Lesser Gods (7 page)

“It’s okay,” said Laila. “I hope Terry and Adrian stay out of too much trouble.”

After we saw Laila off, Mark offered to help Cindy and Alia with the clean up, allowing Terry and me to retreat to the game room for a quiet round of nine-ball.

Though we didn’t even have a television, our penthouse did had several features the average home did not, including a library, a greenhouse, an enormous Jacuzzi bath, and Terry’s favorite: the pool table in the game room. Terry was an excellent pool player. I wasn’t much competition for her, but I did manage to win a game every once in a while, which was far better odds than I had when I faced her in the dojo.

Due to the renovations our penthouse had gone through following the Angels’ raid on it, the game room now doubled as a safe room, which meant the walls and door were reinforced with thick steel plating. Being surrounded by all that metal caused my telekinetic power to drain a little, and staying in here for too long could sap my physical strength too, making me mildly drowsy. It had no effect on Terry, however, since she hadn’t yet gained any psionic powers and thus couldn’t be drained. Of course that wasn’t why I so frequently lost to her, but it made for a nice excuse.

Setting the balls on the table, Terry said to me, “You liked her, didn’t you, Adrian?”

“Laila?” I asked. “She was alright.”

“If you want, I’ll set up a date for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Terry, we’re about to join the Knights and go off on combat missions. I think dating is going to have to wait.”

Terry grinned mischievously as she rested her cue stick on her left stump for the break shot. “So you
did
like her.”

“I didn’t say that!” I replied stubbornly over the sound of Terry sinking three balls. “Besides, I’m probably too cute for her too.”

Terry laughed. “I was afraid you had heard that. Laila once asked me if I was dating you. It kind of sounded like she was asking if you were available. Goodness knows why, though.”

It was high time to change the subject.

“You really think we’ll be given missions this summer?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Terry held her cue stick under her left stump and chalked the tip. “The Guardian Knights are always looking for new members.”

“I wonder why,” I muttered sarcastically.

Terry fouled up her next shot, but merely grinned, saying, “But don’t think I don’t know why you just asked me that. Come on, Adrian, what did you really think about Laila?”

“I don’t want to think about Laila,” I said in an annoyed tone as I leveled my stick on the table. “I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now. I really feel bad about Cindy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Terry said quietly. “But she has to get over it eventually. What you said to her was right. You’re a destroyer, Adrian. People are only truly alive when they’re in their element.”

“Perhaps,” I said, focusing on my shot. “But I was just as serious when I said that I would’ve happily been a hider.”

“Well, you’ll get over it too.”

I missed, and Terry sunk another three in her next shot, including the nine-ball.

“Another round?” she asked.

I looked at the clock. The minute hand hadn’t yet moved quite far enough that I felt comfortable leaving the safe room for Cindy’s company.

“Okay,” I said.

Another game, another loss.

Mark poked his head through the doorframe as we were setting up our third round. “I’m going home now.”

“Sorry we didn’t help out in the kitchen,” I said.

Mark smiled. “It’s quite alright. I think Cindy is calm enough to see the both of you now. Be nice to her, okay? She’s just worried about you.”

“We know, and we will,” promised Terry.

Terry and I skipped the last game and saw Mark out.

Once the door closed, Cindy said to us, “I just tucked Alia into bed. And I got a call from Mr. Simms a few minutes ago. You’re both invited to dinner with him tomorrow.”

“That was quick,” remarked Terry.

I looked uneasily at Cindy and said, “Thanks for... well, you know...”

Cindy closed her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Thanks,” I said again.

Though it was nowhere near my usual bedtime, I felt entirely too uncomfortable to stay in the living room so I bade Cindy a hasty goodnight. Terry didn’t linger either.

It was only after I had brushed my teeth and returned to the bedroom Alia and I shared that I realized my sister hadn’t spoken a single word to me since before dessert. In the darkened room, Alia was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring blankly in my direction.

“Hey, Ali,” I said, turning on the light. “Is something the matter?”

Silence.

“Something is the matter,” I decided. “Sure you don’t want to tell me?”

More silence. Alia was like that sometimes.

“Listen, if it’s about the ‘angles’ thing, I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t want to talk about Cat there.”

“I don’t care about that, Addy,”
Alia said in a sullen tone.
“I know I can’t speak like you.”

I grinned. “Words in my head! That’s a start.”

My sister let out a loud huff, hopped down from her bed and walked to the window.

As she stared down at the city below, I placed a hand on her shoulder from behind. “Ali, what’s eating you today?”

Alia didn’t move, but a moment later she said quietly into my head,
“You’re going away again.”

“Oh, well...”

Suddenly Alia spun around. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she telepathically shouted,
“You promised, Addy! You promised you’d stay! You promised and you didn’t even tell me!”

“You’re talking about a promise I made when you were seven years old, Alia,” I sputtered. “Things are different now. You’re not in any danger here. This is the safest house in New Haven.”

“I don’t care!”
said Alia, stamping her feet.
“You promised!”

I put my arms around her, and was relieved that she didn’t pull away. I sat down on the chair next to the window and, placing my sister sideways on my lap, I whispered into her ear, “You’re right, Alia. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you first. But it’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow. I made a promise to Terry too. I didn’t think it would happen so soon, but still...”

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 poured everyone’s lemonade. Mr. Simms smiled appreciatively.