Fear Power

by C. C. Bolick

  “First contact,” I mumbled without looking at Agent Dallas. “I’ve heard agents mention aliens, but no specifics. Someone always changes the subject so I don’t get exposed to your top-secret agenda.”

  “Everyone from that planet has the power to teleport,” Sylvia said in an even voice. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  I looked from Sylvia to Travis, who stared at the table. He couldn’t meet my eyes. I turned back to Sylvia. “Are you saying Travis is an alien?”

  Travis raised his eyes and cocked his head to the side as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His smile didn’t warm my insides as it had before. “Only half, but don’t hold that half against me.”

  Chapter Five

  After the meeting, Travis took me to a restaurant that made the best breakfast burritos I’d ever tasted. I didn’t say a word as we sat at a table for two. A waitress stopped for our orders and I pointed to the menu instead of speaking.

  For the next ten minutes, we stared at each other. My anger flared and his eyes held… relief. Relief that his lies were finally over. With each second, my anger grew. When he smiled and reached for his glass, I almost stormed out.

  “You picked my favorite place,” I said.

  “A strange way to say you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  His smile widened. “Good. You shouldn’t skip meals because you’re mad at me.”

  “You knew I was hungry?”

  “I heard your stomach growling during the meeting.”

  “Wow, just wow.” I opened my straw and weaved the paper between my fingers. Anything to keep me from looking at Travis.

  I pictured the meeting—all of the faces around the table, every detail I wasn’t supposed to hear.

  Dad knew who killed Mama. Instead of our wreck being a hit and run, the man had a name. He’d also managed to hurt at least one other person—a woman who was now working for Louis. Picturing her face made me shiver.

  Louis had aliens working for him, people who had the power to teleport.

  Travis was an alien.

  Yep, that summed it up.

  “What about Louis?” I asked. “Do we sit here and wait for him to attack again?”

  “After leaving the arena, Louis returned to his family home is Spain. He’s back on the agency’s radar and we’re watching every step he makes.”

  “Can’t the agency arrest him?”

  “For now, Sylvia wants to follow his movements and see where he leads us.”

  “Can’t his men teleport in here and grab me?”

  “To teleport here, they’d have to see the inside of these walls first. That’s the way my power works. I can only visit a place I’ve already seen.” Travis put an elbow on the table. His head rested on his palm. “I hope knowing the truth doesn’t change our relationship.”

  “Our relationship?” I choked. “I don’t know if I should laugh or cry right now.”

  “I’m still the same person I was at the start of the meeting. You just know a little more about my past.”

  I slapped a hand to my forehead. “I told you about wanting to work for the space program and you’re from another planet. You must have thought I sounded so stupid.”

  “I’m not from another planet,” he said. “I’ve never left Earth and I’ve never thought you sounded stupid.”

  “You lied to me. Again.” The betrayal I felt after learning the truth about him being an agent felt nothing like this new betrayal. “You lied about your history with Dad, about this agency.”

  “I came clean when the time was right. You would have thought I was nuts when we first met.”

  “I did think you were nuts. With every mile you drove, the lies kept coming.”

  “We’re not going to start down that road again, are we?”

  “I guess we never got off that road. You’re still lying just like when you picked me up from the office that day back in Wynder.”

  Travis stretched with a sly glance around to make sure no one was watching. “It was an omission of truth.”

  “They’re the same, Travis.”

  “I don’t like to lie, but an omission of truth can be an agent’s best friend.”

  “You’re not convincing me.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want from me?”

  “The truth. Are you from another planet?”

  “I was born here in Atlanta. The base wasn’t underground yet, but my mother delivered me on the old version of the med-level.”

  “But you’re an alien?”

  “I seriously doubt that word is politically correct. How about half-breed?”

  I scrunched my nose. “I’m sure half-breed is even less politically correct.”

  “My mom was human. My dad was from this other planet. He’s the reason I can teleport and see the future.”

  “Are you sure about your mom? Mine never had a power that I knew about and then I find out she was one of the most powerful people on the planet. How weird is that?”

  “My mom was human,” he said. “It’s why she died.”

  “How did she die?”

  He took a deep breath. “Angel’s dad.”

  “Agent Lockhart?”

  “No, her real dad. Gabriel Decker was a vampire. He killed my mom to feed his thirst for blood. Once his venom flowed through her veins, there was no hope of her survival. That’s why Angel’s a vampire.”

  “There was no way to save her?”

  Travis shook his head. “My dad loved her—it’s one of the few things I’m sure of about him. He had powers the team didn’t know about, even your dad. He had access to technology this planet has never developed. If there was a way to save her, any possible way, he would have found it.”

  “Did your dad go back to this other planet? Is that why he disappeared?”

  “Twelve years ago, he went dark and never contacted the agency again. Your dad was with him that night…” His voice broke. “No one will tell me the truth. It’s why I can’t stop searching.”

  Maybe I didn’t deserve the trophy for biggest mess of a life. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t ever apologize.”

  “What should I do, scream at you?”

  Travis shook his head. “Can we start over?”

  “Over?”

  He extended a hand. “I’m Travis Payne.”

  I stared at his hand. “Haven’t we done this at least twice?”

  “I’ll shake your hand a thousand times if that’s what it takes.”

  “For what? Don’t give me the agent act. Tell me how you feel.”

  “I love you, Rena. I know because of the fear I felt in that room when you learned the truth. Fear that you could never forgive me.”

  “How can you love me? We’ve never even kissed.”

  He smiled. “That’s an honest question.” With another glance around, he pulled me close and put a gloved hand to my cheek. “What if I tell you I know how your lips will taste without kissing you? That I’ve already imagined how your hands will feel?”

  “Sounds like you’ve been busy. What about the fact you can’t touch me? Can you imagine a way around that?”

  Travis laughed and squeezed my hand. “Give me some time. I’m working on it.”

  * * * * *

  That night, Dad cooked dinner in his room for the first time in weeks. He fried pork chops and boiled potatoes while a blue-tooth speaker streamed Johnny Cash’s greatest hits from his phone. His stove wasn’t any larger than the one he cooked on in the camper. Alfie asked for spinach and I wrinkled my nose.

  Dad laughed as he had back when Mama was alive. “I don’t know where you inherited your taste for green vegetables, but it wasn’t from me.”

  “Mama used to cook spinach,” I said. “Remember? She cut up boiled eggs to mix in with the spinach.”

  “Which didn’t improve the taste,” he said. “Your mother had strange ideas about food. Southern fried wasn’t her style.” He pu
lled a stainless bowl from the cabinet above my head and placed it on the counter. “You do remember how to make mashed potatoes?”

  With a smile, I grabbed milk and butter from the fridge. In one of the drawers, I found a large spoon to mash the potatoes.

  As I poured the milk, Dad leaned against the counter. “Hanging in there?”

  I nodded. “You?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  I stirred with a stubborn refusal to ruin our night as a family. Since I didn’t want to be selfish, I waited for Alfie to leave the room before asking, “How long have you known about Travis?”

  Dad watched me with a smile. “I’ve known since his father told me twelve years ago.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was an… alien?”

  “Because he’s not. At least, I don’t think of him that way. I still see the shy boy who wanted to be an agent more than anything in the world.”

  “It wasn’t fair for you to hide that information.”

  “Would it have made a difference? Kept you apart?”

  I froze with the spoon in my hand. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you break up with him?”

  “No.”

  “Is there any way I can convince you to break up with him?”

  “I thought you liked Travis.”

  “I do. He’s a good agent.”

  “But he’s not boyfriend material.”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you used those words and not me.”

  I crossed my arms and potatoes fell from the spoon. “If you’re against me dating Travis…”

  He grabbed a paper towel and wiped up the potatoes. “Date Travis? Listen to yourself. You can’t even touch Travis.”

  “Why are we having this conversation?” Alfie walked through the door and I turned back to the potatoes. “You’re right. There’s nothing between us.”

  “If you say so.” He handed a stack of plates to Alfie. “Please set the table.”

  I tried to think of a safer subject. “You said your mission was a success?”

  Dad put a plate of pork chops on the table. “It was, though I can’t give you the details.”

  “You can tell us without revealing names,” Alfie said. “And locations. Sam said there are ways to get around the classified rules.”

  With a laugh, Dad sat down and I brought the potatoes to the table. I dropped into a chair and Alfie began to fill his plate.

  “We saved a hundred and fifty-six people,” Dad said. “Not one innocent person died.”

  “But somebody died,” Alfie said. “You got to kill the bad guys, right?”

  “I only kill when absolutely necessary.” Dad took a bite of his food. “My job isn’t about who I kill. It’s about who I save.”

  Instead of cutting his pork chop, Alfie lifted the meat and took a huge bite. He chewed while I picked at my food. “I’m going to be an agent like you when I get older. Sam and I already planned it out. We’re going to be partners and fight bad guys together.”

  “Maybe,” Dad said.

  For the rest of dinner, Alfie described his future as an agent in great detail, even down to the restaurant he’d eat at for lunch each day. Sylvia would hopefully be retired. I smiled at that thought and so did Dad.

  When Alfie went to the living room to watch TV, I gave up on eating. “We need to talk about Mama.”

  “No, we don’t,” Dad said.

  “Are you sure she’s dead? The agency has pictures—”

  “I’m sure, Rena. I watched your mother stop breathing. It’s not a memory I like recalling.”

  “What do you think about the woman working for Louis?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “A coincidence?”

  He shook his head. “I’m with Agent Dallas. There are no coincidences. The only thing I can think of is Louis found the connection with Lloyd and hired Bethany Kruger because she reminded him of Rosanna.”

  “They look nothing alike.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Louis has never been the sanest member of the psych ward.”

  “Do you think I could have inherited the crazy genes?”

  He pointed his fork at me. “I see what you did just now. It won’t work.”

  “We should take the test. I want to know the truth.”

  “You think the truth would make a difference, like you thought knowing the truth about Travis would have made a difference. If you find out Louis is your father, will you join him in terrorizing the world?”

  “Or course not.”

  “Then tell me what difference it will make.”

  “I’m not going to release a nuclear bomb if he’s my dad. I can live with the results.”

  “But I can’t,” he said. “Let it go.”

  “But—”

  “Let it go,” Dad shouted. He stood and went to the couch to watch TV with Alfie.

  I understood his point, but did he really expect me to let it go?

  * * * * *

  After binge-watching old MacGyver shows, I fell asleep on Dad’s couch next to Alfie. He laid his head at one end and I laid my head at the other. It was the closest we’d been since our days at the camper when I was the only one around to make sure Alfie took a bath at night and crawled into his bunk.

  When I woke, the TV was off. Alfie snored softly on his end of the couch. I sat up as Dad walked by in a fresh black agent suit.

  “Are you leaving again?” I asked.

  “Sylvia has another meeting for us to attend.”

  “Us?”

  “You get another shot in the big conference room. Don’t blow it like when you first arrived.” He chuckled. “I’ve heard the stories about Travis tricking you into showing your power. I wish I’d seen it.”

  I thought back to when I’d used my power to break every window. I had no idea what I was doing back then, but everyone in that room could have died. A thread of fear wound through me and I made fists to hide my palms.

  “Got you bumped up to number five on the list.”

  “Number five?” I jumped to my feet. “No one told me I moved up.”

  “Maybe you’re going to the wrong meetings.”

  “If only Sylvia would allow me in her morning meeting.”

  He pulled his suit jacket over his arms. “You’re not missing much. It’s boring, really. Why do you think there’s always so much coffee?”

  “I hate coffee.”

  “You’ve never had a reason to drink it. Become an agent and you’ll develop a taste.”

  “You think Sylvia would ever make me an agent?”

  “Baby steps, Rena. First you must prove you can control your power. Also, that you can be trusted.”

  “Why invite me today?”

  “Sylvia’s been searching for a new geneticist for months now. This will be someone who can study your DNA and help everyone understand your power. She’s kept the interviews low key until now.”

  “She’s found someone?”

  “She’s narrowed the field to five candidates. All will be touring the base soon and Sylvia asked that you help with the selection process.”

  “Why me?”

  Dad shrugged. “It’s hard to be sure of Sylvia’s reasons. All I can say is she insisted you be involved.”

  “Sylvia hates me.”

  “She’s barely talked to you.”

  “Because she hates me. She knows I’ll fail.”

  “If that’s the case, this assignment will be tough. Do a great job and prove her wrong.”

  As he always liked to say—easier said than done.

  * * * * *

  Later that morning, I walked to the meeting with Dad and chose a seat next to him. Maybe he was right about proving Sylvia wrong. If she chose me for this assignment, there had to be a good reason.

  When Travis arrived, he took a seat across from us, next to Angel. Skip sat to her other side, ready to lead the meeting as he had the day before. I wondered if Sylvia always put him in the dri
ver’s seat during these meetings. He didn’t seem to fear her on any level, despite the fact she was director.

  The long table, made of thick polished wood, held thirty or more agents. Every seat was filled by the time Sylvia arrived and closed the door behind her. Skip began as soon as she took her usual seat.

  “I think everyone knows why we’re here.” He shot me a questioning glance and I nodded. “Sylvia has shortlisted five doctors to fill the vacant position of genetics specialist. Five candidates walk in and only one stays.”

  Chuckles sounded from around the table.

  Skip clicked on his laptop and a picture of a man appeared on the screen covering the far wall. “To protect the privacy of each candidate, we’ll keep their real names hidden.”

  With a glance around the table, Skip continued. “Doctor number one is not a geneticist by formal training, but his technique in determining root cause of an illness is unmatched. For the sake of this interview, we’ll call him Dr. House.” A few agents gave blank stares and he added, “Like the TV show.” When they still looked confused, Skip shook his head. “It’s not that early in the morning. Moving on.” He clicked a new picture. “Doctor number two is a Nobel Prize winner based on work in the field of genetics. We’ll call him Dr. Nobel.”

  I leaned over to Dad. “She got a Nobel Prize winner and a TV doctor to interview here?”

  “Best of the best,” he whispered.

  “Doctor number three has researched genetics since Regan was in office,” Skip said. “He studies the effects of nuclear reactions on humans, which would be useful in the case of Rena’s power. We’ll call him Dr. Nuke.”

  I felt several sets of eyes on me. Dr. Nuke could be useful. Noted.

  “Doctor number four has written five books on genetics. She graduated at the top of her class and is routinely called in as an expert in various trial cases. We’ll call her ‘The Author.’”

  “Not doctor?” I asked.

  “You’ll understand once you meet her,” Sylvia said.

  “Down to number five,” Skip said. “This doctor worked under the supervision of a world-renowned geneticist who unfortunately passed away six months ago. Before he died, they created a simple test using genetics to screen for cancer earlier than any other known test.”