by R S Penney
Anna felt her face heat up. Shutting her eyes, she nodded to him. “Yes, I have,” she answered. “In fact, I see him almost every day. We've been working together ever since I came back here.”
Her father was smiling into his glass, shaking his head with amused laughter. “So maybe the two of you can pick up where you left off,” he said. “It'd be nice to know that both of my daughters had someone.”
“That's a little compli-”
She froze when she realized the implications of what her father had just said. The last time she had talked to her sister, there had been no major news, but that was what? A year ago. “Alia has someone?”
Beran turned around and set his glass down on the table in front of the couch. He straightened and took a deep breath. “A fiancé,” he answered. “Arin proposed just last week. I assumed you knew.”
He faced her with a sheepish grin, his cheeks growing redder by the second. “I assumed your mother would call you,” he said. “But then, you have been out of touch lately.”
“Mom and I don't talk much.”
“A condition you should remedy.”
Anna stood.
She crossed her arms with a heavy sigh, then bowed her head to him. “I don't know, Dad,” she whispered. “Sometimes I think Mom would be a lot happier if I chose to stay out on the Fringe.”
She strode past him to the far wall where the wine bottle sat upon its little wooden table. There were other knickknacks as well, several pewter figurines and a single picture in an ornate frame.
When she picked it up in one hand, she found herself transfixed by the image. The photograph displayed her father and mother sitting side by side on a park bench with their arms wrapped around their daughters. Anna sat in her father's lap, and Alia in her mother's. That was how it had always been.
The Lenai family had always been split right down the middle, with Anna and her father pursuing careers that took them to the far corners of the galaxy while Alia and her mother remained content to stay in a medium-sized town on Entarel's western coastline. The day she had returned home with a symbiont residing in her body had been one of the worst she had ever experienced.
Her mother had thrown a fit, practically screaming that Anna had betrayed their family. Sierin Lenai liked Justice Keepers just fine, but she didn't want one of her kids signing up to join them. Anna had such a promising future as a painter; why would she throw it all away just to end up dead from a gunshot wound?
Anna shut her eyes, a lone tear gliding over her cheek. “You always had a way with words, Mom,” she whispered, shaking her head. “And yet you still wonder why I always put off that trip home.”
She turned.
Her father stood with hands folded over his middle, head hanging as though he'd heard everything she just said. “I take it you won't be calling home,” he inquired. “Well, Sooner or later you will have to make an effort.”
“So I can listen to one of Alia's lectures?”
Anna loved her sister, but the woman had a tendency to take their mother's side on everything. Somehow, every long, drawn-out discussion left her feeling ganged up on. “I think I'll send a card,” she muttered. “It'd be easier.”
“As you wish.”
“Look, Dad, can we table this discussion for now?” she pleaded. “I haven't seen you in over a year; I'd like to catch up before we dive head-first into the family drama. Maybe we could get some dinner?”
“Sure,” he said. “But I think we should have a long talk when we get back.”
Lucky me.
Melissa sat hunched over the wooden desk in her bedroom with her elbow on its surface, her cheek resting against the knuckles of her closed fist. A pad of paper with notes that she had scrawled out in pencil was sitting untouched just three inches away. She was supposed to come up with a thesis for her essay on the Roaring Twenties, and right now, she was stumped.
When it came to schoolwork, she much preferred the technical subjects like math or computer science. History was just so damn boring. Maybe that was a consequence of living in a time where spaceships were a reality, but she was far more interested in what the future might hold than the past.
“You look frustrated.”
Melissa jumped.
A glance over her shoulder revealed Jena standing in the doorway with her shoulder pressed to the wooden frame, a sly little smile on her face. “Sorry,” she said, giving her head a shake. “I didn't mean to startle you.”
Melissa slouched down in her chair with arms folded, throwing her head back. “It's okay,” she said softly. “So is this the part where Dad sends you up here to bond with me girl to girl?”
“You're quick.”
“I watch a lot of TV.”
Maybe this should have left her feeling awkward – she couldn't imagine herself opening up to her father's new girlfriend – but at the moment, the only thing she could think about was the fact that an alien was standing in her bedroom. Well, not an alien alien, but a woman who hadn't been born on Earth.
Chewing on the end of a pencil, Melissa shut her eyes. “Look, Jena, I really would like to get to know you,” she mumbled. “But at the moment, I'm a little swamped.”
She tried to focus on the half-finished essay notes, but the other woman's presence was like a mild tingle between her shoulder blades. “All right,” Jena said. “How 'bout we reschedule for another time.”
Point one in Jena's favour: she knew not to push. That left Melissa feeling a little unsettled, and also a little guilty. This would have been much easier if her father's new girlfriend were an overbearing jerk. “Wait,” she said.
Jena froze with her back turned just outside the door. “Something wrong, kid?” she asked, venturing a glance over her shoulder. “I don't want to bother you if you're working on something important.”
Melissa buried her face in both hands, then slowly slid them apart to peek through the crack. “I could use a break,” she said, sliding her chair back from the desk. “The truth is I'm getting nowhere.”
She got up.
When she turned around, Jena stood there with hands clasped in front of herself, her head bowed almost reverently. “So this is the part where we girl talk?” she asked. “I would offer to let you braid my hair, but as you can see…”
Melissa felt her lips curl, her cheeks suddenly very warm. She pressed a fist to her nose and rubbed away an itch. “No. No hair braiding,” she agreed. “I was thinking that I could ask you a few questions.”
Jena sat on the edge of the bed with her hands on her knees, a look of concentration on her face. “What would you like to know?” she asked. “I'll answer anything except the really intimate stuff.”
“What's it like to bond a symbiont?”
“Most of the time you don't even notice it's there,” Jena replied. “The Nassai prefer to be observers rather than participants. Sometimes my symbiont shares its emotions with me, but for the most part it stays quiet.”
Melissa thought it over. “You called your symbiont 'it.'” she said, approaching the foot of the bed. “Jack refers to his Nassai as a 'she.' In fact, she has a name.”
“That's… an anomaly,” Jena muttered. “Even I will admit that Jack's a bit of an odd duck.”
“I think it's a good idea.”
The other woman looked up at her with curiosity in those big brown eyes, blinking slowly. “Do you?” Jena asked. “The Nassai have no sense of individuality, Melissa. What use would one have for a name?”
“For one thing, it would make them feel welcome,” Melissa countered. “And think about what you just said. What use would one have for a name? If the Nassai truly have no concept of individuality, then there can't be one.”
Her words seemed to have had an effect, and for a moment, she wondered if she might have gone too far. But instead of the lecture she more than half expected, Jena just sat on the bed with a puzzled expression. “Interesting,” the woman said. “I guess I didn't really consider that.”
Me
lissa crossed her arms as she backed up to the wall, struggling to keep her face smooth. “There is one other thing I'd like to know…” she said, her brow furrowing. “Do you think I could ever be a Keeper?”
She prepared herself for a disappointing answer – or worse, for a long silence while Jena sized her up – but that wasn't what she got. “You could join the initiate program next year,” Jena said. “You'll be old enough then. Nearly one hundred Earthers have joined our ranks in the last three years; I don't see why you couldn't be one.
“You'd have to meet with a Nassai though; if you know anything about the bonding process, then you'll know that Jack's experience was fairly atypical. In most cases, they bring you into contact with a symbiont under controlled circumstances. The two of you exchange thoughts, and if there's compatibility, you bond.”
Well…that was something to consider.
Jena studied her with that hard-eyed Detective stare she had seen her father use far too many times. “Melissa,” she began. “Does your father know you want to be a Justice Keeper? I think you should talk to him before you sign up for the program.”
A frown tugged at the corners of Melissa's mouth, and she had to fight down a burst of anxiety. “I will,” she said. Of course, she wasn't sure what she would do if her father objected; Melissa hated conflict. She and Harry had had their share of fights – some were downright ferocious – but she preferred to avoid them whenever possible. Which was not to say that she wouldn't stand her ground when push came to shove. Even people who despised conflict could be stubborn. “But one way or another. I will be joining the program.”
“Well then,” Jena said. “Seems I can retire after all.”
Chapter 4
Shiny chrome pillars that rose from floor to ceiling marked the perimeter of the Starlight Café, fencing in a few dozen tables that were spaced out on the black-tiled floor. Most were unoccupied at this hour of the day.
Jack sat at the bar in gray jeans and a black polo shirt, scanning the contents of a tablet. More fan mail, he noted as he scrolled through the latest offerings. Almost three months later, and it still comes in.
The text that scrolled over his screen told the story of a man who felt safer now that Leo was no longer a threat. He went on to say that he'd always been a supporter of strong diplomatic ties between Earth and Leyria, and that this proves once and for all that Earth is a safer place thanks to the Keeper presence.
Not all of it was fan mail of course. There were several requests for interviews – he turned down anything that involved him sitting in front of a camera – and a whole host of people who wanted to turn his story into the latest bestseller. Not that he even bothered to reply to those. Fame was not something that any Keeper should aspire to.
Chewing on his lip, Jack squinted down at the tablet. “This is nuts,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Can't you people just go back to debating whether or not Holly Bop's nude selfies are real?”
“Agent Hunter?”
He turned on his stool.
Gabrina Valtez stood before him in black pants and a red top with a hem that fell halfway down her thighs, its square neckline revealing a hint of cleavage. She was a lovely woman with a full figure and long black hair that framed a pretty face. “I see you've taken up talking to yourself.”
Jack smiled, shutting his eyes tight. He wheezed with a burst of soft laughter. “Sometimes, it's the only thing that keeps me sane,” he said. “You'll have to forgive me, Agent Valtez. I'm not used to the attention.”
Gabrina took the stool next to him, folding her hands in her lap. The warm smile on her face made him feel strangely at ease. “I was hoping we could sit down and talk for a few minutes.”
“Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?”
Gabrina frowned, her face turning several shades of crimson. “Not at all,” she said softly. “Maybe I should clarify. You didn't do anything that made me uncomfortable, Jack. I was worried that I might give you the wrong idea.”
“You've been nothing but professional, Agent Valtez,” he said. “Trust me; I'm not the kind of guy who thinks that every interaction with a woman is going to lead to sex.”
She swiveled on her stool to face the counter, setting her elbows on its surface and lacing her fingers. “No indeed,” she said. “But I'm a shameless flirt, and I have to admit, I'm a little attracted to you.”
Huh?
Jack shut his eyes tight, unable to believe what he was hearing. He touched fingers to his temples. “You sure you don't need your eyes checked?” he mumbled. “Because, you know, the Keepers have this great medical plan.”
The joke that should have defused this situation suddenly felt hollow. Once again, he wished that he could learn the vital skill of thinking before he spoke. “And I insulted you,” he muttered. “I'm sorry.”
Gabrina sat doubled over with her arms crossed, trembling with laughter. “No,” she said softly. “I'm aware of your propensity for self-deprecating humor. Though I probably should point out that there are several women who would agree with me.”
Grinning like a fool, Jack lowered his eyes. He tried to ignore the warmth in his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “But you and me…What do you say we keep things simple? Friends?”
“Friends.”
“Good.”
That would make things easier; though, if he was honest with himself, Jack would have to admit that he was a little bit attracted to her as well. Still, neither of them wanted to pursue it, so…
Jack tapped a button on the counter, summoning a hologram. The transparent image of a man in simple black clothing appeared behind the bar and offered to take his order. “Tea,” Jack said. “Two milks, no sugar.”
The hologram vanished.
A moment later, two panels in the counter slid apart, allowing a steaming cup to rise on a platform. Jack took it in one hand, pausing for one brief moment to savour the sweet aroma.
He brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip. As tea went, this stuff was actually pretty good. “Let me ask you something,” he began. “Do Leyrians give Keepers as many accolades as the people here do?”
Gabi stared off into space with her lips pressed together, clearly taken aback by the question. “No,” she answered after a moment. “But you have to remember that this is all new for your people. The novelty hasn't worn off.”
“Great.”
“This troubles you.”
As he blew on the surface of his tea, sending ripples through the pale liquid, Jack considered his response. When he took this position, he expected a certain amount of…notoriety – he was the first Keeper from Earth, after all – but he wasn't expecting a steady stream of media requests. “Too much attention can go to a man's head,” he replied. “Keepers should be humble.”
A light touch on the arm made him look into those big brown eyes of hers. “You've given statements to the media before,” she said. “As I recall, you've spoken with a young reporter several times now.”
Jack squeezed his eyes shut, trembling as a shiver went through him. “Yeah, I did,” he said, leaning over the counter. “But I'm starting to think it might be a good idea to put an end to that.”
“Why?”
He went red again, hiding his face in his hand. “Well, Gabs, this may be a little unprofessional…” Jack began. “But I think I might be starting to develop a little crush on her.”
Gabi offered a warm smile, bowing her head to stare into her lap. “Is that all?” she murmured with amusement in her voice. “I don't suppose you've considered anything as breathtakingly rational as telling her how you feel.”
Turning his face up to the ceiling, Jack narrowed his eyes. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I'd prefer to fly an unarmoured shuttle into a fleet of Antauran assault frigates. Because if I'm getting shot down, I want a huge fireball.”
“It's been my experience,” Gabi cut in, “that most young men have no ability to tell if a woman likes them. And they generally
come in one of two varieties: those who insist on seeing romantic potential where none exists and those who refuse to acknowledge any such thing even when a woman holds up a giant neon sign. You, my friend, are definitely one of the latter.”
A long hallway stretched through the bowels of Station Six, curving slightly as it followed the path of a circle. Bright lights in the ceiling were meant to simulate sunlight – to keep people happy and healthy even in space – but the only thing they did was make the gray walls look a little less sterile.
Jack lifted his chin, squinting as he stared down the hallway. “Well…Here we go again,” he said, starting forward. “And once again, I come down here because I'm such a glutton for punishment.”
He approached a set of double doors.
They opened to reveal a room that looked very much like the reception area of your average doctor's office, complete with a curving desk of sparkling Smartglass and a few potted plants along the wall. This was not what he would have expected from what was essentially a cell block, but Leyrians did things in their own way.
Nurse Kari Tenar was stooped over the desk with her back turned. A tall woman in blue scrubs, she wore her dark hair tied up in a ponytail. “Hello, Agent Hunter,” she said without looking. “How are you?”
“You know that's a little disturbing.”
Kari spun around to face him with a big smile on her tanned face, strands of brown hair falling over her eyes. “You're the only one who comes to visit him,” she said. “I hope you aren't expecting him to be any more cooperative than he usually is.”
He felt his face crumple, then shook his head with enough force to make himself dizzy. “I don't expect anything of the sort,” he muttered. “But I figure I have to try, and today's as good a day as any.”
She nodded.
Double doors in the back wall slid apart to grant him access to the kind of room you might expect to find in a double-blind psychology study. There was a small table positioned under a window that looked in on what appeared to be a modest but tastefully decorated bachelor apartment.