Not good. I wait for Cathwell’s reply, knowing she’ll defuse the situation—she has to—but she merely stares at Johann. And then she wanders away to examine the room.
I nearly have to restrain Johann from going after her. “She just got out of isolation in prison,” I say. The words come out calmly, but internally, my heart is racing. This isn’t how our first meeting with the whole team was supposed to begin. “She’s still adjusting.”
For a heartbeat, I think Johann is going to argue with me—but he slumps back into his chair with crossed arms. Mendel never so much as looked up.
Cathwell drifts around the room. She trails her fingertips along the maps. Cocks her head in directions where no sound is coming from, as though attempting to hear the silence better. Stops and starts walking at random.
I’d heard the rumors that she’s always been an eccentric, distracted sort of person. I’d hoped the gossip was worse than actuality, but it seems every bit as true as I’d worried. Well, so long as she can do her job properly, I suppose—and according to those same rumors, she was an excellent soldier.
She appears better than the other day, at least. Possibly because she isn’t in a prisoner’s uniform now. Possibly because her presence on my grid is a less dull color today, more full and bright than when I first met her. She’s amused by something. Her long hair still appears as though it hasn’t seen a brush in days. Every once in a while, her eyes will become unfocused, as though her attention is elsewhere.
She, too, isn’t in military uniform. I’ll need to remind them later that soldiers are supposed to be in proper dress when called to a briefing. I hope General Austin isn’t disappointed. I should have talked to my new teammates ahead of time after all.
General Austin, equipped with a pile of folders, is the last to join us, but I expected that from him. He’s perpetually the last to everything.
It’s strange to see him without his copper-skinned, dark-haired assistant, Noah. One of the oldest Nytes alive at the age of twenty, the High Council occasionally sends him to other sectors on secret missions. As is the case now. I’m not certain what his gift is, merely that he’s been with Austin since long before I entered the military and that seeing one without the other is an odd rarity.
Austin’s presence is a calm, neutral cream. When Cathwell meets his eyes, he smiles, and she ducks her head before taking the chair next to Mendel.
“Thank you all for coming,” the general says. He stands behind the chair at the end of the table. His hands rest on the back of it. “The rebels have been getting bolder in their attacks lately, particularly with the recent civilian raiding incident. The Council wants us to eliminate the threat they pose as quickly and efficiently as possible. That is why you are all here.”
I don’t know how efficiently you can take out a threat when you don’t even know where its base is. Due to the fact only Nytes can move freely Outside without protective equipment, our intel on the rebels, particularly their location, is virtually nonexistent. Our technology hasn’t been able to pick up anything, either, leaving us at a standstill.
“For the time being, this will be the only all-Nytes team,” Austin says. “Think of it as a trial. You four will make up the force of Team One.”
Cathwell has started scratching at a hole in the table. Scritch scritch scritch.
“So what exactly do we do?” Mendel asks tonelessly. It isn’t from being tired—he sounds almost bored. No, not bored, more like this is all just one big hassle.
I frown. Why does he think we’re here? If he doesn’t care, why is he at this meeting?
“You will fight, just like you’ve always fought,” Austin says. He taps the pile of folders he brought with him. “I’ve outlined the details of your first mission here. You are to leave two days from now.” Our eyes meet. “As the highest ranked, Major Kitahara will be in charge. Lieutenant Cathwell will be second-in-command.”
At that, Johann shoots out of his chair so fast it nearly hits me as it clatters to the floor. His presence glares scarlet on my grid, his anger so hot it nearly burns. Even Mendel looks unsettled by the general’s statement.
“Sir, you cannot give her a position of command right now,” Johann says. His hands are clenched into fists atop the table. “She was only just released from prison. How are we even supposed to trust her?”
Cathwell looks up at Johann, but down once more when the sergeant major glares at her. She resumes scratching the table. Scritch scritch scritch.
“She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself and her teammates,” Austin says evenly. “If I skipped over the next-highest-ranked officer on the team, wouldn’t that undermine both her rank and her confidence?”
My gaze switches between Johann and Austin, who are having a staring match of sorts. Only, in contrast to Johann’s vibrant anger, Austin’s presence is unchanged in its calm.
I understand where Johann is coming from. He’s served more time than all of us, is more experienced than any of us. However, when he came here from Sector Eleven’s military to join Sector Eight’s two years ago, he essentially had to start over with climbing his way through the ranks. He also likely faced a lot of antagonism at the time from having come from an opposing sector’s military. And while his primary strengths appear to lie in battle, his records indicate he’s not bad at strategizing, either. Meanwhile, Cathwell has been out of the military and out of practice for the last two and a half years. As a prisoner, no less. Johann’s fury is more than reasonable.
But eventually, Johann picks up his chair and sits back down without a word. His jaw is tight, brown eyes trained on the table.
Mendel glances at his watch, discreetly enough that I would’ve missed it if not for the fact that I was looking in his direction to see how Cathwell would react. What could he possibly have to do that is more important than this?
“Kitahara, are you all right with this?” Austin asks.
I blink. “With what?”
“Taking charge with Cathwell as your right hand.”
Oh. “That will be fine.” I can’t believe I was spacing out. Did Austin notice? I need to stay focused instead of worrying about what everyone else is doing.
Austin finally takes a seat. The chair legs grate across the tiles, scraping against my eardrums. It feels like a private reprimand for not paying close enough attention. “We recently discovered one of the rebels’ hideouts. It’s a small base, but it needs to be taken out all the same. We’re leaving it to you.”
Mendel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Just the four of us?”
“As I said, it’s small,” Austin says. “It looks like a storage point for some of the weapons and ammunition they’ve stolen from us. From what our scouts have reported, there are never more than ten people standing guard. You’re all experienced soldiers with strong gifts. You should be fine.”
Ten rebels. Four of us. Not exactly favorable odds, especially considering the opponents are other Nytes. We’ll have the advantage of surprise, but in a way, so will they. Their unknown gifts will be difficult to deal with.
“And we’re not allowed to take anyone else with us?” I ask.
“No. Consider this a test, in order to see how you handle yourselves.”
“So if we all die, we’ve failed?” Mendel asks. Silence follows his words. He asked the question lightly, but the reality of our situation hangs heavy in the still air.
“Well, better make sure you pass, then,” Austin says just as lightly. I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been carefree in less-than- favorable situations.
He slides a folder to each of us. “Let’s not get to that point. The Council tried very hard to come up with this solution, and there aren’t enough Nytes with strong gifts in the military to create another team this well-suited to battle.”
Cathwell meets my eyes and I swear she’s thinking the same thing I am: The Council doesn’t appear to have tried all that hard.
She looks away. Scritch scritch scritch.
“Questions?” Austin asks. No one looks at him. “No? Nothing? Then prepare your equipment, read the files I’ve put together for you, and rest well. You won’t be placed on any regular-duty shifts before you head out. It wouldn’t be such a bad idea for you to try to get to know each other and train together, either.”
Get to know each other? Any of us could be dead in two days’ time with this mission. How can we try to become closer with that knowledge hanging over our heads?
We all stand and salute as Austin departs. He leaves an awkward quiet in his wake.
When an extended amount of time has passed and no one has said anything, I realize I’m supposed to take charge here. I exhale slowly. Okay. What can I do to make everyone feel more comfortable? What does everyone need so we can succeed?
“I know this seems like a difficult task, but we can do it,” I say. “We just need to work together and create a proper strategy. Why don’t we start with everyone talking about their strengths? Whatever you think we should know about your abilities is fine.”
I already know everyone’s basic information from their files. Gifts, fighting styles, history with the military. Well, mostly. Cathwell’s gift isn’t in her files, and Mendel hasn’t been here long enough to have much in his files. But it’d be better for all of us to share these things as a team.
No one says anything. I raise my eyebrows, and when silence continues to reign, I say, “My gift is sensing others’ presences, emotions, and whether or not they’re lying. I specialize in knives. I prefer long-distance combat, but I can hold my own in a one-on-one.”
For a heartbeat, I think still no one will answer and I’m going to have to make plans with soldiers who won’t even speak to me.
Then Mendel says, “Telekinetic. I’m best with a sword. I can fight in close-range or long-distance combat given my specialty and gift.” He looks at me out of the corners of his eyes. “I prefer long-distance.”
Johann snorts. “I’m a pyrokinetic, close-range fighter. I prefer to take on my enemies face-to-face.”
“There’s nothing wrong with fighting in the most efficient way possible,” I say. “At the end of the day, it’s the results that matter.”
“That’s a coward’s reasoning.”
I’m about to explain why it’s perfectly fair reasoning when Mendel says, “What about you, Cathwell?” and once again breaks the uneasy atmosphere. Despite his bored attitude during the meeting, he appears to be a good peacekeeper.
We all look to the lieutenant, who pauses in the midst of her hole-making. She’s doubled its original size.
“Lieutenant Cathwell, do you mind telling us about your abilities?” I ask. When she doesn’t reply, I add, “We need to know where your skills lie for this mission. Anything you feel comfortable telling us will do.”
“Don’t go easy on her like that,” Johann says. He shoves his chair under the table with a clap as loud as if he’d slammed a door. “If she can’t act like an officer, she shouldn’t be here. She’s barely out of prison, she hasn’t fought in years, and she’s not exactly trying to cooperate with us. I say we leave her behind. She’ll only put us all in danger the way she is now.”
“I understand your concerns—I truly do—but the general specifically asked her to come back for this team. He wouldn’t have gone out of his way to do so if he’d thought she wasn’t up to the task.” I look to Mendel for support, but he only shrugs. So much for the peacekeeper.
“Close range is good,” Cathwell says.
It’s then that I notice the nail on her forefinger is bleeding, the one she was using to scrape away at the table. I resist the urge to sigh.
“When was the last time you fought?” I ask. “Do you think you could hold your own in a battle?” The implications of her being stuck in prison for two and a half years without any training are suddenly very hard to ignore. Her fighting ability has likely fallen significantly.
She shrugs.
This is going to be harder than I anticipated.
“Why don’t you two go back?” I say, addressing Mendel and Johann. Perhaps Cathwell would feel less on edge if it was a one-on-one conversation. Johann openly voicing his doubts about her abilities, justified as they might be, likely isn’t helping. “Let’s reconvene tomorrow to train and talk about strategies. Read the files before then. For now, I’ll talk with Cathwell.”
Johann opens his mouth, but before he can speak, Mendel says, “Whatever you say, Leader. There’s not much else to do here anyway.” He directs this last part to Johann, who glares at him before leaving the room without another word.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Anytime,” Mendel says with a grin. He tips an invisible hat to me and follows Johann out.
I hold back a sigh. Johann’s mistrust of Cathwell is going to be problematic in terms of us all working together as a team, but it’s Mendel I’m truly concerned about. He stepped in occasionally at the end, but he appeared unconcerned the entire meeting. He can’t just be a neutral party when he feels like it and apathetic the rest of the time. But for now, I need to take care of Cathwell.
“I’ll walk you back to your room,” I say. “We can talk on the way.”
She nods and we head out to the hallway. Our boots click on the tiles. A few soldiers stare at us, but say nothing.
Should I attempt asking about her fighting abilities once more? Or perhaps begin with her gift?
No. There’s something else I need to say first.
“I’m sorry about the other day.” I force myself not to drop my eyes from her as I say it. “I didn’t think about your position or the things you’ve gone through at all. I was insensitive and thoughtless. I’m sorry.”
She looks up, clearly surprised. “You’re still thinking about that?” She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. In fact, forget it. It’s fine.”
I blink. Was I the only one concerned about that awful conversation?
Now I shake my head. If she’d rather I forget about it, then I won’t mention it again. I certainly don’t mind it being forgotten. “Well, we’re going to be working together from now on to lead this team. I want to start on the right foot.”
“No worries there.” She doesn’t offer anything more than that, and I’m not entirely sure where to go from there. When she moves to brush her bangs back, I catch sight of the finger she hurt from scratching at the table.
“Is your finger okay? It’s, uh, bleeding.”
She looks at her hand, then back at me.
I try a different tack, recalling the piano in her room. “I hope it doesn’t get in the way of your playing piano.”
The pale yellow of her prior amusement turns a more golden tone, into happiness.
Okay. Piano is good. “How long have you been playing?” I ask.
“Since I was five.”
“Wow, that’s a long time. Do you have a favorite composer?”
“Ashton. Do you know her?”
“She did Requiem for the Lost, right?” We turn down a side hall lined with doors. Some stand ajar to reveal glimpses of offices, meeting rooms, or living quarters. When we turn down another corridor, a Watcher—a small, black, spherical machine with video cameras for eyes and a microphone for a mouth—hovers past us. “That’s the only piece I truly know by her. I’ve heard her compositions are rather difficult.”
“I had plenty of time to practice until recently.”
“You played a lot at the prison, then?”
She looks away. “Less than I could have.”
“Will you keep playing now that you’re back?”
“Maybe.”
After a reasonable amount of silence, I say, “So, what are you good at when it comes to fighting?”
She doesn’t answer for so long I worry that I did something wrong. We pass through several more halls.
I should’ve led up to the question better. The few people I’ve spoken with about her all said she has a hard time staying focused. Perhaps I threw her off too
much.
Just as I’m about to attempt fixing the conversation, she says, “Double-headed spear. Close combat.” She stops and looks at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”
She dips her head and continues walking. I almost go after her, but I don’t know what I could say. In the end, I merely watch her back until she’s out of sight.
I open my folder and begin reading the files. This is going to take a lot of work.
5
LAI
THE MORNING AFTER our first meeting as a team, we gather bright and early in the training hall following a summons from Kitahara. After yesterday’s meeting, I pored over the files we were given, trying to see if there was anything useful that I didn’t already know. No such luck. And the gaping emptiness of my former quarters were hardly comforting after I finished. All I could see was the bed that once held my best friend.
I glance around the training hall, but not much has changed since I left. Most of the place is empty, meant to leave room for sparring, but doors in the back lead to locker rooms, bathrooms, and the practice weapons. The range is on the left, separated from the main space by a clear, soundproof wall. A few people are at the weight-lifting section on the right. Some soldiers are sparring in full Outside suits and gear to prepare for future fights against the rebels.
My new team occupies a relatively empty space near the center. A few people turn and stare at us. Many of them nudge their buddies and start whispering. Of course. The infamous Nyte team.
Several of their thoughts bubble up from the sea of voices in my head.
Is getting the demons to team up really such a good idea—
What if they run off and join the rebels—
There’s no telling what the demons will do—
Not for the first or last time, I bite back a curse at the stupid Council for creating this sort of team. All they want is to set us apart even further.
A clap of Kitahara’s hands brings me back to the present. His glasses are gone today, probably replaced by contacts so they don’t get in the way of combat. He wears the same black training fatigues as the rest of us. Despite the early hour, he’s straight-backed and alert. He strikes a stark contrast with Mendel, who doesn’t bother trying to hide a yawn, and Johann, who watches on with bleary eyes.
A Soldier and a Liar Page 5
