by R S Penney
Closing his eyes, Jack huffed out a sigh. “Anna's not in love with me.” The words came out harshly, but he couldn't help it. “If she were, she'd be with me.”
Musical laughter filled the air as Crystal spun to face him with a big grin on her face. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, shaking her head. “It some ways, you've grown beyond your years, but in this…”
“What you're saying doesn't make sense.”
“Love very seldom does.” Crystal hunched up her shoulders in a shrug, then strode toward him. This close, he seemed to tower over her, and yet she was still a giant in his mind. The woman who scolded him for filching cookies and kissed his forehead whenever he skinned his knees. “Sweetheart, you're at an age when it's hard for people to admit their feelings. Young people are obsessed with independence. It takes a special kind of wisdom to admit that we need other people.”
He was at a loss for words.
“I can see it when she looks at you,” Crystal went on. “I can see it when you look at her. Both of you are thinking it, and neither one of you wants to be the first to open your mouth. But your lives are changing.”
Baring his teeth with a hiss, Jack shook his head. “I can't just…” He marched past his mother, into the field, then threw up his hands in frustration. “What am I supposed to do? Just go up to her and say 'An, I fall asleep every night remembering how nice it felt to have you snuggled up in my arms?”
When he turned, Crystal was watching him with sympathy on his face. “You're just supposed to be honest,” she said. “And give Anna a chance to figure out for herself what she wants to do.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “I'll try.”
“Good,” Crystal said. “Now, let's go home. We can order a pizza and watch The Amazing Spider-Man.”
“Aw, Mom…”
“What?” she exclaimed. “You used to love that movie as a little kid.”
The door to her apartment swung open, allowing her to see the soft light of early evening coming through the living room window, a golden glow that fell upon the sofa and the glass coffee table. Her kitchen – off to her right – was still pristinely clean with the white countertops bare.
The novel she had been reading two weeks ago was still sitting atop the island, turned over to mark the page. Bleakness take her, it was so good to be home! To sleep in her own bed and shower in her own shower. She could even take a bath!
Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Oh, Companion have mercy,” she whispered, shutting the door behind her. “No more guerrilla wars, okay?”
Bradley came out of the bedroom door.
He wore a pair of jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, light glinting off the lenses of his glasses. “You're back!” he exclaimed, crossing the distance between them in two quick strides. “Oh, thank God!”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and for a moment, Anna just let herself enjoy the hug. It didn't matter that she was a mess or that her clothes were all rumpled. She was home.
Then reality came crashing in.
She pulled away.
Anna smiled, bowing her head to stare down at her own feet. “It's good to see you,” she said, nodding. “I, I don't even know where to begin. It was two weeks that felt like two years of endless stress.”
Bradley lifted his chin to study her with lips pursed, clearly pondering something. “I'm guessing you can't tell me about most of it,” he muttered, turning away from her. “I figure it's all classified.”
He marched into the living room.
Anna crossed her arms and followed with her head down, letting out a frustrated sigh. “You probably know most of it anyway,” she said. “It had to be the only thing the news talked about for weeks.”
Her boyfriend stood by the window with his back turned, gazing through the blinds at the buildings in the distance. “It was on the news every night,” he said. “But we didn't hear much. The communications blackout…”
She winced, tossing her head back. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, falling into the nearest chair. “That must have been excruciating for you. I wish I didn't have to put you through this, but…”
At the window, Bradley turned to look over his shoulder, his face locked into one of those unreadable expressions that drove her nuts. “I wasn't angry with you, Hon,” he said. “Just worried. When we finally did get the reports…”
He laid it all out for her, piece by agonizing piece. Shortly after Jack and Harry had restored communications, journalists had gone into the field to get footage of the war-zone. For the last five days, TV screens had been lit up with images of ziarogati and even some Keepers performing extraordinary feats.
Bradley even showed her a video depicting the aftermath of their skirmish on the Union Turnpike. She'd texted him, of course, to let him know that she was all right, but that was the first he'd heard from her in almost two weeks. Even before Slade had started jamming their communications, Jena had insisted on radio silence to minimize the chance of Slade's people finding them. At some point, she found herself explaining everything that had happened.
Her boyfriend listened with the usual patience she had come to expect from him; it was one of the things that made him such a wonderful person. In moments like this, she felt guilty for all those nights she had lain awake, wondering if she really loved him.
“The people of this world are lucky to have you,” he said when her story was over. “Would you like to go to dinner?”
Anna shut her eyes, tears leaking from them to run over her cheeks. “No,” she said. “Sweetheart, we have to talk. I got some news while I was in New York.”
“What kind of news?”
Sinking into the chair with her arms crossed, Anna looked up at the ceiling. “I'll be going back to Leyria when this over,” she mumbled. “It's not optional. They want me on a special task force that Larani is setting up to deal with Slade.”
Her boyfriend sat on the big blue couch with his legs apart, his hands resting on his knees. “Wait,” he said after a moment. “Slade is here. Why would you go back to Leyria to deal with him?”
“Do you remember when I told you about the Key?”
“Yes, I do.”
“We're close to locating it,” Anna explained. “And we think that once it's found, Slade will have no reason to remain on Earth.”
Whatever satisfaction she felt in that vanished when she remembered that it would also mean the end of her relationship with Bradley. She watched him for along moment, watched as he studied her through the lenses of those glasses. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Well,” he said, “that's good then.”
“I don't think you understand what I'm saying.”
He stood up with a sigh and slipped his hands into the pouch of his sweatshirt. “I understand what you're trying to say,” he replied, shuffling over to her. “You think that if you go back to Leyria, it means we're done.”
“Doesn't it?”
Bradley sank to his knees in front of her chair, craning his neck to meet her gaze. He really was adorable – or what was that charming Earth phrase? Adorkable? – with his big goofy smiles. “You really think I've never considered this possibility,” he said. “I knew your career would eventually take you off world.”
Biting her lower lip, Anna squinted at him. “Am I hearing this right?” she asked, shaking her head. “You're saying you want to come with me?”
His face went red, and he lowered his eyes as if to hide his own embarrassment. “Not counting Justice Keepers, 3,217 citizens from this world have migrated to Leyria. I would like to be number 3,218.”
“But you have a life here. I'm not worth this much effort.”
“It's not just about you,” he said. “Anna, your people see space travel as just a fact of life, but my people wouldn't have even thought it possible a few years ago. The chance to live on another world isn't something I would pass up. I've looked into it, and it turns out immigration is
fairly simple, at least comparatively speaking. It's kind of sad that it's easier for me to move to another planet than it would be to move to another country on this planet.”
Anna smiled into her lap, a lock of red hair falling over one eye. She brushed it away with a casual gesture. “So you're saying that you'd move to another planet for me. That's a pretty big gesture.”
He looked up at her with one of those cheesy grins that she found so endearing. “Anna Lenai,” he said. “Will you move in with me?”
“Yes.”
Bradley rose up to gently cup her face in both hands. Then he leaned in close and kissed her on the lips. It was sweet and tender…but…Shouldn't she feel something a little more substantive than gratitude for his kind gesture? Well, there was the growing anxiety that she might be making a mistake.
It was such a big step, moving in with someone; she'd never done it before, unless you counted living with Jack for just over a month. Bleakness take her, Bradley was willing to move across the galaxy for her. Shouldn't she be more excited? And less terrified? But then, this is what people did, right?
Her parents had divorced when she was a girl, and she could remember the many times her father had insisted that relationships took work and effort. No two people got along perfectly. Bradley was a good person; he was kind and attentive; she enjoyed her time with him. Shouldn't that be enough?
Was she selfish for wanting more?
You need to grow up, Anna, she told herself. Put those silly, childish notions out of your head. You have a good guy here.
She pulled away with a chuckle, sitting back in the chair. “So,” she began. “Let me tell you about some of the places you have to visit when we go to Leyria.”
“You should have seen her,” Harry said.
His ex-wife sat in a chair at his kitchen table with her legs stretched out beneath it, a beer bottle in one hand as she listened to him tell the story. Truth be told, he was really quite surprised that she hadn't launched into one of her diatribes about putting their kids in danger.
Harry leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms folded, heaving out a sigh. “She was remarkable, Della,” he went on. “You might have thought she'd been handling life-or-death crises all her life.”
Lifting the beer bottle to her lips, Della closed her eyes and took a sip. “Well, what did you expect, Harry?” she asked, setting her drink on the table with a loud thunk. “This is what she wants to do.”
Harry winced, shaking his head. “I expected her to be a teenager,” he said, pacing across the narrow aisle between both sets of counters. “Not a seasoned field medic with nerves of steel.”
“She gets that from you.”
“A compliment, Della?”
His ex looked up at the ceiling and rolled her eyes. “Don't get used to it, Harry,” she said. “But it's true. Ever since she was a little girl, Melissa has tried her damnedest to be just like you.”
Harry smiled, then let his head hang, suddenly aware of a burning in his cheeks. “Well, I suppose there are worse role-models,” he muttered. “But I would have preferred it if she picked someone like Hillary Clinton.”
Ignoring the comment, Della slouched in her chair and lifted the beer bottle up to peer through it. “So, have you decided yet?” she asked. “Are we going to let Melissa do her Keeper training on Leyria?”
“Larani Tal says she's willing to make the transfer,” he said. “But only if Melissa requests it. I haven't had the chance to ask her directly. You know how these things are. You push too hard, and she'll insist she wants to stay here.”
In truth, he'd been avoiding this topic for a while. If Melissa went to Leyria, he was going with her – there was no way he'd let one of his children just fly-off to another solar system without supervision – but that almost certainly meant leaving Claire behind in her mother's care.
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. There were days when Della gave him a hard time about the dangers of his career path, but they both knew he was the responsible parent. She got to take the girls from time to time – and though he had initially resisted it, it was good for them to spend some time with their mother – but they lived with him.
Would it be fair to uproot Claire and just transplant her into another society where she knew nothing, not even the language? What about friends? School. Would she be able to adapt to a Leyrian curriculum? Melissa was on the verge of adulthood, Claire was just shy of puberty. His eldest could handle that kind of change, but his youngest?
“What about Claire?” he asked.
A sour expression passed over Della's face before she covered it up with one of her less-threatening scowls. “I know you object to it, but Claire can live with me,” she said. “I'm not exactly strapped for cash.”
“No, just good judgment.”
“Says the man who allowed aliens to play with his brain.”
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, groaning into his own palm. “You're right,” he growled. “This kind of fighting gets us nowhere. Have you considered the possibility of letting Claire come with us?”
“You wanna take away both my kids?”
“I want to keep my daughters together.” He spun to face her, then shuffled over to the table with a soft sigh. “But I can see why it might not be in Claire's best interest. She might be happier here.”
When he looked up, Della was watching him with her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes focused on him like a pair of laser beams. “Have you considered asking Claire what she wants? I'm guessing not so much.”
“She's ten years old.”
Della put the bottle to her lips and took another long swig. “Ten-year-olds usually have a pretty good idea of what they want, Harry,” she muttered. “That's your problem. You're so used to being Mr. Authority, it never occurs to you to ask.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Leaning back in her chair with hands folded behind her head, Della stared up at the ceiling with an open mouth. “Didn't you ever ask yourself why I left?” she snapped. “Did it never occur to you to wonder?”
Shutting his eyes tight, Harry trembled with a surge of rage. “You left me because you never finished growing up!” he spat. “Life was just supposed to be one big party. Let the rest of us handle the clean-up.”
She turned her head to fix her gaze upon him, blinking as if he'd suddenly started speaking gibberish. “I left because I was tired of you making every decision for me,” she said. “You always get to decide the limits of responsible behaviour.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you think your priorities are universal,” she hissed. “Any sensible person would instantly agree with you.”
That wasn't true; he knew perfectly well that other people had different priorities, but Claire was a child. There was no way a girl her age could understand the magnitude of a decision like this. As her father, it was his duty to figure out what was in her best interest and then do that, only…
Melissa had fought him for months when he opposed her decision to become a Keeper. Ironically, it had been Della's advice that had convinced him to give his eldest a little more latitude. That had done wonders for their relationship. Maybe his ex-wife had a point.
She spared him the burden of having to think about it – in typical Della fashion – by putting her foot down before he'd had a chance to mull it over. “Talk to your daughter, Harry,” she said. “If you don't, I will.”
Dressed in black pants and a matching top with a round neck, Jena stood before the gray wall of the Science Lab. Her muscles ached, and her nerves were so frayed she was ready to bite someone's head off.
A shower, a hair-cut and a good night's sleep had done very little to ease her stress. She still felt as if she might have to fend off an attack by cybernetic monstrosities or evil robots at any moment. No amount of scrubbing made her feel clean. Her people had all insisted that she stay behind. Generals didn't fight on the
battlefield.
Now, Raynar was dead.
It would have played out the same way if you had been there, she told herself. But that was a lie. In all likelihood, things would have been very different, but not necessarily better. There could have been more deaths or greater devastation. Telling herself that did little to ease her guilt.
Jena shut her eyes, trembling as she let out a hissing breath. She turned her face up to the ceiling. “Thank you all for coming,” she began. “We just got some very big news from our resident code-breaker.”
She turned.
Harry, Jack and Anna stood side by side in the middle of the room, blinking at her like a pack of raccoons who had just witnessed some thoughtless human leaving tasty treats by the roadside.
The hologram of Ven appeared as a vaguely man-shaped being of swirling light – yellow, this time – and lifted its ghostly hand to gesture at the wall. “I have reviewed the data Jack and Harry brought back from their last mission,” it said. “I can safely say that I have located the final cipher.”
Another hologram appeared before the gray wall, this one depicting a 2D map of North America and slowly zooming in on a spot in the American Mid-West. The white rooftops of tall buildings came into view.
Biting his lip, Jack squinted at the map. “Minneapolis?” he asked, shaking his head. “I don't know, Ven. The last two ciphers were smack dab in the middle of nowhere, not in a major city.”
The hologram inclined its ghostly head as if to study the map. “I can assure you that my calculations are quite accurate,” it said through the loudspeaker. “This only make sense in light of the fact that Overseer technology attracts humans.”