Foreseen (The Rothston Series)

by Smiles, Terri-Lynne

  Rex sat up straighter as a trim man in his fifties, with distinguished graying temples, entered and took a seat with the other committee members. This was our guy. Representative Jake Brady. And he looked a lot more focused than the other two. Rex had already warned me that Brady would be a challenge. Hopefully, Rex wouldn’t add to it.

  I let him settle in before I went to work. It’d be easier to find his decision about this issue if he was already focusing on it. After a few minutes, the chair deferred to Mr. Brady to ask his questions. Perfect.

  Mr. Brady drew himself up in his chair and announced with a slight drawl. “I do apologize to y’all for being tardy. The missus has quite the comin’ out party planned for our sixteen-year-old tonight, and I couldn’t get out without approvin’ all the decorations … again,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, drawing polite laughter from the sparse crowd. “So, Mr. Bennington,” he began, putting on a pair of half glasses and peering over the top at the witness.

  I stopped listening and focused on my adept sense instead. It was hazier than usual. Harder to focus. I’d noticed it with the other two, but it hadn’t mattered. I found the decisions Mr. Brady was making involving this committee – whether to call out the chair for giving him the wrong start time – probably not. I whispered what I’d just read in Brady’s decisions to Rex, as I flipped over and quickly read the chair. Brady was right. She’d given him the wrong time on purpose, and was working out how to diffuse the accusation if it came. “Why do they do stuff like that?” I complained to Rex.

  Rex chuckled beside me. “Why not? Just think what a world of hurt we’d be in if these idiots in Congress actually did anything. Having them hold each other at bay is a service to everyone.”

  I shook my head, knowing this wasn’t the time to get into an argument with Rex over such a stupid statement. Obviously, if what he’d said was right, we might as well not have a Congress, and that wasn’t what the Founding Fathers had in mind. I went back to reading Representative Brady. This time, I got closer to what I was looking for. Mr. Brady was eyeing the witness skeptically, deciding whether to confront him with evidence of terrorist activity that this military contractor should have brought to the committee.

  I flipped my attention back to the other two swing voters. The woman hadn’t wavered in the slightest and the fat man wasn’t even listening. Back to Mr. Brady. I sorted through the murky futures until I found the decision about additional military intervention – he was in favor of it. The alternative branch wasn’t very big, but I’d broadened ones smaller than this. I tried to expand it, but it didn’t budge. I focused harder. Nothing. I stopped for a moment, searching for the pain in my head to let me know that Rex was making me go about this wrong. But it wasn’t there. I held my breath and tried to influence Mr. Brady again. No effect at all.

  I glanced at Rex who was amused at my failure until he tried it himself. Over and over, we took turns trying to influence the guy, but neither of us made any headway at all. After twenty minutes, with a bead of sweat running down from his temple, Rex gave up.

  “C’mon,” he said, pushing me into the aisle and stalking out of the hearing room.

  “Where are we going?” I hissed, struggling to keep up with his march down the hall.

  “To the White House. Now you get to see how things really get done.”

  ψ

  “My goodness, dear. That dress is stunning on you,” Alicia Myers said, as we stood in the living room of Jake Brady’s Georgetown home.

  “Thank you,” I said graciously to the White House Chief of Staff. I’d have to remember to thank Sasha for insisting I bring it. She was right. Our plans had changed.

  Only four hours ago, Rex had talked his way into the White House and the office of his boss-to-be when he graduated in a couple months. Standing in the White House made me start thinking about what I’d want to do after college. I’d never thought something like this was possible. But now, the limits on my options had vanished, given that Rothston could make just about anything happen.

  Ms. Myers had welcomed us into her office, and within minutes, had invited us to this party. A sweet sixteen party, she called it, for the daughter of her good friend, Jake Brady. I had to give Rex credit. He was good. Even without his adept attributes, he’d have been good. With them, he was unstoppable. And now that we were in a social setting, maybe we could influence Mr. Brady when he wasn’t as focused on the decision, although I was curious as to why he was so set in his vote.

  I glanced around the formal living room. With its oriental rugs and paintings of huntsmen and their dogs, it felt like a museum to me. Even on the outside, the off-white, brick house with its Victorian hip roof looked like something out of another time. And this wasn’t like any teenage birthday party I’d ever been to. The women all wore elaborate party dresses, and the men were in suits. Even the high school guys. For the kids, it looked like prom, only in someone’s house. A really nice house. It seemed like a place where Alexander Hamilton or someone like that might have once lived.

  “Jonathan, dear, let me introduce you,” Ms. Myers said, patting the shoulder of a tall man whose back was to her. He turned around immediately. “This is my husband Jonathan Ferrera,” she informed us. “Jonathan, Rex Brolie will be joining us as my aide, come June. And this is his date, um …”

  “Companion,” Rex corrected, making me cringe. “Kinzie. Kinzie Nicolosi.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Ferrera said graciously. I hoped everyone ignored my reddened cheeks. I’d told Rex on the way here that I was uncomfortable being introduced as his date, and I figured he’d just stick with friend. “Companion” made it sound like I may have been rented for the night. I suppose I should be grateful he hadn’t said “escort.” Then everyone would be sure of it.

  “While you’re here, Rex, I have some questions for you that we didn’t have time for earlier. Could you excuse us for a moment,” Ms. Myers said to her husband and me. Without waiting for an answer, she led Rex toward the side of the room, away from the party-goers.

  Mr. Ferrera offered to introduce me to our hosts and led me over to Jake Brady. He reminded me a bit of Greg – something about his smile and broad shoulders. An attractive middle-aged blonde woman was beside him. Mr. Brady beamed adoringly as he introduced his wife. The look shot pangs through my heart.

  After a moment, Mrs. Brady excused herself to greet some other guests, giving me a chance to find out more about Mr. Brady. It was strange talking to a congressman like this, but I wanted to take the initiative. Hopefully, Rex would acknowledge it when he reported on our mission, and if not, I’d make sure Mr. Jamison knew anyway.

  “May I ask you a question, sir? A work question?” I asked Mr. Brady politely.

  “Darlin’, you’re in the District of Columbia. We’re always workin’ here. What do you want to know?”

  “I sat in on your committee hearing this morning.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Got to be better things to do in the nation’s capitol than that,” he said with a laugh.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But I was wondering – it sounded like you were in favor of more military intervention in North Africa, but I wasn’t sure why.”

  “Ah … that’s a good question. I’m a bit old fashioned around this town. You see, I think of myself as a representative.”

  “But you are a Representative,” I pointed out.

  “Little ‘r,’ not a big one. I don’t think I’m smarter than anyone else in my district, and I don’t think I’ve got more answers than they do, or better intuition or foresight. Nothing like that. What I do have are ears.” He held up his hand as I started to question that. “Now I know what you’re gonna say. People don’t know enough to have intelligent opinions. Well, there’s a fix to that. I spend time talking to my constituents. Lots of it. And so does my staff. And we ask them questions … not those cockamamie poll questions to hear what we want to hear. Have you ever taken one of those?” I shook my head. “Terrible things. Ask qu
estions like, ‘are you in favor of world peace?’ Who doesn’t want world peace? That doesn’t tell me anything. What are the terms? The tradeoffs? I reckon the world would be pretty peaceful if we were all in prison cells, but that doesn’t make it a good thing.”

  I grinned as Mr. Brady got on a roll. This was obviously a subject he was passionate about. “We ask real questions. Give them facts and alternatives if we can. If not, maybe we use hypotheticals. The people tell me what they want me to do. That’s my job. Listen to them. Make government work for them, not the other way around.”

  “So why didn’t you say anything today about being given the wrong start time?” I asked. He looked at me in surprise, and I realized I shouldn’t know that. “I … uh … that’s what happened, isn’t it? You don’t seem like the type that comes in late for a hearing.”

  Thankfully he bought it, but honestly, he couldn’t very well accuse me of reading his mind. “You must be following my record,” he said with a satisfied smile. “Wouldn’t have done any good to publicly shame her, now would it? I don’t approve of her games, but I’m there to do a job, not get into a barnyard squabble.”

  I had a full fledge smile on my face now. “Okay. So you listen to the people. What does that mean in terms of North Africa?”

  “What it means, is that it doesn’t matter much what we do in terms of terrorists attacking things overseas. We can whittle them down here or there with very little risk to our soldiers, but it won’t make any sizeable difference. But where it does matter is here at home. It makes people feel safer. They’ve told me that. And when they have confidence in the future, they spend more and create jobs and keep the economy humming. That’s why I’m in favor of more military there. According to my constituents, it helps us here. It just might make my little girl’s life better, and those of her friends,” he concluded, nodding toward the cluster of girls in the dining room. “And yours too.”

  I was stunned, not quite believing what I’d just heard. So different from the sea of toxic thoughts I’d been swimming in all day, but as I examined Mr. Brady’s future paths and decisions, he seemed sincere.

  “Are you okay, Ms. Nicolosi?”

  I stammered, as I shifted from my adept senses, diverting my eyes to the girls across the room. “Which one’s the birthday girl?” I asked cheerfully.

  “The peach dress. That’s my Gracie. The cute one beside her is Jonathan and Alicia’s girl, Emily. They’ve been best friends since birth. Changed both of their diapers. Took them on vacations. I remember wading into the ocean with one on each hand. Can’t believe they’re so grown up,” he said wistfully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to go get ready for the cake. Nice talking to you. And thanks for the questions.”

  He bowed away, leaving me to wonder what we’d been doing today. Not that I thought Mr. Brady was right. He couldn’t be giving the average Joe enough information to have meaningful opinions on complicated issues, but I admired his passion and commitment, and felt a little awkward that we’d been steering him away from it – trying to make him vote contrary to his beliefs and the will of his constituents which he’d been elected to uphold.

  I moved over to the buffet table in the dining room, carefully selecting a couple of strawberries to eat, while watching the clutch of girls out of the corner of my eye. They were huddled together, giggling at the boys on the far side of the living room. I had never been one of those girls, and even after my recent foray into the world of romance, had no desire to become one. My breath hitched and my stomach trembled when I thought that, but I knew that would leave in time. And my life would be a lot easier this way.

  I reached for another strawberry, when a high-pitched shriek came through the wall. The middle-aged man beside me quickly rolled open the pocket doors separating us from the kitchen to come to the aid of whoever had cried out. His eyes grew wide in shock and his mouth moved silently for a moment until he could finally form words.

  “God. Jake. No,” his voice shook, as he fell back in horror.

  People crowded in to see what had happened. I peered around the man’s back to see Emily Ferrera, Gracie’s friend, with her back pressed against the sink on the far side of the kitchen, covering her face with shaking hands. And there in front of her stood Jake Brady – with his pants around his feet.

  Chaos erupted. Jonathan Ferrera pushed through the crowd, spun Jake Brady around and punched him squarely in the face. Alicia Myers, her pretty face as hard as granite, ushered her daughter from the room. I heard several people behind me calling the police, while others sounded like they were talking to reporters. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the throng.

  “We should get out of here,” Rex said, digging my coat out of the pile in the study.

  We were out on the street by the time my shock lifted enough to speak, and I turned on Rex. “You did that,” I accused.

  He laughed. “Yeah, pretty good, huh?” He switched to a faux-southern accent. “Don’t think ol’ Jake’ll be making that there vote come tomorree.”

  My mind balked and I lost the power of speech for a split second before it came roaring back like the rage shooting through me. “But, you didn’t just take him out of this vote, you ruined him. Destroyed his career. His life’s work. You ruined his life!”

  Rex didn’t even blink. “He shouldn’t have gotten in my way. Besides, I couldn’t have made him do it if he hadn’t been thinking about it.”

  I stepped over a puddle left from the evenings’ showers as my fury blistered in pinpricks all over my body. “Gotten in your way? How, Rex? He doesn’t know about us. No one does. He was doing what he thought was right. What the people that elected him thought was right.”

  Rex erupted with a sadistic laugh and continued his sauntering stride. “What the fuck is your problem, Kinz? Decisions are decisions, and he made a whopper tonight.”

  “He wasn’t thinking about exposing himself to that girl!” I screeched, turning to walk backwards in front of him so he couldn’t avoid me. “What did you combine? Those fifty billion decisions we’re all making all the time. You combined them to this? To make him a pervert?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Rex ordered and nodded at some passersby.

  “This isn’t protecting humanity or making the world better,” I hissed barely lowering my voice.

  “Grow up. We needed to slow down the military. This is what it takes to do it. That guy doesn’t matter.”

  “You destroyed him, and his family, and that girl! They had absolutely nothing to do with this!”

  “Life’s a bitch, Kinz.” He took my arm and guided me around the corner, lecturing me sternly. “This is the real world, not academic masturbation. Sometimes the jobs get messy. But the job has to get done, and I make sure it does. I’ve never failed a mission, and I wasn’t going to start tonight.”

  It was suddenly clear exactly what had happened. “You did this for your own ego?”

  “I did what it took to get the job done. Brady’s a nobody. He doesn’t matter. Just another turd in our way. Get used to it or get out of the way yourself.”

  I froze in my tracks in the circle of light cast from an ornamental lamp pole as the words rang in my head. The nobodies didn’t matter. I’d said that to Greg. My heart thudded. My god, I was becoming Rex.

  Chapter 21

  Greg

  Feet clomped relentlessly upstairs like some fucking parade, and last night’s attempt to drown my sorrows in tequila left them echoing in my head like a bell tower. A hand rapped on the door. I rolled over in my bed, pulling the pillow around my ears to drown it out. A second light rap. Damn. The frat house wasn’t providing any refuge. And that had to be a girl. Any guy would have pounded on the door and yelled. They’d figured out I was available again. Fuck. What did they think I was – some gigolo around for their amusement?

  A fist pounded this time. “Langston, get your ass out here,” Boomer’s voice blasted through.

  “Fuck you. Leave me alone,” I yelled b
ack, and it felt like an axe hacked through my head at the sound.

  “Fuck yourself. Open the door or I’ll bust it down.”

  What the hell? I rolled off my bed and stumbled across the room, with every inch of my body aching – wanting me to get back in that bed, pull the covers over my head, and never come out. Even the light was painful. I snapped the door open with my fist cocked, ready to pummel Boomer, but he wasn’t there. I stepped into the empty hallway, confused. But when I turned to head back into my room, my eyes hit the stairs.

  Kinzie huddled on the edge of a step, her dark hair falling around her knees. For a moment, my heart leapt, until I remembered I didn’t care. I stared, wondering why she was here. I blinked, but she was still there and my gut went cold. Shit. This was the last thing I needed. “Hey,” I said, standing in front of her.

  “I could use a friend,” Kinzie said hoarsely, and looked up at me with puffy red eyes and a broken smile. She looked like hell – like she hadn’t slept and her hair was twisted into knots. She reminded me of an abandoned kitten who’d been pulled from a muddy trench. I couldn’t tell her to get lost.

  “How was D.C.?” I asked, keeping my tone flat so she wouldn’t mistake it for caring.

  She stared into space, tears welling up in her eyes. God, she was making this hard. If I walked away now, I’d be a total ass. I couldn’t do that to her, even if she deserved it.

  “I wanted to make everything logical and … and good,” she said without looking at me. “But we’re doing things that hurt people. You were right. I am hurting people. Destroying their lives. There isn’t any difference.”

  She wasn’t making any sense. I shook my head, wondering if it was the effects of the tequila. “So what happened?” I asked, and leaned up against the wall hoping the cool cinderblock walls of the basement would assuage the pounding in my head. It didn’t work.

  “I met a man this weekend. A nice, intelligent man. He said that he wasn’t smarter than other people, and that he didn’t have any more answers than them. I didn’t believe him, but what if he was right? He is right, isn’t he?”