Page 14 of Generation One LLR


  “I do, though,” Caleb replied softly. “Need a friend, I mean.”

  Nigel’s lips were curled in a sneer that slowly faded in the face of Caleb’s abject piteousness. “Oh, for shit’s sake, Caleb . . .”

  “Ever since this happened, ever since I got my Legacies . . .” Caleb ran his fingers across his bloodied knuckles. His eyes were getting watery. “The stronger I get, the longer I stay here—they keep getting harder to control. I don’t know who I am anymore. And those—those things. They just pop out of me. I don’t mean them.”

  After a moment of reluctance, Nigel put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

  “Listen, I changed too, when I got my Legacies. I . . .” Nigel shook his head, trailing off. “We’re all going through it, mate. We’re all bloody damaged. Your damage is just showing more on account of how your powers work.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Caleb said quietly.

  “Here’s what you do,” Nigel replied. “The next time that asshole duplicate pops out, you come and get me, your friend Nigel, and I’ll give him a spanking he won’t forget.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ISABELA SILVA

  THE HUMAN GARDE ACADEMY—POINT REYES, CALIFORNIA

  ISABELA PRESSED HER EAR TO THE DOOR OF HER room. She could hear them out there. Gossiping without her. That stung. Gossiping was one of her favorite pastimes.

  “And then it turned out it was one of his, like, duplicates the entire time,” Taylor said. “How weird is that?”

  “Very strange indeed,” Ran responded.

  “Why would he do something like that?”

  “I do not know,” Ran replied after a long moment of quiet reflection.

  Because he likes you! Isabela wanted to shout through the door. Instead, she huffed out a breath and continued to eavesdrop.

  Hiding out in her room like some kind of dorky shut-in wasn’t Isabela’s style, but she’d been doing a lot of that since the incident a few nights ago. After Taylor’s breach of Isabela’s sanctuary—barging into her room in the middle of the night, the nerve!—Isabela had decided their friendship needed a brief cooling-down period. If Taylor thought she could just come traipsing into her room at all hours . . . no. Just no. Not okay. There needed to be boundaries.

  Isabela did have to give Taylor some credit; she hadn’t pressed Isabela since their midnight encounter. She kept her distance, gave Isabela space. So many of these Americans were like Dr. Linda. They always wanted to “talk things out.” Isabela was glad that her roommate wasn’t one of them.

  Also, Isabela’s eavesdropping led her to believe that Taylor hadn’t said anything about the other night to Ran, even though the two of them were suddenly best buddies. That was a relief. The girl could keep a secret.

  Isabela decided she would let Taylor apologize to her tonight. Just as soon as Ran went to bed.

  In the meantime, Isabela checked her face in the mirror to make sure everything was where it should be. She tucked a curl of dark hair behind her ear and stuck out her chin. Was that little upraised bump a pimple? She shape-shifted just a little, smoothing her chin. She tilted her head to the side, then decided to lengthen her eyelashes as well.

  These Legacies had their uses.

  Stuck to the corner of Isabela’s mirror was a picture of her family at the beach. The shot was taken two years ago—her beautiful mother, her potbellied father, her little sister who tried so hard to ape Isabela’s disaffected pose and Isabela herself. Pretty, Isabela thought, looking at her younger self, but not as pretty as now.

  She smiled at herself in the mirror. Oh, how the boys had been checking her out the other day. She had liked that.

  After the incident the other night, Isabela had made an unscheduled trip to San Francisco. They weren’t allowed to have locks on their bedroom doors at the Academy, but Isabela decided that policy didn’t apply to her. As usual, she was able to sneak off campus by shape-shifting into one of the soldiers and simply signing a car out of the motor pool. In the city, she bought a dead bolt. And an iced coffee. They didn’t get an allowance at the Academy, so she’d had to spend a little time disguised as an alluringly dirty-faced homeless woman, collecting singles from tech guys as they rushed off the BART.

  Not a bad day, all in all. Helped take her mind off things.

  Isabela felt much more comfortable now that there was a sturdy lock on her door. She didn’t need to push her nightstand underneath the doorknob anymore.

  “Maybe you should just be honest with the people in your life,” Dr. Linda had suggested during their last session. “Remove all this need for secrecy.”

  Isabela scoffed at that. She had told Dr. Linda about the incident with Taylor, but left out the trip into the city that followed.

  “If you gave me my own suite like I asked for, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation,” Isabela replied.

  “Mm-hmm.” Dr. Linda glanced down at her notes. “You know, I received another call from your parents. They say you haven’t been responding to their letters. They’d very much like you to put them on the visitors list.”

  Isabela crossed her arms and looked at the clock. “Are we almost done here?”

  Isabela shook her head. She’d spaced out staring at that picture of her family. They were good people. They loved her. And Isabela loved them. She even missed them, especially her sister.

  But they did not know her now. They knew only the old Isabela. If they came, there would be too many questions.

  The common room sounded quiet. That meant Ran was probably off to bed. Isabela brushed wrinkles out of her shirt, straightened her skirt and exited her room with a flourish.

  Just as she’d hoped, Taylor was by herself, studying her anatomy textbook on the couch. She looked up at Isabela with a tentative smile.

  “Hey, stranger.”

  “Hello,” Isabela said with a flip of her hair.

  Taylor closed her textbook. “So, I kind of feel like you’ve been avoiding me . . .”

  “No. Obviously not,” Isabela replied. She glided over to the mini-fridge and got herself a bottle of orange juice. “I am very busy. Lots of classes. You know.”

  “Yeah, I know how much time you spend on schoolwork,” Taylor said dryly. “Anyway, um, I don’t know if I overstepped or something, but I didn’t mean to. I was just having a rough night and thought . . . I’m sorry if I, like, violated your privacy.”

  Isabela smiled brightly. “All is forgiven,” she said magnanimously. “In the future, if you need me to hold your hand after a bad dream, please wait until morning. I am not myself when woken up by an American rhinoceros bursting into my room.”

  Taylor chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re so good at accepting apologies, Isabela.”

  “I know.” She paused. “Oh, by the way, I listened to your conversation earlier. Allow me to illuminate the ways of the male mind for you. Caleb has a crush on you, pretty girl.”

  “Hmm.” Taylor leaned back on the couch. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

  “Yes, well, he is a weird boy, isn’t he? Handsome, though, if you like them all clean-cut. You would make a good-looking couple.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “They will put you two on the brochures for the Academy. Look at these nonthreatening Garde with their blond hair and smiles! Of course, Caleb is a secret freak, I think, but still. Everyone who goes here is strange in some way.”

  “No kidding,” Taylor replied. “But you can stop with the matchmaking. I’m not interested in him like that.”

  Isabela shrugged happily. “It doesn’t have to be forever! Maybe just a little fun. Loosen you up. You can be like me. There’s no harm in sampling.”

  Taylor laughed and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t think I could ever be like you, Izzy.”

  Izzy. Her little sister called her that. Isabela felt a warm rush of affection and flopped down on the couch beside Taylor.

  “Something to aspire to,” I
sabela replied. “If you don’t want to discuss your love life, we can discuss mine. I have been dating Lofton for six weeks now. Getting bored. He graduates next week—good timing. Lofton goes away, no messy breakup and I find someone new.”

  “Uh-huh. And you have a list of candidates, I’m sure.”

  “I was thinking about your boyfriend’s roommate, actually. The Nigerian guy.”

  Taylor’s eyebrows shot up. “Kopano?”

  “Yes. Big muscles on that one. Nice smile.”

  Isabela watched as Taylor ran a hand through her hair, her cheeks flushed. She bit her lip. They’d been talking so easily a moment ago, but now Taylor seemed to be struggling to find the words.

  “Uh, yeah . . . ,” Taylor said at last, her expression clouded. “He is nice.”

  Isabela smiled. So, she had learned something about her roommate tonight. The girl did have an interest in boys after all.

  Isabela stood up and dusted off her hands as if she was done with the matter. “Eh. Never mind. I will choose someone else.” She noted the look of relief on Taylor’s face with some satisfaction. “Now, I need my beauty sleep,” Isabela declared.

  Taylor stopped Isabela before she could return to her room. “Hey, um . . .” The American’s voice was quiet. “One more thing?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t know . . . I don’t know if I should say anything. But if you . . . if you ever want to talk about what I saw the other night—”

  Isabela turned around slowly, one of her eyebrows arched, her lips a cold line. “What did you see, Taylor? What are you talking about?”

  Taylor hesitated. Recognizing the tension in Isabela’s words, she wisely backed off. “Nothing. Never mind. Good night.”

  Isabela nodded sharply. “Good night.”

  Back in her room, Isabela slid her newly installed dead bolt into place. She exhaled slowly. Taylor was sweet and kind; she wouldn’t say anything about what she had seen. She’d leave it alone.

  Talk about it. Pah. What was there to talk about?

  As always, this late in the day, Isabela’s face had begun to ache. It was like that tense sensation one gets from smiling too much. Her stamina had vastly improved in the months that she’d been at the Academy, but the constant Legacy use still drained her by nightfall. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, touched her smooth cheek and smiled wistfully.

  Then, she turned off the lights.

  With a sigh of relief, Isabela let her true face slide back into place.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KOPANO OKEKE

  THE HUMAN GARDE ACADEMY—POINT REYES, CALIFORNIA

  SIX A.M. THE FIRST RAYS OF SUN SHONE RED through the gym’s wide windows. Kopano braced himself as he brushed by a series of thick ropes that hung from the ceiling. Cautiously, he made his way through the training center’s deserted obstacle course. The program wasn’t active at the moment—that meant no ball bearings or electric shocks would come shooting out at him. But still, there was danger. An attack would come. And soon.

  Because Kopano was not alone.

  “YAAAA!”

  The scream alerted Kopano just seconds before Professor Nine dropped from the ceiling and landed on top of him. His knees crunched into Kopano’s shoulders and knocked the wind out of him. In his one metallic hand, Nine held a savage combat knife. He plunged the blade down between Kopano’s shoulder blades.

  The weapon crumpled against Kopano’s skin. With a grunt, Nine flung the ruined weapon away. Kopano rolled beneath him and socked Nine with a punch to the sternum. The older Garde went flying backwards.

  Kopano’s fists were as hard as bricks. Nine sucked in a breath as Kopano scrambled to his feet.

  “Did I hurt you?” Kopano asked, grinning.

  “Yeah,” Nine replied. From the back waistband of his pants, Nine drew a pistol. “Same question.”

  Blam! Blam! Blam!

  Kopano flung up his hands. One of the rubber bullets he managed to deflect with his telekinesis. The other two thudded into his chest. Kopano felt that now-familiar tightness in his skin as his flesh hardened to rebuff the impact. He wouldn’t even be bruised.

  “Painless!” he shouted at Nine gleefully. Then, he reached out with his telekinesis and yanked Nine’s gun away.

  Nine retreated. Kopano gave chase. His limbs always felt heavy right after his invincibility kicked in. Carefully, he hurdled a pile of logs, part of the obstacle course. His body got lighter, loosened up, and he picked up speed. These fights with Professor Nine had become part of his routine. Three times a week, bright and early. Nine pushed him, tried to hurt him and was rarely successful.

  “Remember!” Nine shouted over his shoulder. “Control your Legacy! Think about what you’re doing!”

  Nine reached the sideline of the obstacle course, where a dented Dumpster usually served as cover for the projectile attacks launched by the system. With strength that still awed Kopano, Nine ripped a metal sheet off the side of the Dumpster and held it before him like a shield.

  Kopano cocked his fist back, knowing his knuckles would harden as soon as he struck the metal. Sure enough—wham! He punched a dent into Nine’s makeshift defense, nearly knocking the steel straight back into his professor’s face.

  Nine recovered quickly. He swung the metal at Kopano’s head in a backhand motion. Kopano ducked, but the move was meant only to create space. Nine leaped on top of the Dumpster, escaping again. He held his hand up towards the catwalk that overlooked the training center.

  “Weapon!” Nine called.

  From above, something white fell down. Nine caught the object and sighed.

  “Thanks a lot,” he said dryly.

  Kopano squinted as he climbed up after Nine, who now held out a pillow in front of him.

  “Are you going back to bed, Professor?” Kopano asked with a grin as he squared up with Nine.

  “Less talking, more hitting,” Nine countered. He bounced from foot to foot on the Dumpster’s creaky lid, swinging the pillow in front of him.

  “As you wish,” Kopano replied.

  He should have known it was a trap.

  Kopano swung a big right hook at Nine. The professor raised the pillow to block. Kopano felt his knuckles strike the soft surface—and then his fingers cracked. He shouted in pain and surprise.

  The pillow was filled with rocks. Worse yet, Kopano’s Legacy hadn’t kicked in to protect him.

  “Hold! That’s enough!” Dr. Goode called down from the catwalk.

  Kopano thought a couple of his fingers were broken. He stomped down on the Dumpster, not so much in pain as frustration. This was the third time he’d been injured in practice, always because Professor Nine managed to somehow surprise him.

  “You all right?” Nine asked. He tossed his loaded pillow away with a clatter.

  “I’m fine,” Kopano muttered, nursing his injured hand. He looked up at Nine with watery eyes. “Why doesn’t it work? What good is being invincible only some of the time?”

  “Clearly, you aren’t invincible,” Nine replied, and hopped down from the Dumpster. Kopano followed. “Or maybe you could be. But you’re letting your instincts do the work for you instead of controlling the power.”

  “I have listened to all the lectures,” Kopano replied, ashamed of the desperation in his voice. “About visualization and meditating on the energy within me. But there is nothing to visualize, Professor. And I do not feel any energy. It simply happens, or it does not.”

  “You aren’t trying hard enough, kid,” Nine responded brusquely.

  Kopano frowned and began to pluck off the plastic sensors that Dr. Goode always affixed to his body before a session. Just then, the scientist made his way down from the catwalk, thumbing through results on his tablet.

  “Anything to report, Malcolm?” Nine asked.

  Dr. Goode stroked his chin and looked appraisingly at Kopano. “Actually, I did pick up an interesting reading,” he said, and Kopano’s heartbeat quickened. “When your Legac
y successfully triggered, your weight momentarily increased. It went back to normal when you gave chase to Nine. Did you feel that, Kopano?”

  Kopano nodded, remembering the heaviness in his bones when he first chased Nine. “Yes. That happens sometimes.”

  Nine snapped his fingers. “There you go, man. That’s what I want you doing from now on. Thinking like you’re fat.”

  Kopano frowned. Dr. Goode patted him on the shoulder.

  “It’ll come, Kopano,” he said. “Go see Taylor about that hand.”

  As Kopano trudged off the obstacle course, Nine called after him, “Kopano! Show me something today, man. I’m counting on you.”

  Kopano nodded in response, then quickly turned away to hide his grin. Nine was counting on him! He didn’t want the professor to see how giddy that made him. Had to be cool and macho, like Nine.

  He’d show Nine something all right.

  He’d win today’s Wargames event even if he had to do it by himself.

  “How’d you do this?”

  “I punched some rocks.”

  “That was dumb.”

  “They were hidden inside a pillow.”

  “Even dumber.”

  Kopano chuckled. Taylor held his hand, letting her warm healing energy flow into his fractured fingers. In a matter of moments, the swelling was gone and Kopano was able to flex his digits without pain. He bowed dramatically to Taylor.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she replied, shaking her head as she let his hand drop.

  The two of them were part of a larger group on their way to the wooded area south of campus. Although participation in the Wargames event was entirely voluntary, all of the Academy’s students were required to attend so they could at least watch. Many of the instructors were making their way to the woods as well. Students chatted excitedly, all of them discussing the possible challenge Professor Nine had designed in concert with Colonel Archibald and the Peacekeepers. The Garde got plenty of training time with each other and at the obstacle course, but today would mark the first time any of them faced outside opponents. The atmosphere reminded Kopano of when his school would face a rival in sports.