by R S Penney
“But-”
“No sensors are so precise that they can find a single individual among tens of thousands.” She let out a soft sigh, trying to contain her frustration. “We can scan for thermal signatures, electrical signatures, radio signals, but we are not omniscient.”
A low groan escaped the other woman, and she hung her head, grabbing two fistfuls of her own hair. “I understand,” she said with forced emotional composure. “Do whatever you can. If Kevin shows up here, we'll call you.”
It wasn't very hard to figure out what Miss Sutherland was thinking; no doubt she blamed herself for not being there when Kevin dug up the device. Anna felt nothing but sympathy, but she had no time to indulge the woman's guilt. “What about the girl?” she asked. “Principal Jensen said there was a girl working on the project. I believe her name is Amanda.”
“She went home.”
“Why?”
Miss Sutherland looked up with sweat glistening on her face. “Amanda was a little frightened,” she explained. “She didn't get a good look at whatever Kevin had dug up, but his reaction scared her. We called her father, and he insisted that she be excused for the rest of the day.”
Anna got out of her chair, folding her arms as she stood over the other woman. “All right then,” she said with a quick bob of her head. “I'd like to talk with Amanda. Can you give me her address?”
“I'd advise against it.”
“Why's that?”
“The girl's father is a school board trustee with some very conservative opinions. He dislikes Leyrians; he sees you as foreigners interfering in Earth's affairs. I doubt he'll let you speak to Amanda.” And there were no legal grounds for Anna to enter the man's house. Brilliant. Finding out what Amanda knew, even if it was very little, was crucial, but if the girl's father stood in the way…Perhaps it would be best to wait until tomorrow. Amanda would be back at school, and Anna could speak to her without fear of any parental obstructions.
“I recommend talking to the other students,” Miss Sutherland went on. “Some of them are friends with Kevin. They may have some insights.”
Taking the woman's suggestion proved to be a fruitless enterprise. She interviewed several students who were often seen with Kevin Harmon, but none of them were able to tell her anything specific, and one young man who couldn't be more than two months shy of graduation decided to try his luck by hitting on her. There were days when a Keeper's youthful face was more curse than blessing.
After finding nothing of value at the school, she decided her next move would be to check in with the local police department. If there was a piece of Overseer tech wreaking havoc in this town, the authorities deserved to know. Anna wondered how the citizens of Manchester Tennessee would react to that tidbit of news. Hopefully they would display a little more sense than Miss Sutherland had.
A long hallway with doors in the wall to her left stretched through the police station to the front lobby, and one of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling flickered. The scent of floor cleanser was quite strong.
Officer Bruce Smith was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark blue uniform, a handsome fellow who wore a cap over his dark hair. “Who did you say this kid was?” he asked, pausing in the middle of the hallway. “We see a lot of teenagers around here.”
He spun around to face Anna.
Lifting her forearm, she tapped a button on her multi-tool to reload the image of Kevin's yearbook picture. The hologram rippled into existence between them, oriented so that cop could see him clearly.
Smith winced, tossing his head back. “Yeah I've seen him,” he said, tucking both thumbs into his pants as he backed away from her. “The kid hangs out with a bad crowd. I've arrested a couple of his friends for petty theft.”
“Does Kevin himself have any priors?”
“No. But it's only a matter of time.”
Anna held his gaze for a moment, then narrowed her eyes to slits. “That sounds like a bad attitude,” she said, shaking her head. “Tell me, Officer, have you ever heard the term 'self-fulfilling prophecy?' ”
Baring his teeth with a hiss, the man shut his eyes tight. “Look, Agent Lenai, you can play Little Miss Idealist all you want.” The disdain in his tone made his feelings on that issue perfectly clear. “But those of us who live here have to accept certain realities.”
“Do you know where Kevin is? Yes or no?”
The officer crossed his arms and spun to face the corridor wall. He let out a growl of frustration. “There's a skate park on Emerson Street,” he said at last. “Kevin and his friends like to hang out there.”
“Thank you.”
The bowl of vegetable soup that sat upon a red tablecloth, sending waves of steam into the air, looked positively delicious, but Anna had no desire to consume even a single spoonful of it. Her stomach was tied in knots by worry and frustration, and it had killed her appetite. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Seth scolded her.
Across from her, Bradley sat in an ornate chair, looking positively dapper in a dark button-up shirt with short sleeves. His jaw was lined with dark stubble, and his black hair was gelled into spikes.
She paused for a moment, scanning the periphery for something to talk about that would take her mind off this latest case. Their small table was located at the edge of a patio with a wooden railing, and to her right, she saw a four-lane road with cars rushing in both directions under a starry sky. What kind of a name was US-41? It was like the town had never gotten around to naming this street.
Bradley shut his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. “You're not even going to finish your soup?” he asked, sliding closer to the table. “I know you like to play Super-Girl, but I'm pretty sure you need sustenance.”
Anna felt her lips curl, thin strands of hair framing her face. She tossed her head to send one flying back over her ear. “I'm just not very hungry. But thank you for coming all the way down here to see me!”
“And if I point out that I paid for the meal?”
She took a spoonful of soup and popped it in her mouth, savouring the taste. They used a little too much spice in her opinion, but it was still good. That seemed to appease him for the moment.
Bradley sat forward, leaning in close to smile at her. “So, you gonna tell me what you're doing all the way down here in Tennessee? Or do I have to guess.”
Dabbing her mouth with a napkin, Anna closed her eyes. “Sorry. You know how it goes,” she said, scooching closer. “I'm down here on Keeper business. I can't be any more specific than that.”
“It's all right.”
Anna slouched in her chair with a grunt, tossing her head back to look up at the sky. “No it's not,” she muttered. “I know it's hard, me keeping you in the dark, but trust me, I want to tell you.”
His grin was infectious, and he bowed his head to stare into his lap. “We're good,” he said with a curt nod. “I get it. This is price of admission for dating Secret Agent Girl. So, are you coming home tonight?”
“No. I need to stay here and get an early start tomorrow.” A thought occurred to her, one that filled her with mischievous glee. “You could stay with me. We could have crazy hotel sex.”
Pressing a fist to his mouth, Bradley cleared his throat. The slight flush in his face only made her want to press the point. He was just so damn cute when he was dying of embarrassment. “I love how you're not afraid to say it out loud.”
Chewing on her lip, Anna rolled her eyes at the starry sky. “No point in hiding it,” she muttered with a touch of exasperation. “Seriously. Take me up on this. Otherwise I'm gonna have to convince the waiter to have crazy hotel sex, and I am not willing to do any more work today.”
“Well…So long as it prevents you from doing work.”
It was the Anna Lenai guarantee; stick with her long enough, and she'd eventually say something that left you flustered and embarrassed in a public setting. Perhaps she should have been sorry, but she liked her candor, and she suspected that Bradley liked it too. Right t
hen, the only thing she felt was exhaustion and a desire to take her mind off the wretched day she had experienced.
Trees rose up like shadows all around him, black against the darkness of a clear night with a crescent moon in the starry sky. The soft chirping of crickets should have been soothing, but every noise seemed to put him on edge.
Kevin sat with his knees drawn up against his chest, his back pressed to a tall tree in the small patch of woodland behind his school. He'd been on the move all day, unable to stay still. On some level he couldn't fully understand, he knew that if anybody found him, they would take it away from him. He couldn't let that happen; so he turned off his phone and kept moving.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Kevin thumped the back of his head against the tree trunk. “This is nuts,” he whispered to himself. “You can't be on the run forever. Sooner or later, you gotta eat.”
He'd stopped at a sandwich shop for five minutes to grab some supper and use the restroom. The whole time, he had been afraid that someone would notice the ball in his jacket pocket. No one had paid him any mind, thank god, but that didn't stop him from getting the hell out of there as soon as he could. He could keep this up for a few days, but eventually he would run out of money.
He held the ball in the palm of his hand, marveling at the warmth. This thing was alive; he could feel it. It hadn't done anything out of the ordinary since that brief flash of light when he first held it, but somehow he knew it was special. Ancient and powerful. Most importantly, it was his.
The ball unfolded, becoming a flat sheet again and then conforming to the shape of his hand. Kevin felt the soft prickle of a million tiny barbs digging into his skin, setting his nerve-endings ablaze with new sensations.
It was like a second layer of skin.
Breathing deeply through his gaping mouth, Kevin closed his eyes. “No…” he said, scraping a fist across his forehead to wipe sweat away. “What the hell are you? What are you doing to me?”
The…thing – whatever it was – made its presence known to him. It was like a new limb that he could control as easily as he could move his arms and legs. The knowledge of what to do was there in his mind.
Kevin thrust his hand out.
The air before his open palm began to ripple and shimmer like heat rising up from black pavement on a hot July day. Then it sped forward and hit a tree with enough force to crack the trunk and send the whole thing toppling over.
The noise it kicked up was awful. Anyone within half a mile would have heard that as surely as they would have heard a lightning strike. He had to leave! If they found him, they would try to take it from him.
Kevin got up and ran.
Chapter 4
Harry stepped through his front door to find his eldest daughter at the far end of their galley-style kitchen, sitting at the table with headphones on while she typed on her laptop. The instant he saw her, a surge of anxiety flared up inside him. The two of them had been fighting a lot lately, and though he tried to avoid any confrontations, somehow the tension just kept building. Every conversation was a minefield.
Melissa winced, rubbing her eyes with the back of one fist. “You had a meeting with Jena,” she said, sliding the headphones back to let them rest on her neck. “And you didn't tell me even though she asked me to be a part of this.”
Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. “No, I didn't,” he said, striding through the kitchen. “Because I'm not going to call you every time my boss asks me to stop by her office.”
The girl looked up at him with dark eyes that smoldered, trying to burn a hole in his head with her stare. She must have learned that particular trick from her mother. “I'm the one who told you about the Key.”
“You mean the Key that doesn't exist?”
Melissa went beet-red, hanging her head to avoid looking at him. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “Of course you don't think it exists,” she whispered. “If I'm the one who says it, it must be wrong.”
Harry looked up at the ceiling with his mouth agape, blinking several times. “We really don't have time for this,” he said, approaching the table. “Melissa, I just talked to your guidance counselor. She says you haven't responded to any of the schools that have accepted your application.”
“Because I'm not going.”
He sat down across from her, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. The look of fatherly disapproval he tried to project was probably no match for her stare, but he tried. “You could have a great future.”
She met his gaze with an expression that he could only call regal, and somehow, the tears only made her seem stronger. “The future I want is up on Station Twelve,” she said. “You just won't let me go.”
“I can't stop you.”
“Good. I'm glad you realize that.”
“But I'd be lying if I said that I approved of your decision. Melissa, if you become a Justice Keeper, it will cut your life in half.”
“I can accept that.”
Harry looked up at her, blinking tears out of his eyes. “I cannot accept it!” he all but shouted. “I'm not thrilled about the idea of outliving my own child, and you're too young to make such a permanent decision.”
Melissa got up with a sigh.
Turning away from him, she marched into the dining room and then up the stairs to her bedroom. Well, it seemed that was the end of their discussion for the time being. On some level, Harry knew the girl had a point – much as it pained him to admit it – and he was willing to concede that Melissa had a right to make her own choice.
This particular choice, however, was one that she could never take back. At times he wondered how the Leyrians could force such a decision on people who were barely old enough to vote. Anna was sixteen when she Bonded her Nassai. Most people changed careers several times before they found the right fit, and the Leyrians expected children to make a life-long decision.
He'd read about Keepers who had left the profession to pursue other opportunities. The Nassai were willing to experience human life in all its forms, but that didn't change the fact that once you bonded a Nassai, twenty-five became middle-aged.
What was wrong with him?
He had always insisted that he would be the kind of dad who respected his kids' choices regardless of what they were – the ones that weren't classified as stupid teenage stunts, anyway – but here he was, lecturing his daughter. Twenty years of progressive attitudes down the drain because he couldn't let go. He sat their chastising himself for the better part of half an hour.
The front door swung open to admit the very last person he wanted to see. His ex-wife stepped into the foyer, dressed in black pants and a white shirt that she left untucked. Della was still beautiful to him even after everything she had put him through.
Long blonde hair fell over her shoulders in waves, framing a pretty face with just a few fine lines. “Harry,” she said with a nod. “I get the impression that you're not exactly pleased to see me.”
Baring his teeth in an ugly snarl, Harry lowered his eyes to stare into his lap. “Don't you ever knock before entering someone's home.”
“Not when I'm invited.”
“Invited?”
Half a moment later, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and then Melissa came into the kitchen with a gym-bag slung over her shoulder. “I'm staying with Mom for a couple days,” she said, marching through the narrow aisle between the cupboards.
Harry opened his mouth to protest but decided against it. Convincing his daughter that he didn't intend to micromanage her life would require him to let her make decisions he didn't like. “All right,” he said. “Have a good time.”
Melissa left without another word.
When she was gone, his ex stood there with arms folded, frowning at him. “You still haven't learned, have you?” she asked in frosty tones. “You still have to be the white knight even when no one wants you to.”
Harry closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “I don't need a lecture from you,”
he said, sinking into his chair. “In fact, I'm willing to bet you don't even understand the first thing about this situation.”
Della wore a tight expression that he had seen far too many times when they were married. “Melissa wants to be a Justice Keeper,” she said, stepping into the kitchen. “You don't like it.”
“It'll cut her life in half.”
Tossing her head back, Della grinned up at the ceiling with such malicious glee. “Oh, poor Harry!” she mocked. “Did it ever occur to you that how someone lives their life might be more important than how many years they have?”
“Spoken like a-”
“Middle-aged woman?” she asked, cutting him off. “Believe me, I'm well aware of the limited time I have remaining, and my position is the same. Harry, you could die in a car wreck tomorrow. No one knows how much time they have. So if it turns out that you only have three years left, wouldn't you rather spend them doing something meaningful?”
She left him to chew on that.
His faint reflection in a mug of black coffee rippled as he blew on its surface, steam rising up to fill his nostrils with a delicious scent. Sadly, he couldn't bring himself to take a sip. Alcohol wasn't the only thing that Nassai disliked; caffeine was an issue as well. He could drink it – and sometimes he did – but too much would irritate Summer.
Jack remembered what it was like to enjoy a cup of coffee. In the past few years, he had consumed many, trying to recapture that feeling. It never worked. It wasn't as though Summer protested his dietary choices – she was quite content to let him live his own life in his own body – but his taste buds had changed. His body craved different food. More fresh vegetables, less sugary crap. He figured that was a good thing.
Perched on a bar stool, he watched a man in a white shirt move through the space behind the counter and select a bottle of whiskey from a shelf that was lined with every type of liquor he could imagine.
In his mind's eye, he saw the rest of this little pub, a moderately sized room with wooden tables spaced out on the floor and booths along the back wall. The clack-clack of billiard balls colliding filled his ears.