Psion Delta (Psion series #3)

by Jacob Gowans

  Within an hour, or even within thirty minutes, the guards would return. When they did, she eased open the bean slot and took a peek. Each time, it was the same scenario: one prisoner returned with the guards, sometimes with a limp, other times with little or no help; if the second prisoner came back at all, he was almost always carried.

  The guards were holding fights on the grounds.

  Katie did not smile when she figured it all out, but her eyes were brighter than they had been in weeks. Next she had to decide how to use the information. She took her time preparing her plan, knowing she would likely get one and only one shot at exploiting her knowledge to her advantage. Always, always, always she kept in mind that her ultimate goal was one thing: escape. After that would come her revenge on the guards and Elite.

  Her plan took a giant step forward on a day when she spotted a large spot of blood dried on the concrete. The guards, Meacham and Kosco, two of her sworn enemies, walked with her that day, ignoring her and talking to each other. On her second lap around the yard, Katie tripped and landed on the red spot, letting out a muffled grunt to make it look more real. Some of the dried blood smeared across her hands and jumpsuit.

  The guards reached down and lifted her up by her arms.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed, pointing down at the stain. “What is that?”

  “What’s what?” one of the guards asked.

  “This red crap all over me.”

  Kosco leaned in and gave Katie a perfect opportunity to break his face with her skull. Resisting the urge took effort. “I see nothing.”

  Meacham pushed her to get her moving again. “Probably paint.”

  “Yeah,” Kosco said as he straightened up. “Paint.”

  “Nothing’s been painted around here,” Katie pointed out.

  “Then it spilled while they were carrying it.”

  Katie sniffed it. “Smells like dried blood,” she said, keeping her tone as light and conversational as possible. “Believe me, I know blood.” She smirked coquettishly at the guards, who glanced at each other warily.

  Kosco growled. “You give me the creeps.”

  Meacham grunted a harsh laugh and knocked her not lightly in the small of her back. “Shut up. We know all about the mutilations you did to your parents and the girls at your school, you sick psycho. You, on the other hand, don’t know nothin’. So shut up.”

  Katie made a mental note of the comment and said nothing more about the blood that day. She did not want to sound too accusatory or receive another beating. That might set her plan back days or weeks.

  The next time she was out, it was with Schuller—the giant, brutish Elite—and Kosco. As they made their way around the yard, she pointed out a different red spot.

  “Look,” she said, “remember this, Kosco? Where is that coming from?”

  “One of the inmates had a nosebleed,” Schuller answered. “Something about the desert air not agreeing with him.”

  “He bled an awful lot for a nose bleed,” she prodded.

  Neither man responded. She turned around quickly. Schuller and Kosco reacted by pointing their guns straight at her chest. Her supine hands showed them she meant no harm.

  “Are you making the inmates fight each other?”

  “Keep walking or you go back to your cell.”

  “You don’t have anything to hide,” she continued. “I won’t tell anyone. I want in.”

  Schuller bellowed, but Katie saw right through his grandiosity. Kosco joined in after a beat. “Look at you. You’re nothing. You’re a scrawny little girl. There are no fights. Move.”

  Schuller and Katie locked eyes. She saw more intelligence in his gaze than most of the other guards put together. We aren’t that different, are we? she asked him silently. You could be somewhere else making more money on some better assignment for the Elite. But you like it here. You get off on the power trip, don’t you?

  Finally she spoke. “If you don’t let me in on it, I’ll write a letter to my lawyer. If he doesn’t answer my letter, I’ll inform him as to what is going on here during his next visit. That’s about three weeks away, isn’t it?”

  Schuller never broke eye contact with her. “Move.”

  Katie let it go for the day. Her words had done enough. Step one was complete. The next step, according to her best guess, would be how she handled the guards’ response to her accusations. And if her guess was right, she would have to prove herself.

  16.

  Truth

  Friday July 19, 2086

  Jeffie lay on her bed and used a blast to spin a large red envelope with white trimmings. She had learned the trick from Kobe and Kaden, creating a gentle blast that sort of cupped the object she wanted to spin. After practicing it for several weeks, she could perform it with ease so long as she didn’t try to get as tricky or creative as the Reynolds brothers. Right now, she wasn’t thinking about the envelope or the spinning.

  The dorm floor was quiet. Most of the girls were upstairs hanging out with the boys. About thirty minutes earlier, she’d walked in the room and found the envelope on the carpet. Someone had slipped it under the door—probably Strawberry or someone else passing by. Kobe was good at getting girls to help him put things in her bedroom. In fact, he was good at many things. Jeffie thought about him and his many talents as she spun the envelope.

  Starting Monday, she had received four similar envelopes—one each day. She had already opened the other four. This latest one, however, remained sealed shut. She didn’t need to open it to know what waited inside. By the weight and feel of the packaging, the small, flat, and wooden texture with oddly shaped edges told her it was a puzzle piece, part of an invitation to a special date. Kobe did something like this about once a month.

  She stopped twirling it for a minute and stared at it again. It was impossible to miss the detail of the envelope. Red hearts imprinted the surface of the paper and had been woven into the lace on the fringes. She wondered how much Kobe had paid for it.

  And why don’t I want to open it?

  Jeffie placed the envelope over her eyes and let it rest there, dropping her hands to the bed beside her. She sighed deeply, instantly remembering where she’d picked up the habit. Sammy. He always sighed deeply when frustrated or confused or annoyed. She wondered how many times he’d done so on account of her behavior toward him.

  “I miss you,” she stated. A little tickle in her nose told her she was close to tears, but she put a stop to that right away. She had no idea where exactly he was or what he was doing. Is he safe? Is he really ready to be an Alpha and go on a mission? How long will he be gone? She felt like a hypocrite asking the last question because she’d spent so much time ignoring him while he’d been at headquarters. Why did I choose Kobe when I knew I liked Sammy more?

  She knew the answer. It was the same answer today as it was two months ago. It was also the reason she had hesitated meeting Sammy outside the girls’ dormitory yesterday morning when he left for his Alpha mission. Instead of going to meet him on the stairs, she’d sat on her bed and trembled as the clock on her com screen ticked away the minutes. She’d hated herself more with each passing minute. When she’d finally decided to go, it had been too late.

  Missing her opportunity to say goodbye to Sammy had been on her mind ever since he left. She couldn’t focus during her classes. She avoided Kobe Thursday evening and had cut her evening with him short tonight, too. And for what?

  All I do is make dumb choices over and over and over.

  She looked at the envelope for the umpteenth time and tossed it away. It bounced off the door and landed almost exactly where she’d picked it up. She stared at it for a while longer as though she expected it to move on its own back into her hand. Part of her wanted to open it; after all, she’d been giddy about getting them Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. That same part of her also wanted to go back upstairs and make out with Kobe until she forgot all about Samuel Harris Berhane, Jr.

  If the envelope leaps back in
to my hand, I’ll take that as a sign that I need to go back to the rec room, find Kobe, and do just that.

  The door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Jeffie, are you okay?” Strawberry asked. Seeing the envelope on the floor, she stopped and picked it up. “Silly, you haven’t even opened this one!”

  Jeffie closed her eyes and sighed again, only this time it sounded like a groan. Strawberry placed the envelope on Jeffie’s hand.

  “Seriously, Jeffie,” her roommate said softly, “get a grip.”

  Jeffie raised her head a few degrees off her pillow. “What?”

  “Get a grip.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Strawberry put her hand to her forehead and fainted dramatically. “My life is so hard! I like two boys at the same time, and they both like me, but I can’t choose between them!”

  “What’s your problem, Berry?” Jeffie asked, clenching the envelope in her hand.

  “Nothing,” Strawberry shot back.

  “Obviously it’s not nothing!” Jeffie sat up fully now so she could glare at her roommate. “Spit it out.”

  “No.” Strawberry turned to leave.

  Jeffie was too fast for Strawberry. She grabbed her roommate’s arm and spun her back around. “Tell me!”

  Jeffie thought she’d seen Strawberry angry. She’d helped her roommate through moments like when Antonio had done something rude or said something that hurt Strawberry’s feelings, but apparently those had only been mild expressions of anger, because right now, Strawberry looked livid.

  “You suck, Jeffie. You’re a selfish brat. Don’t you see what kind of a roller coaster you put Sammy on? First, you went out with Kobe when you suspected Sammy liked you. Then Kobe treated you like crap. Then you told Sammy you liked him before he went to Rio. When he finally came home, you were back with Kobe. Sure, you still liked Sammy, but you looked for excuses to get mad at him so you wouldn’t feel so confused!”

  “That’s not—”

  “How many times did you tell me that you missed him while he was M.I.A. in Rio?”

  “I don’t—”

  “I can’t believe you had the nerve to complain about his decision to leave for Alpha after you snubbed him for Kobe. You made him miserable because of your selfishness, and when I tried to strike up a relationship with him, he told me no. Why? Because he likes YOU!” Strawberry said this last word so forcefully that Jeffie thought she was going to get slapped. Instead, all she got was a poke in the chest. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk to me about boys again! You are so screwed up and you don’t even see it! Everyone else does, even Brickert and Natalia and Kawai!”

  “Sorry for talking to my friends about my problems!” Jeffie shouted. She needed to be loud so she wouldn’t hear Strawberry’s words echoing in her brain. “And forgive me for thinking that the things in my life, like my feelings, are important!”

  “YOU ARE SO STUPID!” Strawberry yelled. Then she screamed even louder unintelligibly.

  “If you want a boyfriend so bad, here!” Jeffie chucked the envelope at Strawberry’s head. Strawberry both ducked and blasted, looking quite silly as she did so.

  Jeffie snickered derisively as only she knew how. She stepped up to Strawberry. Her roommate backed up to the wall, and Jeffie cocked her fist, very tempted to punch Berry right in her perfect nose. Strawberry flinched badly.

  “Some Psion you’ll make. I hope you’re not in my squadron.”

  As Jeffie slipped her envelope into her pocket and shoved past her roommate, she spat out a name at Strawberry that would have made her mother shriek in horror. As soon as she stepped through the doorway, a violent force shoved her across the hall. Jeffie barely had time to use blasts to soften the blow as her head knocked into the unforgiving white surface of the wall. The impact dazed her, but she still heard Strawberry call her an equally crude name.

  Jeffie spun around and blasted blindly, but Strawberry deflected her attacks. Both girls’ blasts pushed against the other’s as they glared at one another, and Jeffie noticed mascara-laced tears streaking down her roommate’s cheeks. Neither girl broke her blast away. Jeffie gritted her teeth, fueling her rage into the blast and slowly Strawberry’s feet slid away from Jeffie.

  “Coward,” Jeffie grunted at Strawberry through her gritted teeth.

  “Look . . . who’s . . . urgh!” Strawberry shoved Jeffie back again in a remarkable display of strength. Then she punched at Jeffie, who spun away, catching only a glancing blow on her shoulder. She glanced wildly toward the door at the end of the hall where she knew at any moment Major Tawhiri would appear to break them up and give them both time in solitary. Strawberry kicked at Jeffie, and again Jeffie narrowly dodged.

  “Stop, Berry!” Jeffie said. “Stop!” But when she saw the feral look in Strawberry’s eyes, she knew her roommate was not going to back down. Only one option made sense now. Jeffie turned and ran for the door.

  “Pathetic!” her roommate called after her.

  Jeffie ignored this and sprinted upstairs until she reached the fifth floor. She let herself into the first sim room she came to, closed the door behind her, and sat down. Strawberry’s words still stung her. You are so screwed up and you don’t even see it! Everyone else does. The words weren’t only cruel and callous, but correct. And to repay Strawberry for her honesty, Jeffie had acted like a complete hag.

  In a thick voice, with her head buried in her hands, she told herself, “Way to treat your friends like total crap.”

  After taking some time to regain her composure, Jeffie opened the envelope. She found exactly what she expected: a puzzle piece. She already knew by heart what the rest of the puzzle looked like. This was the final section. She set it on the floor, stared at her shoes, and tried to decide if going downstairs to complete the puzzle was worth risking running into Strawberry.

  “I don’t want to apologize,” she told herself.

  But I’ll feel better if I do.

  The hot guilt in her stomach was nearly unbearable. Jeffie had never punched another girl, though she’d wanted to several times. But coming close to inflicting harm on her roommate and friend? It seemed unthinkable now that she’d calmed down.

  So why does the idea of apologizing seem so appalling?

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she got up and went back down to the girls’ dormitory, ready to suck it up and tell Berry she was sorry. However, her roommate was gone. Jeffie debated searching for her, and instead grabbed the puzzle and finished it. The five pieces formed a heart that hummed to life when completed. The center piece projected a small message into the air:

  Jeffie, If you want my heart, you have it. Meet me at our place. Tomorrow night 1900

  She turned off the projector and set it aside, then picked up her com and sent Kobe a text:

  Can’t wait for tomorrow night! Heading to bed. Xoxo

  Gefjon

  By the time Jeffie woke up the next morning, Strawberry had already left the room. In her inbox, she saw a text from Brickert asking to meet up in the rec room to talk. Rather than going straight to breakfast, she headed there.

  Brickert was lifting weights when she came in. Because of his age, he wasn’t allowed to do heavy lifting, but he still had achieved solid definition in his arms and chest. He put his weights down when he saw her.

  “Jeffie! Hi!”

  When she heard the fake cheeriness in his voice, she had to fight back the urge to leave. “Good morning.” She sat down on the weight bench next to him. “What’s up?”

  “Strawberry.” When he said his sister’s name, he frowned. “She’s pretty upset.”

  Jeffie rubbed her nose and looked at a spot on the wall.

  “She says you hit her last night.”

  “I didn’t hit her! We both said some mean things and—”

  “She was scared, Jeffie. That’s what she told me.”

  “I didn’t hit your sister,” Jeffie said very slowly and pointedly. “I appreciate you standi
ng up for her, but it’s between us.”

  “When you resort to violence, it’s not between—”

  Jeffie stood up and put her finger on Brickert’s chest. “You punched and attacked my boyfriend, bucko, so stop right there. I didn’t lay a finger on Berry. She took a cheap shot at me while my back was turned. Are all the Placks known for fighting dirty where you come from?”

  Brickert’s cheeks flashed red shades. “You threw something at her.”

  “A piece of paper! What? Did she get a paper cut? I’m lucky I didn’t get a concussion after she blasted me into a wall.”

  “Jeffie—”

  “No! She told me that you and the others think I’m screwed up, so the way I see it, you should be grateful I’m talking to you at all.”

  She waited for the spots to reappear on his cheeks, but they never came.

  “I never said that about you. We’re friends.”

  “Then why would Berry say that?”

  Brickert’s eyes told Jeffie he was mulling something over. “Kawai said it yesterday during lunch. Natalia and I were eating with her. Strawberry was there, too.”

  Jeffie felt like she’d been blasted in the gut. She hadn’t really believed one of her friends would say that. Especially Kawai.

  “Kawai was blowing off steam. She didn’t mean it.”

  “Why would her blowing off steam include me?”

  Brickert shook his head. “I’d better not—”

  He stood to leave, but Jeffie held out her hand, palm ready. Brickert knew what she meant by it.

  “Why, Brickert?”

  He took a step forward, but Jeffie blasted him back. She was careful not to use too much force, but it shocked Brickert.

  “Don’t do that!”

  “Then tell me why!”

  They faced each other, standing only a half meter apart. The competitive side of Jeffie told her that she could beat Brickert in a fight, but her rational side reminded her that his achievements in the sims mirrored hers almost perfectly.