We Three Heroes

by Lynette Noni

  Mentally joining the dots together with Johnny’s ‘another favour’ statement, Bear said to Jeera, “I’m guessing I have you to thank for getting me through the academy wards?” He looked around. “And the ChemTech ones, too?”

  Jeera offered him a sly grin and threw something his way. He snatched it out of the air and turned it over in his hands, recognising it as another Bubbler vial.

  “That’ll take you back whenever you’re ready,” she said, but there was no explanation given for how she’d organised the two authorised Bubbledoors.

  Bear returned her grin and said, “You Wardens and your secrets.”

  She winked at him as she leaned against Blake. “Secrets and favours. That’s our currency.”

  “Bit of an abuse of power, don’t you think?” Bear asked, only half joking.

  She cocked a dark eyebrow over her striking eyes, holding out her hand with her palm facing upwards. “If you think so, feel free to give me that and find your own way back to the academy.”

  Bear quickly pocketed the vial, ignoring the quiet laughs of his brothers.

  “What’s this favour, Johnny?” Jeera asked, turning their attention from Bear—to his gratitude. “And how much trouble are you going to get me in?”

  When Johnny shuffled guiltily, Jeera sighed and untangled herself from Blake, crossing her arms. “That bad, huh?”

  “Let’s just say it’s good you’re still wearing your uniform,” Johnny replied. “It’ll look like what we’re doing is official business, rather than—”

  Jeera interrupted by holding up a hand. “Never mind. The less I know the better.”

  Johnny scratched his nose as if hoping it would hide his smile. He then looked to Blake and Bear and said, “We’ll be back in ten.”

  Jeera didn’t ask any questions, she just sighed again and rolled her eyes to the heavens, resignation plastered over her features.

  Bear, however, said, “Wait—why can’t we come?”

  “Because we’re going to the vault,” Johnny answered, grabbing a second tablet from a drawer in his desk. “Only those with the highest level of security can enter, and they have to have a Warden with them at all times.” He nodded towards Jeera. “I can hack through the security, but it’d take more time than we have to convince the system that I have a Warden escort. And while I can easily scramble the footage taken in the corridors to keep you both from being caught on film, I’d rather not risk someone discovering my digital fingerprint in the erased files if I don’t have time to cover my tracks. It’s safer for everyone if you two stay here until we return—and I’ll get to keep my job that way.”

  “Not to mention, stay out of prison,” Jeera said under her breath.

  For someone supposedly responsible for upholding the law, Bear couldn’t help thinking Jeera was a little relaxed when it came to their current situation—and others, since she’d also helped them out with their unauthorised Nialas trip last week. Not that he was complaining. His dad probably would have acted the same, especially if he knew it was for a good reason.

  “Whatever you’re doing, be quick,” Bear said. “And don’t get caught.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” Johnny said as he led the way towards the door, placing his hand against the panel to activate the unlocking mechanism, prompting it to slide open. Seconds later, he and Jeera disappeared around the corner and the door slid shut again.

  “Now we wait,” Blake said, taking a seat and lifting his feet until they rested on the coffee table, his legs going straight through the hologram of Fitzy’s design. “And while we do, you can explain what the hell we’re all doing here, little brother.”

  Four

  Ten minutes came and went, with no sign of Johnny and Jeera.

  Blake kept Bear’s mind off what might be happening by filling him in on how his relationship with the Warden had developed. Apparently he’d been chasing her for years, but she’d never given him the time of day until she was appointed as the protective detail for one of his diplomatic missions. He didn’t go into details, but Bear got the gist enough to figure out that Jeera had saved Blake’s ass when things had turned pear-shaped, and he’d somehow twisted her arm into a ‘thanks for saving my life’ dinner afterwards. They’d been inseparable ever since.

  … Or, so Blake said. But knowing his brother, Bear presumed Jeera might have a different story to share, and he hoped one day he’d get to hear it.

  Just when Bear was pacing enough to wear a track into the marble floor beside the holo-mural that now showed the beach bathed in moonlight, the door slid open and Johnny and Jeera burst through it, both panting and red-faced. Johnny slammed his palm against the TCD panel, sealing the room again, and he held up a hand when both Bear and Blake opened their mouths to demand answers.

  “Give him a second,” Jeera said between lungfuls of air. “There was a… complication. He needs to make sure no one realises we took anything.”

  Took anything? Bear repeated the words in his head, his eyes travelling over both of them and finding nothing obvious that they might be carrying.

  Johnny’s fingers moved so quickly that they almost blurred, with him inputting command codes and security overrides on first one tablet and then the second. Only after forty-eight long seconds—with Bear counting each one—did he release a breath and say, “We’re good.”

  Jeera wilted in relief, but then she moved until she was beside Johnny and promptly punched him in the arm. Hard.

  “Ow!” Johnny’s free hand covered his bruised flesh, a scowl on his face.

  “You deserved that,” Jeera said, returning his scowl. “Don’t deny it.”

  He didn’t. Whether because of the look on her face, the look on Blake’s face, or the truth of her words, Bear wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll admit, I didn’t think to check for a virtual watchdog,” Johnny said sheepishly as he placed both tablets on the messy desk. “That was my bad.”

  Jeera looked as if she was about to hit him again, but Blake wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close—perhaps to comfort her, but more likely to contain her.

  “What happened?” Blake asked.

  Bear wanted to know that, too.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Johnny said with a shake of his head. “We both survived. And as far as I can tell, no one will ever know what we did.”

  Survived? Now Bear really wanted to know.

  “Heads up,” Johnny called, and Bear watched a black object sail through the air towards him. He caught it, discovering it to be a dense, glossy sphere that fit neatly into the palm of his hand.

  Bear looked at his brother in question.

  “That, little bro, is the answer you’ve been looking for,” Johnny said.

  Rotating the sphere between his fingers, Bear peered closely at it. “How so?”

  In answer, Johnny picked up one of his tablets again and swiped until he found what he was searching for. He then activated the holographic function, with the schematics for the globe Bear held now rising into the air.

  Bear read through the materials and structure of the black sphere, his eyes widening at the complexity of the algorithms inspiring its creation. “Am I reading this right?”

  “I don’t understand a word of it,” Blake said, squinting at the equations. “What does that squiggle mean?”

  Neither Johnny nor Bear answered him—Bear, because he was staring at Johnny in wonder, and Johnny because he was grinning smugly back.

  “Given the look on your face, I’d say yes, you’re reading it right,” Johnny answered.

  Bear blinked, then blinked again as he read the formula once more. It shouldn’t be possible—it couldn’t be possible. It was so beyond what he thought Technos were capable of creating. It wasn’t just next-gen; it was next-gen.

  “You’re telling me,” Bear said in a choked voice, “that inside this”—he held up the sphere—“is a pocket… in space?”

  “With enough room for both your solutions and the aerosol spring-rel
ease mechanism that you’ve already drafted plans for,” Johnny said. “Once it’s all ready to go, this little device should allow the mixture to spray at least twenty metres in every direction.”

  This was exactly what Bear had been looking for. It was the solution to all the problems that had arisen each time he’d thought he’d found an answer, only to discover that the size limitations of Fitzy’s original design were too restrictive. But now…

  “This is—I mean—” Bear gathered his wits and tried again. “Can it be mass produced? Quickly?”

  “If you know the right people and have the right equipment,” Johnny said, “then yeah.”

  Jeera made a groaning sound. “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to ask for yet another favour?” She speared a look from Johnny to Blake and said to her boyfriend, “You owe me for this. Your family is going to give me a stomach ulcer.”

  Blake answered by leaning in and kissing her, whispering something against her lips that had her blushing—something Bear was happy not to have heard. Johnny, too, if the look on his face was anything to judge by.

  “We’ll get things moving on our end and start a production line,” Johnny said, swiping Bear’s ComTCD from the coffee table and transferring over the files from his own tablet containing the sphere’s design. “Show these blueprints to Fitzy and make sure they’re compatible with whatever his two solutions are. Also run your plans for the spring-release valve by him and see if he has any improvements. That’s not really my field, but I do think what you’ve drafted is really solid.” The proud look he wore had Bear fighting his own blush. “Once Fitzy gives you the go-ahead, we’ll liaise with him directly and have him oversee the completion and distribution of the devices.”

  Bear nodded, but warned, “Fitzy can seem a bit…” He searched for an appropriate description, and settled on saying, “He might seem as if he has a few screws loose. But he’s one of the smartest men I know.”

  Jeera snorted, causing all eyes to turn her way.

  “Fitzwilliam Grey is a nut-job, plain and simple,” she said. “When I was at Akarnae, he set himself on fire no less than twelve times—in my first month alone.” She held Bear’s eyes as she added, “Each time, he giggled as if it were the most hilarious thing in the world. If he even noticed at all. More often than not, one of us had to jump up and smother the flames because he kept right on working.”

  Bear coughed to hide a laugh at the incredulous looks on both Johnny and Blake’s faces, neither having had firsthand experience with the professor. They did, however, know his brother, Anton Grey, who owned Double Bubble in Woodhaven—and since Anton was almost as whacky as Fitzy, they shouldn’t have been too surprised to hear of the similarities between their personalities.

  “But,” Jeera went on, “despite that, I still agree with you. He’s brilliant. And I can’t help thinking the mad professor act is just that—a performance.”

  Bear wasn’t so sure, but he was relieved to hear Jeera’s vote of confidence. Still, he told his brothers, “Don’t expect him to remember your name—or mine. Just respond if you think he’s talking to you, regardless of what he calls you.”

  Jeera laughed knowingly, nodding in agreement. Both Johnny and Blake looked increasingly apprehensive, but they withheld from airing their concerns.

  “It’s nearly curfew—you’d better get going before I have to cover for you, too,” Jeera told Bear after checking the time on her ComTCD.

  At the ‘too’ addition, Bear looked at her with curiosity.

  Her eyes were bright with humour as she said, “Kaiden and Alex stopped by my aunt’s place for a late-night supper earlier this week. They seemed very cosy together. And they didn’t leave until long after curfew was in effect.”

  Bear raised his eyebrows at that, while Blake and Johnny snickered.

  Knowing Alex would share if and when she was ready, Bear only said, “Right. No alibi needed for me—I’m going now.” He indicated towards the sphere and the plans now transferred to his ComTCD as he said to Johnny, “Thank you. Really.”

  Instead of offering a cocky reply, Johnny’s expression was serious when he quietly said, “We all have to do our part if we’re to survive the coming storm. Never be afraid to ask for help, Bear. That’s what family’s for.”

  Bear felt his throat tighten as he stepped forward and embraced his eldest brother. He knew Johnny had risked a lot in stealing the sphere from the ChemTech vault—and handing over the confidential files to Bear. Blake, too, had risked much when he’d used his influence to escort Bear and his friends on their trip to Nialas last weekend. They were debts Bear could never repay. And yet, because Johnny and Blake were his brothers, Bear knew he didn’t have to repay them. As Johnny had said—that was what family was for.

  “C’mere, little bro,” Blake said, pulling Bear from Johnny and into a rough hug, messing his hair as he let him go.

  “Hey!” Bear cried, trying to flatten the dark haystack now atop his head, with little success.

  “Hopefully next time I see you, it won’t involve anything illegal,” Jeera said, a wry smile on her face.

  Considering everything she’d done for him that night, Bear didn’t hesitate to move forward and wrap his arms around her. “Thank you,” he said quietly before he pulled away again. He then grinned and added, “And no promises.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Hardly surprising, given the company you keep. And I don’t mean these two.”

  Bear’s grin only widened and he saw little point in denying her claim. Instead, he donned his coat and smashed the Bubbler vial she’d given him onto the marble floor, waving to the three of them as he stepped through and back to the icy landscape of the academy.

  The wind had eased considerably in the hours Bear had been gone, with night having well and truly fallen upon the snow-covered grounds. He knew he had barely minutes left before curfew set in, but rather than head towards the entrance of the dormitory, Bear instead took off towards the Tower building to share what he’d learned with his Chemistry professor.

  After tracking his way through the snow and ascending the inner staircase of the Tower, Bear approached the door to Fitzy’s chamber. He raised his hand to knock, but paused when he heard a strange sound from within.

  Bear had visited Fitzy’s personal rooms a number of times over the course of his years at the academy, mostly when the professor forgot one thing or another with the extra credit projects he set. Unusual sounds were considered normal when it came to Fitzy’s quarters: popping, bubbling, crackling, sparking—chemical reactions and workshop noises, including wood- and metal-work construction sounds, depending on what the professor was working on.

  Never, however, had Bear heard anything like what was now reaching his ears.

  Because the sound coming from the other side of the door—that was singing.

  Fitzy singing.

  And badly.

  Bear winced when the professor attempted a high note, the warbling screech piercing straight through the door, before he trilled an off-key melody that had Bear wanting to cover his ears. The professor might have been able to solve complex equations in his sleep, but he was clearly as tone deaf as they came.

  Eager to save what was left of his hearing, Bear pounded on the door—hard. He had to do so twice more before the sound travelled through enough for Fitzy’s singing to cease, and there was a shuffling noise before the door was finally opened.

  It was one of the most challenging things Bear had ever done, but somehow he managed to keep a straight face at the sight of his professor wearing a fluffy pink dressing gown complete with rainbow slippers and bumblebee earmuffs.

  “Bartholomew,” Fitzy said, holding a mug that was bedazzled with glitter and multi-coloured twinkle lights. “Is it Monday again already?”

  Bear blinked. “Erm, no, sir. It’s still Friday night.”

  “You’ll have to speak up, Bernard,” Fitzy said, raising his own voice until he was nearly yelling. “I’m afraid my hearing
’s not what it once was.”

  It crossed Bear’s mind to wonder what liquid was in the twinkling mug—and just how strong it was—as he reached forward and tapped a finger against the earmuffs. The googly eyes of the bees jiggled almost sickeningly, and Bear couldn’t stop watching them as Fitzy got the hint and lowered the earmuffs until they were wrapped around his neck.

  “Goodness, the silence is loud tonight,” Fitzy commented, and for some reason he did so while squinting his eyes and shielding them as if from a glare.

  Once more, Bear wondered what, exactly, his professor was drinking. He also wondered if perhaps he might be better off returning in the morning.

  “What brings you by, Bradford?” Fitzy asked. “Chloe’s not loose again, is she? Last time she ate her way through my favourite pair of socks—and the stone walls around which they were kept. A marvellous creature, if temperamental.”

  Bear had absolutely no idea what his professor was rambling about. Desperate now to escape before his own sanity was compromised, he said, “Sir, if you’re up for it, I have a solution for the project you tasked me with.”

  In the space of a breath, everything about Fitzy changed. Gone was the unfocused babbler and in his place was someone giving Bear his full attention. The transformation was telling enough for Bear to wonder whether Jeera had been right—if the crazy professor act was just a performance.

  If so, Fitzy was doing a bang-up job of it.

  “Come in, come in, Boris,” the professor urged, ushering Bear into his quarters. “No time to waste.”

  More uncertain than he’d ever been when stepping into Fitzy’s rooms, Bear paid only half a mind to the gurgling fluids set up in the corner workspace, and he didn’t so much as blink at the green flames travelling up one of the stone walls from floor to ceiling. Instead, he kept his eyes on his professor, wondering whether he was dealing with the eccentric genius, the focused genius… or someone else entirely.

  “Sit, sit,” Fitzy said, indicating for Bear to take a seat in front of the unlit fireplace. The green flames were warming the room enough without the grate needing to be kindled. “Tell me what you’ve discovered.”