by R S Penney
Covering his gaping mouth with one hand, Jack felt his eyes widen. “That was the experiment, wasn't it?” he said into his own palm. “You were only there to provide her with sparring partner.”
Silence was all the answer he needed.
Jack stood.
He marched across the room and watched Raynar back up until he was pressed to the wall. The kid looked as though he might scream. “Summer,” Jack said. “Don't fight him. Let him read my mind.”
His Nassai expressed worry.
“It's okay, Summer,” he whispered. “I trust him.”
Raynar looked up at him with hard gray eyes, blinking slowly. The first thing Jack felt was an odd sense of emotional pressure, a kind of tension that he couldn't quite put a name to. Then it happened.
Memories flashed in his mind – images, sensations, emotions – all blended together in a whirlpool of thought and feeling. His relationship with his parents, his love for Anna, his doubts about whether or not he was fit to be a Keeper: they were all there, flowing to the surface like water kicked up by a tropical storm.
It was over in a moment.
Jack shut his eyes, turning his face away from the boy. He let out a soft, shuddering breath. “Well, that was…invigorating,” he whispered. “Does it give you some perspective on who you're dealing with?”
Raynar stood with a hand pressed to his forehead, massaging away what appeared to be a headache. “It's all true,” he whispered. “You really believe that your people are going to help me.”
“I do.”
“So…What now?”
“Well, now we get you out of these quarters for a little bit,” Jack answered. “Come on. There's someone I want you to meet.”
The wireframe outline of a sphere floated above her hospital bed, coloured orange above the equator and blue below it. However, the orange was beginning to encroach on her territory with several bars in the lattice changing colour. Melissa lifted a hand, and with a flick of the wrist, turned the globe so that she could see it from other angles.
She sat cross-legged on the mattress, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a red t-shirt. Her hair was done up in a bun, and she very much wished she could have some lipstick and eye-liner. Or at least some concealer.
The sphere wobbled.
The cramped, windowless room they had given her was just large enough for two or three people to occupy the space around her bed. Medical instruments would beep or chirp every now and then – the screen on her left displayed her vitals; she knew that much – but for the most part she was left in silence.
Melissa squinted, shaking her head ever so slowly. “You're not going to get me this time,” she said, spinning the globe to see a place where orange bars had made it almost all the way down to the South Pole.
She tapped one.
It turned blue along with the three above it, creating a vertical line back up to the equator. The horizontal bars remained orange, however. Apparently you could only cause a cascade in one direction. Well…maybe. In truth, she wasn't entirely clear on the rules of this Leyrian game.
The computer made its move, changing one of the horizontal bars from blue to orange…and the two vertical bars on either side! Well, so much for that theory! She was going to have to learn the rules for-
The door chime interrupted her thoughts.
Closing her eyes, Melissa brushed strands of hair out of her face. “Oh thank god,” she said, swinging her legs around the side of the bed. “Computer, save game and then discontinue. Come in!”
The doors slid open to reveal Jack standing on the other side in gray jeans and a black sweater. “Hey, kid,” he said, stepping into her room. “Thought you might like a bit of company.”
Melissa looked up with a pleased grin. “Hey!” she said, eyebrows rising. “What are you doing here? With all the commotion, I didn't think you'd have time to visit your dumb teenage friend.”
Jack smiled, bowing his head to her. “You're not dumb,” he said, approaching the foot of her bed. “Everybody makes those kinds of mistakes at some point. At least you didn't spend your teenage years slacking off.”
“Point taken.”
With a flourish of his hand, he turned to gesture toward the door. “There's someone I want you to meet,” he said, waving for the newcomer to follow. “Zinvaskar tay, Raynar. Nokomar ta ciana ar vaskanas te ooskada.”
A young man stepped into the opening.
Tall and skinny, he was handsome with a boyish face. Melissa would have expected a smile or something – boys usually lit up when they saw a pretty girl – but this one barely even glanced in her direction. In fact, he looked a little frightened. “Melissa,” Jack said. “This is Raynar. Raynar, ciana tay Melisssa.”
“No English, huh?”
“Not yet.”
The young man went red as if he knew what she had just said. At first she wanted to reassure him that it was all right – this would give her an opportunity to learn his language – but she lacked the words. “So how exactly are we supposed to talk to one another?”
“Vana cianar,” Jack said.
Raynar looked up at her, and she had the strange sensation of being drawn into his eyes. It was like a pressure on her mind. Gentle, but firm. When the initial shock passed, she realized that it was a request. He was asking permission. “Go ahead,” she murmured.
Nothing happened, of course. She suspected that even if the boy understood what she meant, more was required on her part. She had to let down her defenses or something along those lines. How to do that? Did she just decide that she was willing to-
The connection came before she was ready for it, but the sensation was pleasant if a little surprising. Warm emotions filled her thoughts, a sense of calm and tranquility. She was expecting him to search through her memories, but instead the opposite happened. He conveyed thoughts to her.
Covering her mouth with three fingers, Melissa felt her eyes widen. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, backing up across the mattress. “Can you…I mean, have you always been able to do that?”
The answer came as a thought.
He was born this way.
She forced herself to recall the melody to that old Lady Gaga song, playing the tune in her mind. That had an effect. Raynar started laughing, shaking his head as if he found her silliness exasperating but endearing at the same time. And he did! She felt it!
Jack stood off to the side with his arms crossed, smiling down at the floor. “Seems you two are getting along,” he said. “We just rescued Raynar from a prison cell. Maybe you could keep him company.”
Melissa turned her head to stare at him, arching an eyebrow. “A prison cell?” she asked. “Tell me he's not a convict or some kind of…I don't know…space con-artist with telepathic powers.”
The answer came from Raynar.
He showed her snippets of his life, flashes of his parent's faces. The community where he had grown up. Shockingly, it wasn't all that different from the neighbourhood where her father lived.
Then she saw the image of men in black tactical gear standing outside what looked like a car and gesturing toward her. Or rather, gesturing toward Raynar. His mother put her hand on his back and hurried him along…
The image changed to the confines of a small cell with drab gray walls and a single cot for him to sleep on. There was a sense of claustrophobia, a need to free himself. But worst of all was the boredom. Day in, day out with nothing to do but wait.
He let the image fade.
“They just gave you away?” Melissa whimpered. “Your parents didn't even put up a fight?”
When she looked up, Raynar was watching her with those big gray eyes, blinking slowly as though he didn't understand the question. The answer came in brief flashes of thought and emotion. This was how his society operated.
Melissa felt her face redden, hot tears dripping from her chin. “That's disgusting,” she whispered. “I'm sorry. I know it's wrong for me to sit in judgment of another culture, but th
at's disgusting.”
Raynar agreed.
A glance over her shoulder revealed Jack leaning against the wall with hands in his pockets, his head turned so that she only saw his cheek. Apparently he didn't want to let his emotions show either. “You knew about this?” she asked.
Jack nodded.
“That's why you got him out?”
“Yes.”
They were interrupted by the sound of the doors sliding open, and then her father stepped into the room. He took one look at Raynar and scowled. “And who is this?”
“One of the telepaths we rescued.”
Harry's eyes flared until it seemed as though they might fall out. “And you brought him here?” he spluttered. “I can't believe you'd be so reckless.”
Jack paled, but – to his credit – he managed to keep a smooth expression. “Raynar is harmless, Harry,” he insisted. “He and Melissa are about the same age, and I figured he could use a friend.”
“So you just decided to involve my daughter?”
“Hey!”
Her voice cracked with such ferocity that even Melissa was surprised to hear it. Best not to lose the momentum, however. She hopped off the bed and drew herself up to stand in front of her father.
Melissa squinted. “You have no right to judge,” she said, shaking her head. “Jack's right about him. This young man has lived through an enormous amount of pain, and he needs a friend right now.”
“I suppose you've decided to be that friend.” Harry said. “Has it occurred to you that maybe he showed you what he wants you to see?”
Raynar stood there with his lips pressed together, sweat glistening on his pale face. Right then, he reminded Melissa of nearly every boy she had ever brought home. This was no time for the overprotective father routine.
Melissa sat on the edge of the bed with her hands on her knees, staring into her lap. “It's possible…” she said with a nod. “It's also possible he's been traumatized by his experiences.”
“You're not a psychologist.”
“No, I'm not.” She looked up at him with butterflies in her stomach, amazed by the steadiness in her voice. “But I'm willing to help someone in need even if it means I could get hurt in the process. Now, do you want to argue about it?”
Her father blew out a sigh of exasperation, turning away from her. He covered his face with one hand. “You've been discharged,” he muttered. “Get your stuff. It's time for us to go home.”
Chapter 17
Fat snowflakes descended from the overcast sky, falling on the slanted roof of a house with yellow aluminum siding. It was chilly but crisp, as afternoon gave way to an early evening.
Anna turned her face up to the sky. She stuck out her tongue, a single snowflake landing on it and melting in an instant. “This should be fun,” she said. “We don't really have a holiday quite like this back home.”
Jack stood at her side with hands shoved into the pockets of his thick black coat, keeping his head down. “I'm glad you're looking forward to it,” he muttered. “Blatant consumerism and awkward conversation awaits!”
Cocking her head to one side, Anna studied him with pursed lips. “Seriously?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “We're not even in the front door, and you're already starting with the doom and gloom?”
He went red, then bowed his head to her. “You're right,” he said, taking a step back. “No more doom and gloom. For the rest of the evening, I shall endeavour to maintain my cheerful disposition.”
“That's all I ask.”
Jack started up the driveway with his shoulders hunched up, muttering under his breath. Perhaps it was rude of her to insist that he put on a smile – she very much doubted that she would be so eager if it was Alia behind that door – but she had come here for his benefit. This had not been her idea.
Closing her eyes, Anna tilted her head back. Patience, Lenai, she thought, stifling the shiver that ran down her spine. Your friend isn't the only one who feels a little nervous around his family.
The porch was a small box surrounded by an ornate metal railing. Small lights over the mailbox cast a warm glow out on the wall. As she took in the sight, Anna decided that she could easily see Jack growing up in this house. There was a kind of homey charm to everything.
A large green door with a frosted window looked in on a hallway where shadowy figures stood talking. She could hear voices raised in conversation and music similar to those songs they had played in the mall.
Jack knocked.
A moment later, the door swung inward to reveal an older woman in gray pants and a thick purple sweater, a woman who wore her honey-coloured hair loose. “Jack! I didn't think you'd make it.” She turned her head slowly, blinking. “And you must be Anna. I've heard so much about you.”
Grinning sheepishly, Anna lowered her eyes. “So, it seems my reputation precedes me,” she said. “And if I had to take a guess, I'd say you must be Jack's mother Crystal.”
“Got it in one.”
Crystal stepped out onto the porch, taking Anna's hands. The warm grin on her face was genuine; this woman had been looking forward to this moment. “I'm really glad you decided to come.”
“Thanks for the invite.”
“I'm sorry, what was your Nassai's name again?”
“His name is Seth.” Her words came out as a barely audible mumble. The question left her feeling a little off-balance. Most people conveniently forgot that a Keeper's body was home to a fully-formed alien intelligence that remembered everything it saw with perfect clarity. This was especially true among Earthers.
She had expected pleasant smiles and friendly conversation, but not this. Though it shamed her to admit it, she had honestly worried that she might be seen as an unwelcome intruder: the woman who had taken their youngest son and whisked him away to a life of danger and loneliness. If Crystal Hunter felt any of these things, she did a remarkable job of hiding it.
The foyer opened into a narrow hallway where two men stood talking, each holding a mug of steaming liquid in one hand. There were children as well: boys and girls who couldn't be more than twelve or thirteen chasing each other up the stairs.
Crystal led them down the hallway, making conversation the whole way, asking about what it was like to fly a shuttle or to see a nebula up close. Anna had to remind herself that many of the things she took for granted were still new to these people.
A door on her left led to the family room.
Two couches on opposite walls faced each other with the wide open space between covered by carpets. A large television under a window that looked out upon the backyard displayed the image of kids skating on a frozen pond.
An older man who sat on one of the couches got up when he saw her. Tall and well-muscled, he had a pale face with a dark beard that was slowly turning gray. “You must be the Justice Keeper.”
“Yes,” she said. “My name-”
“Excuse me.” The man stormed right past her, nearly pushing her out of the way as he left the room. Well, there was the frigid response she had been expecting. It was good to know her pessimism wasn't entirely unfounded.
Anna turned to Jack.
She looked up at him with a tight frown, blinking in confusion. “Was it something I said?” she wondered aloud. “Do you think it'd be better if I just kept a low profile for the rest of the evening?”
“Don't pay attention to him,” Jack said, backing up until he was pressed to the wall. “Dad's got some firm opinions on just about everything, and they're almost always wrong.”
Not a good start.
She took a seat on the couch and waited quietly while Jack made the appropriate smalltalk with his family. At one point, an older woman in a black skirt and red sweater came in and sat across from her.
By the look of her, she was one of Jack's aunts on his father's side. Her thin face was marked by a few light creases, and her brown hair was done up in a clip. “So, are you the one I've heard about?”
Red-cheeked, Anna shut her eye
s and nodded. “I'm gonna go out on a limb and say yes,” she answered. “My name is Anna Lenai. I met Jack three and a half years ago when he helped me recover the symbiont he now carries.”
The woman studied her with pursed lips, slowly arching an eyebrow. “That's quite the story,” she said. “Just five short years ago, it would have sounded like something out of a Terry Pratchett novel.”
Anna very much doubted that. She had made it a point to read some of this world's literature, and Terry Pratchett specialized in some delightful whimsical fantasy. Still, she had no intention of arguing the point.
Crystal stepped into the room with a piping-hot cup of tea on a small saucer. “I hope you don't mind,” she said, offering the mug to Anna. “Jack told me how you take your tea, and I thought I'd be hospitable.”
Everyone seemed determined to make her the centre of attention. “Thank you kindly,” she said with as much exuberance as she could manage. “I can see where Jack gets his good manners.”
Crystal chuckled.
The woman on the opposite couch was laughing as well, huddling in on herself as she wheezed. “Jack is well-mannered?” she muttered. “That kid will stir up controversy at every opportunity?”
Thrusting her chin out, Anna narrowed her eyes. “And just what kind of manners are those?” she asked, shaking her head. “Maybe I'm blinded by Leyrian customs, but I thought most people preferred not to insult their family members in front of guests.”
Covering her mouth with one hand, Crystal shut her eyes and trembled with soft laughter. “She's got you there, Madeline.” Anna very nearly breathed out a sigh of relief. Companion be praised; she had an ally. “I can see why Jack likes her.”
Madeline leaned back with her arms crossed, turning her face up to the ceiling. “I didn't mean anything by it,” she said. “The boy has a very strong sense of himself, and he's not afraid to show it.”
Very true.
That was one of the reasons Anna considered him to be her best friend. She could always get the truth from Jack, even when he was sure she wouldn't like hearing it. She was beginning to think he had learned that from his mother.