SHARD: Book One of The Shard Trilogy (A YA Sci-fi Teens with Powers Series)

by A. M. Pierre

  Ezio stood up, a tightness in his features. “How dare you.”

  Connor grinned. “Ah, so I finally got a purely emotional reaction from the master of the ‘proper turn of phrase.’ Accusing you of systematically crushing young girls’ hearts? Nothing. But cheating? At least you draw the line somewhere.”

  “That is not it. I agree such emotional manipulation is wrong. However, the simple fact is I am not guilty of it.”

  Connor laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “You arrogant little—see, this is the problem. You can’t see it all happening even when it’s right in front of your face—even when it’s pointed out to you! And then, when it’s pointed out to you, you don’t stop to consider the possibility that it’s true! You are going to break Kaia’s heart like you did the others, and I am not going to stand by this time and let you do it.”

  Ezio stared at him. “‘This time . . .’ Why is ‘this time’ different?”

  Connor shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t get what you’re saying.”

  “You say I have done this many times before. However, this is the first time it has moved you to action. Why is that?”

  “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came here to talk about you.”

  The corner of Ezio’s mouth twitched upward slightly. “Now who is having problems seeing things?”

  Connor moved to the door. “I’m leaving, but I’m not letting this go. I don’t care what you think my reasons are. They don’t matter, anyway. What matters is you’re hurting her, and I want you to stop right now before you hurt her anymore.”

  “But, Connor—”

  Connor slammed the door behind him and stomped back to his room. Like Ezio was an expert on feelings. They could all be carrying around flashing neon signs with their emotions listed on them—like “Mildly Happy” or “Slightly Melancholy” or “Ready to Kill You for Being So Incredibly Thick”—and the idiot still wouldn’t have a clue.

  Even if Ezio was right about why Connor was so upset (he wasn’t), it wouldn’t make any difference. Girls never gave Connor the time of day (he wasn’t). If they saw him as anything, it was as the “funny friend” who you hung out with and nothing more.

  (he wasn’t)

  Regardless, Connor was done. He was ready to stop thinking about infatuated females and clueless males and groundless accusations and just relax in his room. There, at least, he could be away from the two of them and have some time by himself.

  He was half right.

  “So where have you been?” Dice asked from where he sat cross-legged on Connor’s bed. “Interrogating introspective Italians?”

  “I’m not in the mood, Dice.”

  “I can see that. Can hear it, too. Did you know your poshness sometimes slips when you’re angry?”

  “I’m not kidding. Get out of my room, mate.”

  “No.”

  Connor’s fists clenched. “In case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t asking. Get out of my room. Now.”

  Dice pulled his mobile phone out and started playing a game. “I saw Kaia a couple of minutes ago. She looked quite scary, actually—like a tiny but very dangerous thundercloud—and was muttering to herself about a British idiot. Bizarrely, I immediately thought of you.”

  Connor sat down on the small settee in the corner of his room. “Stay out of it, Dice. You’re my friend, not my therapist.”

  Dice kept playing with his mobile. “Which is a shame, because you could use one. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen you do this.”

  Connor sagged into the settee in defeat. “Fine, I’ll bite. Seen me do what?”

  “Start getting close to someone, then push them away.”

  “And yet, sometimes, no matter what I do, they still won’t leave. Like right now, for instance.”

  Dice finally set the game down. “I’m serious. You’ve got to stop. You can’t live the rest of your life terrified that people will let you down.”

  “I’m not terrified. I’m realistic. People let you down. It’s what people do. People leave.” Connor glanced pointedly at the door. “Except for you.”

  “So what if they leave? So what if you lose them? You can’t lose them unless you’ve had them in your life in the first place, and at the rate you’re going, you’re never going to have anyone. If you want to have the good times in life, you have to risk having the bad.”

  Connor nodded thoughtfully. “Those are very nice words. Very pretty. But I see one tiny little problem with your logic—I’ve had plenty of bad, and there’s never been even one bit of good to go with it. So why should I let myself keep getting hurt?”

  Dice looked him straight in the eyes. “She’s different, you know. Kaia. I can see why you like her.”

  “I swear, if one more person says that . . . You know what, it doesn’t matter, ’cos even if I did like her, nothing would ever come of it. She doesn’t fancy me, okay? And even if she did, it still wouldn’t matter, because it wouldn’t last. Why is it so wrong that for once in my life I would like to avoid the pain instead of running into it at full-tilt?”

  “I’m not going to say there’s no way she’d ever hurt you, but I’ve got a feeling she’d never leave you like they did.”

  There was a moment of stillness, where everything stopped. Waiting. “Like who did?” Connor’s voice was quiet. Dangerous. It was a dare, and they both knew it.

  “Your parents.”

  Connor’s voice was trembling. “There’s a line, even with good friends, and you just crossed it, mate. Get. Out. Now.”

  Dice got up slowly and made his way to the door. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He was still facing away. Refusing to look back. “Ms. Smith has a new mission for us. I guess I’ll see you at the briefing tomorrow.”

  Dice closed the door gently behind him, and Connor finally had what he wanted.

  To be alone.

  Kaia had avoided Connor all day. She had eaten her meals in her room, grabbing some leftovers for breakfast and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. The only reason she had taken her place at the dinner table was to hear about the new mission.

  As dinner began, she made a silent resolve: her normal seat might be next to Connor, but it didn’t mean she had to acknowledge he was there. She was only slightly annoyed to realize he had resolved to do the exact same thing. She tried focusing across the table instead and noticed Alizée staring at her plate with a sour expression and a wrinkled-up nose.

  Ezio noticed it, too. “Is something wrong?”

  “Whatever this is doesn’t deserve to be called food. It’s mush. Flavorless mush at that.”

  Kaia didn’t know what expression Connor was making since she was refusing to look at him, but she could hear his stupid, snarky grin in his voice. “If you didn’t have something to complain about, you wouldn’t be happy. The food’s fine.”

  “The Brit likes the food? Now I know it’s trash.”

  “Ha! You wouldn’t know good food if it bit you on—”

  Ezio set his glass down with an overly loud thwack. “Can we keep it civil, please?”

  “No worries, Z. I can hold my tongue if the Alley Cat can.”

  “I’ll believe it when I hear it, Brit boy.”

  “Children, please!” The vid screen behind Ezio’s head lit up, and Ms. Smith’s disapproving face towered over them. “We have some serious things to discuss this evening. I had hoped you would have a little more recovery time, but, unfortunately, the world doesn’t care what I want. A highly volatile situation is brewing in East Asia, and we have been discreetly asked for assistance.” A zoomed-in black and white photograph of an older Asian man appeared on the screen. “A rebel faction, led by this man, is holding around 40 women and children hostage until their demands are met by the local government. They have set a deadline—quite literally. The government has a policy of never
negotiating with terrorists, but neither do they desire to abandon their citizens to their deaths. Thus, they have called on us for help.” Ms. Smith’s face replaced the photo. “Yes, Mr. Rhys?”

  Kaia tried not to roll her eyes as Connor spoke. “Why don’t they send in their own military to take these guys out? You’d think they’d want the glory of the rescue for themselves.”

  “A valid, legitimate question for once, Mr. Rhys. I’m pleasantly surprised.”

  “You know I live only to please you, ma’am.”

  “Don’t push it. To answer your valid question, the difficulty is political. A year ago, there was an incident involving a large group of hostages which included several prominent members of a competing political party. The military attempted a rescue, which failed miserably and resulted in the deaths of multiple hostages, including the politicians. Predictably, the media painted it all as a deliberate maneuver by the ruling regime to eliminate its biggest rivals. The current ruler is in a no-win situation. If his men fail again, it will show them—and by association, him—to be weak and incompetent. However, if they succeed, people will question why the previous situation ended so tragically. All of the conspiracy theories floating around at the time would rise again—except with more ammunition.”

  Dice didn’t even raise his hand. “How do we know they’re theories?” A few groans came from around the table. “Maybe this guy really did foul up the rescue to eliminate the competition.”

  “Whether it was a set-up or not, Mr. Yamamoto, it does not change the fact that right now there are innocent people who need our help.”

  Dice thought for a second. “Okay, but that still leaves one very odd thing—you haven’t told us any names. Not of the country, not of the rebel leader, nothing. Why?”

  Ms. Smith smiled. “Well spotted. For security reasons, only Mr. Yamamoto will know the exact details of this mission—up to and including the name of the country you’ll be infiltrating.”

  “But that’s insane!” Connor again. “You expect a team to go into an unstable country without even knowing where they are? What if something goes wrong?”

  “View it as extra incentive to make sure it goes right. After Mr. Yamamoto’s briefing, we will have a joint briefing session in the rec room. I expect you all to be there.”

  * * *

  Connor was quite proud of himself. He’d gotten to the rec room early and had snagged a solo chair. No settees for him! After an absurdly uncomfortable dinner sitting next to someone who might have actually turned to ice during the meal, he wasn’t taking any chances on an encore during the briefing. As the room filled up, however, he realized his mistake. When everyone but Kaia had taken their seat, it was confirmed—while having her sit next to him was uncomfortable, having her sit directly across from him was worse.

  Her bottom had barely hit the cushion before she was glaring at him full force. Connor didn’t know where to look, but he certainly didn’t want to confront those burning laser beams. Dice cleared his throat, and Connor gratefully shifted toward him instead.

  “All right, everyone, listen up. I have the info, I have the plan, and I have the names of the two people who will have the inestimable pleasure of accompanying me on a trip filled with danger, deception, and desperados.” Dice looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I wonder if ‘desperados’ came from the Spanish word for ‘despair’? Anyone know?”

  “Mr. Yamamoto! Focus!”

  Dice glanced over his shoulder at the looming face of Ms. Smith on the big-screen TV behind him. “Right, right, sorry. Anyways, it is likely we will encounter some desper—some not-so-nice guys on this trip, including their leader, who I am calling ‘Mr. X.’ Mr. X has a reputation for being vicious, violent, and cruel. He’s a real jugulator.”

  Vladimir leaned over towards Kaia. “Is archaic English word. Dice has been trying to bring it back.”

  “Why shouldn’t I bring it back, Vlad? It’s awesome!”

  Vladimir ignored him. “Was on a one-a-day calendar I bought him. One week, Dice was yelling ‘Bezonter me!’ every time he ran into one of us in the hall. It was getting very old. Next year I am getting him calendar with puppies or kittens instead.”

  Dice cleared his throat. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Vlad, is that Mr. X is a right proper jugulator and deserves the thrashing we intend to give him. Now, getting in: the borders are essentially closed. Rebel insurrections sometimes have that effect. The government has given me an official pass and a cover story to go with it, so no problem there. However, as all foreigners are currently verboten and I’m the only Asian on the team, the other two operatives will have to be sneakier in their approach—details to follow later. Once we’re all in, we will meet at the designated rendezvous point and head out together. During the mission, I will provide surveillance and intel, including running translations of any local chatter. No, Kaia, that doesn’t mean we’re going to Japan.”

  She looked around wide-eyed. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “But you looked it. And the look said, ‘Ah, he speaks Japanese, so we’re going to Japan. Unfortunately for your truly Holmes-ian deductive skills, Japanese is not the only Asian language I speak. Anyways, while I’m hiding heroically and listening to radio waves, two of our heavy hitters will take out the guards in whatever non-lethal fashions they prefer, allowing us to free the hostages at our leisure. Then, we exit the country by posing as foreign students who wish to return to the relative safety of their respective homelands after being scared to bits by all the general unpleasantness. Any questions?”

  Vladimir raised his hand. “Yes. I am thinking you are leaving out highly important detail. Who have you chosen for going with you?”

  Dice grinned. “I was saving the best for last.” He held up a piece of paper snootily in front of him like he was introducing someone at a royal ball. “The team members for this mission are as follows: Yamamoto Daisuke. Connor Rhys. Kaia Davis.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!”

  “You’re out of your bloomin’ mind, mate!”

  Connor turned and looked at Kaia. That had been so synchronized it was almost scary. Dice held one hand to his chest as if in shock. “Why, I do declare, it seems you two might be havin’ a little ole argument. Surely not! To suggest a conflict might have arisen between the two of you stretches the bounds of imagination to a breaking point. To even imply—”

  “Shut up, Dice.” Connor could barely get the words out.

  “Now Mr. Rhys, there’s no call to vent your frustrations on Mr. Yamamoto.” Ms. Smith’s smug face seemed to be mocking him. “I am the one who made the mission assignments, and if you try telling me to shut up there will be serious ramifications.”

  Connor seethed in silence. A multi-hour journey to a foreign country. A dangerous insertion into a land where he didn’t speak the language. And his only companion on this trip, literally the only person for miles who would even be able to understand him, was going to be the girl who hated him with the fire of a thousand suns. Brilliant.

  “Ah, cheer up little campers. I know something that’ll make you two feel better.” Dice held up a small scrap of paper. “Voila! Your code names for this assignment.”

  Connor muffled a groan.

  “How quick you are to judge me.” Dice made a clucking “tsk, tsk” noise with his tongue. “I’ve tried really hard this time. Before I reveal them, though, I have a new proposed team name.”

  “No.”

  “You haven’t even heard it yet.”

  “Still no.”

  “We’re bending the elements to our will, so we could be . . . The Chemists!”

  “Wow, that’s really—no.”

  Dice sighed. “Fine. One of these days, though, you’ll come around. In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for you loving my code names.”

  Connor rolled his eyes. �
�That’ll be the day.”

  Dice ignored him. “First up, Connor. For this mission, your codename will be . . . Typhoon.”

  “That’s—” Connor paused mid-complaint and thought for a second. “That’s actually cool. I saw this old TV show once where they had a plane called a Typhoon racing against the fastest car on Earth. You remember, I told you about it when we . . . hey, wait a minute—”

  “Moving on! For Kaia, I have a name I thought was dangerous enough for a guy but girly enough for a, well, a girl and which was especially appropriate given your exploits on your last mission . . . Shard.”

  Kaia seemed to consider that. “I like it. Thanks.”

  The light bulb went on in Connor’s head. “It’s twenty-one this time, isn’t it?”

  Dice wouldn’t look at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It is!” Connor turned (somewhat reluctantly) to explain to Kaia. “See, a while back—twenty missions back, to be precise—we were all involved on a particularly massive assignment, and we made a bet on who would come back first. Dice won and, for his prize, chose naming privileges for everyone for the next twenty missions. This is twenty-one, so it goes back to the way it was before, with all of us choosing each other’s names. Dice was trying to be sneaky by naming both of us,” Connor grinned, “but now I’m going to have some fun.”

  Dice grimaced. “I gave you ‘Typhoon.’ Please play nice.”

  “After the names I’ve had these past few months? ‘Summer Breeze’? ‘Zippy Zephyr’? ‘Break Wind’? We’re beyond nice.” Connor smiled in a slightly evil fashion. “And I have the perfect name for you . . . Analog.”

  Dice looked like someone had just erased his hard drive. “You are a cruel, cruel human being.” His eyes widened as if he’d remembered something, and he gave a slightly evil smile of his own. “I almost forgot. About your insertion into the country . . . you and Kaia will be using Method 7.”

  Connor could feel his face going white. “You’re having me on. You can’t expect Kaia to do that. I’ve had some experience, but there’s no way she’d be ready in only a couple days’ time.”