Lesser Gods (36 page)

“Jason Simms, of course. He leads the Raven unit now.”

Stunned, I could only manage a weak, “Oh.”

“If you want to know more about how the Skys dealt with Slayer scum, you’d best go ask Jason. Bet you hate those bastards for what they did to you.”

“Something like that,” I breathed.

Ralph asked gruffly, “Anything else you want to know, lad?”

“No.”

“Then if I’m still alive next month, I’ll see you down here.”

“Good luck, Ralph,” I mumbled as I listened to his footsteps leave the shooting range.

Mr. Jason Simms. Swoop. Raven commander. The former leader of the Sky Guardians. The man who hunted Slayers. The man who led the team that raped, tortured and murdered six-year-old Grace. Mr. Simms was a pyroid. Had he personally set fire to Charles’s sister? It didn’t matter. It was done on his watch, which, to my mind, was the same.

I remembered how Charles had once said to me, “Even enemies can grant favors.” If it hadn’t been for his care, I probably wouldn’t be alive today, and the only return I had made was to give him a painless execution. I owed him more than that. But what could I do? Kill Mr. Simms? Admittedly, my morals weren’t quite up to the standards they used to be, but I still couldn’t entertain the idea of cold-blooded murder.

Several times over the next few days, I pondered confronting Mr. Simms or at least taking this up with Mr. Baker, but I didn’t do either. I wasn’t sure what I’d say to my former commander, and I had a feeling that Mr. Baker already knew what atrocities the Sky Guardians had committed under Mr. Simms. A politician like Mr. Baker might have to overlook past crimes for the reunification and future security of the Guardians, but if that was going to be his line, then I didn’t want to stand there and listen to it.

Laila returned to New Haven at the end of the week. Though she must have been quite worn out, she nevertheless came to see me that very day.

“I missed you so much,” said Laila as we embraced in the living room.

“I missed you too,” I said, holding her tight despite Alia’s giggling in the background. “Three weeks is a very long time.”

Cindy asked, “How was your trip, Laila?”

“Well,” said Laila, releasing me, “as you can see, Ms. Gifford, I didn’t find Terry. But I did hear a bit about her. She had stayed with one of the breakaways for a short time last year.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“Walnut Lane.”

“Ah,” said Cindy, recognizing the name. “Mrs. Harding’s group.”

“We were there for two days,” said Laila. “They told us that Terry seemed to be settling in, but then suddenly disappeared.”

Cindy said, “I hope nothing happened to her.”

“Me too,” said Laila, “but Terry’s not an easy person to kill, so I’m not too worried.”

We laughed, and Laila asked, “How have you been, Adrian?”

“Pretty busy, actually,” I told her.

“Another girl?” kidded Laila.

“No,” I laughed. “If you can believe it, I’ve been relearning how to shoot a pistol.”

After a moment of silence, Laila said disapprovingly, “I would have thought that after all you’ve been through, Adrian, you would’ve had enough of this war.”

I nodded. “Believe me, Laila, I have had enough, long ago. But that doesn’t change the fact that, with Terry gone, I’m the only live-in bodyguard here.”

“And you can shoot blind?” Laila sounded incredulous.

“Not very well, yet, but I’m learning.”

“Who’s teaching you?”

“Ralph Henderson,” I said, smiling as I imagined the surprised look on Laila’s face.

Laila had never met Terry’s grandfather, but she knew him well enough by reputation. “I hope you don’t pick up any of his other bad habits,” she said worriedly.

I chuckled. “I’ll be careful.”

With Laila back in New Haven, my life took a sharp upturn for the rest of the month and the first week of February, but then Ralph returned and actually called Cindy on the phone to offer me pistol lessons. Warding off Laila’s objections, I spent an hour or two a day with Ralph in the shooting range.

“I know it looks bad, Laila, but Ralph isn’t teaching me dirty tricks,” I insisted. “What I’m learning is for self-defense.”

“You’re lessons with Ralph are always in the evenings,” complained Laila. “I just wish we had more time together.”

I had felt that too. Owing to my daily sessions with Ralph, I could no longer spend a lot of time with Laila except on Saturdays and after church services on Sundays. I wished it were otherwise, but I couldn’t ask Ralph to change our lesson times, seeing as he was already doing me a great favor by offering to teach me at all. My only justification for giving up the time that I could otherwise have been spending with my girlfriend was that my pistol aim was actually improving. Laila still maintained that I should just let others do my fighting, but she nevertheless supported my desire to be as self-reliant as I could. Laila joked sadly, “At least I have no excuse not to get my homework done.”

St. Valentine’s Day fell on a Sunday that year, and Cindy thoughtfully kept Alia busy with her schoolwork and chores so that Laila and I could have an evening to ourselves. Where we went and what we did is really none of your business.

The next day, February 15th, was Cat’s thirteenth birthday.

Like the previous year, Cindy baked a cake to celebrate, but the party did little to brighten my sour mood that day. I realized that Cat and I had been apart for two and a half years now. I wondered how much my first sister had grown, and what her life among the Angels was like. When the Angels failed to capture me, they had taken Cat in the hope that, as the sister of a wild-born psionic, she would also someday develop psionic powers. Until then, however, my sister was probably kept as one of their slaves, given daily tasks such as cooking and cleaning in some Angel’s house. I wondered again, as I so often did, whether I would ever see her alive again.

Meanwhile, I had gradually come to realize that something was not quite right with my other sister.

New Haven’s youngest Honorary Guardian Knight was no longer as fickle and quick to tears as she had been when I first met her at Cindy’s old house, but she still had her ups and downs. Sometimes I couldn’t get Alia to stop chattering in my head. Other times she remained silent for hours. I had long since gotten used to her un-childlike behavior. That, combined with my own busy life and my inability to see Alia’s facial expressions, was probably why it took me so long to realize that not only was Alia spending more and more time in silence, but she no longer telepathically murmured in her sleep as often as before. On a hunch, I once felt around her bed when she was out of the room, and sure enough, there was the giant stuffed unicorn doll that my sister always slept with when she was feeling particularly insecure. It seemed that Alia had entered an elongated, downward mood swing since the start of the year, the cause of which eluded me, and it was gradually worsening.

“I’ve noticed that too,” said Cindy when I asked her about it. “I asked Alia a couple of times if there was anything troubling her, but she said she was fine. I was actually hoping that you might know something about it.”

“You’re her mother, Cindy,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t know what goes on in Alia’s head.”

“Yet you’re the one she always cuddles with, Addy-corn,” replied Cindy, making me cringe. “I first thought that Alia was just upset with you because you don’t spend as much time with her as you used to, but now I’m not so sure.”

That made two of us. However, I knew that the best way to deal with my sister’s silences was to stay close but give her time to work through her own feelings. Upon reflection, I realized that while I did on occasion lose my temper with Alia, when she was in one of her difficult moods, I always had nothing but patience, probably because deep down I knew how much she needed it.

Cindy, on the other hand, tried to pick Alia’s mind with increasing frequency over the following week. Alia’s insistence that nothing was wrong only fueled Cindy’s worries.

“Adrian, would you
please
help me with your sister?” Cindy once begged in exasperation. “I just can’t get through to her.”

“I
am
helping, Cindy,” I insisted. “I’m keeping the peace.”

My concern for Alia aside, I found it rather amusing that, for once, Cindy actually seemed to have less patience than I did. Cindy wanted to dig her way to the bottom of Alia’s troubles, whatever they were, but for my part, I was willing to wait until Alia was ready to talk.

And it wasn’t such a long wait.

Though it had been raining since early morning, I spent the last Saturday of February wandering around New Haven with Laila and Alia. We watched a movie and later went to a bowling alley where I actually managed two strikes, or so Laila told me. Alia was silent for most of the day, gripping my hand even tighter than usual when we were walking together, and while she seemed to enjoy the bowling game, her attention frequently phased in and out. Laila asked her more than once whether she was feeling well, but if Alia answered at all, it wasn’t out loud.

I still had my pistol lesson in the evening, so we ended our date a little before 5pm. After kissing Laila goodbye in the NH-1 lobby, I took Alia back up to the penthouse. Since I was already wearing my headset and my gun was locked in the shooting range, I could have just told Alia to go back up the elevator by herself, but today I wanted to make sure that she was in Cindy’s company before I headed down to the subbasement. At the penthouse door, I almost asked Alia if there was anything she wanted to talk about, but I didn’t.

Ralph was loudly unimpressed with my shooting that evening. Even as I listened for the subtle changes to the humming of my headset’s proximity sensors, my thoughts kept wandering up to the penthouse and whether I was right not to badger my sister into telling me what was bothering her. In the past, patience had always been the key to Alia’s soul, but perhaps this time required a more aggressive approach.

“What’s wrong with you today, lad?” asked Ralph as I emptied my third clip, having hit the fifteen-yard target only twice. “Are your sensors misaligned?”

“No,” I said, touching my headset just to make sure. “I guess my mind just isn’t into this today.”

“Nobody cares about your mind when they’re trying to put a bullet through your head, lad!” snapped Ralph. “Whatever your personal problems, learn to put them aside when you’re fighting or you’ll be too dead to have any problems.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied dully, loading another clip.

I did my best to focus on the distant target, and my accuracy improved a bit, though clearly not enough. Ralph was leaving on another mission, and today was our last time together for a few weeks. Although he was frustrated with my pitiful aim, Ralph nevertheless extended our practice time much longer than usual, and I didn’t get back to the penthouse until after 8pm.

My stomach was growling like a walrus when I announced my arrival, and Cindy quickly reheated my chicken dinner.

“Where’s Alia?” I asked.

“She already ate, bathed, and is in your room. You didn’t expect her to wait for you, did you?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I was just a little worried because she was even more spaced out than usual today.”

Cindy sat with me while I ate, sighing as she said, “Alia still won’t tell me what’s bothering her.”

I smirked. “I’m sure it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, Cindy.”

“Very funny,” Cindy said frostily. “Doesn’t it bother you that something has been eating at your sister for weeks now?”

“Of course it bothers me,” I replied gently. “But you’re the one who kept telling me to give her time back when she was little. Take your own advice. Be patient and she’ll come around. Alia is a tough kid.”

Cindy sighed again. “I guess you’re probably right. I just can’t stand to see her like this anymore. She had been doing so well until recently.”

I grinned. “I take it she got tired of you pestering her and asked to be left alone?”

“That just about sums it up,” Cindy replied dejectedly.

“I’ll tuck her in tonight, okay?”

“Sure, Adrian.”

I ate quickly. Far from being unconcerned about Alia, I was actually very worried because she hadn’t even come out to greet me when I came home.

As I quietly entered my bedroom, I heard Alia’s footsteps rush up to me and then felt her arms wrap around my waist.

“Hey, Ali,” I said in a surprised tone as I patted her back, “what’s with you today?”

Alia remained silent, but her arms tightened even more, and I could tell she was shaking a little.

I joked mildly, “You haven’t tried to break my backbone like this since I drowned on that boat.”

Still silent, Alia released me.

I knelt down and put my hands on her shoulders. “Alia?”

More silence.

“Okay,” I said, standing up again. “No words, then. Just sit with me.”

I led her to our window-side chair and sat beside her, putting an arm around her side and pulling her close. I listened to her soft breathing and the quiet pattering of the rain on the window. We sat there together, perfectly still, not speaking, for what felt like an hour or more. I knew better than to break the silence first.

Suddenly I felt Alia shift her weight a little, and I wondered for a moment if she was falling asleep, but then I heard her telepathic voice in my head say faintly,
“Addy, I want to ask you something.”

Finally, what just might turn out to be a breakthrough, but I wasn’t going to make a big deal of it. I shrugged and said casually, “So ask.”

Alia said slowly,
“I’m afraid it might upset you.”

“Oh?” I said, taken aback. “Well, I know I’ve been upset about a lot of things in the past, Ali, but right now, you’re obviously the one who’s upset, not me.” I gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I know something has been hurting you for a long time now, and I wouldn’t mind sharing some of your pain, if you’d let me.”

Alia took a long, deep breath, and then whispered into my mind,
“Would you tell me about the Slayers?”

“You’re right, Alia,” I said. “The Slayers aren’t my favorite topic. But you remember back when we made those snowmen how I told you about Charles and his little sister, Grace, don’t you?”