Renee ran her thumb over Aeron’s necklace. She couldn’t explain it
but when she touched it, she felt a warm hug around her. It felt like a
mother’s embrace. She should call her mother. She never called enough.
“You sober for a second?”
Renee heard the voice and sat bolt upright. Maybe someone was
outside her window.
“Blondie, when you gonna stop tryin’ to stick
things in a neat little box?”
Renee turned and watched as
something
took a seat on the bed beside her.
“You think better when you think with
your heart.”
Renee pinched her arm, hoping it would wake her up. It didn’t. The
weird mist of what sounded like Nan shimmered in the moonlight. She was
officially certifiable. “Nan?”
“You expectin’ somebody else?”
“I’m having an hallucination.” Renee swung her legs off the bed,
squealing at the icy cold from the . . .
whatever it was . . . and hurried to the bathroom. She threw water
on her face. She’d put the drunken episode down to just that, drink. This, how
did she explain this? “It’s the heat . . . it’s—”
She shrieked as an icy blast hit her cheek.
“You calmer now?”
Renee shook her head. “Do it again.”
Another icy blast hit her cheek. She shivered.
“Better?”
“Not really.” She shuddered and tucked her necklace away
in
case
it was really Nan. She didn’t want Aeron to get in trouble. “How can I
help you?”
“More the other way ’round, Blondie.”
Nan breezed over as
if standing at her side and taking her by the elbow.
“You having some
issues?”
“I’m either talking to a vivid hallucination, which means I need a
long conversation with a psychiatrist or I’m talking to a ghost which means . .
. I need a long conversation with a psychiatrist.”
“A spirit,”
Nan said with a tut.
“There’s a difference?” She had enough trouble not offending
people let alone former people. She needed to lie down. She needed whiskey. She
needed therapy.
Another icy blast hit her. She shrieked.
“Focus, Blondie. You were better when you were juiced.”
Nan sighed.
“There’s
some complications, side effects to what my Shorty did an’ well . . . you ain’t
gonna find them easy.”
“You mean like I’m insane?” Renee wandered downstairs to the
liquor cabinet but it wouldn’t open.
“Sober is better in this place,”
Nan said.
Renee tried the cabinet again. It didn’t have a lock so Nan,
delusion, spirit or otherwise was holding it shut . . . and her head hurt.
“You mean I’m frustrated,” she said, deciding to hear the delusion
out. Maybe it could speak sense into her. “I haven’t been able to settle since
St. Jude’s . . . I just feel so . . . so . . .”
“Restless?”
Nan asked from her left.
Renee turned to the shimmering thing and nodded. “You know what
that is?”
Nan swooshed past her to the right.
“I do.”
Renee turned to focus on her. “So what is it?”
Nan swooshed back to the left.
“Can’t say.”
Renee frowned. “Why?”
“Ain’t my place to. You gotta figure some things out on your own.
Just like Shorty did.”
Renee tried not to smile at how Nan called Aeron Shorty. “Well, I
can’t ask Shorty for help. I’m not meant to know her.”
Nan swooshed around to the front.
“Nobody gonna believe that
for a second.”
Renee heard her click her tongue and . . . a cat meowing?
“Tiddles
is up from his nap. I gotta head on out, Blondie.”
“No,” Renee blurted, her hand held up to stop the odd shimmer
leaving. “Please, you visited for a reason. I’m listening.”
Nan clicked her tongue once more.
“The folks in this place
gonna know you ain’t strangers, so you gotta sidestep the curveball with a good
swing.”
Renee was sure some of that was baseball. Not helpful as she was a
football girl. “Are we talking about a pre-emptive strike?”
“Whatever play gets the home run, Blondie.”
Nan swooshed to her
side as if they were in a huddle.
“Figure out a plan B.”
Plan B? She could do that. “I can do that. I hope.” Renee bit her
lip. “What if Aeron gets thrown off by it? She could drop her cover. She could
crack and run for it.”
Nan shook what looked like her head.
“I said she’d bolt like
her mother for different reasons. When it comes to helpin’ my girl stays the
course.”
“Noted.” Renee tried not to shiver. Huddling with a spirit
required more clothing than her nightshirt. “Was I right in hearing Lilia was
your granddaughter?”
“How old you think I am?”
Renee yelped as a cold finger iced her in the side. “Take that as
a no . . . so I was hallucinating about Bess?”
Nan tutted.
“No. Bess is my daughter too. A woman can give
birth more than once you know.”
Renee frowned. “So Aeron has an aunt?”
“Some place but that ain’t exactly important now is it?”
Nan tutted again.
“Focus
on making sure them folks watching don’t get suspicious. They ain’t the
welcoming sort an’ I don’t want Shorty getting caught unaware.”
Renee straightened up. She protected Aeron, that was her job. It
would always be her duty. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“No doubtin’.”
A cat meowed again.
“Tiddles wants to play chase the yarn.”
“Wait. What do you mean unaware?”
“Gotta scoot.”
Nan’s voice faded and Renee felt alone. As if someone had turned
the TV off.
She glanced around. She was standing in her nightshirt, in the
living room, in the middle of the night. Good thing she had her own villa or
she’d have to claim to be a sleepwalker.
Aeron was unaware? Renee didn’t understand it but she didn’t have
to, delusion or not, she wasn’t taking a risk. Plan B . . . she just needed to
think of a plan B.
Chapter 14
AFTER FREI’S MERCILESS workout, I slept better than I had in a
while. The next morning we had our meeting with the principal and deputy.
The principal, Henry Smyth, was the money behind the place. On the
public side, he was Ivy League. The heir of an oil fortune and a man who had
been given awards for his generous nature. He was known to sponsor orphaned
children from all around the world and give them an education, a future. They
would get to study and grow in a rich environment with privileged children,
gifted children. His father had been as much a devoted hero to those homeless
children.
In reality, he was a second generation slave trader who had
nothing to do with black gold. His fortune had been built on training up
children to be criminals or goodness knows what else and selling them to the
highest bidder.
It was far worse than some of the stuff I’d witnessed back in
Serenity. The mentally ill had taken some lumps but boy, these kids were
getting it far worse. I don’t think I’d ever felt lucky for getting locked up
before but I did now.
The briefing had been short and sour. I’d chosen to stare out of
the window through most of it to hide the growing fury. The staff present were
the skill captains, a matron called Ms. Harrison, Smyth, Jäger, and me.
Harrison did most of the reporting to Jäger and Smyth. She looked
like a prison warden. Tight, scraped-back gray hair. A thin, long pointy nose
and lips thinner than her plucked eyebrows. She could make Mrs. Stein proud
with the scowl she sported.
We were told that the other staff were ignorant of the true nature
of the academy. The students were too. In fact some of those who were
privileged could be sold should their parents wish.
My parents had a lot to answer for but not even Uncle Abe would
have done it to his own children. Actually, on second thought . . .
As they rambled on, talking about profit margins, safety drills,
and announcements, I found myself taking in the people and the room. Maybe it
was Frei’s training but it felt as if I needed to assess them all somehow. What
stuck out was they had a look about them. I wasn’t sure if it was the faint
prickling of my burdens but they set off alarm bells. They
felt
wrong.
Something about the way they interacted felt out of place and I didn’t know how
to explain it.
Sawyer had a neck as thick as a tree trunk. Veins bulged out on
the sides like he was a snake from a basket. Shaved blonde hair with streaks of
scars. He wouldn’t have been out of place in Serenity. He never seemed to
blink. His blue eyes were fixed on the table.
Jones watched everything. He was skinnier than Sawyer with deep
brown skin that was patchy with scars. He either was real clumsy or a stuntman.
His demeanor made me think of Uncle Abe back in Oppidum, perched on his nest
egg, scouring for any delicious information.
His gaze rested a lot on Frei, who ignored him, but it was clear
she had a checkered history here.
Sawyer, in particular, raked his eyes over her most of the time we
sat there. The glint was volatile, angry, bitter. The way Frei acted like he
didn’t exist told me enough. That dislike was mutual.
None of the three ever looked at Smyth, Jäger, or any of the
staff. They didn’t even meet my eyes. Where they sat, to the side, placed them
as less important than me and Harrison. We sat in front of the table, included.
They were on the outside.
As Frei and I trudged toward the gym block opposite, the urge to
know got the better of me.
“Nobody ever called you by your name,” I said, guessing it was as
good a place as any to start. “Only Locks.”
“Yes. I didn’t have a name.” She didn’t sound offended, more a
statement of fact. “They never used to bother naming most kids, only the
important ones. Then they got named by someone or by their trade.”
“I gotta call them something.” How would they know I was talking
to them?
We strolled along, her focus on the floor. “They have names now.
Makes them easier to track electronically.”
“So how did you get your name?” She looked like an Ursula to me.
Ursula Frei suited her.
“Renee said if I was going to work with CIG, I needed to leave
Locks in the past.” She smiled. “We knew I had German roots, that much was
clear.”
“So you picked that way.” She’d picked well, however she got
there.
“I liked Frei, it spoke to me.” She met my eyes. “It means free.”
“Well, if you don’t count the fact that you are bound by CIG and
got to tell them where you are.” We headed down the path. The students were
quiet, walking in uniform lines in front of us.
Frei narrowed her eyes but then laughed. “You got me there.”
We headed into the gym building. There were rooms feeding off a
main hallway with a shiny floor. Bland, institutional doors with window panes
in the top.
I could see the different things they’d been set up for. Some
looked like classrooms, fitness suites, treatment rooms. It was a jock’s
paradise.
That’s if you didn’t count the whole slave thing.
“So why can’t you guys look at them?” We headed into the main gym
and I stared at the mass of kids sitting cross-legged in the hall. It was
something I hadn’t done since I was in kindergarten. “I mean, you don’t talk,
you don’t look.”
“Let it go,” she whispered, her words curt. I tensed until she
gave my hand a quick squeeze.
“Fine,” I muttered as the other staff filtered in behind us. “But
I ain’t letting you get sucked back in and I ain’t got the stamina to push
weights with you every night.”
I couldn’t feel my arms as it was.
“I won’t. You and our dear friend remind me.”
I knew she meant Renee. “Good. I like you grumpy as you are.”
She smiled at me with such genuine warmth that it was hard to put
her with the cold icy commander I knew. “Quit staring,
Samson
. Get to
work.”
She stalked to the other side next to the benches with me in tow.
To have survived all she had with such coolness said a lot about her spirit.
Slave or not, it couldn’t crush her inside.
No, Frei was proof that they could take everything away and a soul
could still be stronger. Maybe that’s what had forged her into the hero she
was. Either way. I felt proud to know her and duty bound to support her. She’d
need me, that much was clear.
THE KIDS WERE all divided up according to the skill sets that the
tests had shown. They sat on the floor in those corresponding sections. One lot
in the center and four behind them.
Harrison introduced herself to the new staff in a nasal, “I’m
better than you,” twang. She told us that the group in front were called the
gold group as Renee and a woman with short dark hair walked in.
I fought the urge to grin and wave. It was always a relief to see
Renee. I folded my arms to stop myself from thinking how fun that would have
been to explain.
Renee and the woman beside her would be in charge of the gold
group. It was clear to me that these were the kids our POIs would be part of.
They had a mixture of privileged kids and gifted slaves. They were the most
valuable merchandise as Jäger would say. I glanced at him with the thought. He
was watching me and shot a charming smile back. Oh brother.
Renee wouldn’t be happy my lunatic magnet was working again. By
what she did to Sam, Jäger should hide his kneecaps. That made me smile and I
swallowed, realizing I was still staring in Jäger’s direction.
Frei stepped forward as Harrison spoke. She was given the group at
the back, to the left of the gold group. They were silver. They were a
fit-looking bunch who would make great thieves.
Jones got the group to the right of hers, they were bronze. So the
academy was into metals. A lot of the bronze group were smaller, more wiry. He
didn’t look like much of a thief but then what did I know. Maybe they had other
skills, like staring at people and creeping them out.
Sawyer got the ones on the far right, Titanium, who looked as
friendly as he did. Seriously, those were the brats who prowled high school
halls and tormented poor kids who’d broken away from the pack.
They
felt
nasty. I could still feel the pent up issues. I
felt relieved I was bigger than the lot of them.
Then Harrison informed me that the group remaining was mine.
Mostly boys, girls, some . . . well . . . maybe varying on that spectrum. Most
were on the weedy side or looked vacant. We didn’t even get metal. We were
wood.
I tried not to chuckle. If I was in this for money, I might have
scowled but instead I just fought not to shake my head and laugh. Wooden
misfits. It was perfect.
Frei had told me that I had to train them to be muscle. By
Blackbear, they were gonna be the finest, funniest muscle this place had seen.
Wooden misfit muscle.
“You’ll be expected to teach the touring students from the gold
group during the season,” Harrison told me, making me pay attention. “The same
for the others going through academic classes.”
The season? Like hunting season? I looked at Frei whose look told
me she would once again explain later.
“It is good for all our students to have secondary skills,”
Harrison told us.
I’d bet. A thug who could steal and paint a Picasso would be worth
a few dollars.
“Each child will have a report from the skill captains and head
tutors.” She motioned to Renee and the dark-headed woman. “Professor
Worthington, head of humanities, and Professor Owens, head of sciences, will
hand them to you during their tours.” She was addressing me ’cause I guess
everybody else knew.
I was too busy staring at Renee. She’d been Doctor Serena Llys
when we’d met. So was she Professor Worthington or Owens and was I gonna like
her or want to yell at her?
“Samson,” Harrison said. “Is the new head of Physical Education.”
Renee’s eyes flickered with amusement but then she averted them to
look at the woman beside her.
“Locks is her deputy,” Harrison continued.
My eyes were still on Renee as a deep frown etched across her
brow. She knew Frei’s old name.
“Jones and Sawyer tend to take care of the team sports,” Harrison
told me, “but they’ll be in the engineering block should you need them.”
Harrison smiled and her eyes flicked to the gold group. I could
almost envision her rubbing her jewel-heavy fingers together. I noticed there
was no wedding ring though. Not surprising. She’d probably sold him.
“So there’s no dedicated male coach?” the professor beside Renee
asked. She had a soft, cultured accent, which made me think of maybe Boston or
more like the Hamptons.
Her eyes were wide, intelligent. She wasn’t a lot taller than
Renee but she was lean and pretty much supermodel potential. I didn’t know what
her genes were but she looked like she’d been built for aesthetics. Renee and
her were a lot more attractive than my high school teachers had been. Most of
them had worn cardigans . . . all year around.
“There’s no need,” Harrison said. “Samson has proven she can coach
in any environment.”
I had? I needed to re-run my cover because I did not remember
that. I knew nothing about coaching.
“The reports will be filed to whom?” Renee asked with some fancy
accent that I guessed was English. It amazed me how she could do that with such
ease.
“To me, Professor Worthington,” Harrison answered and clapped her
hands together. “I expect results.”
Was that for us or the students?
At her command the students got to their feet like they’d been
stung, turned in neat rows, and filed out in silence like mini-soldiers. The
gold group did it with more pride in their step while mine looked like they
might trip over their own feet.
“Ten bucks I get mine growing bulk and marching yours off the
hall,” I whispered into Frei’s ear as we followed them out.
She grinned at me. “You’re on.”
From the glint in her eyes, I was glad that I weren’t one of her
group. I’d been through her boot camp. Poor things didn’t know what was gonna
hit them.
Then I smiled and winked at Renee as Frei and I sauntered past.
Neither did mine.