Emry clambered to her feet, retrieved her dislodged visor from the floor, and made her way to the library. One quick hack of the appointment schedule later, she headed to the office where her target awaited. She eased into the outer office, trying to look inconspicuous. It looked vacant, so she sidled her way over toward the inner door, bracing herself.
“Can I help you?”
Emry jumped. The stern, clipped, British-accented voice came from someone she hadn’t seen, a tiny, short-limbed woman with curly blond hair. “I said, can I help you?” the woman repeated with even more impatience than last time.
“I’m here to see the big guy.” She angled her badge to show the woman her fake name. “I have an appointment.”
“No, you don’t.”
Emry blinked. “Aren’t you gonna check the schedule?”
The woman tapped her head. “Already did.”
“Oh, you have a buffer?”
The woman looked offended by the suggestion. “No.”
“Then you must’ve overlooked it. Check again.”
“I don’t have to. I made the schedule.”
Oh, vack. “Look, it’s really important. I have to see him, just for a minute.” She tried an ingratiating smile. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind?”
The blond woman crossed her stout arms. “I would.”
“And who the hell are you that I should care?”
Now she just looked amused. “Obviously you are not what you pretend to be.”
This was ridiculous. All she’d gone through to get to this point, and now she was being stymied by a woman she could jump over in full gravity? Who did this bitch think she was, anyway? Looming over her, Emry whipped off her visor and gave her best Banshee snarl. “What I am is the woman who’s gonna make you a whole lot shorter if you don’t get the hell out of my way!”
“Oh, we like to shout, do we? Makes us feel all mighty, eh? Do get over yourself, Miss Blair, and have a seat like a good little girl.”
All the steam went out of Emry, and she could only gape in shock. “How did…” She looked down at the name tag to make sure she hadn’t made a horrible mistake programming it. No, it still said LANA GORDON. “How did you…”
“I know everything,” the woman said, sounding singularly bored by the fact. “Do have a seat. Some of us have work to do.”
Just then, the inner door opened. “That’s all right, Sally. I’m ready to talk with the young lady now.”
The blonde—Sally—threw a glance skyward, as though she found Sensei Villareal rather silly for indulging in such games. “Fine. Lets me get back to filing.”
“Then all is right with the worlds,” Sensei said with that familiar charm, which left no impression whatsoever on Sally’s hide. The silver-haired man chuckled and turned back to Emry. “Welcome to the TSC, young lady,” he said. “Don’t feel bad. Even the toughest of us has trouble handling Sally Knox. You’ve actually made a very good showing of yourself, coming this far. But perhaps you’d like to tell me,” he went on more sternly, “just what it is you are doing here?”
Emry took a deep breath, breaking free of her paralyzing awe, and said what she’d come here to say. “I’m here to sign up. I want to be a Troubleshooter.”
Villareal laughed. “You have an unorthodox way of going about it. You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble by applying through the usual routes.”
“And would you have even given me a second glance? I…” She lowered her eyes. “I knew that if you checked … you’d find out I have a criminal record. I wanted to prove that could be an asset to you.”
“And get my attention in the process.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not enough to qualify you as a Troubleshooter.”
Anger made her bolder. “I got your attention, didn’t I? You’re talking to me. And I managed to get all the way here, into one of the most secure places in Solsys, by myself.”
“Only because we let you.”
Once more, she was thrown off. “You … wha?”
“We detected you down in the storeroom. You would’ve been arrested before you got into the elevator shaft … if someone hadn’t vouched for you.” At her puzzled look, he led her into his office, where a stocky, balding man with a chubby, lived-in face rose to greet her. “Emerald Blair, meet Arkady Nazarbayev. Whom you’ve actually met before.”
“Hello, little one,” Nazarbayev said. “Do you remember me? No, I doubt it … I was dressed rather differently when last we met.”
But Emry recognized his name. “I remember. But … I’m surprised you remember me.”
“That day on Greenwood? I will never forget it. I still regret that I could not do more that day … could not stop them sooner. I—”
She cut him off, fidgeting. “Yeah, okay. Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”
“Still,” Villareal said, “Arkady feels he owes you something, so he persuaded me to hold off and see what you were up to. Though I thought I’d throw a couple of obstacles in your path along the way. Sorry about the elevator car; you were in no real danger. Meanwhile I had Sally call up your records, while Arkady filled me in on your checkered past.”
Emry stared at Nazarbayev, who shrugged. “I … stayed in touch with your father. He wanted me to keep an eye out for you. But with my duties, I could rarely spare the time. He found other means, but I stayed in the loop as much as I could.” He lowered his head. “He was a fine man, your father. He would be proud to see you as a Troubleshooter.”
“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, old bear,” said Villareal. “I haven’t given my blessing yet. To be sure, you’re a strong, intelligent, resourceful young woman, Emerald. And I’ve always wanted to have a Vanguardian in the Corps.”
“I’m not a Vanguardian!”
He raised a frosty brow, and she subsided. “But it takes more than that to make a Troubleshooter. It takes integrity, commitment, compassion, and regard for others. It takes total dedication, the willingness to see it through no matter the hardships. You have yet to convince me you have those qualities.” He stepped closer, placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked her deep in the eyes. “So tell me, Emerald Blair: why do you want to be a Troubleshooter?”
So she told him. It poured out of her, truths she had never bared to another soul. She told him everything: how her mother had died, how she’d blamed her father, her years as a Freak, her attempts to make amends, the devastating news from Bimala. She told him how, after the funeral, she had gone back to her old home, finding her room restored to the way it had been before she’d trashed it the last time. All her old comic books were there, printed out in hard copy to be lovingly handled and read over and over. “I looked at those comics, and I realized they were trying to tell me something.” She knew she might be sabotaging herself if she gave the impression she only saw Troubleshooting as a comic-book fantasy. But she drove on regardless, unable to tell anything but the truth.
“Power,” she said. “Mom and Dad always tried to teach me about the responsibility that came with my power. Always taught me to use my power to help, never to hurt. I thought Daddy had betrayed that lesson when he didn’t save Mommy. But … I was the one who betrayed it. I didn’t realize … he needed me, as much as I needed him. I was all he had left. That … that gave me power over him. Over his whole life from that moment on.”
She drew a shuddering breath. “I could’ve saved him. We could’ve saved each other. But I used my power … to hurt him. I abused it. Because I only thought about me. I forgot what he taught me. What Mommy taught me. The more power you have, the more you have to put others first. Every time I forgot that … someone got hurt. And now … now…” She couldn’t finish the thought. Arkady put an arm around her shoulders.
She looked up at him for the first time. “You were there too, in those comics. And you,” she said to Sensei. “And the others. Real heroes, putting your lives on the line for others, using your powers to help and never to harm.
“
I know it sounds corny, but … that’s when it fell into place. That was why nothing I tried to do fulfilled me. Because I’d been too focused on my own needs, my own wants, and that wasn’t enough. When we were all together … when we were happy … it was because we lived for each other. Gave to each other.
“If … if I’d given comfort to Daddy … instead of thinking of myself … it could’ve healed us both.”
She paused. “I guess I’d like to think I always knew that, on some level. Even as a Freak, I was always taking in strays, rescuing fellow mods, avenging their suffering. It was when I helped people that I felt the best.
“So I know that’s what I have to do now,” she went on. “I have to make a difference. I have to carry on Daddy’s work. Not the way he did … I’ve been a fighter too long. But … he always approved of the Troubleshooters. And I guess … I owe you a lot,” she said to Arkady.
She turned back to Sensei. “I know how I must look. I’m a juvenile delinquent with a sob story and comic-book daydreams. But I’m not asking for an easy break. I need to earn this, as much for me as for you. I just know … I have to be a Troubleshooter.”
Her words ran out, and no one else spoke for some time. Emry stayed frozen, afraid to let herself react.
Finally, Sensei’s mouth quirked into a smile. “You know something, Emerald? I stole a few cars in my youth as well. I generally returned them intact by morning, of course, albeit with an occasional pair of panties left over in the backseat.” With a wink, he went to his desk and activated the intercom. “Sally, would you prepare the enrollment forms, please? The Corps is taking on a new recruit.”
“Hmp,” Sally replied. “I give her a week.”
15
A Many-splendored Thing
November 2107
Grandma Rachel had begun crying before Emry finished her narrative. “I guess you hate me now,” Emry said when she was done.
Rachel gasped. “Oh, God, no! Come here!” She enfolded Emry in her arms, and this time it was a profound relief. “No, how could I hate you?”
“It’s my fault!”
Rachel pulled back. “Don’t you ever say that, young lady!” she scolded. “Richard died doing what he believed in. He chose to face danger to help others, just as you do. What happened to him is not your fault, whatever that horrid woman told you.”
“She loved him,” Emry said in Bimala’s defense.
“That’s no excuse for making you a scapegoat. No one can know if he was careless that day, if he could’ve saved himself if he’d been more alert.”
“Maybe,” Emry said. “But however it ended, the last seven years of his life were miserable—because of me. And I can never make up for that, no matter how much good I do now.”
Rachel gazed at Emry, shaking her head. “We are so much alike.”
“Wha—what do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve said practically the same thing to myself so many times in the past two years.”
Emry frowned. “You … blame yourself?”
“Yes. Was I a good mother? No. When he needed me, when he lost Lyra and then you … did I go to him? Did I comfort him, help him heal? Did I help him find you and try to heal you too? No. I didn’t.” She stood and began to pace around the room. “I just stayed here, caught up in my work.”
Emry followed Rachel to her feet. “You had other responsibilities. Your other kids,” she said, nodding at Rachel’s womb.
“That didn’t make him any less my responsibility! I should have gone to him!” She winced. “I should’ve tried harder, years before, to make amends. I should’ve never let the rift form at all.”
“What … how did it happen?” Emry could no longer believe that Rachel had simply been too obsessed with her work to care about Richard.
“We argued … I couldn’t accept that he wanted to leave the Vanguard, to leave me, so he could help outsiders. I was bitter at how they’d treated us, forced us to retreat from the world. I agreed with Eliot that we should build our own, better society.”
She sighed. “I should’ve listened to Richard. I should’ve been proud of him for being so much more compassionate, so unwilling to give in to bitterness. And I did admire that about him, I did. But…” She met Emry’s eyes again, a repentant look on her face. “I was afraid of what would happen. I didn’t want to let my little boy go out into the big, bad world and put his life on the line. And I let that fear become anger. We kept fighting until I just gave up, told him that he should go, and washed my hands of the whole thing.
“After that, I threw myself into my work, into having more children, because … well, as a distraction, I guess. By the time I was ready to make amends with Richard, I was too caught up in the work. And maybe too afraid to reach out and try.”
“You should’ve,” Emry said promptly. “It would’ve made a difference. If Daddy had kept trying … if he’d come for me in rehab, instead of sending Bimala…” She lowered her head. “I said I didn’t want him in my life, but I was really hurt because he wouldn’t come himself. Because I missed him.” She saw Rachel was crying again. “Oh, Goddess, no, I didn’t mean to accuse you!” She hugged Rachel.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. We’ve both got plenty of regrets to go around. We shouldn’t hide from them.”
“No,” Emry said. “But we shouldn’t wallow in them either. That just leads to more regrets. Worse ones.”
She led Rachel back to the couch, and they sat quietly for a moment. Then Emry laughed. “Ohh, we’re a mess, aren’t we? What a screwed-up family.”
“Show me a family that isn’t,” Rachel said with a slight smirk.
“Mine was great … for thirteen years. I guess I should be grateful for that.”
“Your father was a wonderful man, Emerald. And I’m sure your mother was wonderful too. I’ll always regret that my stupid pride and cowardice kept me from ever meeting her.”
“Hey, let’s not start that again. We’re only human, okay? More or less.”
Rachel scoffed. “Only human. You know, I think it’s the other way around. The more complex the system, the more chaotic it can get. There are some things we can probably never breed out of the species. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we can remove the human capacity for war and murder and brutality … but I doubt we’ll ever evolve beyond the tendency to screw things up royally with the people we love.”
“I wish I’d known that nine years ago,” Emry said. “I thought Dad was perfect. That he could do no wrong. I felt so betrayed when he didn’t save Mom. If I’d just … forgiven him for being fallible, for not being able to save everyone in the universe … maybe we could’ve healed each other.”
Rachel stroked her hair. “Maybe that’s so. But isn’t that exactly why you should forgive yourself for being fallible? For being only human?”
“I don’t know if it’s really the same,” Emry said. But after a moment’s thought, she said, “Tell you what. I’ll try it if you do too. Okay?”
“It’s a deal.” Rachel hugged her granddaughter again, and Emry didn’t let her go for a long time.
* * *
“Rachel is, as usual, quite right,” Eliot told Emry the next day as they sparred in his private gym. “You’re not to blame for your father’s fate, any more than she is.”
“I’m starting to get that now,” Emry acknowledged as she sized him up, awaiting his next attack. Every day since their race to the mountaintop, she and Thorne had been sparring daily. Emry consistently tried to get the better of him and failed at every turn. Even the judo moves that helped her against stronger sparring partners weren’t giving her much luck. And it wasn’t just physical. Thorne’s confidence alone bore the momentum of a stroid; she could believe that nothing would move him without his consent.
“The real blame,” he went on as they circled each other, “lies with the gangsters whose petty turf war brought such tragedy to you and Richard.” He came forward easily, struck at her, let her block his blows as he spoke. “And with the la
wlessness of Belt society, the lack of effectual mechanisms for bringing order and stability in an age of ever-increasing individual power.” He caught her arm, spun her, pinned her in a full Nelson from behind. “That is what I intend to change with this alliance. By working together, we can bring peace and safety to our homes without needing to rely on a single large state to impose it unilaterally.”
She relaxed in his arms. Being pinned by him wasn’t exactly unpleasant, since they were both shirtless. “You don’t need to sell me. Lotta folks won’t go for it, though. Striders don’t like outsiders telling them what to do.”
“Which is why it must be a partnership,” he said, releasing her but holding on to her hand. “Each partner having a role in governing itself, while still contributing to a greater, more potent whole.”
“I’ve been wondering,” Emry said as she got some distance and began to circle again. “Well, Zephyr’s been wondering. If you want to bring everyone together, why are you only dealing with mods?”
He lunged, but she managed to dodge this time. “Only to start with. They would be more receptive to us. Besides—the rest of the Striders will have to accept the mods if this alliance is to work. And we mods will be essential to the peacekeeping process. We need to be a stronger, more numerous bloc than we were on Earth, or we risk being marginalized or ostracized again.” He shot forward again, striking with an arm. Emry relaxed and yielded, using his momentum to fling him around and past her. He managed to retain his footing, though, and caught himself at the edge of the mat. “Impressive.”
She nodded, accepting the praise, and went on, “Most folks out here don’t have much problem with mods. Long as they aren’t terrorists or something. But if you bring the mods together, don’t include the rest, well, people might start to get nervous. It could backfire.”
“Perhaps.” He struck without warning this time, and had her pinned in seconds. “But first I must bring the more unruly mod nations in line if I wish to reassure the rest of the Striders. It’s a calculated risk, but an essential part of the process. Trust me, Emerald—this has all been taken into consideration.”
Only Superhuman Page 24
