Lesser Gods (33 page)

Cindy had followed me. “Adrian? What’s going on? Is Laila alright?”

“I think so,” I breathed. “She went home.”

“Adrian Howell! What is the matter with you?!”

My head snapped toward her voice. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that, um... we, uh... Laila and I, that is... we, um... we kissed.”

A blink later, Cindy let out a deep breath and laughed loudly. “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry, Adrian! I was about ready to call the Knights in case you were under some kind of psionic control.”

“I’m fine,” I said, laughing awkwardly. “I mean, I think I’m fine.”

“So, you and Laila are going together now?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, I’m really happy for you,” Cindy said sincerely. “Laila’s a great girl. Terry’s been trying to get you two together for months. It’s a shame she’s not here to see it.”

“I hope she writes,” I said, quickly deflating at the mention of Terry. “So I can thank her.”

“I hope she writes too, Adrian.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, Cindy. My mind was all over the place. And I’m still really sad about Terry.”

“I’m sad about Terry too,” said Cindy. “We’ll all have to work hard to get through this. But you and Laila are in this together, since Terry was friends with both of you. I just hope you don’t forget that your sister misses Terry as much as you do. And she likes Laila too.”

“Don’t worry, Cindy. I won’t forget about Alia,” I said, though I was already pondering what excuses I might make to Alia in order to guarantee Laila and I had a little more time to ourselves.

Terry didn’t return that week, or the next. Eventually Alia stopped asking whether Terry would even write, which she didn’t, but I knew it was on Alia’s mind as much as it was on mine. I didn’t have the heart to suggest that my sister move into Terry’s old room, even if only until Terry came back. Cindy didn’t want to do anything with it either. We had little use for a guestroom in the penthouse.

Meanwhile, Laila and I got a good deal closer. Like Terry, Laila was a year older than me, but unlike Terry, she wasn’t noticeably so. I found that I could talk with Laila just as comfortably as I could before we were dating, if one could even call it dating with my sister hanging around so often. The penthouse always felt a little empty without Terry there, so I understood Alia’s desire to stick close to Laila and me, and I did my best to tolerate her. Laila seemed perfectly happy to have Alia chaperone whenever we went out, and Alia didn’t mind me holding hands with Laila so long as she got my other hand.

With the winter closing fast, I frequently wore the scarf Laila had given me and the sweater Alia had made, and the three of us roamed around New Haven together, strolling through the park or stopping at cafes or restaurants. Laila’s busy school schedule prevented us from meeting daily, but on Saturdays we usually spent the whole day out.

Though just barely within Cindy’s hiding bubble, New Haven contained both a movie theater and a concert hall. I found that I could enjoy most non-action movies just listening to the actors speaking. I hated action movies anyway – too much gunfire and meaningless violence. I had had enough of both. Laila liked classical music, and I developed a bit of a taste for it myself when I first felt the concert hall vibrate with the sound of a full orchestra playing live Mozart.

Being blind, the eyes of the public bothered me very little, but despite how this had all started, Laila preferred to keep our outdoor kissing to a minimum. I didn’t mind that too much. It was nice just to talk with her and hold her hand, and whenever it was more than that, it was something special.

Though Alia had shown no surprise when she first learned that Laila and I were going together, she nevertheless did tease me from time to time, probably because she felt that she wasn’t getting enough of my attention these days. While the three of us played together much as we used to, it was equally true that I no longer spent very much time alone with Alia. And there were occasions, however infrequent, when I insisted that my sister stay home so Laila and I could go out without a nine-year-old tagging along.

Just once, I even went to Sunday church service with Laila, where I finally got to hear Mark Parnell give a sermon. It was strange listening to Mark at the pulpit addressing the crowd like a teacher. My late uncle had taken me to Sunday service a few times when I was much younger, and I remembered how the preacher there had a fiery temper, shouting about heavenly punishment and damnation. In contrast, Mark spoke in a near-whisper about how God loved even the people who were against him. Personally, I no longer believed in his message of “love thy enemy,” but it was nevertheless nice to hear it from someone who did. Mark probably spotted me in the crowd, but thoughtfully refrained from introducing me to the congregation. We talked after the service. I assured Mark that my visit was purely secular, upon which he laughed and said, “You are quickly redefining the word ‘agnostic,’ Adrian.”

Attending Sunday service also meant that I finally got to meet Laila’s mother. Though I couldn’t picture her face, Mrs. Brown seemed very friendly and not at all worried about me dating her daughter. She asked me how Cindy was doing and told me not to give up hoping for Terry’s return. Upon seeing how Mark treated me in the church, Mrs. Brown forgave my lack of faith as easily as Laila had, and I was spared the need for future Sunday visits.

The end of the year came quietly. New Year’s Eve turned out to be a chilly but clear day. Laila came up to the penthouse in the morning and spent the day with us. As with the previous year, there was a New Year’s countdown party for the Council and their families down in the subbasement gathering place, but this time Cindy was going by herself. I had tried to get Alia to accompany her so that I could be alone with Laila, who also wasn’t going to the party, but no such luck.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on you kids while I’m gone,” Cindy said teasingly as she left in the late evening. “Who better than Alia?”

I frowned. Tonight would be my last chance to be with Laila for the next three weeks.

Late tomorrow morning, Laila would be heading off with her mother and another Council member on a journey to visit a handful of independent psionic settlements across the country and beyond, as well as two breakaway Guardian factions. The purpose of this expedition was to establish better relations with them and possibly get them to join us here. Since the two Council members and their escorts wouldn’t return to New Haven until well after Laila’s winter vacation ended, the original plan was for Laila to stay with us in Terry’s old room, but Laila had convinced her mother that the possibility of finding Terry in one of these settlements outweighed anything school could offer. I really didn’t like the idea of not seeing Laila for three whole weeks, especially since Laila wouldn’t even be permitted to make telephone calls during her trip, but I agreed that the possible prize would be worth the sacrifice.

A few weeks ago, Cindy had bought me a radio for my bedroom, and Alia brought it into the living room so we could listen to the countdown, which was still hours away. We left it on at low volume as we talked and played board games to pass the time. I told Laila about how Terry had made fun of me last year for my refusal to drink more than one glass of champagne at the countdown party, and how she spent the first half of New Year’s Day in bed with a hangover so severe that she could barely sit up. I was exaggerating, of course, but not by much.

“That’s Terry alright,” laughed Laila. “I hope she’s doing okay.”

“I’m sure she is,” I said, though my faith in Terry’s resilience had been severely shaken. “If you find her, give her a good whack on the head and say it’s from me. That way, she’ll have to come back here to return it.”

The three of us drank a non-alcoholic toast to Terry, after which Alia suddenly exclaimed aloud, “Look! It’s snowing.”

“Wow, it’s pretty heavy too,” commented Laila. “Maybe it’ll stay on the ground this time.”

It had hardly snowed at all this winter, and it certainly hadn’t piled up enough to have any kind of snowball fight like in previous years. Laila had lamented the lack of snow on Christmas.

Alia wanted to go to the greenhouse where the glass ceiling would allow her to see the snow falling from above. Laila agreed, and I had nothing better to do, so we all stood up and made our way through the library to the greenhouse.

“It’s beautiful,” breathed Laila as we stood in the warm and mildly humid room. “But I hope it doesn’t pile up too much or the roads are going to be terrible tomorrow.”

I tried my best to remember what it had looked like last year. I guessed that some of the glass ceiling might already be covered in snow by now.

“The phone’s ringing,” I said, just barely catching the almost inaudible tone making its way here from the living room. “Alia?”

“Okay, okay!” said Alia, rushing out of the greenhouse.

As my sister’s footstep receded, I felt Laila touch my hand. “I really wish you could see this, Adrian,” she said.

“I can, in a way,” I replied. “I can hear the snow hitting the glass.”

“I can hear it too,” whispered Laila. “I never really noticed that before.”

“There are a lot of things you learn to notice when you’re blind, Laila.”

“Like what?”

“Like how close you’re standing.”

“It’s a little early, Adrian,” Laila said softly, “but Happy New Year.”

I felt our lips touch, and I kissed her back, wrapping my arms tightly around her, my right hand on her back and my left stroking her soft, sweet-smelling hair. I felt her arms around me too, pulling us ever tighter, and I knew she could feel my rapidly beating heart against hers as clearly as I felt hers on mine. As we stood embraced under the soft tapping of the falling snow, I wished with all my being that time itself would freeze solid so that Laila and I could remain this way forever.

I heard Alia clear her throat.
“Addy!”

“Who was it?” I asked, hastily disentangling myself from Laila.

“Nobody,” replied Alia. “I said hello, and in a clear voice too, but nobody answered.”

“It must have been a wrong number,” said Laila, giggling nervously. “Everyone’s drunk and calling each other on New Year’s Eve.”

I flipped open the cover of my Braille watch and ran my fingers over the watch hands. “It’s about 11:30. Let’s, um, get back to the radio.”

Laila started to agree, but her words were cut off by a high-pitch siren that suddenly rang out through the penthouse.

“What is that?!” Laila shouted over the blaring noise. “Fire?!”

“Panic alarm!” I said. “Did anyone push the button?”

After a team of Angels had managed to kidnap Cindy from the penthouse back in April, every room had been fitted with a red panic button to call up the building’s security forces. Mr. Baker had warned us that if we ever accidentally pushed one of the buttons, we should keep the front door unlocked or else the Knights would break it down.

“Nobody pushed it?” I asked again.

“No,” Laila and Alia said together.

The alarm went silent. It might have been a malfunction, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. “Safe room!” I said sharply. “Now! Come on, let’s go. We’ll figure it out later.”

Laila took my hand so I could move faster as Alia led us to the game room. Once we were inside, Alia slammed the heavy steel door and locked it. I felt my psionic power drain a little from the heavy shielding that was built into the walls of the vault-like room. I groped under the pool table and found a little something Terry had taped to the underside of it a long time ago.

“You know how to use one of these, Laila?” I asked as I tore off the packaging tape and checked Terry’s pistol.

“Are you nuts?!” cried Laila. “My mother would never let me touch a gun!”

“Well, I’m not your mother,” I said. “It’s either you or Alia if something comes through that door.”

“I’ll take it,” Laila said reluctantly, taking the pistol from my hands.

“It’s on safety,” I said. “There’s a little switch on the left side. Flip it off and all you have to do is pull the trigger.”

“Oh, I hate guns.”

“Me too,” I said fervently. “Where’s Terry when you need her?”

“Addy, the speaker,” said Alia. I had forgotten that this room had an intercom installed to talk to the building’s security.

“Push the button, Alia,” I said.

The intercom crackled to life and a male voice said, “NH-1 Security to Gifford residence safe room. Are you alright in there?”

“Gifford safe room,” I replied. “We’re in and locked. What’s going on?”

“Stay there until we come and get you. Keep the door locked.”

“What’s going on?!” I demanded again, but the intercom had gone dead.

We waited several minutes in silence.

I had Alia try calling security on the intercom again, and the male voice answered briskly, “Please standby. The situation is being dealt with.”

I said to Laila, “I’m not sure, but I think we’re okay. Give me back the pistol. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Laila seemed only too happy to return it. I felt the safety switch to make sure that it was still on and then carefully laid the gun on the pool table.

“Addy, I need to go to the bathroom,” said Alia.

“Well, you’re just going to have to wait,” I told her. “We’re not taking any chances. They said to keep the door locked till they came for us.”

“Addy, I really need to go.”

“Just wait!” I said, annoyed. I was trying to imagine what was going on outside that had caused the alarm to sound, and I really didn’t care if my sister was having personal problems. “Try the intercom again if you want.”

Alia did, but the response was the same, after which the man no longer answered.

No one had broken down the front door, and I was pretty sure that the penthouse was still safe. But two years with psionics had taught me that just about anything was possible. Even if I had the use of my eyes, I would probably still have elected to stay locked in the armored room. The world was dangerous enough without deliberately going out and looking for trouble.

Poor Alia sounded pretty desperate by the time the Knights finally came up to secure the penthouse, and she sprinted out the moment we opened the safe-room door.