by Hayes, Drew
Eliza wasn’t bothered by the fact that Tights had suffered. In her experience, everyone suffered; it was part of the human condition. No, what bothered her was that their early lives were so similar in so many ways, yet he’d turned into the kind of person who shoved a stranger, a thief, out of harm’s way at the expense of his own body. She would never have done that and held no illusion otherwise. Even caring for the person who’d saved her was a real stretch. All of her life she’d blamed that attitude on her circumstances, always justified her cutthroat nature by reasoning that it had been her only option. But talking with Tights made it clear that someone could come from the darkness and still be a source of light. It forced her to ask the honest question: was it really the fault of her circumstances she was like this, or was Eliza just a genuinely selfish person?
She tried not to dwell on the question; instead she kept her days filled with taking care of Tights, occasionally making runs for new supplies, and getting to know her injured patient. Well… that, and trying to convince him to let her call an ambulance. While she’d accepted his choice early on, with every passing day it was a little harder to swallow. She didn’t want… he didn’t deserve to die. Not like this. Not in a dirty shack with a thief as his only company. Eliza worked on him day after day, pleading, wheedling, manipulating, and conniving to try and get him to bend on his choice, but Tights was unshakable. He wouldn’t risk others for himself.
One night, lying next to him on the stack of padding, Eliza lifted her head to catch his blue eyes awake and staring at her. “See something you like?”
“I… um, sorry.” The few unmarred patches of his skin flushed and he glanced away.
“Uh oh, did I just catch you plotting to smother me in my sleep and then ditch out?”
“No, of course not. I was just thinking I was kind of glad that if I have to go, I was thankful I got to spend my last days like this, with someone like you.” He turned away as best he could, which mostly consisted of tilting his eyes upward toward the ceiling.
“Much as I appreciate the compliment, you’re not dead yet, Tights.” Eliza was still trying to keep the tone light, but when he looked at her again she knew the gambit had failed. Those stunning eyes had turned deadly serious. His voice wasn’t quite as strong though, words soft as he kept stopping and starting.
“You’ve done so much for me, Thief. More than I had any right to ask for or expect. But I can feel… I’m getting weaker. Thank you so much for all the help you’ve given me. I’ll never forget it, for what that’s worth. I think maybe you should go soon, though. You don’t… I’ve had to be there for the death of someone, when that train car burned with my father inside. I can’t do that to you, not after everything you’ve already given. In the morning, you should leave. You’ve done enough; I can face this last part on my own.”
Looking at him in that moment, Eliza knew two things for certain. The first was that he was lying through his teeth. Not about what was coming: they were both smart enough to see that all she’d done was buy him time. No, the lie was about wanting her to go. He was scared to be alone, to be in pain, to meet the end with no one at his side. But he didn’t want to hurt her, to make his pain hers, and that fact led to the second thing Eliza knew without question: somehow, a piece of her had gone and stupidly managed to fall in love with this idiot.
Or maybe it wasn’t all that surprising, really. Maybe Eliza had always been drawn to selfless, caring men and had simply never met one and discovered her preference. Whatever the reason, there was no denying how she felt once she saw it in herself. She didn’t want him to die. She didn’t want to live with the knowledge that someone this decent was gone and it was because of her. Mostly, though, Eliza didn’t think it was right to let one of the few good people she’d met in this world leave it so easily.
“You make it sound like you’re ready to die, Tights.”
To her surprise, he laughed. Nothing huge, just a small chuckle that ended in a wince. “I think I’ve been ready since I lost my father. I’m not suicidal or anything, I’ve just never been able to imagine a life where I got by without him. I always knew that one day my power would do me in. It’s a truth I accepted as soon as I knew what I was. Now that I’m finally getting close, though… I didn’t think I would be this scared.” Tears had formed at the edges of his eyes and were slowly sliding along his cheeks. “It might not have been a good life, but I think I did the best I could with it. And as much as I wish it were going on for longer, at least I didn’t hurt anyone this time. In fact, I got to save a wonderful person. That’s as good as it was ever going to get for me. For one moment, I got to play the Hero. Thank you, Thief, for giving me that.”
Eliza’s eyes were locked on his. Part of her admired the way he was facing his mortality, and respected the fact that his dearest wish was just to not injure others with his death. But another part of her, one much bigger and stronger than she’d have suspected, raged at the idea of this man being gone from the world. Before she’d stopped to think about it, she was kissing him, and he was kissing her back with all the strength he could muster.
They made love that night. It took some care and gentleness on both parts to work around his injuries, but the determined can always find a way. And when the sun rose, she gave Tights his medication along with an extra bit to make sure he slept soundly before she headed into town.
It didn’t take long for Eliza to find a payphone, and in seconds she dialed the number she’d memorized that day in the diner. She’d been sure at the time that she wouldn’t call it, but Eliza was never one to discard a useful tool. In all the scenarios she’d imagined driving her to this point, however, never once had she considered that she’d make this deal for someone else. But Tights had come from a world as bad as hers and turned out… good. Brave. Heroic.
She could do that too. She could make a sacrifice for someone other than herself.
Eliza could be more than just a thief, even if doing so meant going deeper into the shadows.
The man from the diner, Gerry, picked up on the third ring. “Hello Eliza, glad to hear from you. Is there something I can do?”
Brushing past the fact that he’d inexplicably known it was her, Eliza took a breath and steeled herself. “I’m willing to take you up on that employment offer, but I’m going to need something first. Consider it a signing bonus. I need a healer, a damn good one. The best you’ve got.”
The pause was brief, and when Gerry spoke again it was with irreproachable sincerity. “Of course, Eliza. We always provide our people with the best.”
201.
“I’ll pass the word along.” Adam took his time getting out of the pew, again making certain that none of his movements came off as aggressive. The meeting had gone better than expected; no sense in mucking it up at the end. “He’ll be glad to hear you’re on board. We were all sort of wondering who would make the initial approach.”
“You knew we would approach… Of course you did. Because Abridail has been feeding information in both directions, hasn’t he?” It was always a risk when working with an untested asset, especially one that was impossible to monitor, but Nick had still hoped they’d have a little more time before Globe and crew knew exactly how much they’d uncovered.
“Can’t really blame the guy. He’s completely helpless in the physical space; it only makes sense for him to have a few contingency plans for his body in case there’s trouble. If it makes you feel any better, Globe warned me that you might hunt me down this year before we ever came back to Lander,” Adam said.
Now that was news Nick hadn’t been expecting. “That so? What made him think that?”
“Something to do with when you two met in May. He told me you had the look of a man who’d let himself be dragged into hell before he’d let go of something that mattered to him. Once you turned your sights on flushing me out, it was only a matter of time until you succeeded.” Adam paused, looking at the church’s doors for a moment. “There is one thing we need t
o set straight before either of us leaves here: are you planning to blow my cover? If so, I need to bolt until everything has settled down. If not, then I’ve got some homework to do.”
It was a reasonable question, and also something of a test disguised as an olive branch. This was the first chance to show that there could be trust between them. Whatever Nick told Adam, the real question was whether he would stick to it or not. If he did, he was laying a foundation; otherwise he was proving himself not to be trusted. The moment wasn’t lost on Nick in the slightest, which was why he didn’t do anything as silly as offer an immediate answer.
“Are you planning to try and graduate? Because no offense, but I think you’re a little too much like me to make a good Hero. Maybe if you were going the Subtlety route we could talk, but as things stand I don’t think you need to take up one of those ten spots.”
There was a flash of a smirk on Adam’s face, so quick that if Nick had blinked he’d have missed it. “I was tempted a few times, if we’re being honest with each other. But no, being a Hero was never part of the end game. I’ve stayed in the middle for a reason; the plan was always for me to drop out when I was discovered or let myself sink in the rankings if I made it to the end. I don’t know what kind of life I’ll have when this is all over, but I know Hero work won’t be part of it.”
“Then I don’t mind keeping your secret for a while longer,” Nick said. “However, once I think Dean Blaine and the others are ready to hear the truth without overreacting, I may need to bring them in on it. Is that going to be an issue?”
“Not as long as you give me a little warning. Can’t risk being caught unaware; there’s a reputation to think of.” Adam started heading toward the church doors, and Nick followed. “Also, don’t be shocked if I don’t put you in touch with Globe right away. After we talked with Abridail, he had a hunch one of you might be reaching out to us, so he’s working on a little surprise. Something to show his goodwill.”
“Dare I even ask?”
“Feel free, although I don’t know what it is,” Adam admitted. “All Globe would tell me is that he’s getting Dean Blaine something from the very top of his wish list.”
* * *
Dinner ended pleasantly enough. Vince ordered a basket of wings that were hotter than expected and had to hurriedly chug down a glass of milk, but that contributed to the spirit of the evening rather than pulling away from it. Eliza took a curious delight in watching a man who was now virtually immune to things like fire or punching be brought low by something as innocuous as too much spice. It reminded her that under all the muscle, determination, and power, Vince was still the same guy he’d always been: kind, steadfast, and a little dopey at times. She took solace in that, even as the thought pained her.
The text that things were clear came before dessert arrived, though she still took her time enjoying the lava cake. It was nice, spending time with someone she cared so much about, even if the foundation of their relationship had changed. More than anything, Eliza found herself looking back at the way things had played out, reflecting on the choice she’d made, and realizing that she had no regrets. Gerry had turned out to be a great mentor who was true to his word: he really had opened up a whole new world of opportunities for her. Hell, it was thanks to Gerry that she was going to have a college education. Even if things had gone badly, she felt like she would have still been at peace with her choice. Eliza didn’t have a lot of moments in life she could look back on proudly, knowing that she’d done the right thing. Vince, Tights, was one of those few, and seeing how he’d grown since she saved his life reminded Eliza that even people like her could do good in the world.
When the meal came to an end Vince walked her to her car, giving her a hug with those strong arms to say goodbye. He didn’t linger suggestively in the embrace, because of course he didn’t. Vince lived by his commitments. It was part of what made him… him. Maybe things would be different, if he knew what she’d done for him, if he’d thought of her as more than the woman who’d abandoned him without explanation. But that was one revelation he would have to live without.
Vince already carried enough baggage. This piece Eliza could handle on her own.
202.
Had Dean Blaine been a bit more romantically aggressive in his youth, he might have worried about how the invitation would come off. Inviting Clarissa over to his home, just the two of them, could have sent the wrong message if they’d ever come close to exceeding their friendship. Thankfully, that issue had never arisen between them, in college or after. Each of them had already given their hearts to someone else, and both respected the other too much to try and use them as a temporary surrogate of affection. So Clarissa didn’t bat an eye when Dean Blaine invited her to join him for a home-cooked meal. Perhaps she suspected that under his wily, shy grin he had other intentions than just conversation, but she wouldn’t mistake it as an attempt at courting. It was one small concession in a night that threatened its fair share of potential pitfalls.
“Next senior trial is coming up soon,” Clarissa noted, helping herself to another glass of chardonnay. “Is it one of the recalibrating ones, or the other big bad?”
“Big bad, I’m afraid.” Dean Blaine always tried not to think too hard about this next trial when it approached each year: the stress it would put on his students and the truths it could reveal were both extremely dangerous. No one would get hurt – unless they royally screwed up, of course – but it would be a genuine shock if they didn’t lose a few more students from the program. The one upside to the debacle with Globe was that Dean Blaine had managed to shove the impending test from his mind. “There have been suggestions that we draw inspiration from real life for the exact scenario, but I feel it adds more emotional weight than necessary, even for a trial like this one.”
“I’m sure you’ll make the right call. You’ve done a great job educating these kids. I’m really impressed with the crop Lander is turning out, and I’m far from the only one.”
Dean Blaine grabbed the bottle and refilled his wine. “Thank you, but I only teach the ethics classes and handle the administrative work. The real credit goes to their professors; our amazing staff is the reason why the students are so strong.”
“Be as modest as you like, we all know that attitude and leadership come from the top,” Clarissa said. “You’ve set a strong standard and the others are following the example.”
It wasn’t the best opening in the world, but it was the clearest one Dean Blaine had seen since the conversation started. Not wanting to wait any longer, he decided to make it work however he could. They didn’t have all night; it was time to get down to business. “I never thought I’d be the one to go back to Lander, you know. I always figured it would be… well, Phil spent so much time helping the rest of us, he seemed like he’d be a natural fit for a teacher. If things hadn’t happened the way they did, he’d probably be the Lander dean by now.”
“Hate to say it, but I disagree.” Clarissa’s next sip of wine was measured; she was staying keenly aware of her alcohol intake. “Phil would have never hung up the cape. He might have thought he’d do it eventually, once his reaction time got slow or his bones got weak, but he wouldn’t. Just wasn’t in him to give up the good fight. He was always destined to die in the field.”
“Probably taking some threat to the entire world along with him,” Dean Blaine agreed. “It’s hard to believe that man is the one who turned on his team and killed his best friend. I mean that quite literally. It was difficult for me to swallow even after I saw the tapes. Do you really think he turned?”
“Please, Blaine, I get that question enough from DVA–”
“Because I don’t.” Dean Blaine felt bad about cutting her off, but it was important to make his stance clear so they could proceed. His words hung in the air between them, a dangerous idea that Clarissa was no doubt weighing carefully. Dean Blaine didn’t look away as she watched him. He had nothing to hide. He really didn’t believe that Globe was a
traitor; part of him had never accepted it. Even if Abridail didn’t turn out to be telling the whole truth, Blaine knew the man he’d trained alongside. Globe wouldn’t turn, especially not on Intra, not unless he’d been deceived.
“You don’t what?” Clarissa said finally. It was a careful move, one he could respect. She was testing the waters to see how firmly he was willing to commit.
“I don’t think Phil betrayed Joshua. I know he killed him, but I believe he did so under false information. I think Phil thought – that he believed, deep down – that he had to kill Joshua to keep innocent people safe. And even until the end, I don’t think he really bought it. I think he was just shoved into a corner by people that knew him well enough to orchestrate it. They played on his deepest fear of losing family, pushed his buttons until they got the desired reaction: one quick, deadly strike.”
If Clarissa wasn’t aligned with Phil, there was a good chance she’d storm out, cursing Blaine’s name the whole time. No one was grilled harder than her when news of Globe’s treachery broke. Even his brother took received less scrutiny since Charles had been part of the effort to stop Globe. But for Clarissa, the dear friend with a not-so-secret crush, always at Phil’s side, there had been no such defense. Accepting that Phil was a killer would have been nearly impossible for her. Dean Blaine was betting heavily that it was so impossible she’d never managed it, even though he knew that if she had then anyone suggesting he might be innocent was ripping open an old wound, one that had never healed properly in the first place.
“That’s quite a theory, Blaine. A dangerous theory, because the pool of people who might know Phil well enough to do that is extremely limited. I’d say it’s just Joshua, who is dead, myself, who I hope you’re not accusing of anything, and Charles. I would be very careful before I started leveling accusations against Charles Adair.” Clarissa’s whole body had gone tense; she was on the edge of her stool, ready to react to any sort of attack or trap Dean Blaine might spring.
