“Who wants me where?” I put a hand on Findley’s shoulder. “You look frantic. Calm down.”
Findley shook my hand away. “Follow me. Quick.” He rubbed the crown of his head as he walked down the corridor.
“You know what you need?” I told him. “To rub baby oil on your head. Make that dome shine. Own your baldness.” The tufts of red hair on the back and sides of Findley’s head served to make him look more bald rather than less.
“I don’t have time for your jokes.” Findley continued rubbing his head, his short legs moving rapidly. Findley's small size and comic appearance meant he would have made a great circus performer. I considered telling him that but restrained myself. He had no sense of humor and might have taken it the wrong way.
Findley opened the door to a meeting room. “He’s here,” he announced.
I followed him in, then stopped dead, upon seeing... no, it couldn’t be. What was the mayor of Lusteer doing in a Transkey meeting room waiting for me? But it was him, Mayor Maxwell, the man who’d proclaimed the existence of supernaturals in front of the world that weekend.
It took a moment for my eyes to focus beyond the mayor and take in the other occupants. When I did so, I grabbed the nearest chair and plumped myself down on it. Also in the room were Sash, Harriet Ashley, and Alex. I averted my gaze from Alex—I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since I’d admitted that I was responsible for his parents death.
Then I noticed that the mayor was holding out his hand for me to shake. I jerked back to my feet, and grabbed his hand in both of mine, and I shook it vigorously. “Sorry, Mr Mayor, sir. Very brave what you did in front of the cameras. Speaking out like you did. Can’t have been easy.”
When the mayor was able to retrieve his hand back from me, he addressed Harriet Ashley. “This is the person we have been waiting for?”
He looked me up and down, his expression making me very aware that everyone was dressed in business-wear except me. I wore my usual black T-shirt, black jeans, leather jacket. All of Findley’s objections had never made me embarrassed about my clothes, but that one look from the mayor did.
“What am I doing here?” I asked. “Actually what is everyone doing here?” My head hurt trying to figure out what was going on. Why would Alex, Harriet, Sash, Findley, the mayor, and I all be together in a crummy meeting room in Transkey on a Monday morning?
Harriet Ashley was CEO of Transkey, but she was also the leader of the Whites, a crime gang now overrun with shades. Mayor Maxwell may have just publicly acknowledged the existence of shades, but it was still a leap to see him working with Harriet. Sash had just arrived in the city; how would she even know any of these people? Alex should have been in school. It made up a jigsaw puzzle which didn’t fit together.
“Should we get started?” Harriet asked.
Mayor Maxwell started to sit, then raised his wrist to check his watch. “I have another meeting at ten. Do you need me for anything urgent?”
“No, but your input—” Findley began.
“Check with my office later then.” The mayor immediately left, and Findley turned to glare at me.
Like it was my fault—I didn’t even know what was going on. I sat down at a seat next to Sash and whispered to her, “How come you didn’t tell me about this yesterday evening?”
“I didn’t realize you needed to reason to be on time for work. I thought that would be automatic,” she whispered back.
Harriet waited impatiently for us to stop speaking. “Can we finally get started? We don’t need the mayor’s direct involvement, he has already given his broad approval.”
“I agree.” Findley took a seat beside Harriet.
“We’ll just discuss initial requirements today, make sure everyone knows their roles,” Harriet said. “We can go into further detail later in the week.”
“Make sure everyone is on the same page,” Findley agreed.
“Same page? I’m not even in the same library,” I said. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”
“We are building a prison,” Findley said.
“In case you are confused, a library is for holding books and a prison is for holding criminals,” Sash told me.
“A prison?” That created more questions than it answered. “Why a prison? Why us?”
“In light of recent developments, the mayor has authorized the building of a new prison here in Lusteer,” Harriet said.
“Why Transkey?” The company was diverse in its operations, but it certainly didn’t specialize in construction, and prison construction seemed a further step in specialization.
“Transkey has a track record in delivery of quality projects on time,” Findley said.
Findley had a track record at corporate bullshit. Why Transkey wasn’t the most important question, though; it was Why a prison? When Harriet had referenced recent events, she must have meant the mayor’s announcement. “This isn’t an ordinary prison, is it?”
“No, of course not,” Harriet said. “It’s a prison designed to hold shades.”
I remembered Walker’s jet. “Titanium shielding?”
“Of course. And other precautions,” Harriet said.
“Why would you be part of this?” I asked her. “You are...” I didn’t know that she was a shade, but she was involved with them. “Wouldn’t those in your less legitimate operations be the first to be thrown into this prison?”
She gave me a cold look. “All of my operations that straddle the border of law, are being phased out. I have always believed in shades coming out of the shadows. Part of that is the shades accepting they don’t have to hide, and part of it is educating the rest of the population not to fear the unknown.”
“Acceptance and education are nice and all, but what has that to do with a prison?” I asked. If I was educating people about shades based on my experience, I would be teaching them fear.
“A healthy society requires the criminal elements to be controlled,” Harriet said. “The public will fear them less when they realize that criminal shades are locked up in the same way that ordinary criminals are. That’s why having a prison inside Lusteer City is important as a public reminder that the authorities remain in control of the situation.”
“I guess the shades also might be less likely to be criminals if they fear imprisonment,” I said. Though I wouldn’t bet on that happening. Their ability gave them power over others. “Might.”
“That reminds me of a crucial point,” Harriet said. “The early stages of this project requires the utmost secrecy. Some shades will undoubtedly feel threatened by the building of this prison. Once the titanium shielding and full security are in place, it will hopefully be impregnable. However, in the early stages, the prison will be extremely vulnerable to sabotage.”
“Anyone in particular you are worried about?” I asked. I had killed Yarley, but I knew his protege, Heff, had taken over the Reds.
“If no one knows about it, then we don’t have to worry about anyone,” Alex answered for Harriet. “Listen. We aren’t making any progress. Perhaps we should meet again tomorrow when everyone is up to speed.”
Harriet nodded. “You are probably right. Let’s just review our individual assignments and get back together when things are more clear.”
“Wait. Let’s just establish our roles first,” I said. Things were beginning to make sense. The mayor had commissioned a prison to keep the shades under control, and Transkey was to build it. I wasn’t surprised that the sentinel order would be happy to help with imprisoning shades, which explained Sash. I still couldn’t figure out why Transkey was chosen and what Alex was doing here.
“Findley is going to lead the new division of Transkey that will build the prison,” Harriet said. “Ms. Huff will be in charge of security for the operation. Rune, you will be assisting Ms. Huff with security while also being in charge of I.T.”
“I’m not qualified for that.” Setting up the I.T. infrastructure for the prison was a huge step up from what I was presently
doing.
“I’m sure you are up to the task,” Harriet said. “Findley has told me glowing things about your performance.”
I glanced across at Findley, who looked as shocked as I felt. “What about Alex?” I asked. “What’s his role?”
“He’ll be Findley’s executive assistant for this project,” Harriet said.
“You’re kidding, right?” I looked across at Alex. Despite a shiny black suit and a black pencil tie, his youth was undeniable. He looked like a kid dressed up in his father’s clothes. Alex stared at me challengingly and I averted my gaze.
“Alex has worked closely with me over the last six months, really impressing me with his workrate and talent,” Harriet said.
“But he’s only—”
“I know I’m only nineteen,” Alex said smoothly. “But I will work twice as hard to make up for my lack of experience.”
“Did you say nineteen?” He was fifteen. No, that wasn’t right. I had missed a birthday; he was sixteen.
“Yes, nineteen,” Alex said. “I don’t see that as an obstacle. You are only twenty, right?”
He had me there. I was eighteen, but my faked documentation listed me as twenty. I wasn’t the only one who could fake my age.
Harriet stood up. “Let’s get to work then. Findley and Rune’s new roles within the company will start immediately, and I’ll get onto HR to do the paperwork for hiring Alex Collier and Sash Huff as contractors.”
Findley was first to his feet, opening the door for Harriet. Alex followed after them, but I grabbed his wrist to stop him. “We have to talk.”
“Let go of me,” Alex growled.
I had stopped my scooter in front of Gorlam’s dozens of times in the last two months, but had never been brave enough to go inside and talk to Alex or Jo. “If we are going to work together, we’ll have to talk. I have never had a chance to explain.”
“Ten months of living in the same room, and you didn’t once get a chance, right?” Alex said. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard enough lies from you to last a lifetime. The only thing I want to hear from you is the specifications for the servers we’ll need for the prison.”
Alex shook off my hand and walked out. I turned around to see Sash watching me. “Problem?” she asked.
“No problem.” Since the sentinel order had clearly been keeping tabs on me—Walker mentioned a file he’d read—she probably knew already about my relationship with Alex. “What about Gorlam’s,” I asked. “I thought you were mainly here because of what’s happening there?” Alex’s presence here surely meant that he and Jo hadn’t been caught up in whatever was going on. That was good news at least.
“We’ll go there after you are finished here,” Sash said. “I’ll collect you outside at seven.”
“Seven? That’s two hours after work.”
“The only thing I learned this morning was that you have a lot of catching up to do on your work.”
Chapter 8
Monday 19:40
By the time that Sash finally pulled up outside Transkey, I’d already considered leaving half a dozen times. She drove up in a white two-seater Porsche Boxster with the top down, and the brakes screeched as she shuddered to a stop in front of me.
Strands of her black hair had been blown over the headrest. Her skin shone translucent white in the streetlights. My stomach gave a lurch as I was reminded how attractive I found her.
“Get in,” she said.
“You’re late.”
“I’m here now. You coming or not?”
I opened the door and slid in. It was a tight squeeze. “What’s with the toy car?” I asked.
“Is that jealousy I hear?” She revved the accelerator a few times, then released the clutch. The wheels spun, and the Porsche sprang forward.
I grabbed hold of the sides of the seat. “Give me a chance to put on my seat-belt!” I shouted.
She grinned. “We’re sentinels!” she shouted back.
It was true that we’d likely heal from a car crash, but still. “I just flew for the first time in a plane yesterday. I don’t want to experiment in flying without it just yet.”
Sash pointed at her ears to indicate she couldn’t hear, then shifted gear, accelerated and overtook the car in front of us.
“You drive stick!” I shouted. “Nice! Where did you get it?” She breezed into Lusteer and a day later was in meetings with the mayor and driving around in a Porsche.
“A rental!” she shouted, downshifting and weaving into the left lane, then back two lanes to overtake several cars on the inside. Sash had been humorless more often than not since we’d met, but there was no sign of that now. Her vitality was infectious, and I grinned at her, running my hand through my windswept hair. It was almost as fun as riding a motorcycle, not that I had much experience of that. Riding a scooter was up there with traveling via bus in terms of raw enjoyment.
I stopped trying to have a conversation, instead just enjoying the feeling of acceleration, the roar of rushing air in my ears, and the envious glances of the passersby. They probably assume Sash is my girlfriend, I thought, and perhaps even that I own the Porsche.
No one thinks that, Jerome thought. Even in the dark, they can all read the words "loser virgin" printed across your forehead.
I ignored him, unwilling to let Jerome ruin my mood. When Sash started down the driveway into Gorlam’s, though, my smile didn’t last long. The orphanage always had a depressing effect on me, and now that Alex and Jo had returned there, the guilt of what I had done to them only added to that effect.
The headlamps of the Porsche lit up sections of the large gray building as Sash turned into the parking lot. When she shut off the engine and the lights went out, Gorlam’s returned to being a hulking mass of looming darkness. The lack of engine noise created an oppressive silence. The grounds of Gorlam’s weren’t that extensive, but they were big enough to isolate the place, reducing the city noise to a distant buzz.
Sash put one hand on the top of the door, one hand on the back of her seat and somersaulted out of her seat, landing beside the car.
Beelzebub. “What was that about?”
“You know,” she said. “Sentinel stuff.”
I guessed I should be experimenting with my abilities too. Extraordinary speed and reflexes had helped me in the fight with Yarley, but since then I hadn’t used those abilities. When Alex and Jo had left me, I had turned against the idea of using sentinel powers. However, my situation had changed dramatically in the last two days. Walker and the order had made it clear that I had to fight, so I needed to figure out what I was capable of.
Mimicking what Sash had done, I put one hand on the side of the door and one hand on the back of the seat. I pulled my knees back so they wouldn’t catch on the front of the car, then sprang upward with my feet.
My legs flew higher and faster than I expected. I pushed upward with my hands, struggling to rotate my body. I just about managed to get my feet to touch the ground, but as I did so, my face smashed against the side of the car, knocking me backward.
I slammed on the tarmac, the back of my head hitting the ground hard. Everything went black. When I managed to refocus, Sash stood over me, holding out her hand. “Stop messing around,” she said. “We have work to do.”
I groaned, rubbing the back of my head, then I let her help me up. “That was tougher than it looked. You must have practiced.”
“I trust in my ability.”
“Which of us would win if we ever had to fight?” I asked.
“I’d totally kick your ass,” Sash said. “Don’t think that because you are a man, you’d have any advantages. One of the best things about sentinel powers is that it evens out the strength and speed advantage men normally have. And I’m more experienced than you. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I don’t know about that.” I remembered how easily she had held me off when I’d tried to help Bobbit, and I failed to come up with any good arguments in support of my prowess. So i
nstead I changed tack. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. Sentinels shouldn’t be fighting each other. We are on the same side.” When she had talked about killing me on the plane ride, she had to be joking. I just wanted some confirmation of that.
Sash snorted. “You saw what happened to your friend Bobbit.”
“He wasn’t my friend,” I said, then immediately felt bad. I hadn’t even liked Bobbit, but he had protected me, and perhaps lost his life as a result. “I should have done more to save him.”
Sash led the across the parking lot toward Gorlam’s. “Plus, we are presently pursuing a rogue sentinel. When we find him, we will have to kill him. Because sentinels are more dangerous than shades, the order must hold us to a higher standard.” She glanced across at me. “And you know you are under a stay of execution. If you can’t keep your magic under control, I will fulfill my duties.”
My grin faltered. “No reason we can’t be friends in the meantime. Or friendly at least.”
“Of course. I just don’t want you to be deceived about the state of affairs. Holiday was genuinely good friends with Dashel. But ultimately...”
“The greater good,” I said.
“The greater good,” she repeated.
The concept was being drilled into me by the order, but no one was clearly defining it. Why did I get the feeling I was going to get on the wrong end of a bad interpretation before long?
I know why, Jerome said. It’s because you are ruled by your emotions.
Thanks.
It wasn’t a compliment, Jerome thought. You are ruled by your emotions the way six year old girls are.
Oh, so you were insulting me? I’m surprised. That’s a new one from you, I thought.
What were you saying about sarcasm earlier? Lowest form of wit, right? Jerome thought. Oh, and Sash will so kick your ass when you have to fight her.
What do you mean ‘when’?
Actions guided by emotions, remember. Six year old girls. Sheesh. Keep up.
Chapter 9
Monday 20:15
“What’s keeping you now?” Sash was standing at main entrance to Gorlam’s, pressing the buzzer.
Fire Summoning (The Sentinels Book 2) Page 4