A Soldier and a Liar

by Caitlin Lochner

  “Yo, Lai!” one of them calls with an enthusiastic wave. Peter. “Glad you could make it!”

  “It’s been a while,” his brother, Paul, says. His voice falls much softer than his twin’s.

  “I know, it’s been absolutely ages,” I say with a dramatic sigh. “I’ve missed you both terribly.” I give each of them a quick hug. “Have you started yet?”

  “We were just about to.” Peter waves to indicate the eight people seated at the bar, all of them ranging in age. It looks like we have a mix of gifted and ungifted this time.

  “Thanks for coming out to help tonight,” Paul whispers so only his brother and I can hear. “We know you’re busy, so we really appreciate it.”

  “It’s the least I can do after shoving all my usual responsibilities onto everyone,” I say. “Besides, this is my job, you know.”

  Paul’s smile widens. “All the same, it’s appreciated.”

  “How’s Joan, by the way?” I ask. “I haven’t had a chance to ask about her lately.”

  Paul’s whole expression instantly brightens.

  “Here we go,” Peter sighs.

  “She’s good,” Paul says, ignoring his brother. “We actually met up last night for dinner. She gave me a book she’d just finished reading. She said it reminded her of me and she thought I might like it.”

  “Aw, that’s really sweet,” I say. Paul and Joan have been seeing each other for over a year now. I’ve never met the girl, but from what Paul has said, she sounds bookish and strong-willed. “I’m glad the two of you are still going strong.”

  Paul ducks his head in embarrassment, but he’s smiling. “Thanks, Lai.”

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Peter asks with an excited clap of his hands. Maybe too excited given how nervous everyone else in the room is. “We do have other things to take care of tonight, after all.”

  “All right, then I’ll leave it to the both of you,” I say.

  I fall to the back of the room, nearer to the door, as the twins call everyone’s attention to them. A few eyes trail me, but soon enough, everyone is watching Paul as he speaks. “Thank you all for coming tonight. We’re sorry for the wait. We’ve already explained in general terms what joining the Order entails, and tonight, as we told you previously, we want to do a simple check of everyone to ensure we’re not taking in anyone who might betray the Order.”

  A few people shift uncomfortably, but when I lean in on their thoughts, it doesn’t seem to be for any reason other than the usual anxiety about someone testing you. So far so good.

  Here, Peter steps forward. Or as forward as he can on the cramped stage. “And for that, I’ll be the one checking everyone. My gift allows me to see parts of a person’s past. I’ll be using that to see if anyone here has any connections they shouldn’t or any reason to betray the Order.”

  And while he does that, I’ll be checking everyone’s thoughts to make sure they’re not worried about him discovering something he shouldn’t. So long as everyone comes up clear, we’ll be good to go. To have gotten to this stage, it’s a pretty safe bet that everyone here is trustworthy. But risks aren’t something the Order takes.

  “All right, so who’s first?” Peter asks with another clap of his hands.

  Do I really have to show my past to join?

  Isn’t this a little much?

  I know they warned us about a screening, but this is …

  Someone raises their hand. Everyone turns to look at a little girl who can’t be much older than eight. She doesn’t seem to be with anyone else in the room. “I’ll go,” she says. Her voice shakes, but she jumps down off her stool and makes her way toward Peter. Anything is better than going back to the streets.

  My heart twists in sympathy. Peter takes a knee so he’s on the same level as the girl, and Paul smiles at her encouragingly. She doesn’t seem to know which of them to look at.

  “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt,” Peter says with a rare gentleness. He holds out a hand to her. After a second’s hesitation, she takes it.

  Peter’s gift works by question and answer. He thinks of a question—in this case, something like, Has this person done or experienced anything that would lead them to betray the Order?—and in return is shown a series of images from the person’s past that might answer that question. His gift only works through touch, just like his brother’s, which is almost the opposite in that Paul can see random instances of someone’s future. But he’s firmly refused to use his gift on anyone for years.

  Silence falls over the room as Peter and the girl remain very still for a few moments. I scan our group’s thoughts, but again, hear nothing suspicious.

  Once Peter has finished checking the girl, I send him a thought. She’s coming up clear on my end.

  Peter’s hand drops from the girl’s and he gives her his trademark grin. “All right, you’re all good to go! Welcome to the Order, little miss.”

  A huge smile spreads over the girl’s thin face. “Thank you,” she says. I almost think she’ll cry. But then she takes her former place at the bar. The owner slips her a glass of chocolate milk, along with a thumbs-up.

  And so everyone trickles through, one at a time, all of them nervous but none of them showing any indication of a past connection with the rebels or the Council or anyone else who could potentially give the Order trouble. When the last person has been cleared, the mood in the room shifts noticeably. The anxiety is gone, to be replaced with naked relief. The owner starts serving everyone drinks on the house. A few people even start talking to each other.

  I rejoin Peter and Paul. They both look immensely pleased, though Paul keeps his happiness more subdued, as usual. “Nice work tonight, guys,” I say. “Looks like we’ve got a nice batch of newcomers.”

  “Aw, it was nothing,” Peter says with a dismissive wave of his hand. But despite his nonchalance, there were a few people tonight with hard pasts. A not-uncommon trend among our members. I know it takes a toll on Peter to have to sift through all those upsetting memories, but he never lets it show.

  Paul squeezes his brother’s shoulder before facing me. “We’ll let everyone celebrate here for a bit before we take them to Regail Hall. Once we’ve gotten them settled in, we’ll join you and the others for our meeting.”

  “Yeah, you go on ahead,” Peter says. “You don’t have time to waste waiting around here, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Thanks. I’ll see you both again soon.”

  We exchange waves. I give the owner my thanks for her help and for always offering up her bar to us. And then I head back out into the night.

  12

  LAI

  I RETURN TO the warehouse district. After a brief check for thoughts in the area confirms no one’s around, I quickly enter an old red-bricked building that looks much like the others. It’s dark inside, but I don’t switch on the lights. Stacks of crates loom up out of the darkness. I know my way around them, and to the ones I need to move in order to reveal the trapdoor that leads into the tunnels below. I open it and drop through.

  Below, lanterns line both walls to bathe the hallway in a honey-coated glow. They make the tunnel familiar. Warm. Not terrifying. I follow them down, down, down through the stone halls until I reach the room I’m looking for. I don’t knock before swinging the door open. “Tally ho and all that.”

  Inside, Fiona and Trist and a young boy, Syon, look up from a long table that fills most of the room. Maps and charts and lists are strewn across the table, some pinned down permanently, others there only temporarily for tonight’s discussions. The rest of the room is plain and unadorned. Nothing marks it as our usual meeting place.

  “Took you a while,” Fiona says. Ever the cheerful one.

  “Yeah, well, the twins asked for my help with the new recruits,” I say. “It took some time—surprising, I know.”

  Next to her, Syon signs a greeting to me. He’s younger than all the rest of us by a good few years, maybe about twelve now. Even for his
age, he’s small, and his large blue eyes and round face only make him appear younger. His fluffy blond hair looks like it’s been cut recently. Fiona probably decided it was getting too long.

  I sign a hello back and look pointedly at Fiona. She ignores me.

  “It is good to see you again,” Trist says as I sit next to him. “Was there any trouble?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle. But what about things here? How’s everything running?”

  The Order’s leader is a young woman named Walker, but it’s Fiona and Trist who all but run the organization. It’s true Walker is our head, and she takes care of what she can, but she isn’t usually present at our base here in Regail Hall. The managerial work falls to her two seconds-in-command, while Walker herself handles running the organization-wide meetings, doing tasks outside the physical location of Regail Hall, and some overhead organizational jobs. And anything Fiona and Trist can’t handle falls to the eight captains and the Helpers. It’s a system based on shared responsibilities and trust—the same way the entire Order functions as a society. But without me pulling my usual weight, I can’t help but worry.

  “Did you think we wouldn’t be able to handle things without you?” Fiona asks with a raised eyebrow. By the way she says it, I know there haven’t been any major problems. “How cocky. Not that I’m surprised. What you should be concerned with is your current position within the military and making sure you don’t get found out or killed.”

  I flick my fingers at her dismissively. “You worry too much.”

  She scowls in response. Then again, she’s always scowling. “Just see that you don’t bring all of our hard work down right around our heads.”

  “I’ll aim for our feet, then.”

  Fiona opens her mouth, but Trist slips in before she can respond. “Lai, you said you had not much time tonight. Let us talk about our revised self-defense plan before Peter and Paul come.”

  I give Fiona a look that says See? He knows what’s important here.

  She rolls her eyes.

  Trist pulls out a folder and lays a few sheets atop the table. He points to them each in turn as he speaks. “Our members’ strength has been rising, and the number of volunteers participating in the self-defense program. But with our group growing so much bigger, we need more teachers and organization. We have only so many capable fighters who are free to teach the others.”

  “And with a possible war with the rebels getting ever closer, we need our members to be able to take care of themselves if it comes to it,” Fiona murmurs.

  They proceed to describe the system they want to implement, a tournament-style set of sparring matches that would allow members to practice with each other while the teachers tend to the beginners. They go over the finer details of how it would work and show me a chart of shifts and times for the sparring practices to take place. I nod and offer suggestions to some of the organizational points, and when all is said and done, I say, “I think it’s a great idea. Good planning, both of you.”

  “Then we’ll begin tomorrow,” Fiona says as Trist gathers all the papers, each with a few new notes, back together. “The sooner the better.”

  Syon signs to me. Backup energy plan?

  I nod and sign back. Yes.

  Syon powers the entirety of Regail Hall with his gift over energy. He’s one of the rare, unlucky Nytes who has no limits to his gift, which is what makes it possible. Nytes like him are so scarce they’re not even common knowledge among the gifted. But every limitless Nyte has a huge drawback. Syon’s is that his emotions affect his gift. Even the tiniest amount of feeling, whether it be positive or negative in nature, can send his gift spiraling out of control. It’s happened before. It’d be terrifying to witness again.

  I want to know why he’s thinking about a backup energy plan now. Did something happen? Is he worried he might lose control? I don’t know if he’d want to discuss this in front of the others, though, so I put a thought in his head to ask these questions as well as to ask if I can actively listen in on his thoughts. He nods.

  If we weren’t so close, I would’ve just done it. But the five other remaining original members of the Order are special. I respect their privacy. Even now, I merely skim over his thoughts, listening only to what he wants to convey to me.

  I’m worried about the possible war. What if I can’t stay in control? The Order shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.

  The words pierce my heart like blades. Syon shouldn’t have to worry about things like that. A kid as young as him shouldn’t have to worry about how his possibly feeling something could affect those around him.

  But I know showing sympathy or pity doesn’t help anything, and it’s true that the Order would be in a hard spot if we were to lose Syon’s gift.

  I withdraw from Syon’s thoughts. Understood, I sign. Ideas?

  He signs, but my ability at signing is too poor to understand the details and Fiona has to translate. “He’s wondering if it would be possible to ensure every member has a flashlight. That way, if the power is gone, everyone would at least still be able to navigate the tunnels and escape if need be.”

  I bite my lip. The Order has a thousand members and little funding. Would it actually be possible? And how could we cover the tracks of that many flashlights suddenly being bought around the sector?

  I brokenly sign these concerns and Syon’s expression falls infinitesimally.

  Fiona, ever his protector, immediately jumps in. Not bad idea. We just need time. Don’t worry.

  I try my best to sign as well. He’s mute, not deaf, so he’d understand if I just said it aloud, but we all try to communicate with him in the same way he does with us. Continue thinking ideas. Talk more later.

  He nods.

  A knock sounds from the doorway and we all look up to see Peter and Paul standing in the entrance.

  “Yo, Lai!” Peter says with an enthusiastic wave. Paul echoes it, albeit more calmly, beside him. “Long time no see, right?”

  “Absolutely ages,” I say with a laugh. “How are the new recruits liking the base?”

  “They were a little nervous about it being underground,” Paul says. “But I think they’ll take to it. Amal and Jair are with them now, explaining how things work and answering questions.”

  “Good work,” Trist says warmly. “Now please, sit.”

  Now that all the remaining original, core members of the Order are here, I can finally give my report. The twins take a seat and I quickly fill them all in on Team One’s first mission and what I overhead the Councilors talking about. Something about experiments, getting the Nytes under their control, making Sector Eight invincible.

  It feels pitifully little once I’m done. I wish I could’ve learned something more concrete, more useful, something that could’ve helped us going forward. Given that most of my time back in the military was spent in the infirmary, I didn’t really get a chance to do much investigating.

  Trist and Fiona and Peter share an unsettled look. Syon keeps his eyes focused on the table, thinking, careful. Paul is quiet.

  I leave them to their thoughts a moment before I ask, “What do you think it could mean?”

  Fiona shakes her head. “It could mean anything. There’s too little context to make an accurate guess. Whatever it is, if it’s the Council’s doing, it can’t be good.”

  “I don’t like how they talked about getting Nytes under their control,” Peter says uneasily. “That doesn’t sound limited to the rebels.”

  “The experiments are worrying,” Trist says. His head is bent in thought. “That they are almost complete more so.”

  “I’ll try finding out more,” I say. Their disquiet is starting to get to me, too. I don’t know that I can lighten the mood, either, seeing as how my specialty is getting under people’s skin.

  “Be careful about it,” Fiona says. “Don’t take any stupid risks.”

  Peter rolls his eyes, but only after making sure Fiona isn’t looking. He’d never admit it, but she
scares him. “You just do what you have to and leave the rest to us,” he says. “And don’t worry about things here. We’ve got everything covered.”

  “I know you do,” I say. “Thanks.” I glance at my MMA. “I should be getting back. Don’t want to risk exposing my only way in and out.”

  Fiona opens her mouth to speak, but then shakes her head. “Just be careful out there, all right?”

  “Aren’t I always?” I ask. The same concern as always. The same reply as always.

  She rolls her eyes. As always.

  “Be safe,” Trist says as he gives me a hug. “Do not put yourself at risk for information. We can do without. You, we cannot.”

  “I got it,” I say gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah, our invincible Lai isn’t gonna go down that easily,” Peter says. He kicks his feet up on the table, but immediately removes them when Fiona gives him a withering glare.

  “Take care, Lai,” Paul says.

  Syon adds in his concern as well, and I sign back not to worry. Everything will be okay.

  As I take my leave and wave goodbye to everyone, I can’t help but wonder when the next time I’ll see them will be.

  * * *

  It’s very early morning by the time I reach the meeting room with the secret tunnel entrance. I hear no thoughts either in the room or out in the hallway beyond, so I quietly make my way out.

  As I walk the halls, I can’t get my mind off what I heard the Councilors talking about the other day. Everyone’s unease over the matter only reinforced the feeling that whatever they’re plotting, it can’t be good. But how can I find out more? Considering how big whatever it is sounded, I doubt just anyone in the military would know. And those who do are probably protected by starlight. What are the odds of the Councilors returning and talking about it again? Maybe I can see if anyone knows of another scheduled visit from them …