“I’m going to have to make preparations for a trip,” she said. “Several weeks, at least.”
Several weeks meant she was looking at traveling a fair distance. “You are going to pick up the Youngs?” he asked, genuinely surprised.
“Yes.”
“According to the timeline…”
“Does this care about the timeline?” she snapped, flicking the back of her hand against the display.
“But you’ll need five years more at least to see full results there.”
“There are six viable subjects there already…”
“Six?” His heart jumped.
“Or more, if the next generation is showing any potential at all. Don’t panic, Morgan. I know what you are thinking, and you don’t need to worry. They are not subjects, just the others. We’ll start with the halfbloods, and the healer, and go from there. Our first priority is getting this taken care of.” She pointed to the top three names on the list.
He was quiet a moment, watching her recheck the data he had already gone over five times. The numbers were borderline, at best. “I don’t know if they are strong enough to revive them. One more generation, at least, would up the probability for success. Each next generation has been stronger than the last.”
“Have you been monitoring the Kin?”
He didn’t answer. She knew that he had. It was one of his jobs.
“They are moving in on the Humans like they’ve caught the smell of blood. We may not have another generation.”
Morgan had been thinking the same thing, but he had been fighting it. He didn’t want to accept it. It was too horrible to imagine that the entire Human civilization would be wiped out. Even if just a portion of it, even if just the powered ones were eliminated, it would be a tremendous loss; and of course, years of their work would be destroyed. The Kin could not be that ignorant. He was betting that the pendulum would eventually swing, like it had already done a few times, from enmity back to tolerance; and he hoped it happened before it was too late. The question was, how many of the ones they needed would be lost before then?
It was obvious that Jaelyn was willing to risk using subjects prematurely, even the top candidates for success, rather than take a chance of losing him.
“When are you going to collect them?”
“A few weeks. There are a couple of other things I need to attend to first, because after we get them here, we’ll be very busy for a while.”
Hopefully we’ll be busy, he knew they were both thinking. Hopefully they’d be spending most of their time in the hospital, nursing new patients back to health. Otherwise, they would be right back where they were now, except with three fewer lines on the report and three more empty tanks in the lab.
Chapter 7
“So this is what you have to remember, Scythe: you got to know where everyone is, all the time. Use your ears, nose, eyes and feet.”
“Nose first, ‘cause it can be more reliable than sight or sounds,” Rend added, smoothly assuming the role of chief know-it-all.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Nose first.” Smoke corrected, nodding.
They both stood facing Scythe in his backyard. His mother was planting some new vegetable seeds in the garden, occasionally looking up and smiling at them. Since Smoke and Rend had started teaching Scythe just over a year ago, he and his mother had been spending more time alone at their house; when Scythe’s father was gone, they only saw his Auntie a few times a week, instead of all the time like they did before. This had made Scythe’s mother very happy, and she often told Scythe that things were getting better for them.
“Okay, so let’s practice the drill we learned yesterday.” When Rend nodded, Smoke said, “We’re each gonna take turns getting blindfolded, and tell what we hear, feel and, most importantly, smell. Then, later, we’ll play like a hide and go seek game, where we have to find each other by scent, plugging our ears.”
“Or, we could plug our noses and use our ears, that would work, too,” Rend offered.
“That’s a good one, Rend. Let’s do that, too.”
“Okay,” said an excited Scythe. He had come to love the sessions with his only true friends. Four times a week they met at his house after their regular training day. For three of the days, they spent an hour doing a physical workout: strength training, running, climbing, lifting things, balancing, and jumping. After that, they had combat training for another hour, even though Scythe was usually pretty tired by then. They occasionally taught him how to use weapons, usually a dagger or staff but there were others as well; however, most of the time was spent on open hand practice. The longer they worked, the more he got worn out, and the more his mind got fuzzy, until, by the end of the second hour, he was just reacting without thought. This was when his true skill level was shown, what he really could do, at any time.
The last day, like today, they taught him the other skills they were learning, like how to hide, find out information, locate things, study people, operate tools and machines, and how they ran their teams.
Smoke and Rend trained right alongside of him, using his education to further their skills; they already spent the majority of their time training for Keyrin’s Blades, and they used their own lessons as the basis for Scythe’s. At first, Scythe was pretty lost, unused to the level of hard work and concentration required to keep up with his mentors; but, after a few months, he began to show marked improvement, learning things faster, lasting longer and reacting better under pressure. When he received his first looks of genuine pride from the older boys, his motivation doubled and he started to practice on his own, preparing for their sessions. Now, despite an age difference of six years, he often surprised them with his performance in many of the drills and was nearly as good as them in a few exercises, like climbing and tracking. His ability to remember details and his visual perception was far better than either of theirs.
“Okay, I’ll go first,” said Rend, taking a cloth out of his pocket and wrapping it around his eyes. “You guys lead me somewhere, and I’ll tell you what’s around.”
Scythe took Rend’s hand, leading him around the side of the house and across the street.
“This isn’t going to work; I still know where I am.” He pointed straight ahead, “That’s...”
“Ok,” said Smoke. He spun his friend around ten times, “How about now?”
“Yeah, that works; you could have warned me though, jerk.”
Smoke and Scythe smirked, leading him along the street for a while, before turning to go between two houses and into the backyard of another house where they finally stopped.
“Okay, what do you sense?” Smoke asked.
“Well, we just passed between two walls, but we’re in a bigger space now. Since we haven’t gone that far, I’m thinking it's someone’s backyard. It smells real good, someone’s been baking.” He raised his face, turning slowly until the heat of it was fully on him. “We’re in the sun, it’s that way. There are a couple of trees nearby, there and there.” He pointed to where a fruit tree and an evergreen grew. “I can hear their leaves blowing and that one sounds louder, so I’m guessing its bigger. I can hear some bugs buzzing, probably in the shade there. There’s water dripping over there, into something metal, maybe a bucket. Someone with a light step is coming toward us, past the two walls...houses, I guess. Farther out, I can hear your neighbor’s dang dog that always barks at us, over that way.”
Smoke turned toward a girl that was coming into the backyard from the street, putting his finger to his mouth. She stopped, crossing her arms and smiling. “Who is it?”
“Hmmmm. Smells like rotten cheese and wet cat.” He laughed at the appalled screech. “That only leaves two people: a cat eating, cheese making hermit, or Serena.”
Scythe and Smoke’s chuckles broke into outright laughter, which got louder when the girl said, “You are such an idiot, Rend.”
Rend pretended to be searching with his hands, wandering around to find her. She smoothly stepped out of his wa
y, but he always wove back toward her. She finally increased her speed and led him over to where Scythe and Smoke stood; she grabbed Smoke and pushed him into Rend’s arms. “You two are such a pair of infants. Scythe, when are you going to start teaching them to grow up?”
“Why? This is more fun.”
Rend pulled off his blindfold and grinned at her. “Hey! It is Serena! That’s a relief.”
“Wow, big surprise. What are you guys doing here?”
“Playing.”
“Training.”
“Playing train.”
“Training planes.”
“Traying...”
“Oh, just shut up. Geez, you guys are hopeless. Do you want come in for something to eat?” She cut off Rend, his mischievous look giving him away. “And no cat jokes. Or cheese jokes. Just, no jokes. You sound like a bunch of idiot Humans.”
“Awww. That’s no fun. What a sourpuss,” Smoke laughed.
“Was it really necessary to say idiot and Humans?”
“It’s kind of redundant. Like saying catty girl.”
“Forget it. You guys aren’t invited, only Scythe.” She turned to Scythe and stroked his hair as if she were his mother. “Come on, honeycakes. How about you...and no one else...come in and have some cookies? We baked them just this morning...”
Scythe considered shrugging her off. He did not like to be treated like a little kid, but the mention of fresh baked cookies made him swallow his pride. Besides, he almost never got the chance to stick it to Rend. He played the baby, giving her a wide eyed, enthusiastic look, “That would be great, Serena!”
“Okay, then, come on in. See you guys later.” She led Scythe to the back door after turning her back sharply on the other boys.
“Serena, come on!” laughed Smoke, following close behind with Rend. “Don’t withhold the cookies! We need them to grow big and strong.”
As she reached for the handle, Rend shot forward and stood between her and the door. His eyes caught hers and held them. “Serena, may I please have some of your cooking? You know I love it.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and then glanced over his shoulder, but the grin spreading across her lips gave her away. “And the cheese smell?”
“It was Smoke. He always rubs his cheese on wet cats before he eats it; he says it’s the only way to really enjoy it.”
“What? You traitor! What a pansy.”
Serena let her grin relax into a smile, which she gave fully to Rend. When her green eyes sparkled at him, Rend went as still as a statue, except for one difficult swallow. His reaction pleased her to no end. “Well then, come on in, but just for a bit. I know you’ve got serious plane training to do...”
She gently pushed Rend aside, steering Scythe into the house. He glanced back to see Smoke cross his arms and glare at Rend expectantly.
“Hey, man. Cookies.”
Smoke gave him a considering look, before shrugging. “Ok, then, I’m good with it.”
They turned and entered the house, following the smell of sugar and flour and cinnamon.
-----------
He didn’t know why it aggravated him so much that she had told him to go. It was what he had decided anyway, why he had walked her to class, and then, when he couldn’t quite get around to telling her, why he had gone back to pick her up after. He only planned to tell her so she’d know what was going on when he left; he didn’t want her to think he was in trouble and go looking for him. She was just the type to do something stupid like that.
He had no idea why he had tried to pick a fight with her, because it didn’t matter to him what she thought anyway. It had just bugged him to find out that she was so pathetic. She usually strutted around like she was on a mission, a busy little bee. Sure, she’d had her little episodes, but nobody paid them any mind. If she looked around, she’d see that everyone was dealing with one thing or another; people were too busy with their own problems to notice what was going on with her or anyone else. Over half the students at the university were sleep deprived, although they were that way because they had lives interfering with their lives.
She didn’t have a life, though. She was in the middle of making her life, making herself into something he could be proud of. She didn’t have to work so hard at it, because the thing she was working towards was already long done, but hell if he was going to be the one to sit down and tell her that.
It had really pissed him off to feel her leaning on him, patting his arm like she wanted to reassure him, pretending that they were friends. She’d never been a friend to him. Shit, she’d tried to kill him twice, and he’d despised her since before she even knew who he was.
Sitting on a balcony, staring at the thunderclouds as if they were the most amazing thing on earth; might as well run around shouting, “Look at me! I was born in the city and never had to sweat a day in my life!” Smiling at everyone she saw, not noticing how the men grinned back, and then watched her ass when she passed by. Curious about him, because she was too naive to know you weren’t curious about strangers, stupid bitch, you ran from them. Never had a clue, not from the beginning.
Of course he knew why, now that he had lived with them. The whole lot of them were over the top insane. They had to live in some remote outpost at the farthest point from reality because they wouldn’t have survived a day any closer, even with heaven’s gift to idiots scrambling to keep them alive.
Well, let heaven’s gift come and get her, then, because he was about done with his time in hell.
He grabbed his duffle with nearly everything he needed packed inside and hitched it up over his shoulder.
If only she hadn’t told him to go just two minutes after proving she couldn’t even make it to her dorm without help. Stupid, useless, clueless bitch.
He hadn’t asked for this job, or any other special privileges or responsibilities. He wasn’t looking to get out on his own. They thought it would be good for him, which just went to show how stupid they were. He had been just fine until he got out here. Before he knew it, he started looking around and…Hey! Look at that! No one to stop him from doing...whatever. A few minutes here, an hour there...take off for a day, no one the wiser, cute little girl too busy to notice or care. Two days, still no surprises...Then, the question, “Why am I still here?”
His own words startled him in the quiet of his room. He answered himself, “Good question.”
He closed the door behind him, strode past the break room where a couple of soon-to-be-flunkies were playing video games and one girl had managed to burn soup from the smell of it. He took the stairs two at a time.
The whole time he had been growing up in the bordertown where he was born, everyone had talked about the cities as if they were the greatest places on earth...even better than the Kin cities, because they were made just for Humans, to grant their every wish. Almost no one ever got to go there, though, so it was as inevitable as the sun rising each morning that childhood wonder would age into mature resentment. Everyone envied cityfolk and hated them, all the while wanting more than anything to be them, just for one day.
That’s why you didn’t want to be walking aimlessly around a bordertown if you were from the city, because the chances of you running into someone in childhood wonder mode were slim, and the chances of hitting the hate and resentment jackpot were sky high.
So, wonder of wonders, here was a bordertown rat living it up in the big city, and what do you know? Bunch of idiots, just like everywhere else, except richer.
At the second floor he paused and, against his better judgment, went down the hall to knock on her door.
She opened it with one hand and in the other held out what he had come for, which was a little eerie. He looked down at it and then back at her.
“Take it. I know you need it.”
“I’m only taking off for a while. I just want a little space.”
“Okay,” she said noncommittally. She looked like she was thinking of saying something else, but then...didn’t.
He took the money and said, “Thanks.”
She nodded, “Good luck, Cord.” Then she shut the door.
Handful of money, no one looking over his shoulder, little girl has no problem with it... He was good to go.
Back down the hall, down the rest of the stairs, out the door, and nothing holding him back but a little quiet whispering. He hardly even noticed it.
-----------
Scythe turned onto his back and opened his eyes. It was no use. He wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon. His mind kept going over and over the plans they had made, looking for any weak points, trying to find a better way to accomplish the same thing, how to do it safer or faster. It got really bad when he started in on the contingencies: how, if he were them, he would counter their actions and then how he would react to that. It went on and on, for dozens of moves.
He shook his head. All his deliberating was a waste of time now. Temper had already left for Three Reeds, and Soshia’s other operatives were in motion as well. He didn’t have anything to do with it, which was good. He told himself it was good, and threw the blanket off, slid to the edge of the bed and pivoted to smoothly land flat on the floor. He started in on a set of pushups.
In his agent days, he would have been the one in motion. That was really where he preferred to be. It was harder to sit back and wait and see if you were right. Much harder, to let others who you suspected weren’t as good as you put themselves on the line.
It doesn't matter. He reminded himself that he was there for a limited time, doing a limited job. He wasn’t there to start working for the Scere again. He had another life that he needed to get back to. That life was more valuable to him than anything he could find at the end of the trails the Scere had sniffed out.
His body was feeling good and warm, so he sprung up and moved to the center of the room where he had space to go through a few of the many martial forms he used to keep his body and mind in shape. He started with a set of old kickboxing forms. The first time he went through them he’d go slow and be precise. After he had finished all eighteen forms, six of which he had learned just a year ago during a risky but educational trip to visit his old teacher, he went through them again. The second time, he focused on applying strength and power to each movement. Next, he’d work on speed. Finally, he’d do the forms several more times each, just moving without thinking. The last round, he’d try to include everything: speed, precision, power, all without thought.
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