Hayden yelled and slammed his fist into the heavy bag as hard as he could, sending the sawdust rig rocking in earnest. Despite his wrapped wrists, the blow shivered all the way to his shoulder. He placed his hands on his head and walked in a circle, breathing.
Hayden couldn’t stop hearing that baritone voice, over and over. God, was there nothing that old bastard hadn’t touched? He wanted to scream, run, anything to drown it out. But he couldn’t run from it any more than his own voice, calmly speaking in the back of his head, just like always.
Deckard was right. Just because you don’t like his reasons doesn’t make them wrong.
Hayden stutter-stepped sideways toward the slowing bag, left foot behind right, and caught it with a sidekick that sent it swaying again.
Nice form. Who taught you that again?
Wasn’t that the problem? What did he have that Deckard didn’t give him? What could he count on, now the old man had drilled a freaking hole in everything? Hayden paced faster in his circle, trapped with his own thoughts.
So, the scholarship for college, how to change a tire, how to shave, all of that doesn’t count now?
Hayden shook his head. “He lied! About everything! Who he was, what he’s done, why he was training me. And I bought it all! Lapped it up like a...like a pet!”
Like a son?
“That man is not my father!”
Woah! Issues much?
“Aggh, shut UP! No wonder no one likes you, jackass.” Hayden turned toward the door to see Vivian standing in the open doorway. He slowed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop his circuit of the room.
“Of course you’re there. Listen, I’d like to be alone for a bit. I’m working through some…” Hayden approached the heavy bag and thudded a left hook on it. “...Stuff.”
“I figured that. That’s why I waited an hour for you to come back on your own.”
“Yeah? A whole hour? Wow. What patience! You learn that with the SAS? Make it to two this time, and you can open a Zen temple.”
Vivian took a couple of steps into the dojo. “What is your problem? I came out here because I was worried. Mr. Deckard is too. He…”
“Do not mention that man to me.” Hayden spun back toward her, and she took a step back, a flash of fear widening her eyes. Shame and embarrassment doused his anger and returned it to a smolder. He placed one hand on a hip and covered his face with the other for a moment, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. I...look, I’m angry and I’m trying to get a handle on it.”
“Okay, I get that,” Vivian said. “I don’t really understand why, though. What did he say to you?”
Hayden looked up and waved her away. “I know you’re gorgeous and all, but I just met you. I’m not ready to have this conversation. You don’t know me.”
“I’m trying to.” A slight, concerned smile bloomed on her face.
Hayden walked to a sidewall and placed his back against it, sliding down the wood panels to slump on the floor with one leg stretched out. Vivian sat down cross-legged where she was. Hayden stared into space for a minute and then undid his wrist wrappings as he talked.
“My Dad died in Somalia in ‘93. Mogadishu. That was when the dreams started. Every night for a year, I burned to death in my nightmares. I was eleven.
“Mom thought it was stress from Dad’s death, but it wouldn’t go away. She took me to psychologists and psychiatrists, a minister, even a camp for ‘troubled’ kids. Nothing worked.
“I’m not sure how she got Deckard’s number. Anyway, he told me it was dreams, too, but unlike everyone else, he didn’t try to make them go away. He just taught me how to fight them, how to endure them. And he showed me what he could do.
“He took an interest in me. Most every afternoon I was over here for something: tutoring for school, martial arts, rafting trips at Ocoee. Then one afternoon he brings me to the dojo and tells me I can do some of what he can, too.
“Do you have any idea what that was like? Merlin just offered to train me to be like him, larger than life, invincible. And I wanted to be.”
Hayden gave a rueful chuckle. “Y’know, I used to hope he and my mom would hook up? Right up into high school, I kept thinking how awesome it would be to have a whole family again.” He finished unwinding his wraps and chucked them across the floor. “Then today, I find out he only did all of that for me in case he needed to murder me before I became a threat.”
He finally looked at Vivian to see tears trickling down her face.
“Hayden, I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
Hayden shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll be okay.” He stood up. “I just need some time. Alone.”
He watched Vivian stand up herself. She bit her lip, wiping at her wet face. “I’ll go, but…I know I don’t have the history you two do, but I know what I see. The night we first got here, the night you almost died? He was so worried about you. Saving you was all that mattered, even more than sharing his secret with a girl he’d never met.”
Hayden looked away from the plea in her eyes and clenched his fists.
“Thank you for trusting me. Just think about what I said, okay?”
The floor creaked as she walked to the door. The room grew colder, emptier as her footsteps receded. In that moment, he realized he didn’t want her to leave. What did he want?
He forced himself to open his hands and look up. “Vivian?”
She stopped with one hand on the doorframe and turned around. “Yes?”
“As long as you’re here…” He motioned to the racks of weapons, weights, and the bag. “I’m in the market for a new partner. You game?”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Before you can use the Axiom properly, you have to understand what it is.”
Vivian sat cross-legged on the mat a few feet from Hayden, who knelt with his feet tucked directly under him. Sweat darkened his blonde hair and made his t-shirt stick to the muscles of his chest. Vivian pulled her eyes back up and made herself pay attention.
“We call it the Axiom because it is the unavoidable reality behind reality, the true, irreducible structure of the universe. Think of it as the framework the Creator stretched everything over to make the world.
“Its primary purpose is to strengthen and connect. Here.” Hayden reached to the side and picked up two simple wooden blocks with identical carvings on the faces. He placed them about a foot apart and then touched each block with an index finger. The markings on one face of the blocks glowed with energy, slowly getting brighter.
Without warning, the blocks spun and slid together with a loud crack. Vivian yelped and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Vivian fought down a blush as she returned her hand to her lap. “Wasn’t expecting it.”
“Hey, when Deck...when I was first learning this, I nearly broke a finger with these things.” Hayden pulled the blocks apart and showed her the weird script as the light faded from them.
“The amount of energy you put into it determines the strength of the connection, and the pattern determines the type of connection.
“When I make a construct…” Hayden held out a hand, and a bar of that softly glowing golden light extended a few inches from his palm. “...I draw a tiny portion of energy from the Axiom into a pattern that my will makes. The Axiom then connects and strengthens the elements around it: dust, light, heat, air. This creates the bar you’re looking at.” The bar popped like a soap bubble and dissipated into a cloud of glowing embers that quickly faded out. “It’s connecting ‘This’ to ‘That.’”
“So you can make anything?”
Hayden tilted his hand back and forth in a “sort of” gesture. “Most things that aren’t too complicated. No moving parts, interlocking gears, for example. But I can control the dimensions of the object by adjusting the pattern I want to make, so long as I’m touching it at the time.
“That’s just one application. You’ve seen…” Vivian practically
saw Mr. Deckard’s name flash above Hayden’s head in a thought bubble. “You’ve seen portals opened. That’s connecting space directly with another space. ‘Here’ to ‘There’”.
“When you get visions of possible futures, you’re projecting the Axiom through time, instead of space or matter. You’re connecting ‘Now’ to ‘Then.’”
“How can I do that if I don’t know what I’m doing?”
Hayden nodded. “This is apparently the dangerous part. The Axiom runs through everything. If it exists, it’s connected to the Axiom. But some people are more sensitive to it. Their connection is deeper, more complete.
“This is our theory about Primes. That what the Event actually did was nudge humanity slightly closer to the Axiom. All these new powers are just expressions of Axiom connections shining through a billion new prisms. When did the visions start for you, before or after the flash?”
“After, though…” Vivian paused, remembering. “Before the flash, I would get these...premonitions, I guess. I’d know my Dad was about to walk in the door, even though I couldn’t have known he was home yet.”
Hayden’s grey eyes shone. “That could be it exactly. People like you were just barely touching the Axiom, intuitively.
“But there’s more to it. Here.” He scooted forward, sliding on his knees, and reached out to touch her face, gently covering her swollen eye. “I’m not very good at this, so it may hurt.”
Vivian fought to keep her breathing under control, as warmth suddenly radiated out of Hayden’s fingertips and seeped into the tender skin of her eye socket and cheek. A faint glow made her squeeze her eyes shut. She trembled, intensely aware of Hayden’s touch, the sound of his breathing, and the cool of the air against her arms and neck. She shivered as the heat around her eye increased, bordering on painful.
After a few seconds, the heat stopped, and Hayden withdrew his hand. “There,” he said. “How’s that?”
Vivian opened her eyes and knew at once the left one was opening further. She tested the swelling around the eye socket. “It’s a lot less swollen. Thank you.”
Hayden put on that cocky grin, though his eyes looked tired. “Battlefield healing. I’ve been practicing with it every day since I got shot. It’s not great for open wounds, but it’s just the thing for swelling and bruises. Like I said, I’m not that good at it, but your body knows how to heal itself. It supplies the pattern, and the Axiom restores you to that state. The trick is to supply just enough and not to alter the pattern more than necessary.”
“How did you learn to control it?”
“Practice. Once you’re aware of the connection, you can command it. It’s like breathing. When you’re not paying attention, your breath goes at the rate you instinctively need depending on what you’re doing. If you focus, you can control…”
A phone rang. Vivian caught sight of Hayden’s cell phone in the corner. Hayden turned and glanced at it and then back at Vivian.
“One sec.” He hopped up and jogged to scoop up the phone. “Hello?”
Vivian saw his face twist up as he said, “Mr. Wolfe. I’m sorry, sir, I should have called in.”
Mr. Wolfe? As in Marcus Wolfe?
“I...No, sir. Yes, sir. You heard about that? Yes. I was just…” He looked at Vivian and smiled slightly. “...Helping a friend move close by. My partner and I had to take care of business, but it’s all settled now. I can be at the office in an hour. Okay. Thank you, Mr. Wolfe, I really appreciate it. I will, sir. Goodbye.”
He hung up, and Vivian asked, “Was that who I think it was?”
Hayden nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Listen, I need to clean up and run. I haven’t been to work in a solid two days, and my boss is asking questions.”
“Marcus Wolfe is your boss?” Vivian stood up and walked over to Hayden.
“Yeah. Well, sort of. He’s my boss’s boss. And he’s been covering for me, but I’m out of excuses. I promise I’ll fill you in on everything, answer any question you have, but it’ll have to be later. I’m sorry.”
“No, I get it.”
“I’ll make it up to you. Over dinner?” Hayden smiled at her, and Vivian’s pulse sped up, but she narrowed her eyes and feigned skepticism.
“I don’t know. You keep secrets from the whole world. How do I know I can trust you?”
“I promise not to cook.”
Vivian laughed and answered Hayden’s grin with a wide smile of her own.
Vivian tapped the door with her knuckles. “Mr. Deckard?”
“Come.”
She opened the door to Deckard’s bedroom. Warmth spilled from the room into the much cooler hall. A tidy fire crackled cheerily behind a brass screen in the fireplace. A bed took up most of the room, the foot of the bed separated from the fireplace by maybe three feet. A nightstand stood just outside the arc of the bedroom door. On the far side of the bed, a bookshelf filled the corner almost to the ceiling. It held marching rows of tomes in an array of faded hues. To the left of the door, a mirror topped dresser ran along the wall almost to that corner. Beyond the dresser was a door that Vivian supposed went to a closet.
Deckard sat facing the fire in a chair he’d situated between the fire and the bedroom window. The curtains had been drawn back to let in the light. He’d draped a blanket over his legs and had an open book in his lap. He looked smaller there, silhouetted by the sunlight. Tired. Fragile.
Deckard smiled and pulled the reading glasses from his face. “Ms. Hale. Have you spoken to Hayden?”
“I did. He’s downstairs now, cleaning up. He had to go to work.” Vivian took two steps into the room and leaned against the dresser.
Deckard shook his head. “Fool boy should be here, safe for the time being. What did he say?”
Vivian tried to read his face, but the dim glow of the fire dug the worry lines around his eyes deeper. “He says he wants to train me. To help me with my abilities.”
“I see.” Deckard placed a fraying cloth bookmark on the pages of his book and closed it. “Why are you here, then?”
“Because Hayden also told me you only brought him on as an apprentice in case you needed to kill him. Is that true?”
Deckard fixed her with a rock hard gaze, and Vivian felt a tremor of fear. The look in his eyes softened slowly into something warmer.
“Ms. Hale. If by my actions or words, I have given you reason to doubt my integrity, I apologize. But I cannot argue myself into your trust. I can only tell you the truth and let you make your own judgement.
“If Hayden had turned out to be unstable or dangerous, I would have done what was necessary to protect this city and its innocents from him. I am grateful beyond telling he did not.”
Vivian watched the fire pop and dance. She tried to keep the fear from her voice. “Could that happen to me?”
“In your own way, yes, Ms. Hale. You possess abilities that grant you power, and all power is dangerous if not properly channeled. The danger for you is that, if left unchecked, your talent could untether you from reality or drive you to despair. Confusion and desperation coupled to strength is a terrifying thing.”
“How do I stop it?”
“I thought Hayden was beginning your training.”
“He is. I just thought, why waste time?” She looked up from the flames and bit her lip as Deckard sat serenely in his seat. He stroked his goatee and considered her.
“At least give me the basics. Enough that I don’t...that I can keep…” Tears choked her, making her voice shrill, and she rubbed angrily at her eyes. “I’ve nearly died twice in the last week. I’ve lost my car, my apartment, probably my job. I can’t leave this house without feeling afraid. I’ve got no control over my own life.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It would just be nice to know I didn’t have to worry about blinding headaches and going insane. That’s all I’m asking for. Please.”
Vivian recognized the lie the moment she said it. She didn’t want the visions gone. She wanted to use
them again, to stand on that mountainside and survey the future. She wanted to feel that sense of freedom, of control, of purpose.
Silence filled the little room for several seconds. Vivian shifted nervously. She’d overstepped. Maybe Deckard had seen something on her face and noticed the lie. She looked at the floor.
“Knowledge. Strength. Will.” Vivian looked up as Deckard’s voice rumbled out. He had leaned forward and steepled his hands.
“These are the legs of effective action. Without all three, nothing can stand.
“Knowledge without strength is frustration. Knowledge without will is lassitude. Strength without will is unburned powder; it moves nothing. Strength without knowledge is simple destruction. Will without knowledge is foolishness. Will without strength is despair.
“Your gifts tend toward knowledge already. What you must develop is strength and the will to use both knowledge and strength in the service of others. Are you prepared to do that, Ms. Hale?”
Vivian swallowed. “I think so.”
“Very well.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Hayden rubbed at his dry eyes. He hadn’t been back to Deckard’s house in four days, all of which had blurred by. Between missing two days trying to keep Vivian safe and the actual vote right around the corner, he’d been pulling thirteen and fourteen-hour shifts, mostly at the office.
Wolfe had covered with Bernie, telling him Hayden’s mother had been sick, but even with that the accountant had been more sharp than necessary. Apparently, the big man had taken Hayden’s flakiness as a personal betrayal. Needless to say, Hayden hadn’t received any more donut trays. He had received emails requesting additional work, timed to arrive suspiciously close to the end of the day.
Wolfe himself practically lived at the office, taking phone calls, giving interviews, and organizing staff in between public appearances. He made it all look easy, like he was born to it. Hayden didn’t know where he was getting all the energy.
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