by Lee Winter
Nyah ran her hand over the textured surface of the granite, and admitted a truth. She always, always, did the safe thing. The logical thing. The scientist thing. She always had. When it came to her personal life, she never did anything crazy or spontaneous or what felt good in the moment. Her hand warmed under the heat of the early morning sun on the rock.
Lena was so different. She was terrified of trust, but still she took huge risks. She had kissed her. Nyah had gone to bed that night and had spent hours listening to the gentle snores from the sleeping bag near the fire, thinking of all the ways she wasn’t brave. All the times when logic won. Why did she always hold back? Even as a child she’d chosen the cleanest path through life, without ties or attachments that would get in the way of her work or duty.
Isabella had been the rare exception, not the rule.
Nyah’s drought in the bedroom had stretched to more than a decade before Lena’s arrival. And when Lena had kissed her sloppily and hopefully that first time, desire shining in her eyes, her plea so simple—a shared night without strings attached—her heart had begun hammering at the thought of what it might feel like to just say yes.
The next day Lena had blamed alcohol for their first kiss, but Nyah had seen the truth in her eyes. She probably would have done it anyway.
So brave.
Later, Nyah had taken her own leap of faith. She’d been right. Lena was irresistible. Not just for her brazenness and spark, but for her flaws too. So many of Lena’s vulnerabilities she’d recognized in herself. A pair of cracked mirrors, side by side. Not quite showing the same reflection, but if you tilted your head just so, their broken souls had a similar shimmer. Nyah doubted anyone else could have done what Lena had, and so easily slid past her careful defenses. How had she done this? How had she made her question everything?
White crow, indeed.
She’d miss her. Nyah wasn’t even shocked to admit that. She ran her hands down her thighs and looked around impatiently.
Lena had been a balm when Nyah needed it. She’d been wallowing too long. Lucy’s death had shattered her into pieces. Maybe she never would entirely get over the little girl’s tragic end. Some days were harder than others. But today was not one of those days. Today she could see the pieces clearly in her mind, catalogue them, and she felt confident in her ability to face the world again. All it had taken was a curious, definitely-not-Earth-standard tracker, with probing blue eyes and a cocky grin that hid so much pain.
Nyah wondered if Lena would ever come to see herself as she did. Maybe she’d even let her walls down a crack to trust others, as she had with Nyah. They’d already said their goodbyes at dawn, with Lena refusing an offer to be flown to the outskirts of the airport.
“Not going to the airport,” Lena had said, voice teasing. “But meet me here at noon.” She’d pointed to a spot on her FacTrack’s map. Then she’d almost shyly kissed Nyah goodbye and given her a strained half hug. It was awkward enough for Nyah to lift her eyebrow.
“I’ve never done a goodbye before,” was all Lena would say. “Well, not with someone I give a tagshart about.”
“I’m honored,” Nyah had replied, amused.
“You should be.”
And that had been that. Lena had headed off, sliding over the edge of the cliff, and disappearing from sight.
A rumble in the distance made Nyah turn. A white SUV was making its way along the road toward her position. She could make out two figures inside, and rose, shielding her eyes to see who was coming.
The vehicle came to a dusty stop a few feet away, and Lena jumped out from the passenger seat, a ready grin on her face. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, and Nyah could see excitement in her eyes. Her gaze drifted to the driver. A tall woman in jeans and a long, cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves slid elegantly from the vehicle. She wore a scarf, and her complexion was so pale that her eyebrows were almost translucent.
Nyah was immediately wary, taking an involuntary step backwards. What on earth was Lena thinking? She knew Nyah didn’t like meeting others. And she certainly didn’t want to be near anyone who might recognize her and end her splendid isolation.
“Nyah!” Lena waved. “I’d like you to meet Dr. Anna Larsen. She’s the head botanist of the scientific research team on Homhil Plateau. When I explained your situation, she was dying to meet you.”
Nyah slowly faced Lena, her brows knitting together. “My situation?” she asked tightly.
“Yes,” Lena said, hesitating at her expression. “I explained you’re a retired botanist who misses hanging out with other botanists and talking shop.”
“Trading war stories,” Dr. Larsen inserted. “This is how I believe she put it. Although we have no wars, us botanists, beyond those fought out in science journals.” She offered her hand. “Always an honor to meet another colleague in our field.”
Nyah studied the hand in surprise. Commons never shook a guardian’s hand, so she was caught off guard by the gesture. She realized her hesitation was rude. Belatedly, Nyah reached out, connected, feeling the roughness of skin clearly used to being buried in soil and taking samples.
Her gaze slid back over to Lena, arching an eyebrow. The woman was practically vibrating on the spot with excitement. A second later came a blast of Lena’s emotional leakage. It was so powerful it rocked Nyah back on her heels. Okay, she was really excited to have done this for Nyah. Lena’s walls went back up a split second later, and Nyah found herself missing her uncensored exuberance.
Dr. Larsen was still waiting for a reaction. Oh. “Good to meet you,” Nyah said cautiously.
If the good doctor was offended by the less-than-effusive greeting, it didn’t show, and nor did Nyah sense it. Instead, she felt a steady thread of curiosity, refinement, and intelligence. Larsen’s mind was filled almost entirely with scientific questions.
“Tell me, Nyah, are you interested in endemism? For instance, that tree behind you—”
“Boswellia ameero,” Nyah said. “Yes, it’s native and unique to Socotra, and makes, or so I read, medium-quality chewing gum.”
“On the contrary, Nyah, it makes excellent chewing gum if you have the right scientist in your team. I must introduce you to Dr. Muller next.”
Next? When had a “next” been decided? She hadn’t even agreed to a “first.”
Dr. Larsen glanced to Lena and back. “Lena tells me you are in need of some work? I have a vacancy since one of my researchers had to rush home. It’s most inconvenient. But I do need some spare hands to gather samples. Right now I need some more Aloe squarrosa, but it is so rare, so hard to reach in the mountains. Is that something you might be willing to help us with? Are you good with heights?”
Lena abruptly turned away, but not before Nyah caught the laugh she was trying to suppress as Dr. Larsen waited for her answer.
“It depends how high,” Nyah said evenly. “But I’m not sure…”
“Good! Excellent! With my best researcher gone, I’m left with Dr. Lawrence, and he turns pale if he has to climb three feet. It’s not his fault. We all have our gifts, don’t you agree? Never mind, you’ll meet him soon enough, along with the rest.”
Nyah paused. Had she actually agreed to any of this?
Dr. Larsen finished her pitch. “I can’t pay much, but I promise mediocre food, except for the excellent chewing gum, of course, and a convivial atmosphere of intelligent minds. That is all we need, yes?”
Nyah exhaled. Her gaze slid back to Lena, feeling nothing but gratitude, even as she nodded to Larsen. This might be exactly what she needed.
Lena smiled broadly and shouldered her backpack, tightening the straps, preparing to leave.
“Excellent,” Dr. Larsen continued. “I can take you back to camp now, if that is acceptable? No time like the present, don’t they say?”
“Yes. All right. But could you excuse me a moment, Doctor?”
The scientist turned and wandered off to study the Boswellia ameero with a fascination that was pr
obably not merited. Although with botanists, who could say?
“Leaving so soon?” Nyah whispered in Lena’s ear.
“It’s time. This way it’s easier for both of us. You may have noticed, I do a lousy farewell.”
“I did notice. But this is unexpected.” She glanced pointedly at Larsen.
“Yeah, well, I thought you two would hit it off.”
“Lena,” Nyah said sincerely, “thank you.”
“Sure thing. Okay, since Dr. Larsen’s going the other way back to her camp, I’m gonna head to town on foot where I can hitch a ride to the airport. You should go with her, get to know her first without the whole team being there.”
Nyah didn’t speak, overwhelmed by the opportunity and by Lena, who had done this for her. Lena, who was leaving. Right now.
Lena studied her anxiously. “You are happy, right? You’re not mad with me? Cos I was really hoping you wouldn’t toss me into the Baltic Sea for presuming.”
“You need not unpack your life preserver,” Nyah said dryly. “I can see Dr. Larsen is certainly enthusiastic about her work. I believe I’d enjoy working with her.”
“So this is your excited-puppy face? You are glad, right? I mean, if you could have seen how you looked when you talked about missing science and not having colleagues to talk to.”
Nyah gave Lena her best po-faced look and shot another glance at Dr. Larsen. She’d wandered off even further. Then she smiled at Lena, hiding nothing, and pulled her into a tight hug. “You won’t believe me, of course, but for the record, you’re impressive.”
“Glad you think so,” Lena said and blushed as Nyah’s fingers stroked her cheek.
She studied Lena’s reddening skin with amusement before stepping back. It was time. She felt a flash of regret and loss.
“Hey,” Lena said brightly, “don’t worry about Talon Man. I’ll just say I couldn’t find you. He’ll have to suck it up without you for the ceremony.”
“About that,” Nyah said thoughtfully, “I think I may have a solution. There’s someone you should look up.”
“Oh?”
“Give me your FacTrack. I’ll enter the details. Time’s tight so call from the first place you can on the way home. Trust me.”
“I do.” Lena stared at her intently.
Nyah paused, then blinked. She wondered when the last time was Lena had said that to anyone—if ever. Nyah couldn’t think how to respond to that.
Lena didn’t seem to want a reply, and held out her FacTrack. “I think you had some info to enter?”
Nyah quickly tapped in the information and stepped back. “It’s been fun, Lena Martin.”
“That’s one word for it. A better word is life changing. Or mind blowing.”
“That’s two words. Four, if you want to get technical.”
“Hilarious.” Lena rolled her eyes.
They shared a smile. Lena stepped back a few feet, lifted her hand, turned, and strode off, calling out a farewell to Dr. Larsen as she passed her. Nyah watched her go until the botanist pivoted and headed back towards her.
“You know,” Dr. Larsen said conversationally, “if I’d known the Iblis demon was so interesting, I might have sought her out long ago.”
“Iblis? I don’t—”
“Please do not insult my considerable intelligence with a lie. It’s fine. I also won’t tell anyone you’re Shattergirl. But if you want to join my team, it might be best if you updated your wardrobe, yes? I have a change of clothes in my car that might fit you before we get to camp. We are about the same build and height.”
Nyah’s eyes flitted uncertainly to Lena’s silhouette, wondering just how much she had shared.
“She was the model of discretion,” Dr. Larsen said, catching the look. “But I do pay attention to the news feeds every once in a while, unlike the rest of my team who probably wouldn’t even be able to pick Talon Man out of a line-up. Besides, you are far too arresting to forget. Now come, I still need some Aloe suarrosa from that peak before dusk. And you are the best qualified for the job. This I know to be true.” She winked.
Nyah gave her an amused glance and didn’t disagree.
“I also suspect you have a few theories that might rock our world,” Dr. Larsen continued, walking back to her car. “I would love to hear your thoughts.”
The smile on Nyah’s face couldn’t have been dimmed by a nuclear winter.
CHAPTER 15
Lena was met off the plane from Socotra by the Facility’s impassive man-mountain security guard who offered her a lift into the city. Not that she had any say in it. She eyed the back of his rock-like head.
“Do I want to know?” she asked. “Why I’m here?” she clarified.
He didn’t reply, but when they stopped at lights, he turned and pointed to her FacTrack.
Lena got the hint and lifted her wrist, scrolling through her data uploads. Her eyes widened at the newest one. She turned to stare out the window as they pulled into the Grand Palace Complex, which was lined with thousands of queuing people.
Lena sat there, dazed, as security met her and held open her door. Receiving a backstage VIP pass to the most keenly awaited event in human history was shock enough. Seeing Talon Man’s personal signature authorizing it was an even bigger one. Why he had bothered with her, one tracker among a hundred of them, was beyond her, but she wasn’t going to protest. The Guardian Landfall Centenary Celebration was a once-in-a-lifetime event, regardless of how cynical she felt about the circus surrounding it.
She looked around the wings, as production managers and tech people rushed past, talking rapidly into earpieces, holding clipboards and body mics, wondering if any other trackers had been invited. Surely her boss? But Bruce Dutton was nowhere to be seen. She recognized no one.
The buzz was palpable, and not surprising given the event was broadcasting live on every news and web feed on the planet. She stepped back into the shadows as, one by one, the founders passed her and walked out on stage, waved, and took their seats in front of an enormous crowd. Large screens behind them played highlights of their heroic deeds. The ceremony was broadcast backstage on a sea of monitors.
When Shattergirl, in her sleek, trademark black uniform, sauntered past, Lena smirked, greatly pleased, then watched her join the rest of the guardians on stage.
After all fifty were on stage, a video package of their time on Earth began playing on the screens backed by a live orchestra. A 1,000-voice international children’s choir was unveiled on the far side of the stage. It was over-produced to hell—as befitting the Hollywood mega-producer behind it—but it ticked every emotional box. And judging by the wild roars of delight and claps, the crowd was lapping it up.
Lena watched the monitors showing the highlights. Fires put out. Crashed trains righted. Landslides thwarted. She spotted Shattergirl in that footage, and her heart almost seized as the guardian barely escaped being buried alive herself.
Then came the speeches, which included stars and world leaders offering congratulations, and archival footage of the founders’ first moments on Earth. Finally, the halftime entertainment started up and the guardians filed off stage for a break.
“Tracker Martin?”
She spun around at hearing a voice she’d recognize anywhere. She’d grown up with it, like pretty much everyone else. His voice was rich and authoritative—befitting the used-car salesman he’d once been. Now the guardians’ leader stood before her like he was posing for a statue in his honor.
“Talon Man.”
“We meet finally. The tracker who brought Shattergirl back into the fold. Quite an achievement. Her reputation for being difficult is well known.”
Lena bristled at the implication.
He laughed. “You misunderstand. It was not an insult. She’s independent, free-spirited, and smarter than all the other founders put together,” he said genially. “Even I’d never argue otherwise. Of course, she’d have her own way of doing things. Like turning up at the last minute for the biggest
ceremony in a century.”
He smiled broadly but Lena could smell the tagshart.
Talon Man leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “But can you just tell me one thing?”
“What?”
“Is she happy, wherever she is? Because I know Eloise Pittman by now. We all do, given we’ve seen so much of her over the years ever since Nyah first hired her as an impersonator. She gave you Eloise’s details then? Told you she’s her best Shattergirl double?”
Shocked by his accuracy, Lena didn’t reply. To hell she’d admit that.
Talon Man continued, “If you’ve hired Eloise, that means you were successful in finding Nyah. So, well done, my dear, on that much at least. A shame you couldn’t drag her here in person, of course.”
Lena gritted her teeth.
“We’re not stupid, Tracker Martin. We do know our own people. Don’t make me ask Eloise for a flying demonstration to prove what you and I both know. So tell me, is Nyah happy now?”
Crap. He had her there. Lena gave a curt nod. “Yes. And she’d like to be left in peace.”
Talon Man pursed his lips and nodded. “I see. Well, I suppose we’ll have to make do without her. Perhaps we’ll keep Eloise on the books for any future events. These days Nyah’s more trouble to us than she’s worth anyway.”
Lena shot him a venomous look.
Talon Man’s bushy eyebrow hiked in response. “Interesting. Very interesting,” he said, assessing her, looking her up and down in a way that was borderline insulting. “Nyah doesn’t usually play well with others. Not with the founders and especially not tagshart trackers. Those would be her words, not mine, of course. Here, we highly value the work our hard-working trackers do for us.”
Lena said nothing. She wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but she wasn’t about to provide it.
“All right,” he finally said. “I’ll leave her be and send no one else after her. However that’s not the reason I wanted to talk to you.”