Relativity

by R S Penney

  Fortunately, Col had made himself an asset to one of the most powerful women in Leyrian Space, and one of the perks of that association was access to military-grade tech. This little device could overpower most security systems.

  Col stepped back.

  A tap at the screen of his multi-tool caused the device to send out an EM pulse, and sparks flashed around the window pane as sensors and force-field generators exploded. Lights came on inside the house, and the alarm began to sound. Bleakness! His actions had triggered the security system.

  He strode forward and seized the disk from the window, then drew a gun and fired several rounds into the glass. With the window shattered, he carefully climbed through to what appeared to be a rec room.

  A gray couch faced the window on the other side of a coffee table, and there were a few shelves along the wall with various knickknacks on each one. To his left, a set of steps led up to a kitchen.

  Pulling the hood of his sweater up over his head, Col frowned down at the floor. I have to be quick about this, he thought, striding toward the steps. The police will be here in less than ten minutes.

  The kitchen was a spacious room with sleek, stainless steel cupboards and a glossy black refrigerator. Blinds on the window over the sink fluttered in the cool breeze; that one had been left open a crack.

  He found another set of stairs that led up to the second floor where a hallway with carpeted floors stretched on for maybe ten paces. Each wall had exactly one door, and the professor had left them open a crack, revealing a linen closet at the end of the corridor and a small bathroom on his right.

  Col opened the door on his left to find a bedroom that was kept neat and tidy with a few throw pillows on the bed. A wooden desk in the corner was bare except for a tablet that had been switched off.

  There was no one here!

  Baring his teeth in a snarl, Col let his head hang. He covered his face with a gloved hand. “All that for nothing!” he growled, spinning around. “The man picks tonight of all nights to be away from home!”

  He ran.

  Back downstairs, into the rec-room and out the window. He didn't make his way back to the street; instead, he sprinted through the backyard and charged down the gently-sloping hill behind the house.

  Col winced, droplets of sweat rolling over his face. “Bleakness take me!” he said, tossing his head about in frustration. “This better be worth it, Isara. Because the price of my assistance just doubled.”

  At the base of the hill, he found a chain-link fence, and beyond it, an open field between this set of houses and those of the next street over. Far off in the distance, the skyscrapers of Calinar stabbed the night sky.

  Lifting his fist, he tapped at the screen of his multi-tool. Nanobots emerged from the tiny metal disk, shaping themselves into a blade roughly twice the length of his hand. The software that allowed them to do so was illegal – you had to hack a multi-tool to give it the ability to fabricate weapons – but friendship with Isara had its perks.

  He sliced through the fence with ease – the blade was sharp enough to allow it – and ducked through the opening.

  Chapter 11

  Like most others he had been in, the police station in Manchester, Tennessee had a bland feeling. Long hallways of white walls and wooden doors, officers shuffling about with their heads down. Harry felt right at home and also completely unwelcome. It was a strange sensation.

  He wore a gray suit with a purple shirt as he strode through the corridor, sliding his sunglasses into place. “Excuse me,” he said, stopping the twelfth officer he passed. “I'm looking for room 23-B.”

  The man looked up at him with lips pressed into a thin line, studying Harry as if he had just sprouted horns. “Second-last door on your right,” he said, jerking his head in that direction. Cordial but forced. Harry supposed it was the best he could hope for.

  He walked on.

  As he passed through the door, he found a large room with an oval-shaped table, a room where half a dozen uniformed officers sat in the wan light that came in through the blinds on the windows. He could size up a cop's attitude simply by watching the man's posture, and this bunch…They were all grizzled men in their late thirties or early forties, and he was willing to bet that most were fed up with their jobs. That didn't bode well. A cop who was just counting the days until his pension had lost interest in justice as an abstract concept. If he'd ever had it. As expected, every last one of them was white.

  The school principal was a pale man in a dark blue suit: a man who wore his hair parted to the side and kept his glasses pressed up against his face. Next to him, Harry saw a woman with long blonde hair. A guidance counselor unless he missed his guess.

  And then there was Anna.

  She leaned against the wall with her arms folded, dressed in gray pants and a black, short-sleeved blouse. Her bright red hair was tied back in a short little ponytail. Did she notice the dynamic here? A bunch of white people deciding the fate of a black kid.

  The only person of colour in this room was obviously Kevin's father, and that man was about as relaxed as a deer who had just run straight into the middle of a wolf pack. He sat with hands folded over his stomach, trying not to look at anything.

  The lead officer shot a glance in Harry's direction. “Who might you be?” he asked in that terse voice cops always developed. “This meeting is closed to the public.”

  Harry smiled, then bowed his head to the man. “I'm your liaison to the Keepers,” he said, approaching the table. “You'll forgive me for saying so, but I think you boys could use a fresh perspective.”

  “He's legit,” Anna said.

  Harry took an empty chair without being asked, leaning back and heaving out a deep breath. “Well, let's get started then,” he said. “I've been briefed on the latest incident at the school.”

  The lead officer bit his lip, hanging his head as he looked over his papers. “We're thinking about calling in the FBI,” he began. “This one is just too big for a small town police department.”

  Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, Anna shook her head in disgust. “That's unnecessary,” she replied in a breathy hiss. “You already have all the help you need, Lieutenant Biggs. I'm trained to handle these situations.”

  “With respect, Agent Lenai, you haven't exactly handled it thus far.”

  “Because your people don't follow orders.”

  For a moment, Harry considered intervening, but he'd known Anna long enough to know that when her righteous fury was hot, you had to let it burn itself out. Besides, the girl had a point. But for the itchy trigger fingers of a few idiots, this situation would have been resolved by now.

  “The school board is concerned,” Principal Jensen chimed in, even though no one had addressed him. “These incidents on school property put the lives of students at risk. I've been told to inform you that we expect a speedy resolution to this conflict.”

  Well, that settled it then!

  One of the officers lifted a mug to his lips and slurped as he sipped his coffee. He turned his attention to the principal. “I say we bring in a TAC team. Next time we go up against this kid, we have snipers ready.”

  “Excuse me!” Trevor Harmon was on his feet on the blink of an eye, standing with his fists clenched. Sweat glistened on his flushed face. “You're talking about my son. If you think I'm going to stand by-”

  “We're talking about a boy with the power to swat armed men like flies,” the officer cut in. “This boy is a danger to anyone who crosses his path. Now, we must consider all possible options before we make a decision.”

  Anna strode forward with fists clenched at her sides, pausing next to the man who had spoken. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” she said, fixing a death-glare on the back of his head. “This case is under Leyrian jurisdiction, which means Leyrian laws apply. You hurt that kid, and I will hunt you down like a dog.

  “I'll see to it that you're charged with murder, and you will stand trial in a Leyrian c
ourt where, I can assure you, you will find no sympathy. Do we understand each other, Officer Hendricks?”

  “Perfectly…Ma'am.”

  In all the years, he'd known her, Harry would never have described his friendship with Anna as anything more than cordial, but right then, he loved her like a daughter. Her stubborn insistence on following her own personal code no matter what anyone thought could be one of her most infuriating qualities, but when she took a stand on principle, it was a glorious thing to behold.

  Principal Jensen pressed a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Regardless,” he said, swiveling nervously in his chair. “Young Kevin represents a threat to the safety of our community. The school board-”

  “Which member of the school board?”

  “Hmm?”

  Anna glanced over her shoulder, thin strands of red hair falling over her face. “I'd like to know which member of the school board is pressing for action,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Is it Simmons?”

  The principal went red, then lowered his eyes to stare into his lap. “It was a joint decision by all of them…” He slid his chair closer to the table. “You need to understand the value parents place on-”

  “I understand perfectly well.”

  Lieutenant Biggs spun to face Harry with teeth bared in a snarl. “You're supposed to be our go-between,” he said, gesticulating. “Can you possibly convince her to settle down and see sense?”

  “Could you be any more condes-”

  “Anna,” Harry broke in. “Give me a moment.” The lieutenant heaved out a sigh of relief, and it was clear that he thought Harry was going to press for diplomacy. There was a time and place for diplomacy – sometimes it was necessary to smooth things over and get everyone back on track – but this wasn't it.

  Pressing his lips together, Harry closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “You want to know what I think, Lieutenant?” he asked, standing up to give his words a little more gravitas.

  “I think that the last ten years have seen a startling increase in the number of young black men shot dead by police officers. I think guns are a source of comfort to racist men who have no business wearing a badge, and now that one of these kids has demonstrated the ability render your weapons useless, you're panicking. You want to escalate this, to reassert your control.”

  That left everyone speechless.

  Anna walked around the table with her head down, heaving out a deep breath. “In case you've forgotten, you're on this case as a courtesy,” she said. “And I've just decided that courtesy is no longer appropriate.”

  She whirled around to face them with her arms crossed, raising her chin to stare down her nose at the lot of them. “As of right now, you're off this investigation. All of you. If you see Kevin Harmon, you call me, but you are not to engage for any reason except to protect civilians.”

  Harry leaned back with fingers laced over his chest, frowning at the ceiling. “I guess you won't be needing a liaison,” he said, eyebrows rising. “So, what's your next move, Agent Lenai?”

  “I'm gonna find that kid,” she said, “and get that damn thing off his hand.”

  Harry stared into his mug of coffee and watched his faint reflection ripple as he blew on the surface of the dark liquid. It was a little too warm for a hot beverage, but he really needed a caffeine fix.

  This little coffee shop was empty except for a young man who stood behind the counter, cleaning the cake display with a cloth. Out the window, he saw cars rushing by on a busy city street.

  Anna sat across from him with her elbow on the table, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. “What you said back there,” she began. “About these cops being motivated by bigoted fears? Is that really what it's about?”

  Harry closed his eyes, sweat prickling on his forehead. He let his head hang and chose his words with care. “It's a problem on this world. Cops tend to assume that people who look like me are dangerous.”

  Anna growled.

  Tilting his head back, Harry narrowed his eyes. “This isn't something you were prepared for,” he muttered, staring at the roof. “Anna, it's a reality that I have to live with every day.”

  She sat with arms crossed, hunched over so that he could only see the top of her head. “I knew race was a part of this,” she hissed. “These cops had a bad attitude from the very start, but I never thought it would motivate them to kill.”

  “You were expecting some degree of integrity.”

  “Yes.”

  Harry brought the mug to his lips and slurped as he took a sip. He set it back down on the table. “Here's the sad reality, Anna. The egalitarian attitudes that your people take so much pride in were the result of centuries of struggle, and I'm willing to bet that if you scratch the surface, you'll find traces of those old prejudices in most people.”

  Anna winced so hard her cheeks turned red, but she nodded just the same. “You're probably right,” she mumbled. “So now I have to finish this assignment alone.”

  “Not alone. You have me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Harry smiled, then rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “Not sure if this means anything to you,” he said softly. “But I think Kevin's extremely lucky that you're the one working this case.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  Anna looked up at the ceiling with her lips pursed, blinking as she considered the question. “The same thing we always do when an investigation hits a dead end. Go right back to square one.”

  He got up and shoved his hands into his pockets, standing before her with his head down. “Good luck with that,” he said with a nod. “I think I'll go back to the police station and make sure they stay out of your hair.”

  “You really wanna put up with that hassle?”

  “No,” Harry admitted. “But I think it would do good for some of them to get used to taking orders from a black man. Might actually shake loose a few of their prejudices.”

  “Good luck.”

  “You too.”

  Amanda Simmons sat on a swing in a playground, clutching the chains with both hands. The girl was lovely in a white dress with lace on the sleeves, her hair left loose to fall over her shoulders.

  Tracking her down had required some effort. With no other options, Anna went back to the school to interview anyone who might be able to give her some insight. Her instincts said that Amanda knew more than she let on. One of the students, a young man in the Christian Fellowship club, told her that Amanda sometimes went to the park near her home to read.

  Anna stood in the grass in blue jeans and a matching t-shirt, the wind teasing her hair. So sad, she noted as she watched the girl. Something's not right here, and I think I detect the father's scent.

  Amanda turned her head to smile at the young children who were squealing with delight as they ran through the playground. One of them, a young boy with short blonde hair, threw his hands up as he came down the slide.

  Approaching cautiously, Anna heaved out a deep breath. “So I was hoping we could talk,” she said as she neared the swings. “I didn't really have a chance to get to know you the other day.”

  Amanda looked up at her with big brown eyes that widened at the sight of her. “My dad doesn't want me to talk to you,” she murmured. “He says you're part of the world. A temptation.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I don't understand.”

  Anna forced her lips into a thin smile. She bowed her head and let out a soft sigh. “You're almost eighteen, Amanda. That's an adult in this country. You're going to have to start making decisions for yourself.”

  The girl shivered.

  Anna spun around and took the swing next to her, gripping the chains as Amanda did. There had to be something she could say to get through. “You've heard about what happened the other day? When we tried to help Kevin?”

  Amanda winced, tears running down her cheek. She scrubbed them away with the bac
k of her hand. “I heard about it. Kevin's nice. He's funny. He doesn't deserve to have people shooting at him.”

  “Now, there we agree.”

  “You're going to help him?”

  “I'm gonna try,” Anna replied. “But if I'm going to help him, I'll need all the information I can get, and something tells me you haven't been totally honest.”

  For a very long moment, Amanda was still. Then she pushed herself on the swing and began a slow, gentle arc. “I just don't want anything to happen to Kevin,” she said. “He's nice.”

  “You like him.”

  “What?”

  Anna glanced over her shoulder with a stone-faced expression, the hot sun warming her skin. “Why didn't I see it sooner?” she whispered. “You've developed a little crush on Kevin, haven't you?”

  The girl stopped herself by skidding her shoes in the sand. A shudder escaped her as she stood up. “He's just a nice boy!” Amanda squeaked. “I…I don't like him that way, but I don't want anything bad to happen to him.”

  “Amanda, why are you lying to me?” Suddenly, she remembered her conversation with Harry. When she tried to think of reasons why Amanda might feel the need to hide her feelings for a “nice boy” like Kevin, only one thing came to mind.

  But it didn't add up.

  This girl displayed no outward signs of that kind of bigotry. It was possible that she hid it well, but Amanda seemed to be a gentle flower. Anna didn't think she was capable of harbouring negative thoughts about anyone.

  The girl stood with her back turned, trembling as she struggled to express herself. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm not allowed to feel that. When the time is right, my father will arrange a courtship.”

  Clenching her teeth, Anna stared down into her lap. The heat in her face was hard to ignore. “Right because your father's wishes are the ones that matter,” she hissed. “It's your life, Amanda. You have every right to love whomever you want.”