by R S Penney
“ 'Liked' being the operative word.” His first instinct would be to say that there was nothing wrong with wanting to take it slow – after all, it's not like he would ever fault a woman for saying as much – but he couldn't think of anything else that he had done to get on her bad side.
“What does Lauren say?”
Jack stood up.
He strode across the room with his head down, careful to avoid touching anything with his hands. “I haven't talked to her,” he admitted. “The last thing I need is a lecture on dating etiquette.”
At the waist-high wall that bordered his kitchen, he paused for a moment to study the picture of his sister that he had hung on the fridge door. It was a shot of the two of them with their heads together against the backdrop of a line of trees, taken last summer when he had joined Lauren and Steve for a picnic.
Even then, his sister had been trying to play matchmaker. There were days when Jack wished she would just give up on that notion; some people just didn't make good romantic partners.
“Hey, you walked out of frame.”
The sound of Anna's voice made him jump. Conversing with someone via hologram was always a disorienting experience for him. Had Anna been there in person, his spatial awareness would have detected her, but so far as Summer could tell, he was alone. Because he was alone. There was nothing on his couch except sculpted light.
When he turned, Anna was still sitting prim and proper with hands folded in her lap, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I don't think you did anything wrong,” she said. “You're not obligated to have sex with someone.”
“True.”
“So why are you so hard on yourself?”
Jack shut his eyes tight, trembling as a shiver went through him. “It's hard to explain,” he answered. “Everyone's always trying to pair me off.”
“And do you want to be paired off?”
“Yes and no.”
Anna's ghostly form sat back against the couch cushions, pinching her chin in one hand. “Jack, I really want you to stop thinking of this as your fault. You do not have to jump into a relationship just to please other people.”
He sank into the chair across from her, touching the armrests without thinking. The sudden sting made him hiss in pain. “I know…” he said. “Marie and I just want different things. She's into casual sex, and there's nothing wrong with that.”
“And there's nothing wrong with not being into that.”
“Besides,” he said, hunching over and trying to ignore the pain in his palms. Thank God above for Summer's ability to speed up the healing process. “I really don't think that Marie stopped returning my calls just because I didn't want to have sex.”
“Oh no?”
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure she just sobered up.”
Anna bent over to pick up something from her own coffee table and then promptly threw it at him. The object vanished as soon as it left her hand, disappearing so quickly he couldn't even identify it. “Damn it! See what you made me do?”
Jack let out a burst of wheezing laughter, a sensation so glorious it almost made him forget the pain. “Ah, the joys of being lightyears away,” he teased. “Now I can say whatever I want without fear of being kicked.”
“It just means there'll be more kicking the next time I visit,” she insisted. “I'll create a log book, and we'll have session.”
“Make all the threats you want, An,” he teased. “But we both know that I can see right through you.”
“Ha ha.”
He went silent for a moment, reviewing his date with Marie. It was clear to him that they both wanted different things. True, she was witty, beautiful and very intelligent, but even accounting for all those things, there was no way they would make a good couple. Summer, it seemed, was in total agreement; he could sense the Nassai's approval. Jack wanted something serious, and Marie wanted a fling. That was all there was to it. “So… what about you?” he inquired. “Yesterday, you were telling me all about some junior diplomat who took you out.”
With a gaping mouth, Anna rolled her eyes. “Companion have mercy,” she said, shaking her head. “So I agreed to go to dinner with him, and I was expecting something simple. Casual conversation, right?”
“Right.”
Anna slapped a hand over her face, brushing strands of hair away from her cheek. Her soft sigh told him all he needed to know about the rest of the date. “Instead, he picks this really fancy restaurant, and he spends the whole night talking about wine.”
“Uh oh.”
“For like three hours!” she exclaimed. “The difference between whites and reds, the history of various vineyards, optimal growing conditions on different planets. He goes on and on. And I would humour him! I really would! Some people get really engrossed in their hobbies, and I think that's great.
“But the whole time, there's this sense that he's telling me this because he expects me to be impressed with his fine taste. Like he's doing this just so that I'll think he's some kind of connoisseur.”
“So you went all Shania on his ass.”
“Yes,” she replied. “Wait, what?”
Jack looked up at the ceiling. He felt deep furrows lining his brow. “Oh, nothing important,” he muttered. “Suffice it to say that you weren't very impressed with this man.”
Anna checked the display on her multi-tool, then scowled in displeasure. “Sorry, Bro, but I've got to get going,” she said. “I lost track of time, but if I hurry, I can have a quick breakfast before work.”
“What time is it there?”
“About an hour after sunrise.”
That revelation brought a mix of irritation and guilt. “You mean you've been getting up early just to talk to me?” he exclaimed. “Anna, I appreciate the thought, but you don't have to do that.”
She smiled and shook her head as if he'd just said something preposterous. “I'll see you tomorrow,” she insisted before killing the transmission. The hologram flickered and faded away.
Well, there was no point in talking her out of it; when Anna decided that something needed doing, it got done. No ifs, ands or buts. He felt a little guilty, but if his best friend wanted to keep him company, he wasn't about to complain.
His multi-tool began to buzz.
“Receive Call,” he grumbled.
Jack checked the small rectangular screen that was still strapped to his gauntlet and watched a familiar face appear. The reporter from the Star – Selena Knowles – blinked a few times before sitting back so that her nose wasn't pressed right to the camera. “Agent Hunter,” she said. “I heard you've had an interesting few days.”
“You could say that.”
“Maybe you'd like to tell me about it?” she suggested. “Meet me at Confederation Park in one hour?”
“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
A nearly unbroken ring of trees surrounded a round fountain with paths leading off in multiple directions. With the onset of autumn, many parents still brought their young children to play and get some fresh air.
Jack sat on a bench in gray cargo pants and a blue polo shirt under a brown jacket, careful to keep his hands from touching anything. A light breezed ruffled his hair, causing his messy bangs to flutter.
He frowned, looking down at himself. She's fifteen minutes late, he thought, his eyebrows rising. I wonder if this might be punishment for all the times I didn't even open her e-mails.
It would be fitting punishment, he had to admit – Jack was not the kind of guy who did a very good job of keeping track of the little things – but nevertheless, it was getting cool, and if she didn't show up soon, he was leaving.
“Agent Hunter?”
He looked up to find her standing by the fountain in green skinny jeans and a black jacket that she kept zipped up. Her long blonde hair was left to hang loose in waves that fell to the small of her back. “Thank you for coming,” she said, approaching him. “I was hoping to get your thoughts on the motel bombing.”
Pressing hi
s lips into a tight frown, Jack narrowed his eyes. “It seems pretty straight forward,” he said, shaking his head. “We made an attempt to bring in the terrorist, but he was ready for us.”
Selena stood before him with hands in her coat pockets, her eyes closed as she tried to maintain her composure. “Yes,” she said, nodding once. “I'm quite aware of that, but what concerns me is this man's talent for out-maneuvering the Keepers.”
“That concerns all of us.”
She sat down beside him with hands folded in her lap, glancing over her shoulder with a small smile. “Then maybe you could give us some insight,” she said. “Something that could put people's minds at ease.”
He allowed her a few moments to set up her voice recorder and mentally prepared himself for the barrage of questions he expected to follow. Keeping his irritation in check would be a challenge; he wasn't really irritated with her – people deserved to know the truth even if it didn't paint him and his colleagues in a good light – but being forced to recall the smack-down Leo had given him wasn't exactly good for his sense of self worth. He'd spent the last few days trying to keep his mind off it.
The truth was the truth, however, and he was willing to own up to his mistakes. It occurred to him that Slade would shit a brick if he realized that one of his Keepers was about to give an interview without having his answers vetted.
Good.
“Let's begin with the basics,” Selena suggested. “Give me the details of the plan you tried to execute.”
He did so, taking her step by step through their attempt to entrap Leo with a sample of Amps. Thankfully, that sample had been destroyed in the explosion, but now they had nothing to show for their efforts. The doctors had put Jack on medical leave, but he was sure Jena would be in a frenzy trying to come up with a new plan.
“Forgive me,” Selena said when he was finished. “But it sounds to me like this man has been one step ahead of you the whole time.”
“Yes.”
“How can that be?”
So they came to it. Jack had been expecting a question like this since the moment he walked out his front door. The whole bus ride over here, he'd been pondering how he wanted to answer it.
Jack stood up.
He strode halfway to the fountain with his head down, keeping his back turned. “I made it a point to read some of your work,” he replied. “You're a tough reporter who asks the hard questions; so I'm betting you already know the answer.”
Biting his lip, Jack turned his face up to the cloudy sky. “I can think of only one answer,” he said, nodding slowly. “Leo has always been one step ahead of us because someone on the inside is feeding him information.”
He turned.
Selena sat on the bench with her hands on her knees, watching him with a gaping mouth. “You can't be serious,” she said, blinking. “You think one of the Justice Keepers is a traitor?”
Clenching his teeth, Jack lowered his eyes to avoid looking at her. “I'm as serious as a bullet to the chest,” he growled. “And I want you to write it down because scrutiny will make it harder for this person to undermine our work.”
“You're…”
“Yes?”
Covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers, Selena closed her eyes. “I was not expecting you to be so forthright.” She got to her feet with a sigh, then slowly made her way over to him. “So, you want me to put that in the paper?”
“Yes.”
“Even though it might exacerbate the tensions between Earth and Leyria?”
“It doesn't matter,” he said. “Your job is to tell the truth; my job is to protect the people's right to hear the truth. Democracy is founded on the principle that the common people are wise enough to make their own decisions. We'll just have to trust our fellow Canadians to do the right thing.”
He could already hear the lecture that Jena would offer when she read the article. This wasn't exactly what she would call “playing the game,” but he didn't care. Jack didn't play politics. It was not a skill that he would ever master.
Selena turned away from him, making her way back to the bench. “It's not often that somebody surprises me, Agent Hunter,” she said, gathering her things. “I must admit, I had something of a low opinion of you.”
“Well, I'm glad I could change your mind.”
She spun around, blonde hair swaying as she fixed her gaze on him. “So… I can count on you as a source the next time I have questions?”
“Sure,” he said. “I figure someone has to do it.”
Chapter 23
The open suitcase on the bed contained folded clothes, tiny bottles of shampoo and makeup, and several other items. As he watched his daughter pack, Harry felt a growing sense of apprehension.
Missy hunched over the bed, turned so that he saw her in profile. “I can't believe you're making me do this,” she said, throwing a glare in his direction. “You of all people should know better than to give in to Mom.”
Harry frowned, then looked up to lock eyes with his daughter. “I'm not sure what you want from me,” he said, shaking his head. “Your mother's right. This city isn't safe for you right now.”
Missy stared into her suitcase as though she thought her scowl might set the clothes on fire. “Sure. Whatever you say, Dad.” She whirled around and stalked out of the room, marching down the narrow hallway that led to the stairs.
As he turned to watch her go, Harry found Della standing in that hallway. His ex-wife wore a pair of designer jeans and one of those frilly hippie shirts, her golden hair done up in a ponytail.
It would have been nice if she had said something to put an end to their daughter's sulking, but – as always – the job of discipline fell squarely on his shoulders. Sometimes he thought Della only wanted the kids when it was easy. Claire had said something about her mother discussing report cards and grounding her when she had a D. He'd insisted on seeing that report card himself, of course. At least Della was trying. “What do you think that was about?” he asked.
Della stood in the hallway with arms crossed, tossing her head back to roll her eyes at the ceiling. “That little tantrum?” she said. “Come on, Harry, put two and two together. She's upset because she won't get to see Aaron.”
“Who the hell's Aaron?”
His ex gave him a look that called him an idiot. “Her boyfriend,” she said in tones that implied the answer should have been obvious. “Jesus… When exactly did you stop paying attention?”
Harry sat down on the edge of the bed.
Hunching over, he planted his nose in the palm of his hand. “My daughter's got a boyfriend,” he whispered in a breathy rasp. “How the hell do you know about this when I don't know about this?”
“She told me.”
Harry turned his face up to the ceiling, blinking. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said, getting to his feet. “Melissa, get up here and finish packing! Your grandfather is expecting you!”
Della shook her head in exasperation. “You're not gonna do the protective father thing, are you?” she asked, stepping into the room. “She's old enough to date if she wants to.”
“I agree that she's old enough to date,” he said. “And I would have no problem with it if she actually talked to me.”
Christ, when exactly had his daughter stopped trusting him? They had had some problems a few years back when she learned of the existence of the Leyrians – Missy had not been pleased to learn that he had been lying to her – but that was all over and done. If she was hiding the details of her personal life…
“Dad!” Claire squealed from the kitchen. “Come down here!”
What now?
He started down the narrow hallway with Della at his back, her presence sending a shiver down his spine. Harry was no Keeper – he couldn't see what was going on behind him – but when you lived with a woman who brought to mind images of the three-headed hydra, you learned to sense when she was near.
At the end of the hallway, stairs led down to the di
ning room a where a wooden table was covered with stuffed animals that Claire had been unable to cram into her suitcase. It was going to be quite the cleanup.
He turned a corner into the kitchen where his youngest daughter sat at the table in denim overalls and a pink shirt. Her dark hair was done up in a ponytail. “Dad,” she said. “This thing says someone's calling you.”
She lifted the tablet that she had been reading.
The screen displayed Jena's picture with the words incoming call blinking in large red letters. He took the device and swiped his finger across its surface to answer. He just prayed she wasn't going to ask him on another date. Now was not the time.
The screen lit up with a close-up of Jena. She was sitting in the chair in her office with her back to the window. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look like a rabbit that's been running from the hounds.”
Harry felt his mouth tighten. “The girls are leaving for Alberta today,” he replied in soft tones. He could all but see his ex-wife scowling. “We're trying to get them ready, and it's a bit of an ordeal.”
“Oh, well then I won't keep you, but I have news.”
“What's that?”
Jena smiled, bowing her head so that he could only see a mop of short auburn hair. “I had a little chat with the other directors,” she said. “So far, you've done a remarkable job of building bridges between my people and local law enforcement, and we'd like to make the position official.”
“You mean I'd work for you full time?”
“It's a great opportunity for you, Harry,” she said. “You've been playing the role of ambassador ever since Lenai got stuck here three years ago. The only difference is now you'll be paid for it.”
He'd have to think about that. If he was honest with himself, Harry had to admit that he had been feeling a little burnt out lately. A change of scenery might do him some good, and this job wouldn't be nearly as dangerous. “Let me get back to you,” he said. “I can call you tonight.”
She nodded and the call window vanished, and was replaced with a home screen full of colourful icons. Passing the tablet back to Claire, he tried to ignore his daughter's curious expression.
