by R S Penney
“It's just a theory.”
“A scary one.”
“The point is that if we can determine what made these people follow Slade in the first place, we may be able to figure out how to make them change their minds. You won't get much out of a religious fanatic, but convince them zealotry won't earn them a place in heaven, and maybe they'll listen.”
“No easy task.”
“No,” Jack said. “It isn't.”
When he turned back to her, she was hugging herself and rubbing her upper arms, shivering as if a cold wind had blown through the otherwise comfortably warm office. “I think we both need a break.”
“You took the words out of my mouth.”
“Dinner?”
He was about to accept when something made him pause. It dawned on him that he was becoming more and more comfortable with the growing familiarity between himself and Cassi, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. Was this how life worked. When the person you loved went away, did you just start loving someone else? Even if you didn't really want that? He was happy to have Cassi as a friend, but…his heart still belonged to Anna. Didn't it?
Of course, it wasn't as if he had much choice in the matter. Anna had decided to push him away for reasons he didn't fully understand, and there wasn't much he could do about that. Life had to go on, one way or another.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
Through his bedroom window, Harry watched his backyard under the deep blue sky of fading twilight. It was hard to make out the flowerbeds with only the soft light of two lanterns hanging from hook-shaped metal poles, but the image was pleasant nonetheless. His daughter had company tonight.
In light of that fact, he had suggested that Claire sleep over with her friend Ralita; his youngest was at a point where she tried to torment her older sister whenever possible, and he knew Melissa would want some privacy. Thankfully, the Savalis were more than happy to host their daughter's new friend from Earth.
Harry would have never imagined that he would be completely unconcerned about the prospect of his daughter dating, but after everything else they had been through? And besides, she was a grown woman, or close enough anyway. He had come to realize that he didn't want to be the overprotective father. Not anymore. Now, if only he could retain this level of inner peace when Claire eventually reached the age where she started seeing boys…or maybe other girls.
Harry stood with his hands on the windowsill, breathing slowly as he tried to ignore the guilt that he felt. His chat with Anna had been helpful, but there was still a small part of him that blamed himself. For all the good it did.
He turned and went to the dresser.
Pulling open the top drawer, he moved a few rolled up pairs of socks aside to reveal something nestled in the corner. A sphere of rolled up flesh about the size of a tennis ball. For almost four months, he had left the N'Jal hidden in this drawer without ever looking at it. Why would he want to be reminded of the day Jena died?
And he had done plenty of good as just plain old Harry Carlson. Maybe it was best to just leave the thing in there forever. Throwing it away wasn't an option when it twisted the mind of pretty much anyone who found it. He was still a little anxious about the fact that he seemed to be immune.
What had the Overseers done to him?
It didn't matter; he was still Harry Carlson. Shoving the drawer closed, he went downstairs to say his hellos.
The last traces of daylight were fading from the sky as Melissa looked out over the backyard. Her eyes had never been very good at seeing in low light, but she could sense everything around her. Every flowerbed, every fence post. By this point, she had grown so used to being able to intuitively feel the world around her that she couldn't imagine going back to the way things were. She was intimately aware of everything in her world, including the young man at her side.
Aiden sat in a wooden deck chair with a glass of sparkling apple cider in hand, a distant look on his face as he watched the night sky. “So, he just brought you onto the case?” he asked. “Just like that?”
Melissa felt her lips curl, a touch of warmth in her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she nodded once. “It wasn't quite that simple,” she said. “I think Director Andalon was quite annoyed with me, but…I guess we made progress.”
Aiden was smiling into his lap, shaking his head. “You really are something else,” he murmured. “You know, you might not be aware of this, but people tell stories about you and your friends.”
“My friends?”
“Agent Lenai,” he said. “Agent Hunter, that LIS operative who went rogue only to become a hero in the Battle of Queens – I forget his name – Even your father. You guys are the stuff of legends.”
Now, she was really blushing.
Covering her face with both hands, Melissa trembled as she laughed. “I think you might be exaggerating,” she said. “We're just a bunch of people who try our best to make the world a better place.”
She turned to find him looking over his shoulder, watching her with dark eyes that were full of awe. Soft light from the lanterns cast shadows over his face. “You really do think that, don't you?”
“Of course! What else would I think?”
“Melissa, do you know how rare it is for a Keeper to Bond their Nassai outside of the official Bonding ceremony? Mine is scheduled for nine months from now, and that is only a formality to see if a Nassai will accept me.
“Your team has three Justice Keepers who received their symbionts under unusual circumstances, two of whom are now prominent figures in the history books. And if that wasn't enough, your friend from LIS is a convicted criminal. You work with a telepath – I'm not supposed to know that, but people talk – and you were in some way involved in the events that opened the class-2 SlipGates and allowed rapid transit across the galaxy. I'm still not entirely sure how that played out.”
“Believe me, you don't want to.” Didn't Aiden realize that it wasn't appropriate for him to ask? “It's a day I'd rather forget.”
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“It's okay.”
The back door swung open, and Harry stepped out onto the patio, planting fists on his hips and staring off into the distance. “So, what do you say, Melissa?” he asked. “Did I do a good job with this place.”
“A very good job, Dad.”
He strode across the patio, extending his hand to Aiden. “Harry Carlson,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”
Aiden smiled up at her father. “Likewise, sir,” he said, taking Harry's hand and giving it a good squeeze. “I was just telling your daughter about how you and your team have become legendary.”
Harry's brow furrowed, and he took one cautious step backward. “Legendary,” he said in a gruff voice. “I don't know about that; we just did what needed to be done when it needed doing.”
“With respect, sir,” Aiden countered, “I'd imagine that's true of most legends.”
“I like this kid, Melissa.”
Leaning back in her chair with her arms folded, Melissa smiled down at herself. She shook her head slowly. “Well, as long as you like him, Dad; we all know that that's what really matters.”
“Damn right.”
Suppressing her irritation took some effort. She knew her father was only joking, but they'd had so many fights about Harry wanting to direct the course of her life in the last few months that she couldn't really find the humour in it. Especially when he made the joke right in front of the guy she liked.
Well…Sort of liked. She hadn't really spent that much time thinking about it, but they did have good chemistry, and he was very cute. Maybe inviting Aiden over hadn't been a good idea. With the way her luck was going, Claire would come stomping out the back door any moment now and start in with her usual antics.
When she looked up, she saw that her father had his eyes shut as he let out a long, slow breath. Maybe he'd noticed his faux-pas?
“So,” Harry said. “When did you realize you wa
nt to be a Keeper, Aiden?”
“About five years.”
Please, just go, Melissa thought at her father. Harry was just trying to be polite – she knew that – but there was really nothing worse than having one of your parents along for a non-date with the guy you may or may not have a small crush on.
“Five years,” Harry said. “What made you-”
He was cut off by the sound of Melissa's multi-tool beeping like crazy. The thing was making so much noise and vibrating so hard that she half thought it would pop right off her wrist. Checking the screen revealed the source of the trouble.
The security systems at several vertical farms, two power plants and half a dozen food distribution centres had reported a breach. Keepers and local law enforcement were mobilizing. The situation was so dire that the automated systems had alerted anyone with a symbiont, even cadets. It must be that because Aiden's multi-tool was silent.
Melissa looked up at her father with eyes so wide it felt like they might fall out. “I think I have to go.”
Her father's mouth twitched, and he gave his head a shake as if trying to get rid of an unpleasant thought. “You haven't exactly finished your training,” he said. “And there are plenty of experienced Keepers-”
“Dad.”
“-will be able to-”
“Dad!”
Harry stiffened.
Melissa stood up, putting herself face to face with her father, and did her very best to keep her voice even. It was a miracle she wasn't shaking. “This is an all-out attack on the city's infrastructure,” she said. “I have to go.”
In less than a second, Aiden was out of his chair and standing beside her. “Maybe I should…” The words died in his mouth, and he looked away, shame painting his face red. “There's not much I can do to help, is there?”
“No,” Melissa said gently. “There isn't.”
“No, son; you can't help her,” Harry said. “But I can.”
Chapter 13
“You can't come with me!” Melissa shouted.
Harry winced, shaking his head. “You're a half-trained cadet!” he growled, racing up the stairs like some kid half his age. “I'm not going to let you face God only knows what on your own!”
He turned.
His eldest daughter stood at the foot of the stairs with the hem of her shirt clenched in her fists. “What about Claire?” she snapped. “What happens if you get hurt.”
“Claire is sleeping over with her friend Ralita.”
“Dad, that's not the point!”
He ignored her as he ran up the last few steps and pushed open his bedroom door. The room was dark, but lights came on as soon as he stepped inside, revealing a window on the back wall and a wooden dresser across from the foot of the bed.
Yanking open the top drawer – he practically threw the whole thing to the floor – he flung socks aside and uncovered the N'Jal. The Overseer device was still warm and when he picked it up and held it in front of his face.
The N'Jal uncurled, bonding with the palm of his hand, microscopic fibers digging into his nervous system and flooding his brain with a new sense of awareness. He could feel the air pressure, the humidity, and a dozen other little things his mind didn't bother to identify. It drove away his sense of helplessness.
No one else was going to die because Harry Carlson had shied away from a fight. Least of all his daughter. Quickly, he pulled open the bottom drawer and retrieved the pistol Jena had assigned him when he joined her team. Technically, he was still a member of that team; so, no one had demanded that he return it.
With a grunt, he ran out the door and back down the stairs. Melissa was no longer waiting in the foyer. Damn that girl! She had no business rushing off to fight terrorists on her own!
He pulled the front door open.
A narrow stone pathway cut through his front lawn to a sidewalk at the edge of his property, and he could just make out lights in the windows of the house across the street. It wasn't hard to track Melissa.
Thrusting a hand out in front of himself, Harry let the N'Jal sense her pheromones. As expected, she was running for the nearest train station. And she had worked up quite a sweat along the way.
Harry chased after her.
He found her on the sidewalk maybe four houses away, jogging toward the subway terminal at the end of the block. The instant Harry got within a line of sight, she froze and spun around. “You're gonna follow me no matter what I do!”
Closing his eyes, Harry wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I am not letting you go alone,” he panted. “You want to run? Go for it! There's no way that I can keep up with you!”
He started up the sidewalk at a fast jog, his shirt clinging to his back. Surprisingly, his daughter just waited there with her head thrown back, rolling her eyes. “But,” Harry insisted. “I will follow you. So we're better off going together.”
She seemed to accept that – grudgingly – and fell in beside him as they ran for the closest major thoroughfare to pass through their neighbourhood.
No one else was going to die because of him!
What will you do if these guys also have EMP rounds? some part of him wondered. He ignored it. Claire was safe, and that took away any hesitation he might have had about accompanying his eldest on this fool's venture. If anything happened to him, the Leyrians would contact Della, and while he cringed at the thought of the tirade she would kick up if he got himself killed…he'd be dead! He wouldn't have to listen to it. Claire was going to be all right whether he went or not. But Melissa…He was not going to let her face the danger on her own.
They ran for the subway entrance.
The instant Helina's nano-blade cut into the mesh of the chain-link fence, alarms started blaring, filling the night with noise. This much racket would put the whole damn neighbourhood on alert, but Aldin was prepared.
The food processing plant was a simple, box-like building with no real artistry to its design: a simple building that stood three-stories tall beneath a dark sky. Automated skids were carrying crates of processed food – cereals, canned vegetables, ready-made meals – down a wide road to the building next door where they would be sorted into grocery deliveries. Well, not after tonight.
He surveyed his little group.
Five people had come with him on this mission: three other men and two women, all dressed in dark colours. They shuffled about nervously, exchanging furtive glances and letting out the odd shuddering breath.
Helina was down on one knee on the sidewalk, carving a hole in the fence with a blade that extended from her multi-tool. From this angle, Aldin could only see the back of her head, but he heard her panting.
A tall man in black pants and a matching jacket, Aldin wore his brown hair parted in the middle and pulled back from a pale face with a strong jawline. “Hurry up!” he said, stepping forward. “When we practiced this, it only took you fifteen seconds.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Helina hissed like a cat. “You're not helping.” She rose slowly, dragging her blade upward to complete the hole in the fence.
“I want to get inside before the security drones-”
Right on cue, several gray, egg-shaped robots rose from the roof of the building and began floating toward them. Each one had a cylindrical aperture on its front side – a gun that could pivot on a ball-joint – and a horizontal slit that glowed with blue light. Almost like a visor. “Please stand down,” they ordered in a soft, soothing voice.
Aldin's group of half a dozen people backed up onto the sidewalk.
“Do it!” he shouted. “Now!”
His companions threw open their jackets, drawing pistols from concealed holsters. That action alone was enough to provoke a response. The drones reoriented themselves, pointing weapons at Aldin and his people. Stun-rounds erupted from those cylindrical nozzles.
One hit him right in the chest, but the electric current diffused into the protective vest he was wearing. That strange hooded woman had kept her
end of the bargain. This was the worst he could expect; drones that used lethal ammunition had been outlawed when they proved to be a little too good at killing. Yet another sign that his culture had become weak and decadent.
The centre drone floated upward, trying to get a shot at his head.
Aldin threw himself down onto his belly, lifting his pistol in both hands, selecting EMP rounds. He fired and watched white tracers converge on the drone, striking it just below the glowing horizontal slit.
The drone fell.
“Hail our people!” Aldin shouted. “Hail victory!”
As she raced up the steps that led from the subway station to the street, Melissa felt her heart pounding. She stopped, halfway to the top, and looked back over her shoulder. “Are you okay, Dad?”
Her father was coming up behind her, gasping and shaking his head. “Hey, I might be middle-aged,” he muttered, “but I'm still in pretty good shape. I used to run the track every day, remember?”
“I remember.”
She ran for the top of the steps and found herself at the corner of an intersection where one of the streets that extended from the downtown core like spokes on a wheel intersected with one of the curving local roads. There were buildings on every corner, an arts centre that stood three stories high with a pyramid-shaped skylight on its roof, a tool library where residents of his neighbourhood could borrow household tools.
The food production centre was just a little ways up the road; of all the places to be hit, this one was closest to her house, only two subway stops away. “Come on,” she said to her father. “I don't know if any other Keepers have responded to-”
She cut off when an explosion lit up the night sky.
Not the food processing centre – it was far too distant for that – but one of the many vertical farms along the city's perimeter. They had lost another one. “We have to move!” she told her father.
They turned down the curving street and ran hard. Only a block and a half from the intersection. To his credit, her father managed to keep up the whole time, though she was running at a slightly reduced speed.
