories faster. I was trying to stay awake in Mr. Byrd’s third period Algebra class when an announcement on the PA system summoned me to the office.
Byrd wrote a hall pass and handed it to me with a mildly curious look. I’d been to the office more in the last few days than in my entire academic career, and I guess my teachers noticed.
Ms. Elp met me outside the office. She put a hand on my shoulder and led me in.
“Nate, there’s a gentleman here to see you,” she said. “A doctor.”
Her hand suddenly felt like a clamp. “A – a doctor?”
As we went into her office, a thin man in a dark suit stood up from his chair and extended a narrow hand. “Nice to meet you, Nate. I’m Doctor Brenhurst. Call me Les.”
His small eyes darted with glittering twitches. He was studying me, and unlike most people, did nothing to hide it.
I ignored his hand. “I don’t feel sick.” It was a lie. My stomach somersaulted in my belly and I was suddenly sweating.
He smiled, thin and quick. “No, of course you don’t. No one thinks you are.” He gestured to the other chair, and I reluctantly sat. Ms. Elp settled in behind her desk.
“But you are very… interesting,” Brenhurst said.
I kept my mouth shut. My legs jumped. I wanted to run.
Brenhurst’s smile dropped a notch. “Well. Aren’t you curious about yourself, Nate?”
“Why would I be?”
“In light of recent events.”
“Like what?”
I played it dumb. Let him fish.
Ms. Elp spoke up. “Your mother will be here soon, Nathan. You might feel more comfortable then.”
Brenhurst’s smile flattened further. “That’s great. She hasn’t returned my calls, so I’m looking forward to meeting her.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Finally.”
I looked out the office window and tried to keep from leaping out of the chair. This guy’s been calling the house? Why didn’t my mother say anything?
“Well.” Brenhurst tapped his knees with the tips of his fingers. For some reason, this very precise gesture scared me. He made me feel like prey.
My mother burst in less than three minutes later. I know this because I watched the clock to avoid looking at Brenhurst.
“What the hell is going on?”
Brenhurst stood up and tried the handshake again. “Mrs. Charters, I’m Les Brenhurst, head of research at Tyndale Labs. I’ve left you a few messages…”
I watched her pupils dilate and her nostrils flare. “Tyndale Labs, now, is it?” She sneered at him. The cords in her neck stood out.
I looked at Brenhurst. His eyes hardened for a split second before he forced a laugh and dragged the smile back to his lips. “Mrs. Charters, if you could…”
He reached for her. She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” Her scent carried a powerful mix of anxiety and fearful hate that seemed to be out of proportion, even as a reaction to this guy. She glared at Ms. Elp.
“I’m taking my son home. We didn’t agree to this meeting.”
Ms. Elp started to speak, but Brenhurst and my mother dominated the scene. He held up his hands and laughed again. “We only want to help your son...”
“He doesn’t need your help.” My mother took my hand. “Let’s go.”
From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty One
In spite of everything, I was embarrassed. What if anyone saw me? I wanted to escape my mother’s grip as she pulled me through the door, but it would have taken the kind of strength that would hurt her hand. We were out of the school, down the steps, and into the parking lot in seconds.
“Man,” I said, “that guy…”
“Not yet,” she snapped.
I shut my mouth. Once we were in the car and she very deliberately locked the doors, I looked at her.
“He had no business,” she said. I had a hard time remembering she wasn’t angry at me. “I’m tempted to sue the ass off of this school, and Elp, and Tyndale Labs…”
I found myself defending Ms. Elp. “Well, at least she called you.”
She stabbed the key into the ignition and started the car. “This is exactly what we were worried about. Do you see it now?”
She didn’t know the half of it. I debated telling her about Byron Teslowski’s meeting with Brenhurst last week.
I didn’t say anything.
As we pulled onto Abbeque Valley Parkway, my mother said, “I’m taking you out of school.” When I gasped, she said, “You can do the same as Lina, do home study.”
“But…”
“It’s not open to discussion.”
I think my indignation was an automatic response. As we drove in silence and I tossed it around in my head, I recognized I didn’t mind the idea so much at all. What had going to school ever brought me but unwanted attention, abuse, and grief?
I was a smart kid. I’d end up with a lot more time. And with Lina on home study, too, this might actually have advantages.
As if leaving school would automatically give me a normal life. There was still this Brenhurst guy, and Byron was still going to Tyndale Labs on Friday, even if my mother would never let me get into the same predicament.
I looked at her. She still carried the same mix of fear and righteous rage she’d had in Elp’s office.
“Mom, what’s the deal with that Brenhurst guy?”
“What do you mean?”
I tried to gather information from her scent. “I mean, he really pissed you off. Almost like you knew the guy.”
“Oh, I know him, all right,” she said. “I know the type. Slimy opportunist. A government man if I ever saw one.” She looked like she wanted to spit. “And I’ve seen more than enough.”
“Government?”
“Or... corporate – it doesn’t matter. I’m going to find out what this Tyndale Labs is all about. I’m absolutely making those calls I was thinking about. We’ll see what the Sovereign Compromise says about being solicited like this.”
I noticed my mother kept changing her mind on the issue of my status. “Um… I thought I wasn’t supposed to say I was a Sovereign.”
She glared at me. I looked out the window and kept my mouth shut the rest of the way home.
Lester Brenhurst – Four
The meeting with the Charters bitch had not gone well. He hardly expected his appearance at the school to put the Charters at ease, but that could have been avoided if she'd just returned his calls.
Her reaction had been far worse than expected.
What did she know? What had her husband told her, before he lost his mind? Not knowing created the worst kind of frustration. Brenhurst drove back to Tyndale in a tight fury.
When he got to the office, Tamara said, “Someone from PrenticeCambrian called. I left –”
He shot past her, dropped his briefcase on his desk, turned on his heel, and made for the sub-level elevator. He palmed the security sensor and stabbed the down button twice, just to have something to hit. Today was not a good day to re
port back to Prentice fucking Cambrian.
“No calls. Clear my day. The operatives are here.” The elevator doors opened. Brenhurst stepped inside and spun around. “Do you understand, Tamara?”
He saw her nod just before the doors closed. Alone in the elevator, he removed his glasses and pinched at the bridge of his nose. Lucille Charters' face, twisted and red with anger, floated in his memory.
“Fucking bitch,” he muttered. “You've made this worse. You have.”
The elevator took him four floors below street level. The corridors were simple concrete here, lit by bare fluorescents. Brenhurst passed three wide steel doors and opened the fourth.
When he entered the room, two men at the conference table inside stood quickly. Brenhurst appraised them. One blond, one redhead, both upwards of six feet and two hundred fifty pounds. They had no obvious augmentations.
“Dr. Brenhurst?” The blond one said. “I'm agent Daniel Turban. This is agent Earl Pratt.”
He nodded. “I haven't received your files yet, gentlemen. Are you military?”
Agent Pratt glanced down, then back up. “I was in... corrections, sir. Before.”
Meaning he was a felon. Probably a lifer, possibly on Death Row. Brenhurst could wait for the file to find out what his crimes had been. It really didn't matter.
Agent Turban said, “I was at Langley, sir. Tempest Team.”
Brenhurst nodded. He really didn't care. Criminals, assassins... once they went to the Ranch and took the Regimen, their old lives were over.
“Please activate your augmentations, gentlemen. I'd like to see what I've been sent.”
Agent Turban said, “Uh, begging your pardon, sir, but our augmentations will destroy our clothing.”
Both men were dressed in crisp black business suits.
“Very well. Your augmentations are physical?”
“Yes sir. Retractable blades, sir. Reinforced bone with horn.” Agent Turban allowed a broad smile to slip across his face. He was proud of what they'd done to him.
“Speed and strength?”
Turban nodded. “Yes sir – to support the armament.”
The Sovreign Era (Book 1): Brave Men Run Page 13
