by A. M. Pierre
“It appears we’ve traded places. Now you’re asking questions I don’t want to answer. Truce?”
She sighed. “Fine. Truce.”
Connor shoved his hands in his pockets in a slightly sullen sulk of revived and unwanted memories, and silence fell once again as they kept on trudging down the road.
* * *
“You’re alive! And you’re on time!” Daisuke gave each of them a hug as Kaia and Connor walked into the safe house. “I was starting to doubt the first thing, which gave me little reason to hope for the second.” Daisuke led them to a couch in the cramped living room. He pretended not to notice how far apart they sat. “So, what went wrong? Last night I received a message from your ‘hotel’ saying you never showed. And what on earth happened to your eye?”
Connor looked at him sideways. “I’m really going to have to look in a mirror, aren’t I? I must admit, I’m both curious and a little freaked out.” He shrugged. “As for what went wrong, Kaia had a total bag lock malfunction and her reserve didn’t open, so I tried to kill myself by releasing my own chutes and using the force of my brain to slow us down. To cut a long story short, I managed to get us back on solid ground, but my brain may never be the same.”
Daisuke barely heard anything past the first line. “Did you say both her parachutes malfunctioned?”
“Yeah, I know, highly unlikely, but it happened.”
Daisuke shook his head. “I’m not questioning whether it happened. I’m questioning the odds. It’s not ‘highly unlikely.’ ‘Practically impossible’ is more like it. Main chutes are more likely to go wrong than reserves, but, despite what you might see in the movies, even that’s really rare. Say, maybe 1 in 1,000? Then multiply that by the odds of the reserve going bad as well, perhaps 1 in 2,000, and you get a probability of approximately 1 in 2,000,000 for a double malfunction to happen accidentally. I don’t buy it.”
“So what are you saying? Something happened to her rig?”
“Something . . . or someone.”
“Dice, does anyone know we’re here besides the government and The Company?”
“No, our insertion was clean.”
“Does the government or The Company have any reason to try and take us out before we’ve completed the mission?”
Daisuke spoke very slowly. “Not that I’m aware of, but it still doesn’t explain this. It’s Occam’s Razor, Connor. It is HIGHLY unlikely both parachutes would have a randomly-occurring malfunction during the same jump. The likeliest explanation is external forces tampering with the rig, and the likeliest explanation is usually the correct one. It is possible the external forces in question were unintentional in nature—damage during transit, perhaps, or a local reserve packer who doesn’t know his stuff—but, again, the more likely explanation is a malicious, intelligent force at work.”
He turned his attention to Kaia. “Can I see your reserve? I can find out pretty quickly if someone tampered with it.”
She looked away. “Sorry, I cut it up.”
“You did what now?”
She looked back at him, a little defiantly. “I cut it up. I had to drag him, and movies lie about there being sticks nearby, so I rolled him on it and dragged him.”
“. . . I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kaia gestured vaguely in Connor’s direction. “He passed out. I couldn’t carry him. So I cut the lines off the reserve and used it to drag him across a field into a shed.”
Both of the boys just stared at her. Daisuke spoke first. “He passed out?” He turned to Connor. “I know you said you used your powers, but what exactly did you do that made you pass out?!”
Connor waved the question off without even looking at him. “Later.” He stared at Kaia. “I knew you moved me a little bit, but across a field? How far was that?”
Kaia looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, a hundred yards, maybe?”
“A hundred . . . do you know how much more I weigh than you? How on earth did you pull that off?”
A proud little smile crept on her face. “Very slowly, but I did it.” She held up her left hand, which Daisuke only now realized she had been hiding inside her jacket pocket. It was swollen, her dark skin brushed with streaks of purple and red. “I couldn’t even use both my hands, either.”
“Kaia, what did you do?!” Daisuke turned on Connor. “Why didn’t you at least try to put a splint on it or something?”
“You can’t put this off on me—she wouldn’t even let me look at it, let alone do anything to it. I don’t know why, but she was really being a brat this morning.”
“I’m a brat? I spent all night worried sick about you, thinking you might die, and when I wake up the first thing you do is make fun of me!”
Connor grinned. “Worried sick, huh?”
Kaia turned to Daisuke with a completely exasperated face. “You see? This is what I’m talking about.”
Daisuke stuck his fingers in his ears in a purposefully overdramatic fashion. He waited until they’d both quieted down before he spoke. “First off, I don’t really care about the details of your little lovers’ quarrel. Second,” he added, before their protests could stop him, “Kaia really needs a doctor to look at her wrist, but for now I’m going to give her some ibuprofen and an ice pack, wrap it up as good as I can, and make her sit in the corner and rest it until the mission. Oh, and Connor, I need you to go sit in the other room.”
“Um, why?
“Because I don’t want to get hit by any barbs flying between you two while I’m working on Kaia’s wrist.”
Connor kept grumbling under his breath as he walked away, but at least he walked away. Now for Kaia’s hand. Daisuke’s best guess was she had badly sprained it, but he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t broken. Hopefully his makeshift methods would keep her from hurting herself further until she saw a proper doctor. He took a med kit out of a cabinet on the wall, pulled out a splint and some bandages, and started wrapping it up.
“Hey, Dice?”
“I’m sorry, is it hurting you too much? I’m trying to be careful.”
“That’s not it. I had a question about . . . about Connor. He had a bad fever last night, and he said things in his sleep, like asking someone not to leave. It sounded like it was his parents. Do you know what he was talking about?”
“Yes, I do. Did you ask him about it?”
She nodded.
“And what did he say?”
Kaia looked away. “He said he didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Then I can’t, either. Sorry, but it’s his story to tell, and his choice who he tells it to.”
“Let me guess. It’s a truly depressing childhood, full of terribly horrible adults doing terribly horrible things.” Her voice softened. “Sounds like it’s been the same for all of us.”
Daisuke smiled slightly as he put the final clips in place on Kaia’s bandage. “Not me. My parents were wonderful. Couldn’t have asked for better.”
“So, are they waiting for you back in Japan?”
“In a way, you could say that.” He was still smiling, but he didn’t know why. “They were killed in a car accident when I was 10.” He could feel Kaia’s eyes boring into him, so he stood up and moved over to a nearby window. “And there you have the birth of my very first conspiracy theory. None of it made any sense. They were coming home from a weekend getaway in Kyoto, but it was all wrong—my dad always liked highways, but they were found on a back road. The police said he had been speeding—I’d never seen him break a traffic law in my life. Neither of them were wearing their seat belts—my dad wouldn’t even put the key into the ignition unless we had all buckled up. It didn’t add up. None of it. And if something could be that messed up in a little wreck on a country road in Shiga prefecture, who knew what might be wrong in the big bad world?”
“I didn’t have a clue . . . I’m so sorry.�
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“Don’t be. I’m not.” Daisuke turned to her with a smile, but this time he knew exactly what it was for. “I mean, I wish they were still here, of course, but I’m not sorry I had them in my life, even if it wasn’t for quite as long as I’d hoped.” He blinked a couple of times to try and clear his eyes. “You see, I had two people who loved me and had my back no matter what, who did everything they could to make me happy. Believe me, I know how rare that is. It hurts me every day that they’re not here, that I can’t tell them about the weird new thing I’ve invented or what stupid thing Connor said or any of the random, weird, and stupid things that make up my life. I know it’s going to keep on hurting, too. But, the thing is, even if I had known how much it was going to hurt once they were gone, I would never have given up a minute of the time we had together.” The blinking wasn’t working any more, but he had to finish this. “After all, it only hurts this bad when they’re gone if it was good while they were here, right?” He coughed lightly. “I’m sorry, but I have a few more things to get ready. We’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes, okay?” Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.
* * *
Something had happened between Dice and Kaia. Connor was sure of it. Both of them had been acting funny since Dice had wrapped up her hand. Like now in the car, for instance—they were on their way to the hostages’ location, and Dice was sitting up front next to the driver . . . quietly. Yeah, something was definitely up.
Connor leaned over to Kaia (who was, due to a distinct lack of seating choices in the incredibly small car, sitting right next to him) and whispered in her ear. “Hey, what’s going on with you two?”
She whispered back. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, right. You both are acting weird. What’s going on?” A dark suspicion crossed Connor’s mind. “Did you ask him about what I said last night?”
Her eye twitched slightly. “Why would you say that?”
“You did! I knew it. Couldn’t let your curiosity about me die, could you? I admit, I am rather fascinating.”
She glowered at him. “You always assume everything’s about you. The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know?”
“Oh, believe me, I am well aware of how little the world cares about me. And I’m not assuming everything is about me. I’m assuming every time you get yourself in a huff, it’s about me. And so far, I’ve been right.”
She turned away to stare fixedly at the back of Daisuke’s head.
Something occurred to Connor, like the last piece in a jigsaw falling into place. “You know what your problem is?”
Kaia rolled her eyes. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“You judge people. You’re a judg-ity judge-y judge . . . Okay, so I didn’t fully think that insult out before I said it, but it’s still true! You make these snap impressions of people and you’re so stubborn you won’t ever let them go. You’re still looking at me the same way you did the day we met at the airport.”
She looked at him, then, and it was a look of complete disbelief. “And how did I misjudge you? You’re sarcastic.”
“Granted.”
“Cocky.”
“True.”
“You tease people.”
“Incessantly.” Connor grinned. “Although you are forgetting things like ‘has a tendency to shoot his mouth off without thinking’ and ‘has a problem with authority figures.’”
Kaia pursed her lips. “So what did I get wrong?”
“It’s not what you saw then. It’s what you’ve refused to see since. Come on, admit it, sometimes you think I’m not that bad a guy.” No response. The part of him that had really (stupidly) hoped for a reaction died a little. The part that had always expected the silence snickered in knowing contempt. On the outside, all that came through was a sad little laugh, escaping in a single puff of air. “The thing is, I have no problem whatsoever seeing all my flaws. I’m kind of the expert at it.” His voice went even lower, so low he wasn’t sure it even qualified as a whisper anymore. “I guess I always hoped my friends would try to see the good parts instead.”
* * *
Kaia’s stomach sank. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. That wasn’t how she’d meant to act.
It never was.
Connor was right. As soon as he said it, she knew he was right. Had always known, to be honest, but she didn’t generally like being completely honest with herself. For one thing, she didn’t often like what she ended up saying. It was kind of sad to get in an argument with yourself and lose. Probably why she avoided it.
Something else she knew when he spoke—she didn’t want him to be right. She didn’t want to stubbornly hang onto her pride anymore if it made what he said true. She had friends, now, real honest-to-goodness friends, and she knew she cared about hanging on to them. Including the one sitting next to her.
For all he had said that was right, Connor had got one thing wrong: she did see his good points. He had risked his life for her less than twenty-four hours ago, true, but there had been tons of little things before that. When they’d first met, he had known the truth would make her mad, but he took the heat because he didn’t want to lie to her. He had snuck her out into the real world against orders, risking who knows what kind of punishment just to make her feel better. He had arranged a picnic with fireworks to welcome her to the family (of course I knew he put it together—why did he try to hide it?). He always looked out for her and tried to keep her safe (even though he sometimes—okay, usually—does it in ways that get me angry). Yeah, he messed up, but he tried to do the right thing. And she should try, too. “Hey, Connor.”
He continued staring out the window.
“I . . . I wanted . . . What I mean is . . .” For Pete’s sake, how hard is it to say? “I’m sorry. You’re right.” It’s only four words, woman! Well, two words and two contractions, but that’s not the point. Spit it out! “What you said . . . I think . . .”
“I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Forget I ever said it.”
“No, I . . .”
He tapped his fingers on the glass. “Great. Now you’ll have something else to hate me for. You can add it to the list. ‘Number 58: Insulted me in Asia.’ Don’t worry, I’ll see if I can requisition a bigger car for the ride back so we won’t have to sit in such close proximity. If you’d like, I can even make an oxygen wall so we won’t have to breathe the same air.”
“Would you shut up for a second and listen? What I’m trying to say is—”
Dice turned around in his seat. “We’re here.”
The two of them just stared at him for a moment. Kaia spoke through gritted teeth. “You know, Dice, you have the worst timing of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“It actually seemed pretty good to me,” Connor said as he slid out the door.
Remember, you don’t want to slap him—you want to apologize.
Kaia looked her conscience square in the eyes. Are you sure?
Connor did his best to get his mind out of the valley it had settled into and focus instead on what Dice was saying. It wasn’t easy.
“Seeing as how this is our first mission together—and, as I suspect this will be our new team assignment, only the first of many—I decided to make something special to commemorate the occasion. Ta dah!” Dice handed each of them a metal pin an inch square in the shape of an origami crane. “Aren’t they cool?”
“Yes, they’re very nice.” Connor started to put it in his pocket.
“Now, now, none of that.” Dice wagged his finger like a disapproving teacher. “Come on, don’t be a spoilsport. Put it on.”
Connor frowned. “Why?”
“Do you need a reason when a good friend is asking you nicely?”
“When it’s about wearing jewelry on a mission, yes.”
Dice groaned. “It’s not jewelry. It’s a commemorativ
e pin. It could be worth a bundle one of these days.”
“. . . To who?”
“Covert ops commemorative pin collectors, duh.”
“Wha—?”
“It’s very thoughtful,” Kaia interrupted. “I’m happy to wear it.”
“Sure. Fine. Thanks.” Connor pushed it so hard through his shirt he accidentally stuck himself.
“On to more important things. I received our final orders last night while you two were having fun trying to kill yourselves. Rebels are still holding hostages, and it’s still our task to save them. There is, however, one slight change.” Dice cleared his throat. “We’re going in silent on this one.”
Kaia looked confused, but Connor knew exactly what it meant. And he didn’t like it one bit. “What possible reason could they have for making us do that? It’s asking for trouble.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaia said, “but what does that mean, exactly?”
“It means, love, that they expect us to go in without having any way to communicate with the outside world or each other. It means that if anything goes wrong, we’ll be completely cut off from each other. I’ve only done it once before, and I hated every minute of it.” Connor turned to look at their large, silent chauffeur. “Is he going to wait for us here, then?
Dice nodded. “His orders are to stay here for a set amount of time and then, regardless of whether we have returned or not, leave.”
Connor squinted. “And how long, pray tell, is this ‘set amount of time’?”
Dice shrugged. “It would only generate more stress if I told you, now wouldn’t it?”
“Dice?”
“We’re on the clock now. Call me Analog.”
“Okay. Analog?”
“Yeah?” Dice tried to hold Connor’s gaze but broke away after a few seconds. “Fine. You win. It’s thirty minutes.” Dice glanced back at him. “You are far too good at staring contests, you know that?”
“Never mind that—thirty minutes?! Are they completely mental?”
“I’m not saying I like it, Typhoon, I’m saying that’s the way it is.” Dice hoisted his pack up onto his shoulders. “Time to head out.”