The Ninth

by Benjamin Schramm

  Jack hid it well, but he was shocked to sense just a hint of warmth in the doctor toward him. Brent’s words instantly came to mind. The boy had known the doctor liked him – before he had. Could the boy be more sensitive than even a Master Weaver? Jack had to know.

  “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  “Why do I get the impression I’m not going to like it?”

  “I need you to release him from Medical. As soon as you can.”

  The doctor paused a minute. She studied Jack’s rough face.

  “Why?” Dr. Benedict asked.

  “That’s not a flat rejection.”

  “I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Brent is struggling to understand exactly what happened. His answers to my questions were scattered and somewhat incoherent. I think the boy needs to spend some time away from Medical. Spend some time in familiar surroundings. Back with people he knows. Somewhere he can feel safe and truly relax.”

  “I’d like to keep him here for observation. Plus, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m dying to run some more tests on him.”

  “But . . .”

  “But I can see your reasoning. With most of the Weavers stuck here in Medical, I doubt he’ll be in any danger. I’ll run one last set of tests to make sure he’s alright. If he passes with flying colors I’ll let him return to his division – for now. However, if I get wind he so much as coughed too hard, he’ll be back here before even you can stop me.”

  “I owe you one.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Chapter 16: New Home

  Brent’s head throbbed. The memories of all the emotions flooded his mind. He had tried to answer Davis’s questions, but it was so hard to focus. It was impossible to tell if he was remembering someone else’s feelings or if they were his own. In flashes he would shift from blind rage to deep depression. It was exhausting to control it all. Medics and nurses had been constantly harassing him, poking and prodding, asking idiotic questions over and over. They weren’t helping him focus. He was still sorting through it all when he felt a hand at his shoulder. Gentle warmth pulsed from his shoulder; the conflicting emotions dimmed in his mind.

  “Brent?” Cassandra gently asked. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He took the hand at his shoulder and held it tightly. “Just a lot on my mind.”

  “They tell me I’m free to go.” She took a seat at his side.

  “Then why hang around here? Haven’t had your fill of Medical yet?”

  “Could be worse. Last time I sat like this you didn’t even know I was here.”

  “Sorry I worried you so much.”

  “You don’t have to apologize . . .”

  “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt.” Dr. Benedict stood at the end of the bed and studied the monitors.

  “Is everything all right?” Cassandra asked, with more than a hint of concern.

  “Everything is fine. In fact, I’m releasing him into your care.”

  Brent stiffened.

  “Calm down. I’m not being manipulated by a Weaver. Well, actually I am. Just not how you’re thinking. Davis asked that I let you return to your division. Personally, I think he wasn’t happy with your answers and wants to spy on you. He said a change of scenery would do you good. On that note, I’m of the same opinion. There really isn’t anything more I can do for you here, and you seem to have a knack for recovering on your own. Just make sure you don’t miss any meals, and see me right away if anything happens. I mean anything; if you sneeze too hard I want you back here. Understand?”

  Brent nodded. Dr. Benedict ignored him and stared at Cassandra.

  “Understood,” Cassandra said, her cheeks red.

  “Good. Then I leave him in your hands. Take good care of him.”

  Cassandra’s face reddened even further. He waited until the doctor had gone before he turned to face Cassandra.

  “You’re not wearing your suit?” he asked as realization hit him.

  “It had to be repaired after the trial. When I got it back I didn’t feel like wearing it any more.”

  “Glad to hear it. It would be a shame to cover that pretty face.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Cassandra’s face grew even redder. She looked at the floor, hiding her face. Brent got out of the bed and pulled her up to a standing position.

  “You don’t ever have to hide your face from me,” he said warmly.

  He pulled her close and kissed her. With teary eyes she smiled at him.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” Cassandra said as she embraced him tightly.

  “Let’s go home.”

  She smiled warmly and nodded. Together they left Medical and headed back to their division. The station felt lonely as they walked down the empty corridors. Brent wondered just how many had been involved in the confrontation earlier. Were the hallways empty as his supporters recuperated from the ordeal? He realized he was still holding Cassandra’s hand. Hesitantly, he released her. As he broke contact, the memories flooded back. The feelings of every Weaver from that afternoon washed over him. He quickly grabbed her hand again before he was lost in the tide.

  “You sure you’re up to this?” Cassandra asked cautiously.

  “I think so, as long as I’ve got you.” He held onto her hand tightly.

  When they reached the FF common room, the sounds of celebration could be heard oozing into the hallway. As the doorway opened, blaring music filled the corridors. The troopers of the FF were still celebrating their victory. They were so busy with their party no one noticed the two newcomers. The pair quickly made their way through the common room to their bunks.

  “I don’t believe it! Is that Brent?” Kindra shouted from her archway.

  A hush fell over the partying troopers. With a unified cheer they all shouted Brent’s name, raising their glasses in tribute. The volume of the music increased as the troopers returned to their party.

  “Good to see you,” Sanderson said as he approached the pair. “We were worried something had happened to you after the trial. Cassandra has been intolerably quiet on the matter. No doubt sworn to secrecy.”

  As Sanderson reached them, he offered his hand to Brent. Hesitantly, he shook the offered hand; a gentle breeze of emotions wafted over him. He could feel Sanderson’s relief that he was safe, along with several other emotions. It took Brent a moment to recover from the sudden wash of information.

  “He doesn’t look so good. Everything all right?” Kindra asked Cassandra.

  “Just needs a good night’s sleep.”

  “Won’t find that here. These knuckle heads have been celebrating nonstop since the trial.”

  “Kindra, what is he doing here?” Bernard asked, struggling to stand straight.

  “I think you’ve had enough to drink. Why don’t you go lay down?”

  “Okay, so I’ve had a few drinks; nothing to get worked up over. Didn’t you see the transfer orders?”

  “What transfer?” Sanderson held the drunken trooper steady.

  “Brent. Got the notice a couple days ago.” Bernard slurred his words as he spoke. “He signed up with another division. Too good for us anymore.”

  Sanderson turned to face Brent, confusion written all over his face. Without Sanderson’s support, Bernard fell to the ground like chopped timber.

  “That can’t be true.” Cassandra looked at Brent for confirmation. “We were in Medical for weeks.”

  “Tyra.” Brent headed out of the common room, dragging Cassandra along.

  He quickly sped down the hallways. Cassandra tried to keep up as he pulled her along by her hand. She suddenly stopped; her strength easily halted Brent’s progress.

  “Where are we going in such a hurry?” she asked as she caught her breath.

  “The observation deck. Before the armed guards escorted us to Medical, Tyra told me to meet her there when I was released.”

  “So this is her doing?”

  “That’s my gue
ss.”

  They continued on to the observation deck, but at a slightly slower pace. The main observation room was dark and empty, the monitors black and lifeless. The lounge emitted a warm light. A bartender was sitting idly, reading something on his pad to pass the time. The tables sat empty; their surfaces gleamed in the pale light. In a corner was a single trooper, massaging an empty glass. Brent sat at the table across from the trooper. She raised her head, a melancholy expression on her face.

  “I’m guessing you’ve found out by now.” Tyra stared into her glass as she spoke.

  “You forged my transfer. Why?”

  “I knew it wouldn’t work, but I was out of options.”

  “You could have asked me.” He gestured for Cassandra to remain quiet.

  “You would have turned me down. I had to get you to sign on; the deal wouldn’t have worked otherwise.

  “What deal?”

  “My only chance to escape.”

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

  “You finished me.” Tyra sighed heavily. “Condemned me to the washouts. My division was completely wiped out by a single Weaver. But there was a glimmer of hope.”

  “Go on.”

  “One of the better divisions, in a single digit grade no less, had a disaster. One of their squads almost cost them the entire trial. The division leader was outraged. After she got rid of the old ones, she started looking for a new squad, was going to completely rebuild it. I don’t know why, but she was impressed I managed to stand up to you. So she offered me a deal.”

  “What deal?”

  “If I could get you to sign up to the division, she’d give me command of the squad. She’d even let me pick out the new troopers, but no Brent, no deal. Ronald has a friend in maintenance. He forged the transfer for me. I knew it wouldn’t work, but he said I had to at least try.”

  “I’m sorry, Tyra, but I can’t leave the FF. I have people I can’t leave behind.”

  As Brent moved to stand up, Tyra reached out for his hand.

  “I’m begging you. If I don’t get a single victory at the academy, I don’t stand a chance of having any kind of career.”

  When she made contact, her emotions flooded into him. The despair was unbearable. He was her last hope; she wasn’t trying to manipulate him. Brent faced Cassandra. He couldn’t leave her, but he couldn’t abandon Tyra in her present state. Tyra’s was dangerously close to the emotional state he had felt when Angela tried to make him commit suicide. He sat down and thought deeply.

  “I’ll make you a deal of my own,” Brent said after a long pause.

  “Anything; name your price.”

  “Brent, you can’t seriously . . .” Cassandra interrupted.

  “Let me select the squad.” Brent made his proposal. “You let me pick the troopers, and I’ll join you and Ronald.”

  Tyra stared at him for a moment as it sunk in.

  “You mean it?” Tyra blinked disbelievingly. “You’ll sign up with me?”

  “So you agree to my terms?”

  “I would have agreed to bear your child! You’ve got it!” Tyra was almost hysterical. “I’ve got to let Ronald know . . .”

  Tyra got up from the table and ran to the doorway. She paused for a moment and rushed back. Without warning she hugged Brent firmly.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

  In a flash Tyra was gone, the sense of hope and relief still filling Brent from her momentary contact. Slowly, he felt a mild pain growing in his hand. Cassandra was a deep red. Her hand was slowly crushing his.

  “What was that all about?” Cassandra asked angrily.

  “She was in a bad way. Might have done something unthinkable if I didn’t agree.”

  “You just wanted to impress her.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous. You are, aren’t you!”

  Her grip tightened as a response.

  “Cassandra, you’re about to break my hand.” Brent winced in pain.

  Startled, she quickly released him. He quickly grabbed her other hand as the flood of emotions started to return.

  “Do you remember the fight in the mess hall?” Brent asked, while nursing his hand.

  “Of course; don’t try to change the subject.”

  “I’m not changing the subject. Remember when you were gripping your own neck?”

  She nodded and felt her neck instinctively.

  “Tyra was feeling the same way. If I hadn’t done something . . . well I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”

  “Wait, I thought you said you couldn’t see emotions anymore.”

  “I can’t. But for some reason when people touch me I can sense everything they are feeling.”

  “Is that why you keep holding my hand?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “You’ve been holding my hand this entire time, just so you can know what I’m feeling? I’m just a test subject to you!” Cassandra was obviously deeply hurt.

  “Don’t be stupid. You know that’s not the truth.”

  “Then tell me why you haven’t let go of me for more than a few seconds since we left Medical,” she demanded.

  “It’s hard to explain. When I touch you I can think clearly, I can focus. When I let go I lose myself in the emotions.”

  “What emotions?” Cassandra quickly scanned the empty room. “The only other person here is the bartender. He can’t be all that exciting.”

  “They aren’t emotions from people around me. They are more like afterimages. Echos. I can clearly remember every emotion the Weavers in the mess hall were feeling. When I’m not touching you, I get overwhelmed by it all.”

  “I had no idea . . . that’s horrible.”

  “You think that’s bad? Just wait until you hear this.”

  “There’s more?”

  “With all those emotions rummaging around, I don’t think I can sleep alone . . .”

  Cassandra stared at him for a moment. Her face started to redden.

  “I’ve heard some lame pick up lines back home, but that takes the cake.”

  “What?” Brent blurted out in surprise.

  “You can’t be suggesting . . . we’re not even married!”

  “Now you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “And I was believing you too! You . . . wolf! Pervert!”

  “I never said that! You’re jumping to . . .” Brent paused. “Wait a minute; you’re giving me a hard time, aren’t you?”

  “Pay back for all the times you’ve embarrassed me,” Cassandra said playfully as a satisfied grin filled her.

  “I’ve created a monster.”

  “I learned from the best.” She winked at him.

  “Seriously though, what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Do we really have to share a bunk?” she asked as her face started to redden more severely.

  “Not necessarily, as long as I’m holding your hand I seem to be fine. I don’t think I need much more than that.”

  “Okay, so we just need to sleep nearby. What about the FF?”

  “With them partying all night? Even if I kept the emotions at bay, that music would be more than enough to keep us both up.”

  “Good point. Medical?”

  “I’d have to pass on that. We managed to escape from there without a Weaver ambush or Dr. Benedict dissecting me. I’d rather not walk back into the lion’s den. Plus, do you really want to sleep next to me with that woman observing us all night?”

  Cassandra shuddered violently at the thought and shook her head.

  “Well, I’m out of ideas,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing but tables and chairs here on the observation deck. Not exactly ideal sleeping conditions.”

  “I wonder . . .”

  “Forget it. I’m not sleeping on the floor, either.

  “I don’t mean that. The division Tyra was talking about. She said the division leader was rebuilding the entire squad.”

  “I remember that. She g
ot rid of an entire squad after a single mistake. Sounds like a charming woman.”

  “Perhaps, but think about it. That means there is an entire group of empty bunks.”

  “No celebrating troopers, no operating table, and much better than the floor.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “Fine, but you try anything tonight and I’ll break your arm.”

  Brent couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. It suddenly dawned on him that her emotions didn’t wash over him when they made contact. Cassandra used to be the only person he could sense, and now she was the only one he couldn’t. As they made their way to the new division he wondered why things were always so complicated for him.

  “Which division was it again?” Cassandra asked.

  “The SW, grade six. It should be to our left.”

  “I had learned the corridors around the FF; never thought I’d have to learn another part of the station.”

  “Didn’t think you’d be adopted into another division?”

  “A heavy-worlder with a bad temper who is never seen outside her suit. What do you think?”

  “I think we are there.”

  Brent approached the doorway that silently slid open for him. Before the pair was a large common room. While the FF had been partying with the intention of waking the dead, the SW common room was so quiet you could probably hear a trooper drop their pad. As he took his first step into the room, a dozen or so troopers appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Their postures betrayed advanced stealth training – these weren’t poorly trained dregs. They were dressed in black and red uniforms and studied the newcomers carefully. Cassandra’s face reddened as one inspected her closely. Her hand started to tighten around his.

  “Is there a problem?” Brent addressed the one closest to Cassandra.

  With incredible speed the one in front of him attacked. A fist lashed out at his stomach. The speed of it was amazing. The fist came too quickly for him to dodge it. He barely had time to place his own hand in the path of the attack. As the two made contact, Brent could feel his emotions. It made him sick to his stomach. The SW trooper showed utter disdain for the pair. The trooper felt assured of his complete superiority over them.

  A second emotion hid beneath the surface. Revulsion. Cassandra disgusted the trooper. Brent could sense every detail of the man’s loathing for the girl at his side. The hair on the back of his neck bristled as he was filled with contempt for the vile feelings in the trooper. He noticed a green light pulse down his hand and into the trooper’s fist. The trooper instantly fell to the ground.