by A. M. Pierre
Kaia opened her eyes. And smiled.
A casual twirl of her wrist, and the dry sandy dirt beneath her feet swirled up into a blinding whirlwind which encompassed everyone in the vicinity. The men surrounding them might have yelled out in surprise, but if they did she didn’t hear them. There were stones in the dirt, and they were singing, too. Rocks the size of fists exploded out of the ground then dove back down with a vengeance and slammed violently against guns and the hands holding them. She didn’t bother stopping to see if she’d disarmed them all, because she could hear the bells ringing, oh so brilliantly, and she knew she had one last trick up her sleeve.
Her hands flew up, arching through the air like a dancer’s. She vaguely registered Ezio sliding down to flop on the ground. Can’t worry about him right now. The intensity of the music increased, pulsed through the core of her, as she grabbed every note she could find. She pushed all those beautiful melodies down, deep down, all the way down through her legs where they bounced back up again. They sent her up onto her tiptoes, like the wave of sound was physically pulling her up even as she pulled it up in turn.
The clanging of the bells was pounding in her skull now, threatening to deafen her. There were so many of them, so very many. It would be all too easy to let them go. No, that can’t happen. This is my symphony. I decide when it ends. She pushed their song ever higher, stretched their sounds past the point of pain. Her head felt like it would explode, but they were so close, so very close, she almost had them . . .
BOOM.
With a deafening klaxon of crashes, every single solitary piece of glass on the base burst into hundreds of razor-sharp shards of sound.
Every window.
Every computer screen.
Every forgotten drinking glass left sitting on some dust-covered table.
No way Kaia could control all the fragments she’d created, but the bigger chunks weren’t too hard. She quickly found a couple dozen pieces—each bigger than her hand—and brought them flying across the compound to end up exactly where she wanted them . . . held against the throats of every single one of the men threatening to kill them.
Kaia turned to face Mr. Clarke, barely visible through the slowly settling dust. For the moment, she felt as cocky as Connor usually looked. “I would say, ‘Everyone drop your weapons!’ but that seems a bit unnecessary now, doesn’t it?”
“Wow.” Ezio looked around from his seat on the ground. “That was im-pwessive.”
Kaia felt a little glow of pride but didn’t let him distract her (too much). She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the small but dangerous man in front of her. “So, Mr. Clarke. We’re going to leave now, so you need to move out of our way.”
The small man just stared at her, as if reading her soul. A small trickle of nervousness wound its way back into Kaia’s body. Why is he looking at me like that? I have the upper hand here. Kaia heard something behind her, a small tinkling tone, and she did her best to keep her expression steady as she realized what it was.
Her grip on the glass was slipping. Using her abilities in such a massive way had spent her last reserves of energy. Kaia could feel her strength ebbing, fading away. At this rate, she had a minute or two, tops. She let her frustration flow into her voice. “I said, ‘Move!’”
Mr. Clarke didn’t even flinch. “I don’t think so. You see, it all comes down to calculations, and I’ve done them all. While the loss of these men would be costly, they are not irreplaceable. The only one here who is, is me. So the only pertinent question is whether or not I feel my life is in danger.” He glanced down at the glass shard hovering by his jugular. “I’ve looked into your eyes, child. You are brave, noble, and in possession of some truly amazing gifts, but you are not a killer.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Pick up your weapons, men.”
A voice boomed out all around them. “I don’t think so.”
Kaia could feel tears welling up in her eyes. “Dice!”
“In the flesh, er, intercom. All right, all you bad guys, let’s put those guns where you’re not so inclined to use them.” On cue, all of the weapons skidded ten feet further away. “You know what, let’s eliminate the temptation completely, shall we?” In unison, the guns rose up into the air and flew through the sky. “Oh, and can I say, thank you so much for choosing bullets with copper shell casings—so much cooler than the normal brass, don’t you think? Not that I couldn’t use brass, per se, but it’s an alloy so the percentage is lower and—never mind, just know that I appreciate you making my job easier.” Dice cleared his throat, creating a burst of intercom static. “Anyways, sorry about the dramatic entrance. I tried to make my presence known a little more subtly, but someone doesn’t have their earpiece turned on. For shame, Dorothy.”
Kaia grimaced. She’d forgotten she’d turned it off when the two guards had discovered their crate earlier. She guiltily toggled it on again.
Dice’s voice was immediately in her ear while what had to be a recording continued talking on the intercom about how awesome he was. “Good to have you back online, Dorothy! I want you two to start walking towards the main gate. No one’s guarding it at the moment—they all came after you. I know the side walls are closer, but they were electrified when the alarm sounded. There’s an insulated electrical inlay in the concrete that will, essentially, taze you if you try to climb it now, and it isn’t made of copper so I can’t break it. I honestly didn’t know about it until I saw a particularly adventurous lizard go flying off. I had been hoping for an electrified portcullis, but I have to admit that’s pretty cool, too. Anyways, I digress. Let’s get you guys out of there!”
Kaia and Ezio had only shuffled a couple of steps when Mr. Clarke moved to block their path. The intercom boomed out again. “Nah ah ah,” Dice said in a taunting voice, and Kaia pictured him wagging his finger at his computer screens. One of the mercenary’s guns came flying back, stopping an inch away from Mr. Clarke’s forehead. “Sadly, you can’t look into my eyes, can you?”
The older man looked straight at Kaia. “Go. Just be aware, if you leave me alive I will find you again. I can’t say how long it will take, only that it will happen. Nothing personal, you understand. It’s business.”
“Oh, shut up and let them through,” the intercom commanded.
Mr. Clarke stepped to one side, and they began shuffling toward the front gate again. Dice’s voice whispered in her ear. “If you guys could hurry up, it would be incredibly helpful. I know I make the thing with the guns and the threatening people with guns look easy, but I can’t do it for long—it’s a somewhat awkward copper-to-big-heavy-gun ratio.”
Kaia saw motion out of the corner of her eye—Ezio was looking around. “Hey,” Kaia said, “you with us?”
He nodded slowly. “I think so.” His speech was still a little slurred but definitely clearer. “Are we leaving?”
“Yeah, we’re trying to get away before . . . wait a minute. Can you stand by yourself for a little bit?” She made sure Ezio was balanced, then rummaged through her backpack.
Her earpiece crackled. “Um, Dorothy? We’re kind of in a rush.”
“Give me a sec.” She pushed past a couple of meal packages, a flashlight that strapped to your forehead, a folding shovel . . . Bingo! She pulled out the metal container that still reminded her of a modified soup can. “The pin on this thing wouldn’t happen to be made out of steel, would it?”
There was a laugh in her ear. “Sure is! Do you think Stony’s up to it?”
“One way to find out.” She held the canister in front of Ezio’s face. “Do you see this?” He nodded. “Do you think you can use your power to pull this pin?” In response, the pin started to move. Kaia grabbed for it in a panic. “No, no, no, not yet! Wait until I throw it, okay?” She turned to look back at the unarmed but extremely angry men staring at them. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three!”
Kaia threw the container as h
ard as she could and was pleased to see it land right at Mr. Clarke’s feet. A second later, white clouds of knockout gas billowed outward, and, while she couldn’t see them, she could hear men dropping like flies. She got back into her role as Ezio’s human crutch. “That oughta give us enough time to make a getaway, don’t you think, Dice?”
“Indeed. We just need the last member of our party—and here she comes now.”
Kaia turned to see Alizée running over to meet them. “Where were you?”
Alizée glared at her. “Do not start with me. Someone had to finish what Ezio had started. The bomb electronics are no longer of any use to anyone. I may not like it, but I always do my job.” She ducked down and got under Ezio’s other arm. “And right now, this is my job.”
Part of Kaia wanted to protest, but the worn-out part of her was perfectly fine with it. Actually, “worn-out” is an understatement. Try “absolutely exhausted.” And rather dizzy all of a sudden. For a moment she thought she was going to fall over, but her own human crutch appeared at her side as if by magic.
Dice smiled up at her. “I thought I’d come lend you a hand, er, shoulder.”
Kaia smiled back. “What took you guys so long?”
Dice shrugged nonchalantly. “Traffic.”
“Glad to see everyone back in one piece.” Ms. Smith beamed down at them as they finished up their dinner. The couple of days since Dice’s team had returned had been blissfully Ms. Smith-free, but Connor had known it couldn’t last. “I know we usually debrief within 24 hours, but at least the delay has given me a chance to read the mission reports in full. You handled yourselves well. Quick thinking on all fronts made the best of a bad situation, and you prevented the senseless murder of innocent children.”
Ezio cleared his throat. “If I may, ma’am—”
“Well, aren’t you looking better, Mr. Rossi. Back to your normal self again?”
Ezio almost looked embarrassed. “Yes, thank you. After another round of Elemental Therapy, I believe I am nearly at 100%. This would not have been possible without Kaia’s aid in the field—which is why I wished to speak on her behalf. I know she broke one of our rules by using her powers in view of the public, but it was only because she was following one of our other rules—never leave a man behind. I tried to persuade her to leave me, and it is to her credit that she did not. She saved my life, and I would not have it marked against her.”
“Mr. Rossi, thank you for your impassioned defense, but I assure you it’s unnecessary. Her actions are not being held against her.” She looked over at Kaia. “It does, however, bring me to another point. You showed a new level of control out there, Ms. Davis. Have you been perfecting it since your return?”
Connor had hoped Kaia’s reportedly amazing performance might have helped her confidence levels a bit, but, if the way she was pulling at her hair and rubbing her pendant was any indication, it didn’t look like all that much had changed. “I . . . I’m sorry. I’ve tried, but I can’t do it.”
“I’m not sure I understand. You could then, but you can’t now?”
Kaia looked like she wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Poor kid. “I mean, I can do stuff but not . . . it was different then.” Kaia gulped slightly. “There wasn’t any way out, and that made me . . . not afraid somehow. And then I—” She glanced quickly over at Connor then back away again, her cheeks taking on a hint of pink. Huh? What was that about? “I’ve tried in the practice rooms, but it’s not the same.” She hung her head down. “I’m sorry.”
Ms. Smith’s blood-red lips curved upward, but Connor would be hard-pressed to call it a smile. “At least we now know you have the potential inside you. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.” Her gaze swept over the rest of them. “All of your medical scans came back in the acceptable range, but missions can take their toll in other ways. I’m glad you all have had a few days to rest, and hopefully you’ll have a few more. You’ve earned it.”
Dice raised his hand. “What are your thoughts on the camera anomaly I reported?”
“Mr. Yamamoto, many things can happen in the middle of a mission. I’m not implying you created this incident out of thin air. However, you only saw this image for a fraction of a second. We have to consider the possibility your mind simply interpreted it incorrectly. Unless and until we discover otherwise, that will be our working hypothesis. Understood?”
Dice seemed fairly unconcerned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Connor frowned. Dice was rarely “unconcerned” about things which had the whiff of conspiracy about them, and he certainly never let them go with a deferential “yes, ma’am.” No, it was more his style to worry them to death, chewing them over with the determination of a rabid hyena until all that remained were tiny shreds of inference, intrigue, and insidious innuendo. Connor tried to catch Dice’s eye, but Dice remained perfectly still, staring right at Ms. Smith as she continued with her final encouragements and congratulations.
Her obligatory pep talk done, the vid screen flicked off, and Connor relaxed. He looked over at Dice and gave him a very clear “what was that all about?” look. Dice frowned and almost imperceptibly shook his head, which was equally clear: not here.
“I hope Ms. Smith was not making you nervous.” Vladimir patted Kaia on the shoulder. “She is not being the fuzziest of people.”
“Fuzziest?” Gabby looked confused. “Are you sure you have the right word there?”
“Yes, yes, I am sure. It is like how you say someone is giving you warm fuzzy feeling. She is not fuzzy.”
Connor couldn’t help but smile. “I couldn’t have described her better myself, mate.” He gave Kaia a friendly nudge with his elbow. “Vlad’s right about not letting her make you nervous. She’s abrupt with everyone. She doesn’t mince words or take time for many of the niceties of civilized conversation. She’s not,” he paused and smiled slightly, “she’s just not fuzzy.”
“Who said I was nervous? I was fine.”
Connor stared pointedly at her hand, which was still rubbing her pendant. “Course you were, love. Can’t imagine what made me think otherwise.”
Ezio interrupted before Kaia could come back with anything truly caustic. “My friends, I would like to echo Ms. Smith’s sentiments and say how glad I am we all returned in one piece. To celebrate our safe return despite some truly terrible odds, Ms. Jones and her assistants have kindly made us a cheesecake for dessert.”
“Well, I, for one, am glad Ezio is finally out of the infirmary,” Alizée purred as she rubbed his hand. Connor did his best not to roll his eyes. Subtle, guys, real subtle. “I really don’t care about the cheesecake,” she added.
“You cannot be meaning that.” Vladimir looked positively shocked. “Ms. Jones’ cheesecake is to kill for.”
Mikaël nodded solemnly in agreement.
“I think the expression you’re looking for is ‘to die for,’” said Gabby.
Vladimir frowned. “But that is not making any sense, because then I would be dead—and I would not have any cheesecake.”
Gabby thought for a second. “You have a point.”
The doors to the kitchen swung open, and Ms. Jones wheeled in a cart holding a delicious-looking chocolate chip cheesecake. Connor readjusted the napkin in his lap . . . and saw a folded piece of paper sitting on top of it. He caught a glimpse of writing on the inside—Dice’s writing. How did he . . . ?
Connor opened the note underneath the table. My room. 30 minutes. Bring Kaia.
Connor couldn’t recall Dice’s room ever looking quite this messy. Connor didn’t claim to be the epitome of tidiness either, but this was on a whole different level. Multiple corkboards were festooned with pictures and crisscrossed with threads of a dozen different colors. Stacks of documents covered nearly every available inch of flooring or furniture. Dozens of empty energy drinks lay scattered through the wreckage. Connor picked his way carefully thro
ugh the mess, while Kaia did the same behind him.
When Connor had told her about Dice’s request, she had come along without even questioning it—something Connor found rather odd. Then again, she’d seemed a bit out of it for the last couple of days. She hadn’t even risen to most of his attempts to pick fights with her. Some, yes, but not most. A question for another time.
Dice didn’t look up from whatever he was reading. “Shut the door behind you.”
“Dice, what’s going on? This is way crazier than your normal paranoid antics.”
Dice gestured emphatically at the door. He waited until Kaia closed it to speak. “I can’t be certain they don’t have audio or visual feeds coming out of our rooms, too, but it’s a chance I’m going to have to take.”
Connor took a quick look around. “Who are you talking about?”
“Them.”
“You may not realize this, but with you that really doesn’t narrow it down.”
Dice cleared two spaces on the small couch opposite his desk, motioned for them to sit, and then rolled his desk’s swivel chair over, sitting right in front of them. He leaned in closer, and they mirrored his movement, leaving their faces less than a foot away from each other. Dice silently mouthed the words in an extremely exaggerated manner—The Company.
Connor flopped backward onto the sofa and let his head loll from side to side on the backrest. “Really? This isn’t exactly breaking news, you know. They video our training sessions, our orientations, all that stuff. We’re allowed to watch it ourselves if we want to see how we did.”
“That is not what I am talking about. I’m talking about the camera glitch I”—he made finger quotes in the air—“‘imagined.’ You heard what Ms. Smith said, right? She said I only saw the image for a fraction of a second and that my brain probably misinterpreted something.”
Connor still couldn’t see the problem. “So?”