Untrained Eye

by Jody Klaire

  “Well, if you don’t count the fact that you are bound by CIG and got to tell them where you are.” We headed down the path. The students were quiet, walking in uniform lines in front of us.

  Frei narrowed her eyes but then laughed. “You got me there.”

  We headed into the gym building. There were rooms feeding off a main hallway with a shiny floor. Bland, institutional doors with window panes in the top.

  I could see the different things they’d been set up for. Some looked like classrooms, fitness suites, treatment rooms. It was a jock’s paradise.

  That’s if you didn’t count the whole slave thing.

  “So why can’t you guys look at them?” We headed into the main gym and I stared at the mass of kids sitting cross-legged in the hall. It was something I hadn’t done since I was in kindergarten. “I mean, you don’t talk, you don’t look.”

  “Let it go,” she whispered, her words curt. I tensed until she gave my hand a quick squeeze.

  “Fine,” I muttered as the other staff filtered in behind us. “But I ain’t letting you get sucked back in and I ain’t got the stamina to push weights with you every night.”

  I couldn’t feel my arms as it was.

  “I won’t. You and our dear friend remind me.”

  I knew she meant Renee. “Good. I like you grumpy as you are.”

  She smiled at me with such genuine warmth that it was hard to put her with the cold icy commander I knew. “Quit staring, Samson. Get to work.”

  She stalked to the other side next to the benches with me in tow. To have survived all she had with such coolness said a lot about her spirit. Slave or not, it couldn’t crush her inside.

  No, Frei was proof that they could take everything away and a soul could still be stronger. Maybe that’s what had forged her into the hero she was. Either way. I felt proud to know her and duty bound to support her. She’d need me, that much was clear.

  THE KIDS WERE all divided up according to the skill sets that the tests had shown. They sat on the floor in those corresponding sections. One lot in the center and four behind them.

  Harrison introduced herself to the new staff in a nasal, “I’m better than you,” twang. She told us that the group in front were called the gold group as Renee and a woman with short dark hair walked in.

  I fought the urge to grin and wave. It was always a relief to see Renee. I folded my arms to stop myself from thinking how fun that would have been to explain.

  Renee and the woman beside her would be in charge of the gold group. It was clear to me that these were the kids our POIs would be part of. They had a mixture of privileged kids and gifted slaves. They were the most valuable merchandise as Jäger would say. I glanced at him with the thought. He was watching me and shot a charming smile back. Oh brother.

  Renee wouldn’t be happy my lunatic magnet was working again. By what she did to Sam, Jäger should hide his kneecaps. That made me smile and I swallowed, realizing I was still staring in Jäger’s direction.

  Frei stepped forward as Harrison spoke. She was given the group at the back, to the left of the gold group. They were silver. They were a fit-looking bunch who would make great thieves.

  Jones got the group to the right of hers, they were bronze. So the academy was into metals. A lot of the bronze group were smaller, more wiry. He didn’t look like much of a thief but then what did I know. Maybe they had other skills, like staring at people and creeping them out.

  Sawyer got the ones on the far right, Titanium, who looked as friendly as he did. Seriously, those were the brats who prowled high school halls and tormented poor kids who’d broken away from the pack.

  They felt nasty. I could still feel the pent up issues. I felt relieved I was bigger than the lot of them.

  Then Harrison informed me that the group remaining was mine. Mostly boys, girls, some . . . well . . . maybe varying on that spectrum. Most were on the weedy side or looked vacant. We didn’t even get metal. We were wood.

  I tried not to chuckle. If I was in this for money, I might have scowled but instead I just fought not to shake my head and laugh. Wooden misfits. It was perfect.

  Frei had told me that I had to train them to be muscle. By Blackbear, they were gonna be the finest, funniest muscle this place had seen. Wooden misfit muscle.

  “You’ll be expected to teach the touring students from the gold group during the season,” Harrison told me, making me pay attention. “The same for the others going through academic classes.”

  The season? Like hunting season? I looked at Frei whose look told me she would once again explain later.

  “It is good for all our students to have secondary skills,” Harrison told us.

  I’d bet. A thug who could steal and paint a Picasso would be worth a few dollars.

  “Each child will have a report from the skill captains and head tutors.” She motioned to Renee and the dark-headed woman. “Professor Worthington, head of humanities, and Professor Owens, head of sciences, will hand them to you during their tours.” She was addressing me ’cause I guess everybody else knew.

  I was too busy staring at Renee. She’d been Doctor Serena Llys when we’d met. So was she Professor Worthington or Owens and was I gonna like her or want to yell at her?

  “Samson,” Harrison said. “Is the new head of Physical Education.”

  Renee’s eyes flickered with amusement but then she averted them to look at the woman beside her.

  “Locks is her deputy,” Harrison continued.

  My eyes were still on Renee as a deep frown etched across her brow. She knew Frei’s old name.

  “Jones and Sawyer tend to take care of the team sports,” Harrison told me, “but they’ll be in the engineering block should you need them.”

  Harrison smiled and her eyes flicked to the gold group. I could almost envision her rubbing her jewel-heavy fingers together. I noticed there was no wedding ring though. Not surprising. She’d probably sold him.

  “So there’s no dedicated male coach?” the professor beside Renee asked. She had a soft, cultured accent, which made me think of maybe Boston or more like the Hamptons.

  Her eyes were wide, intelligent. She wasn’t a lot taller than Renee but she was lean and pretty much supermodel potential. I didn’t know what her genes were but she looked like she’d been built for aesthetics. Renee and her were a lot more attractive than my high school teachers had been. Most of them had worn cardigans . . . all year around.

  “There’s no need,” Harrison said. “Samson has proven she can coach in any environment.”

  I had? I needed to re-run my cover because I did not remember that. I knew nothing about coaching.

  “The reports will be filed to whom?” Renee asked with some fancy accent that I guessed was English. It amazed me how she could do that with such ease.

  “To me, Professor Worthington,” Harrison answered and clapped her hands together. “I expect results.”

  Was that for us or the students?

  At her command the students got to their feet like they’d been stung, turned in neat rows, and filed out in silence like mini-soldiers. The gold group did it with more pride in their step while mine looked like they might trip over their own feet.

  “Ten bucks I get mine growing bulk and marching yours off the hall,” I whispered into Frei’s ear as we followed them out.

  She grinned at me. “You’re on.”

  From the glint in her eyes, I was glad that I weren’t one of her group. I’d been through her boot camp. Poor things didn’t know what was gonna hit them.

  Then I smiled and winked at Renee as Frei and I sauntered past. Neither did mine.

  Chapter 15

  IT BECAME PRETTY clear over the first week as I tried to assess the fitness of my group that I’d gotten the runts.

  I’d never seen kids so unfit or zoned out. Some of them were sweet, some of them I wanted to hang from the weights bench.

  One boy kept fainting every time he stood up for more than a couple
of seconds. It didn’t bode well for a life of thuggery. I couldn’t figure out why it kept happening and I needed somebody with medical training. He wasn’t the only one I wondered about either. One girl could barely breathe so I kept her away from anything physical and I was pretty sure another boy was having blackouts. I’d be talking to him and the lights would go out. Sometimes he’d clatter to his knees, other times he’d wander off like someone had pressed the reset button.

  When I asked for Frei’s help, I expected her to laugh at me. Instead she explained a lot of kids with medical problems were sidelined. It cost money and unless they were worth it, they stayed untreated.

  I wasn’t surprised to see Doctor Andrews turn up a couple of days later. I knew that CIG were on hand to help out, waiting in RVs somewhere in the surrounding area. They’d done the same back in Oppidum. Where one went, a team was nearby.

  Doctor Andrews ran through the group and then sat me down with a grave look on his face.

  I tensed, waiting for the verdict. Doctors could freak anyone out with a sharp intake of breath.

  “It’s a good thing you brought me in when you did.” He leaned onto his knees as we sat on a bench in the gym. “So far I’ve diagnosed type two diabetes, dyspraxia, severe asthma. Her pump is not the correct one.” He shook his head, lips curled in disgust. “I’ve run an EEG on two which leans toward them having possible epilepsy. One is having fits and the other blackouts . . .”

  He went down his list. It was official, I had the medical rejects. “What about the kid who passes out all the time.”

  Doctor Andrews sighed. “Tough one, maybe he’s not eating or it’s a stress thing.”

  I weren’t buying that. “You run tests?”

  He gave me a look that made me shift in my seat. How dare I second guess him? He had a piece of paper to prove he was clever. “Everything has come back normal.”

  I was still an empath, dimmed or not. “You checked his heart?”

  The way my heart thumped when the kid passed out, I figured it was as good a chance as any.

  “It’s all normal. I gave him an ECG.” He shrugged. “Psychosomatic probably.”

  I fixed the doctor with my best glare. That kid had something up with him physically. “Do it when he’s standing.”

  Doctor Andrews sighed that irritating sigh doctors do when they feel burdened. “I’ll do it but I’m not convinced.”

  He handed me the list on my group. It was bleak reading. “Now, I’ve prescribed the medications but I’ll need the parents’ signatures for the insurance.”

  Were there any parents? How much did Andrews know? “Leave that to me. Best we keep your input as minimal as possible.”

  Doctor Andrews muttered something again about insurance and then went off to run his test on my fainter.

  I spotted Renee loitering at the edge of the gym and wandered over to lean on the doorjamb beside her. I knew I couldn’t say hi or even smile but I hoped the closeness would put her at ease. I could feel how tense she was from across the gym.

  “Worthington, ain’t it?” I asked, hoping I sounded like the gruff criminal I was meant to be.

  “Yes,” she said in that fancy accent. “Doctor Roberta Worthington.”

  She stuck out her hand but I glared down at it. Roberta? Where did she come up with these names? Not that they weren’t nice but they never suited her. Where had Serena Llys gone anyhow? Then I remembered. The last cover always became her sister, that’s how she kept track.

  “Long way from home ain’t you.” I missed her normal accent.

  “I came here with my sister a few years ago.” Renee met my gaze. “She took a job in Austin.”

  “She a teacher like you?” I asked, feeling like I was meeting this person for the first time. One of the women in Serenity had been a few people inside her mind. I half wondered if Renee was borderline herself. She was too convincing and it freaked me out. I hoped I hid it.

  “No, a psychiatrist.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Guess you got all the brains if she’s a quack.”

  Renee glared up at me. Cold, hard, unyielding. If I couldn’t feel how much she wanted to hug me, I would have been hurt. “My sister is missing.”

  “Not surprised if she messes with people’s heads.” I knew Renee was checking up on me because she’d seen Doctor Andrews. She was probably making sure I hadn’t re-lived any more healing. “You ain’t one too are you?”

  “Took a class in college, why?” She failed to keep the twinkle out of her eyes.

  “The kids in my group have issues,” I said, fighting the smile shining in my own. “I don’t do issues.”

  Renee leaned in, against the doorjamb right next to me, and looked up. “How do you know, Samson?”

  I was trying to be gruff and she was enjoying my attempt at being undercover. I waved the sheet at her not to break out in a smile and ask how she thought I was doing. I wanted to impress her. She’d been working hard teaching me.

  Renee took the sheet, trailing her hand over mine as she did. It was reassurance. It helped calm me.

  She read down the list and her shoulders sagged. “That’s quite a group.”

  She had her fingers next to a name. “I’d be careful with some.”

  Jed, a boy with violent tendencies. “You think a kid who’s scared of the doc’s needles needs my attention?” I got she was trying to tell me something. I didn’t know how to ask without asking. I needed some kind of code.

  “He threatened two of my group,” she said, waving the sheet as if she was angry but her eyes were filled with affection. “He doesn’t enjoy hearing the word no.”

  “He won’t give you trouble.” I nodded over to the equipment. It felt a bit dumb to train a bully up so he could be a bigger, stronger bully but that was my job. “So, you got any ideas on my nutcase?”

  I was more concerned with one of the others. Jessie was a small kid, the one with the asthma problem. Something wasn’t right about her and I couldn’t figure out what. She acted like she didn’t understand me when she did.

  “Having someone to look up to might help,” Renee whispered. “They might show her how to be proud of who she is. Talk her through it.”

  She stared down at the list. She was close to hugging me. Her arm pressed against mine. “This one?”

  It was the fainter. “He keeps dropping. When he sits, he’s great, but the minute he’s up, he passes out.”

  “A heart condition then.”

  I blinked at her a few times. To cover it she fussed over my t-shirt as if the threads were fascinating. “I once dated an astronaut. Same thing happened to him when he came back from space.”

  Was she telling me the truth? Cover or reality? “But . . . You . . . Huh?”

  Renee smiled as if she wanted to laugh. “Me . . . Professor Worthington.” She studied my t-shirt more closely. “I like rough tough military men.”

  “He’s bright,” I mumbled, not sure whether to hug her for the help or sit her down and make her take a lie detector test. I’d never been able to read some things about Renee as it was. I was certain she found my reaction hilarious by the twinkle in her eyes. She couldn’t even look at me.

  “I’m surprised he isn’t in the gold group.” I was torn between chuckling and demanding that she write down every single bit of her life story so I could figure out what was fact or fiction. My head hurt.

  “Me too,” she said, trailing her hand up to my biceps. “You don’t seem to have any issues with fainting though.”

  She wanted to know if I was okay. She was checking up on me. I didn’t get how her being so affectionate would make folks think I didn’t know her.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered, knowing my tone was way too soft for a vicious criminal. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You live with . . . Locks . . . don’t you?” The way she said Frei’s name screamed “tell me the truth.” How did I wriggle out of this one?

  Then I remembered Doctor Andrews in the CIG ba
se. “Military nicknames are dumb but they seem to love them.”

  Renee narrowed her eyes but a smile curled the corners of her lips. She had lipstick that made her lips look real pale. A contrast from Serena Llys, whose makeup dazzled me every time I looked at her.

  “You know a lot about the military?” She tapped me on the chest with her long nails. Ah, so she was hiding her neatly cut ones again.

  I went to speak but her hand tensed on my arm. She glanced over my shoulder. Her eyes met mine. Her words flashed through my thoughts.

  Someone’s watching. Act like your cover.

  She ran her hand up and down my arm, her tension made my muscles twitch. “Is that where you got your nickname from?”

  I thought I had been acting like my cover. Right, guess I needed to be more mean or something?

  “Careful.” I leaned in closer, hoping I could be more convincing. “Maybe your sister asked too many questions.”

  Electricity shot through her fingertips. She snapped her hand away. I caught it. Her fear flared. A picture of Yannick. I held her gaze, hoping I could send reassurance back at her.

  I’m not him. I got you. I won’t hurt you.

  Her eyes studied mine, all her body language screamed out that she was terrified but I thought I could see relief in her eyes. I hoped that she knew I was a big dumb softy at heart. I didn’t much like being mean to her. I also didn’t want her to judo throw me over her shoulder.

  “Yes. Well . . . I . . .”

  I pulled her in closer. Strange how I could tell someone was watching but not who. I still seemed to be affected by acute feelings and still linked to Renee. I just seemed to need to be closer to her to sort out the signals. I guess I needed to read her touch.

  “I . . . I should be going.” She tried to pull her hand away but I held fast. It didn’t matter how dimmed my burdens were, I knew whoever lurked could see our bond. This had to be convincing. It had to cover our connection. It needed to look real.

  “Why, professor, what’s the rush?” I pulled her off balance, forcing her to cling onto me with her other arm. “I got plenty of answers for you.”