“I guess I had better go to the station,” Kel said.
“Yeah. And take the week off. Hit the beach, read some books. Come and see me on Monday.” He looked a little sheepish. “This whole thing makes me realise I haven’t been doing a great job at mentoring you. I guess like Bao-Yu, I figured someone as smart as you has it all worked out. But I can see now you could have used more support, more career help. I should do better there.”
Kel nodded, feeling even more shell-shocked now than when she had come in to see Bao-Yu being arrested.
It had certainly been a year for surprises.
HAROON
Haroon waved his wrist over the pad and then pressed his thumb into it. It beeped to confirm his signature.
The recruiting officer, a man named Max this time, bowed in welcome. Haroon returned the gesture. “And with that, you’re on your way to Depot and twenty-six weeks of training,” he said, beaming. Saba reached over to kiss him on the cheek, and Yoshi pulled him into a bear hug. Haroon’s answering smile was bittersweet. In spite of everything, he was a little sad his father wasn’t here to see him sign up. He wondered if he’d ever stop feeling that way.
“They try to take preferences into consideration when setting up your first posting,” Constable Max was saying. Haroon was amazed it was assumed he’d pass the course. “And I hope you’ll head straight back here. We’ve just had an anonymous informant come forward with all kinds of details about activity in the District, and I know that’s something you wanted to get into. Several notebooks worth. It will take months to verify and investigate properly.”
“Thank you, sir, I will,” Haroon said, fighting rising anxiety. It was all happening so quickly now. He stuck his hand in his pocket and felt for the implants Yoshi had given him, fingering them as if they were good luck charms. Saba, sensing his tension, squeezed his other hand. He looked at her closely, noticing her quiet strength and determination for the first time. Haroon eased his shoulders back. Maybe they’d be okay.
He accepted a transfer of travel details to his wristband and left the RCMP office. Yoshi went home to practice for another tournament. Haroon watched him go a little wistfully, then put an arm around Saba, and set a beacon for a pod.
From one ordeal to the next: It was time for a lunch date to tell Saba’s family of their plans to get married.
RAY
It was now late afternoon. The sun was warm on his face and his upper body. He looked up at the trees nestled between the university buildings and watched the tops of them move in the slight breeze. Nearby, a small flock of starlings was busy pecking at insects in the grass. Somewhere below him, in the shade of the bench he was sitting on, a cricket was thrumming. That sound had always felt like change to him, reminding him that autumn was coming, with its cooler days and soft colours. It made him savour today’s gentle heat all the more.
Someone sat on the other end of the bench. That wasn’t unusual, as the Walk was busy with students coming and going all the time. He glanced sideways and then did a double take.
It was her.
They sat in strangely companionable silence.
“You know,” she said, after a while. “I used to see you sit here almost every day, staring at these buildings. Then you disappeared for a while, and now you’re back again. I noticed,” she said, crossing her legs, “because there’s something intense about the way you look at them. It’s like you want in.”
Ray said nothing.
“You going to apply?”
He shrugged, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know. I don’t have the other education yet. And I’m not sure they’d have me. I’ve… done some things.”
She laughed softly. “Yeah. Me, too.”
They watched people go by. She shifted the package she’d been carrying; Ray saw that it was full of books. He recognised one of the names from the news. She stuck out her hand. “My grandmother would have said everyone deserves a second chance. Maybe that applies to us too. My name is Kel. Maybe I can help.”
He looked down at her hand and saw her digital tattoo, achingly aware of the bare skin of his own wrist. He looked up at the treetops, caught the leaves flickering in the bright sun.
Then he turned back to Kel, put out his own hand to take hers, feeling its warmth and the connection.
“I’m Ray,” he said. “Ray Tilson.”
About the Author
Chandra Clarke wears many hats, sometimes all at once, which makes it hard to get through doorways. A recovering/relapsing entrepreneur, she founded the editing company Scribendi.com, which was acquired in 2017. She will also admit to having been a freelance writer, with publishing credits in places like Popular Science, Canadian Business, and yes, even Voice of the Kent Farmer. Chandra has an MSc in space exploration studies, which she got solely so she could say “As a matter of fact, I am a rocket scientist.” She recently finished a PhD, because she’s something of an academic masochist. Chandra she’s a mother to four kids and two dogs, and wife to Terry Johnson, the best British import since the Aston Martin. Chandra thinks her family is pretty awesome, but she might be biased.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review where you bought it.
If you would like to see other books and short stories by Chandra, please visit http://www.chandrakclarke.com/books/
To get announcements about new books, and her regular blog posts, please subscribe at:
http://www.chandrakclarke.com/subscribe/
Echoes of Another Page 25
