Watchers of the Night

by Matthew Keith

Chapter 19

  That evening, after Paul spent a couple of hours working on honing his ability, Allen led him outside to the helipad. One of the Griffon helicopters was there waiting, the rotors already spinning. They climbed inside to find the cabin empty. As far as Paul could tell, the only other person on board was the pilot.

  “This is for us?” Paul asked.

  “Yup,” replied Allen. “It’s pretty much standard for any mission that doesn’t require an overnighter. Bird leaves nine p.m. sharp. Be on it or miss your ride.”

  “This is an actual mission?” Paul asked nervously.

  “Nah, this is just training. But why change anything, right?”

  “So has anyone ever been late and missed their ride?” Paul asked jokingly.

  Looking seriously at Paul, Allen replied, “Never.”

  The craft shook slightly. Paul looked over to see Steven and Jake pull the steps from the doorway. It was then that Paul realized there was a doorway, but no door. He hastily sank down in a seat and gripped the armrests.

  Jake called out, “Good to go!” and slapped the side of the helicopter twice. The engine immediately revved and they lifted off.

  “So…” Paul began, yelling over the noise of the chopper.

  Allen looked at him, a blank expression on his face.

  Obviously, this was going to be a fun ride.

  “Where we goin’?” Paul asked. “And, um, I noticed there’s no door?”

  “Yeah, door’s gotta be open or we can’t get out,” Allen replied, as if Paul had asked a completely obvious question, but then looked at Paul as a thought occurred to him. “But then, I guess with you on the job we could’ve opened it ourselves.”

  “Maybe,” Paul replied, wondering more about their destination than if he could open a door. Allen still hadn’t offered him a clue. “I’m still not totally in control,” he yelled. “Now that I know I can do it, the hard part is making sure it’s turned off when I don’t need it and turned on when I do. I can bump or hit stuff every time I try, but for stuff that involves actually moving something, like turning a door handle for instance, that seems to be a little more complicated. It’s like I have to keep a focus the entire time I’m turning it as opposed to only focusing for a second for something like hitting something or knocking on something.”

  Allen’s only reply was a short, “Hm.” Paul should have expected it.

  They sat in silence for a few long minutes. Paul looked at Allen every few seconds to see if maybe he had any interest in a conversation, but Allen just stared into space, his body rocking with the movement of the helicopter’s flight. After about ten minutes of nothing, Paul couldn’t take it and tried again.

  “So we’re going somewhere to work on mapping and mazes? I took a good long look at that maze you drew me. I even showed it to Parker and Kenneth. They both seemed like they knew what it was, but they didn’t tell me.”

  Allen smiled a little. “They should know it. They trained with it too.”

  Paul nodded in a way that would have encouraged just about anyone else to continue with their story, but Allen just went back to doing nothing. Frustrated, Paul took a breath to ask again where they were going, but before he could, Allen seemed to come to some sort of decision and interrupted before Paul could begin.

  “So Paul,” Allen faced Paul directly, looking him in the eye. “You think we’re getting screwed?”

  Surprised by the question and not knowing for sure what he meant, Paul squinted and shook his head to show he didn’t comprehend.

  Allen thought for a second and then put it another way. “You think we should be rich for what we do?”

  Paul realized that Allen was speaking from the same perspective that James had spoken. The underlying theme seemed to be ‘Astralis is not giving us our due,’ which was exactly what Dr. Abrams said was being talked about by some of the Walkers. Now Paul could be fairly sure that both James and Allen were part of that group.

  Paul answered carefully, speaking slowly. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve only been here a little over a week now. Do you?”

  Allen sighed through his nose. “I’m starting to think so. Let’s face it; what we do is kind of a one-of-a-kind thing. Seems like there’d be a big price tag on it.”

  “Well, we’re definitely unique,” Paul agreed. He didn’t want to let anyone know he’d already had a conversation with Dr. Abrams about it. It was almost certain that Allen knew that James had spoken to Paul, but Paul kept his tone light. He didn’t want to give the appearance that he already understood the bigger agenda being pushed on him. Allen was still looking ahead into space as he spoke, but it was clear from the way he looked sideways at Paul in quick glances that Paul’s answer was very important to him. “I don’t know, Allen,” Paul said carefully. “You know, James said something similar to me just the other night.”

  Allen didn’t react at all, which confirmed to Paul that he was right about Allen and James being part of the group Dr. Abrams had described. For all Paul knew, they might be the group.

  “I guess that’s not a surprise,” Allen said finally. “There’s more than just me that thinks we shouldn’t live like monks.”

  “Really? I guess so far I’ve just been kind of blown away by everything that’s happened,” Paul said. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier or felt more like I’m a part of something in my life. I really like it here.”

  Finally looking at Paul, Allen said, “I like it here, too. But you know how many times I went out to do something for myself, away from Astralis, in the past year?” Paul shook his head in reply. “None, that’s how many. And you want to know why? It isn’t because anyone says I can’t, it’s because I have to ask in order to do it.”

  Paul looked at Allen quizzically. “I was told we can leave here any time we want for any reason we want.”

  Allen snorted. “That’s what they say, sure. But for a guy like me that grew up in New Mexico, that’s where all my family is. What am I gonna do, try and drive there? There ain’t enough daylight for me to do that without making myself a target. If I want to do anything that ain’t within five hours of here I have to ask like a damn kid if I can have the helicopter take me or ask if I can get booked on a plane ride.”

  Paul remained silent, unsure how to respond.

  “For what I can do,” Allen continued, “I should have my own damn plane with my own damn pilot waiting to take me anywhere I want, any time I want. I mean, we should at least get paychecks, but we don’t even get that.”

  Trying to find a neutral reply, Paul asked, “Has anyone tried talking to Dr. Abrams about it?”

  Allen snorted again. “His majesty? Sure. Dittrich tried a bunch of times, but Abrams always tells him he can’t make changes to our setup without U.N. approval.”

  “Seems like a legitimate answer,” Paul replied.

  “It’s a bunch of crap is what it is. Dittrich even says so. We don’t need the U.N. and Abrams knows it. We can do what we do without them, and make a lot more money. If we started selling what we do to corporations, can you imagine that? We’d all be richer than Bill Gates.”

  Paul was saved from making any sort of answer by the deceleration of the helicopter and a drop in altitude.

  “Looks like we’re here,” Allen said, standing up and looking down through the open door. He looked over at Paul, who still had a white-knuckled grip on his armrests, and motioned him over to the door. “Come on, man, don’t want to miss the jump.”

  Standing on shaky legs, using the cabin wall to keep steady, Paul inched his way to the door.

  “Don’t like heights, huh?” Allen laughed at him, having to shout over the sound of the helicopter blades and the wind. “That’s kind of funny, considering!”

  Paul looked down at a full-sized, real life version of the maze that was on the page Allen had given him earlier that afternoon. A hedge maze. The helicopter was about a hundred feet above the center, slowing its descent to the point that it was just hov
ering.

  “Where are we?” Paul shouted back, amazed that they’d traveled for only about an hour and reached something like this. “Is this owned by Astralis?”

  “No, but we’re still in Virginia! We’re in Williamsburg!” Pointing to a three-story brick building with two tall chimneys and widow’s walk, Allen explained, “That’s the Governor’s Palace from back in colonial days! The hedge maze is part of that. Ready?”

  “Ready for what!”

  “We gotta jump, man! Pilot’s gonna leave any second!”

  Paul knew he’d be safe. He’d already jumped (well, been pushed - but whatever) from the ledge on the night of the Glory Run from an even greater height, but between his fear of heights and the fact that everything in his head was telling him not to jump, he still had a hard time accepting it would be fine.

  Grinning evilly at Paul, Allen shouted, “Don’t be a wuss! Tell you what! We’ll go on three!”

  Paul just nodded, his face clearly showing how terrified he felt.

  “One!” Allen yelled. “Two!” And once again Paul fell for it, quite literally. Before he had a chance to recognize what was happening, Allen had grabbed Paul around the waist and leapt from the doorway, hauling Paul with him.

  The jump—or more accurately labeled: fall—was over before Paul really had a chance to be frightened of the consequences. It hurt just as badly as the last time, but because he knew that the pain would soon subside, it didn’t seem as bad. Within less than a minute, he and Allen had sorted themselves out and stood together in the center of the maze.

  “So here we are,” Allen announced, as if they hadn’t just finished a bone-breaking jump. “Nothing fancy about this. It’s a maze and we’re going to see who can make it out first. As you saw in the drawing, there’s only one entrance and it’s also the exit.”

  Paul nodded, conjuring in his mind the memory of the drawing. Although he could remember the general shape of the thing and he knew the exit to the maze was in the same direction as the exit out of the center, he had a hard time remembering anything more specific. Cursing himself silently for not taking the drawing and Allen a little more seriously, he realized he probably should have memorized a series of turns for each intersection.

  Sure enough, Allen said, “Normally we’re supposed to give trainees a head start of ten minutes since the rest of us have already been through it at least once, but since you’re some sort of boy memory genius, you and me are going to leave at the same time. I’m sure you memorized all the turns anyway. If you did that, you’re gonna beat me, cause I always end up making at least a few wrong turns.”

  Looking around the center area of the maze at the eight-foot tall surrounding hedges, Paul said, “I see what you meant in training about it being so much different. When you’re actually standing in the middle of something like this instead of looking at it on a screen or sheet of paper, it’s hard to visualize.”

  “Yup,” Allen said with his usual lack of editorial. “Ready?”

  At Paul’s nod, Allen gave him a cross between a grin and a sneer and then turned and ran without another word.