Lesser Gods

by Adrian Howell

  Wiping her tears, Alia looked into my eyes and said, “Can I go with you?”

  I stared at her in disbelief. She was dead serious.

  “You know you can’t, Alia,” I said patiently. “You’re nine years old. You’re not a Guardian, and you’re certainly not a Knight.”

  “I was there too, you know!” said Alia, most likely referring to the towboat raid.

  “I wouldn’t be going on missions myself if I hadn’t promised Terry.”

  “I don’t care. I promised I would keep you alive, remember?”

  I gave her an extra squeeze as I said, “And you have more courage than I’ll ever know, Alia, but you still can’t come.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “You’re right,” I said matter-of-factly. “It’s not fair.”

  “Addy!”

  “Okay, how about this for fair?” I grinned. “You convince Cindy to let you go, and you’re welcome to join us.”

  “That’s still not fair.”

  “Why isn’t it fair?” I asked. “Terry and I had to convince her.”

  Alia scowled, but I could tell that she knew I was right. She slowly looked away and muttered, “I hate being little. I wish I was a destroyer like you.”

  “No you don’t.”

  I picked Alia up and carried her to her bed. Tucking her in, I reflected that life was full of unfairness. Alia and I already knew that of course, but sometimes we just forgot and needed to be reminded.

  “You’ll feel better in the morning, Alia,” I told her gently.

  My sister suddenly sat up and threw her arms around my neck. “I love you, Addy.”

  I gently pushed her back into her bed. “I love you too, Alia. Now get some sleep.”

  Changing into my nightclothes and slipping into my bed, I telekinetically flipped off the room light. Heavily resting my head on my pillow, I silently stared up at the ceiling until I could hear Alia’s soft snores coming from her bed. My sister had a habit of telepathically murmuring incoherently into my head as she slept, and when that started, I finally felt calm enough to close my own eyes and try to get to sleep. Between convincing Cindy to allow Terry and me on Guardian missions and apologizing to Alia for yet another broken promise, I hadn’t even realized how wound up I was feeling about what I had just committed myself to.

  Someday soon, I would be following Terry into the psionic war.

  Chapter 3: Double-Wild-born

  I caught Terry in the hall the next morning before breakfast and briefly explained to her how my sister was feeling. To avoid adding add fuel to the fire, I begged Terry not to talk about our future Guardian missions in front of Alia. Terry took a different view of the matter.

  “Your sister wants to be a part of this, Adrian,” countered Terry. “Of course she can’t join us, but if it were entirely up to me, I’d let her come. The least you can do is keep her in the loop.”

  I thought about that for a moment, and said, “You know, Terry, you might be right for once.”

  “Of course I’m right!” snapped Terry. “You’re the only one who doesn’t like adventures, Addy.”

  Terry only ever used my baby name to mock me. I scowled at her.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Terry said brightly, “I already know Mr. Simms pretty well. He wants to talk to you, Adrian, not me. Why don’t you take Alia in my place for dinner tonight so she can get to know him too? That way, Alia won’t be left in the dark.”

  I nodded. “Alright.”

  We told Alia over breakfast. She was delighted with the idea, and Cindy seemed to regard it favorably as well.

  It being a Sunday, and a sunny one at that, at Cindy’s suggestion, all four of us went out to the park together to toss a Frisbee and have an afternoon picnic. We set our picnic mat in the same secluded clearing where I had taught Alia to fly her kite. Cindy was still being hounded by a team of dark-suited Guardian Knights wherever she went, but she ordered her security guards to stay well away as we ate and played. None of us talked about Mr. Simms or the Knights or possible upcoming missions. It was just a time to enjoy each other’s company.

  Mr. Simms lived in a different building from ours, and just before our 6pm dinner, Terry walked Alia and me over to an identical forty-story tower on the other side of the park from New Haven One.

  We stopped in front of the lobby entrance and Terry explained, “This is New Haven Four, which is also owned outright by the Guardians. Mr. Simms lives on the eleventh floor, in number three. You’ve only got five minutes to six o’clock, so you had better get jogging. Have fun, okay, Alia?”

  Alia gave Terry a toothy smile. Bidding Terry goodbye, I took my sister’s hand and quick-marched us into the building. Lobby security apparently knew our faces here too, because no one stopped us as we headed to the elevator.

  I let Alia ring the doorbell of 1103, and the door was answered by a tall, muscular man with wide shoulders and a bushy black beard. He looked a bit older than Mr. Baker, and reminded me of a grizzly bear.

  Most psionics, including myself, could sense the powers of other psionics as long as their powers were similar in nature. In my case, that meant other destroyers. And even inside a hiding bubble, I could clearly sense this man’s power now that I was standing close enough to him. He was a pyroid, which meant he could create and control fire. I couldn’t be sure if that was his only power, but it was his only destroyer power.

  “Well, hello there, young man,” the man said in a deep voice, looking down at me. “You must be the famous Adrian Howell. Or perhaps ‘infamous’ might be the better word. I’ve heard a good deal about you from Terry and others, Mr. Howell. Or is it Gifford now?”

  “Either,” I replied, grinning, “but I had been hoping to be neither famous nor infamous.”

  The man gave a booming laugh. “Well, either Adrian Howell or Gifford, I’m Jason Simms.”

  We shook hands, and then Mr. Simms turned to Alia, who shrank under his gaze.

  “And who might you be, little one?” he asked. “I’m sure we haven’t met because I’d remember a pretty little girl like you.”

  Alia relaxed a bit, but still didn’t speak, so I said, “This is my sister Alia. She wanted to meet you today.”

  “Then let’s meet!” said Mr. Simms, extending his hand. Alia studied it for a second before reaching out to shake it.

  Mr. Simms invited us into his home, which I noticed was quite untidy by the standards that I was used to living with Cindy. Shirts and jeans were draped over the backs of chairs. A thin layer of dust covered the shelves against the walls. Several magazines and a half-finished sandwich lay on a low table.

  “Actually, I have heard of you too,” Mr. Simms said to Alia as we crossed his disorderly living room. “And I’ve already heard from Terry of the change in dinner plans. I could’ve set the table for four, of course, but I’m guessing Terry didn’t want to cause an extra bother. No matter. It’s your brother, Adrian here, that I wanted to speak with today.”

  I asked, “Do you live here alone, Mr. Simms?”

  “It shows, does it?” he said, laughing. “I was married for a while, but it didn’t work out. These days, I’m too busy for family.”

  We entered his dining room, which bore the marks of a mild attempt at tidying. On the dining table, a large bowl of steaming stew sat next to a plate of roughly cut salad. There was also a basket of breadsticks and a pitcher of lemonade.

  “Help yourselves, mates,” said Mr. Simms as we sat at his table and took our plates and bowls. Mr. Simms had no silverware. There were cheap plastic forks and spoons instead, and I guessed that Mr. Simms didn’t like being drained even while eating. I also noticed that there were no napkins, but didn’t comment.

  “Thank you for having us over today, Mr. Simms,” I said as I helped Alia to a small plate of salad and then filled her bowl halfway with the brownish, chunky stew. It didn’t look very appetizing and I wasn’t sure how much my sister would eat. Deciding to show off a little, I telekinetically pou
red everyone’s lemonade. Mr. Simms smiled appreciatively.

  Serving myself next, I said, “Thank you also for allowing Terry and me to join your team. But I’m wondering what you wanted to talk to me about today.”

  “Eat first!” said Mr. Simms. “Then we’ll talk business. Besides, I haven’t let you on the team yet, young Knight. I wanted to get to know you first. Now eat up while it’s hot!”

  Alia hadn’t touched her spoon yet, so I decided to set a polite example and dipped my plastic spoon into my bowl. It was a spicy but surprisingly good meat stew. I wasn’t exactly sure what kind of meat, though.

  “It’s delicious,” I commented, and then commanded to Alia, “Eat.”

  My sister took a sip, and then a mouthful, and finally smiled across the table at Mr. Simms. “I like it,” she said carefully.

  “I was hoping you would,” said Mr. Simms. “I know it’s no match for your mother’s cooking.”

  “What’s in it?” I asked.

  “Oh, this and that,” Mr. Simms said airily. “Bit of a trade secret. But I guarantee it’ll put some hair on your chest.”

  Alia hastily put her spoon down and stared at me. “I don’t want a hairy chest, Addy.”

  I nearly choked laughing. “I’m sure he’s joking, Alia.”

  Once we were about through the meal, Mr. Simms leaned back in his chair and, stretching his arms, said, “Okay, to business, then.”

  “Sure,” I replied. Patience was never one of my strong points, and I had been itching for him to get down to business all through dinner.

  “First off, Mr. Baker told me that you were fourteen years old. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” I answered in a defensive tone because I knew, of course, why he asked. Alia and I were both small for our respective ages. With Alia, it was most likely because of malnourishment during her early childhood, but in my case it was probably hereditary: my father wasn’t exactly a beanstalk either.

  “Very well,” replied Mr. Simms, looking curiously at me. “So, Adrian, the main reason I asked you to join me this evening is that I want to know why a fourteen-year-old wild-born is so eager to go on a dangerous Guardian mission. You are an Honorary Knight already, and receiving the full pay of a veteran Knight. Isn’t that correct?”

  I nodded. I had received my first pay in cash at the end of April, and May’s salary was put into a Guardian-controlled bank in New Haven. I hadn’t actually gone to the bank yet to withdraw any money, but I knew it was there, and more would come at the end of this month and every month for the next three years. That was how much the Guardians valued my role in rescuing Cindy.

  Mr. Simms continued, “Do you realize that you are the first child ever to be granted this status? Furthermore, Honorary Guardian Knights are usually ordinary Guardians, peacefully employed, that do some great service to the Knights. As such, these people do not commonly take us up on mission offers. To be perfectly blunt, Adrian, why are you here?”

  “Terry is my friend, and I promised her that I would fight,” I said, and then added quietly, “because of what the Angels did to her brother.”

  “You feel sorry for Terry’s brother?” asked Mr. Simms. “You wish to avenge him?”

  “I never even met Gabriel, Mr. Simms. I feel sorry for Terry.”

  “I see,” said Mr. Simms, stroking his beard. “But Adrian, pity is a very poor excuse for walking onto a battlefield. Is there nothing you want for yourself in this matter?”

  I took a sip of lemonade before I answered, “Maybe you already know this, Mr. Simms, but I have another sister who is in Angel captivity. I hope to rescue her someday, if I can. But I’m guessing that to do so will take a fair amount of fighting, and I want to be ready for it. So far, if you don’t count the towboat incident, I’ve only tagged along on one mission with the Knights. And on that mission...” The Angels had set us up on that mission. They had ambushed and decimated our team.

  Mr. Simms nodded. “Yes, several good friends of mine were killed that day. Some of the best Lancers we had. Mr. Baker assigned you to me because I lead the Raven Knights. We specialize in non-psionic engagements, which means that your skill in blocking psionic control is not a major issue. We hunt God-slayers and Wolves, and occasionally bring in wild-borns who are not controllers. We do not do battle with the Angels or other psionic factions.”

  “Even so, I should become more familiar with Knight missions,” I said.

  “I suppose that’s true,” said Mr. Simms. “Then you are in it for the experience?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, Adrian. It’ll be my first time having a child on the team, but if you’re fourteen, I suppose you’re not much of a child anymore. Mr. Baker has requested, and I accept.” Mr. Simms rose from his chair. “Welcome to the Ravens, Adrian,” he said, extending his hand.

  I stood and shook it. “Thank you, Mr. Simms,” I said, and we sat again.

  “For future reference,” said Mr. Simms, “I am known on missions under the call sign Swoop.”

  “I’m Hansel,” I said. I nodded towards Alia, who was lazily playing with some of her leftover salad. “That’s Gretel.”

  Mr. Simms chuckled. “Hansel and Gretel, huh?”

  “Cindy’s stupid idea of a joke,” I said dryly.

  “Well, Hansel, how would you feel about going on a small mission this very night?”

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  Alia snapped her head toward Mr. Simms, and then slowly looked over at me.

  Mr. Simms took no notice of my sister as he explained, “One of my long-range finders thinks he’s located a wild-born not too far from here. The Angels stay well clear of New Haven these days, so I’m guessing they’re not onto him yet, though we’re not as sure about the Wolves. If my finder is right, this wild-born could be a valuable asset to us.”

  Having been a wild-born myself, I knew that these new psionics, with no psionic relatives or ties to existing factions, posed a threat to our secrecy in human society, but were also highly sought after by the competing factions because they presented the opportunity to bring new psionic blood into a group.

  Mr. Simms paused to sip his drink before continuing, “The only problem is, you see, my primary team is tied up on another project right now – a big project – and I’d prefer not to pull anyone for a mere fishing trip at the moment.”

  “Fishing trip?” I repeated.

  “That’s what we call a wild-born hunt,” explained Mr. Simms. “I was going to ask another Knight unit for some backup, but if you and Terry are willing, we could definitely use your help.”

  “I’m sure Terry is willing,” I said, feeling Alia’s uncomfortable gaze burning into the side of my face, “and I am too, of course.”

  I heard Alia’s voice in my head say warningly, “Addy...”

  “That is,” I said, smiling at Alia, “if my sister doesn’t mind.”

  Mr. Simms turned to her. “Would it be alright if we borrowed your brother tonight? He’ll be back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

  Alia stared back at Mr. Simms for a few seconds, and then looked down and said quietly into her plate, “Okay.”

  “Great,” Mr. Simms said happily. “I’ll make the arrangements. Find Terry and meet up with a Mr. Michael Watson. He’s your finder and team leader for this assignment. Terry will know where he is. You’ll probably leave before 8pm tonight, so you’d best be going now.”

  Once Mr. Simms saw us out and we were on the elevator down to the lobby, Alia let out a loud and very deliberate sigh.

  “It’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said, giving me a reproachful look.

  “I did say that yesterday,” I admitted. “But you just said it was alright for me to go.”

  “I know. But you would go no matter what I said.”

  I had no reply to that. “What did you think of Mr. Simms, Alia?”

  “I don’t know,” Alia said uncomfortably. “He’s okay, I guess. But kind of scary.”

  “What
do you mean?” I asked. “He’s a big guy, but he seemed nice enough to me. What was scary about him?”

  “I don’t know,” Alia said again. “Just... something about him.”

  I shrugged. “Well, he’s my commander now, Ali, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be working with him every day. This, uh, fishing trip... he’s not coming on it either.”

  We exited NH-4 and half-jogged back across the park to NH-1.

  Back in the penthouse, Cindy informed me that Terry was training in the dojo. I was about to go fetch her when Cindy said quietly, “Don’t you have something to say to me, Adrian? Or were you planning to get Terry up here so you wouldn’t have to?”

  I looked back at her, and she explained, “Mr. Simms just called me. You and Terry are to meet Mr. Watson in the parking lot in thirty minutes.”

  “Then I guess there’s nothing to say, Cindy,” I said emotionlessly. “Except that I’m going.”

  Cindy came up and gave me a hug. “Just be safe, okay?”

  “Always,” I replied, hugging her back. “I’m not doing this for fun, you know.”

  “I know, Adrian,” said Cindy, releasing me. “But you’re still doing it.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be that dangerous, Cindy,” I said, unsure exactly who I was trying to convince. “Mr. Simms called it a ‘mere fishing trip.’”

  “You remember yours?” Cindy asked evenly.

  After an Angel berserker had murdered my parents, Ralph Henderson had shot the man with a crossbow in my living room and then used his peacemaking power on me to force me into his car.

  “Vividly,” I said. “But this time, I’m not the fish.”

  Cindy pursed her lips for a moment, and then said, “You’d better go find Terry.”

  I did, and after telling Terry what, to her mind, was very good news, we returned to the penthouse together to pack for the mission.

  Actually, I had nothing to take. I didn’t own a gun or any other weapons, and since it was just an overnight trip, I figured I didn’t really need a change of clothes either.