by Dan Levinson
“On a trial basis,” he amended. “You’ll be observed closely. If your performance slips, or you show signs you’re not cut out for command, I won’t hesitate to pull the plug.”
“I understand, sir,” she said.
Oddly, the first thing that popped into her head was that she could not wait to tell Jackie.
“We’ll have to shift around your schedule,” Dobbs said. “Isn’t as easy as showing up whenever you’re free. I’ll make a call, get you assigned an adviser, and we’ll go from there.” He picked up his pen, jotted something down, then looked back up at her. “Well? You got what you wanted. Don’t just stand there with your mouth open. Get out of here. Celebrate. God knows you won’t have much time for that soon.”
She snapped her mouth shut, her teeth clacking together, then opened it again to speak. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “You don’t know what this . . . Thank you.”
Outside Dobbs’s office, Kay sagged against the wall in sheer relief and took a moment to collect herself. Then she made her way to her room and changed into street clothes—a tanktop and loose jeans. Then she changed again, into a dark blouse and nicer, tighter jeans that showed off her legs. Why she felt the urge to dress up, she did not know.
It wasn’t as if Jackie was her boyfriend.
God, she’d never behaved this way with Nyne!
Kay rode the elevators up to the surface. In Grisham it was warm year-round, but in a couple of months it would be summer. The days were already hot. People walked the streets in T-shirts and shorts. Sandals were in full effect, though there were always those in Grisham who wore them for every season.
Rather than walk to Jackie’s apartment, she hailed a cab. He did not know she was coming and she figured she would surprise him. While Grisham’s military compound was built flush against the north wall of the city, Jackie lived on the east side, in a high rise building. She had never been in an apartment as nice as his. It had a large open space that served as living room, dining room, and den. There was also a full kitchen, a washer and dryer, and a master bedroom with a king-sized mattress and enormous windows that overlooked the city.
The cab driver let Kay out on the south side of the street, across from the apartment’s crème brick veneer. The streets were wider here, the sidewalks broad and unblemished. There was hardly a piece of litter in sight, nor any of the usual smells from hot dog and kebab stands. One day, when she had risen in the ranks, maybe Kay could afford to live off-base.
Somewhere like this.
Kay headed to the crosswalk. As the light turned, she saw Jackie emerge from his building with a second man she did not recognize. They were engaged in intense conversation. Instead of crossing over, Kay hesitated. Jackie appeared to defer to the other man, who somehow managed to be both muscled and gaunt, his skin lighter than her own tan. The man was dressed all in black and wore his hair in a buzzed down dark sheen. For some reason he made her stomach turn loops.
Was this Jackie’s client?
Then the man looked at her; looked through her, more like. Even across the street, there was something indefinable about his gaze that froze her to the core. He had the air of a predator stalking its next meal—hungry and violent.
The man glanced away from her.
Kay shook with relief. Had he really been looking at her at all? She didn’t see why he would have been; he didn’t know her. Yet just then she’d been certain his attention had been on her, and only her. The thought gave her such a chill that even the day’s heat could not keep her from shivering.
The man appeared to have concluded his business with Jackie, because he took off down the block at a brisk pace. Jackie watched the man leave, then withdrew into the building.
The street light turned again, inviting Kay to cross.
She did not.
There was just something about that man in black she couldn’t let go . . .
She took off at a fast walk, mirroring the man on the opposite side of the street. In the time it had taken her to decide to follow him, he had already covered half the block and she had to move quickly to catch up. This time of day, the crowds were sparse, but she tried her best to weave through small clumps of pedestrians for whatever cover they could provide. She watched the man only out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to look like she was going about her own business.
She tailed him for close to a mile, into the more commercial area of the city. Brownstone apartments, public parks, and refined bistros gave way to ritzy hotels, popular eateries, and boutiques with flowing dresses and immaculate leather handbags on display. The surroundings hardly registered; she was too busy wondering about the man.
If he wasn’t the client, he had to be someone Jackie worked with. Another lawyer? She knew some of those guys could be real vultures. That might explain why he gave her such a predacious vibe. She didn’t know what she expected to find by tailing him, but the thought of the man being near Jackie made her uneasy. It wasn’t as if Jackie needed her protection, of course . . .
She stopped. The man was gone.
Dammit. She’d gotten distracted.
Just then she caught sight of him entering a side street. Luck was on her side, because at that moment the traffic light changed, allowing her to cross. She strode to where the man had turned, then halted. If he was there, she would no longer be able to maintain her illusion of being a simple passerby. But she had no other recourse.
She screwed up her courage and walked by the mouth of the alleyway.
No one was there.
She walked past again. It was a dead end, terminating in the rear wall of a building. Where had the man gone? Tentatively, she entered the alley. It was possible the man had hidden himself in a doorway or behind a dumpster. Only, if he had hidden himself, that meant he knew he was being followed. He could be lying in wait, readying an ambush. No, that was ridiculous. He was just some guy Jackie worked with, or a representative of this Black Industries.
Why did this man have her so on edge?
Kay searched the street from top to bottom, and found no sign of the stranger. There was a fire escape on the left, but the ladder was retracted. She was certain the man wouldn’t have had time to climb, raise the ladder, then make it to the roof, all before she arrived. She even checked inside the dumpster, piled with bags of stinking refuse, and found nothing.
She felt like an idiot.
It wasn’t as if the man had been doing anything wrong, or suspicious. Why would he ever have seen the need to hide from her, anyway? The whole thing was complete madness. It was just as well she had lost track of him. Whatever had possessed her to go after him? She was certain there had been something sinister about him, but maybe she’d imagined it.
Was it possible she was jealous of someone else vying for Jackie’s attention? She laughed. That was even more ludicrous than her wild goose chase! But what other explanation was there? Despite the many times she had refused to reveal her own secrets to Nyne, she realized she knew very little about Jackie, and wanted to know more.
If that made her a hypocrite, fine.
She set off back toward Jackie’s apartment, still feeling foolish. If she wanted to know about Jackie’s coworkers so badly, she should’ve just asked instead of engaging in what amounted to stalking!
She decided to stop at a liquor store on the way, to purchase a bottle of wine or two. Today was a happy day; she was supposed to enjoy herself. The store was not a place she had been before. Exposed wooden support beams slanted across the ceiling. Racks held row upon row of dark bottles. Kay selected a seven-year-old merlot. She also grabbed a pinot grigio from the refrigerators. She was only an occasional wine drinker, with no head for vineyards and vintages, no nose for what set the bouquet of a cabernet apart from a petite syrah. She chose her wine by look and gut instinct.
Kay strolled the rest of the way to Jackie’s apartment, trying to appreciate the day. A light breeze flowed through the city from the east, pleasant and perfect for a balmy day. She re
ached the apartment and entered the lobby, with tiled floors and tastefully framed art prints. Kay checked in with the doorman. He gave her a conspiratorial smile when he saw the wine and sent her up without calling ahead.
Jackie was on the fifth floor, and Kay decided to take the stairs to work off a little steam. She was still annoyed over her absurd fixation with that strange man. By the time she arrived at Jackie’s door, 502, she had gotten her heart rate up and felt better for it. She rang the bell.
A few moments later, Jackie answered, shirtless, in a pair of gray sweats. When he saw her, he grinned, then seemed to register his unclothed state. Were his skin not so dark, Kay thought she might have been able to see him blush.
“You always answer the door like that?” She tilted her head and flashed a smile of her own—the sort Nyne had always found so disarming. She would use every weapon in her arsenal to distract from the fact that her eyes were glued to his torso. God, the man had abs like a statue.
And if she wanted to drink in the sight, so what?
“Wasn’t expecting company,” he said. “Come on in.” He opened the door wide for her.
The red leather couch in the living room area had been pushed back, and free weights were laid out on the floor in front of a wall-mounted 52-inch flatscreen. Jackie quickly returned the weights to a rack on the side, near one of the large sunlit windows, then moved the couch to its original position. She might have found that red to be gaudy in another setting, but it fit with the polished hardwood floors, the handful of patterned rugs, the marble countertops, and authentic wooden cabinetry. There was a certain vibrancy to the place she admired.
“Let me throw on a shirt,” Jackie said. “You don’t mind if I’m in sweats, do you?”
“It’s your apartment,” she said.
“Bottle opener’s by the sink,” he said, “if you want to crack one of those open.” He gestured to the bag in her hand.
“Don’t mind if I do,” she said. She made her way to the kitchen, watching him. Ogling him, if she was being honest. He looked as good from behind as he did from the front. A light sheen of sweat made the muscles of his broad back and shoulders glisten. His pants clung, showing off the sculpted shape of his . . .
What was wrong with her? Well, maybe it was a modern woman’s right to objectify men. Whatever you have to tell yourself to justify staring at his ass.
Kay pulled open the stainless steel refrigerator and stuck the pinot inside. The bottle opener sat by one of the two sinks set side-by-side on an island in the middle of the kitchen area. She had never understood why anyone needed two sinks. She opened up the merlot, then set to looking for wine glasses. She hadn’t been here often enough to memorize the cabinets. She was certain it was the top one to the left of the fridge, or to the right, or perhaps the one above the refrigerator, that had to be it . . .
“Wine glasses? Two cabinets over to the right.”
Kay glanced back to see Jackie crossing the living room, wearing a maroon V-neck shirt. She retrieved two glasses from the proper cabinet, then poured wine for each of them. “Cheers,” she said. She hoisted a glass.
He followed suit. “What are we toasting?”
“I talked to my first shirt today,” she said, “about Officer Candidate School. I’ve been doing the enlisted thing for so long, and I decided . . . it’s just not enough for me. I want more.”
“What’d he say?” Jackie asked.
“Gee, I dunno,” she said. “I brought two bottles of wine. What do you think?”
Jackie chuckled. “Right. Well, congratulations.” He clinked his glass against hers. “For the record, I think you’ll make a great officer.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It isn’t for sure I’ll get a commission. Not yet, anyway. Have to jump through some hoops. It’ll take a little longer than usual.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked.
“Because your military’s being a bunch of assholes. What else is new?”
He grinned. “Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t have anything to do with that. I’ve got nothing wrong with you people.”
“Oh, so Orionans are ‘you people’ now, are they?” she asked.
“You realize you’re saying that to a black guy,” he quipped.
She burst into embarrassed laughter. “Sorry.”
“Totally cool,” he said. He smiled. “We gonna drink this bottle, or what?”
They sat for a minute, sipping their wine. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, not exactly, but Kay had a lot on her mind.
There was so much she wanted to ask Jackie. Nyne had always been an open book, but that had taken the mystery out of their relationship. There’d been no sense of adventure. With Jackie, it was all mystery. She knew what he did, and who he worked for, but she didn’t know a thing about his personal life, family, or anything. And she hadn’t asked, because she hadn’t wanted to share her own stories.
If she could have, she would’ve shaken herself.
With Nyne she had always wanted less, and with Jackie, more. Why couldn’t she make up her mind? Was she somehow unable to be happy in a relationship?
And wait a damn minute!
When had whatever it was she had with Jackie become a relationship to her? They hadn’t kissed, had barely touched . . . but she saw the way he looked at her. And she was certain he noticed how she looked at him. Why hadn’t he made a move? Was he playing the long game to get into her pants? Was his attraction to her actually a figment of her imagination? Was there something wrong with her, and he was just taking pity, or . . . ?
Oh, God, what if he were gay? Could she have misread the situation that badly? Surely if he was interested, he would’ve made a move by now!
“Something interesting going on in that glass?” Jackie asked.
“Just a little cork,” she said. She took a sip. How stupid she must have looked, staring into her wine! She felt her face heat.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked. “It must be big, because knowing you, you’d usually just come out and say it.”
“What’s going on here?” she blurted out. “Between us. Inquiring minds want to know.”
His eyebrows shot up. He looked down at his own glass, swirled the contents, then drained it in one go.
That didn’t bode well.
Kay made herself stay silent, resisting an urge to drum her fingers on the countertop. Thoughts whirled through her head like bees in a jar.
Jackie poured himself another glass. Finally, he said, “You’re a cool girl, Kay. I like hanging out with you.”
“You like hanging out with me,” she repeated. “I’m a cool girl.” An icy calm settled over her, hiding the sudden anger within. “I’m over thirty, I’m a sergeant in the military, and you think I’m some cool girl to hang out with? Holy shit.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.
“What did you mean it like?” she demanded. “Are you saying I’m immature, or just not enough of a woman for you?”
“Neither,” he said.
“Listen—”
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “One of the most beautiful women I’ve met. Sharp as a tack. Wicked sense of humor. Great taste in movies doesn’t hurt.”
“Do you want me or not?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said, without a hint of equivocation.
“Then why . . . ?”
“You told me you didn’t want a relationship,” he said. “And you talk about your ex, this captain guy, all the time. Saying how different I am. Sounds to me like you wish I were him.”
Her eyes widened. Was that true? Did she talk about Nyne that much?
Yes, she did, she realized. And in her mind, she was constantly comparing the two. Every judgment she’d made about Jackie had been through the lens of how he stacked up against Nyne. How could she possibly have convinced herself she was starting to get over him?
She’d been lying to herself the entire time!
She covered her face with her ha
nds. She could feel the blush spreading over every inch of her now—both embarrassment and, inexplicably, arousal. The cards were on the table. She wanted him, and he wanted her. It was as simple as that.
“And I won’t be somebody else,” Jackie was saying.
She lowered her hands. “I don’t want you to be,” she said. If she was really going to get over Nyne, she had to take a step forward. She had to do something significant, to prove to herself that she was ready to move on.
She reached across the countertop, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him to her.
His mouth met hers in a rush, hot, tasting of wine.
And Kay realized this was all she had wanted since the moment she walked in the door.
23
AARON
When Aaron recovered from the shock of learning about psionic powers, he took to them like he’d once taken to tilling the fields. Even Tiberian was impressed. Soon Aaron could lift objects, move at incredible speeds, make fire, and so much more. He knew he was supposed to learn to destroy, to become a weapon, but to him his powers represented creation and joy.
Tiberian also began to educate Aaron in martial arts, with middling success. Hard work resulted in some improvement, but Aaron had no natural talent. Tiberian assured Aaron that not everything would come as easily as the use of his abilities.
Aaron had no more strange dreams. He heard no more of the voice in his head. He still wasn’t ready to accept that it had been anything more than stress. Otherwise, he would have to admit that perhaps he needed some kind of psychological help. He didn’t tell Tiberian about any of it for that very reason. He feared he would be sent to a shrink and put on medication.
Aaron’s father had never trusted doctors. While Aaron disagreed with any number of his father’s beliefs, the one about physicians had left an impression on him—mostly due to a traumatic trip to the pediatrician as a child, when he’d had a severe reaction to an antibiotic. Since then, Aaron had been more than willing to accept his father’s conclusion about doctors.