Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It was just like the first day of school.
Rowan still didn’t know a quarter of the huge place.
On the surface it looked just like a college campus—brownstone buildings, gardens, paths going here or there.
The real bulk of the place was underground.
She’d seen at least two hangers big enough for aircraft, then there was Four East, where Henderson had his command center.
She still wasn’t sure exactly what Henderson did, but he seemed to be a leader here, and Justin was his second in command.
Justin had even taken her into the great nerve center of Central Op. Banks of computers and funny things that looked right out of futuristic movies. They had technology here that wouldn’t be available to the general public for at least a decade.
The cafeteria was underground, and Rowan was hungry.
She had no choice. Justin hadn’t come back with coffee, and that was unusual.
He was usually so punctual. The cafeteria’s fluorescent lights shone on a linoleum floor, and the place looked like every other communal eating place she’d ever seen—a sort of orderly chaos, groups of people clustered at their regular tables.
Every “neophyte” had a “mentor,” someone to show them the ropes and steer them around the complex.
“Hey, Ro!” Catherine waved her arm frantically, silver bracelets flashing. She was at their usual table. Beside her, Zeke hunched over his tray, shoveling in a small mountain of grits loaded with cheese.
Rowan made it to the table, tucking wet hair behind her ears. She should have dried it; she was still chilled. “Hey, guys.”
“’Bout time.” That was Catherine’s idea of a pleasant hello. She seemed incapable of politeness, going out of her way to be abrasive.
Yoshi looked up from a thick technical manual. Light glinted off his wire-framed glasses. “Miss Rowan. You look magnificent.”
Rowan had to laugh. Yoshi was calm, and cool, and professional without being dry. He also had a wickedly ironic sense of humor.
“I got you a tray,” Brewster said. “No bacon, right?”
Rowan made a face, laughing. “You know I like bacon. Justin was supposed to bring some coffee, but I guess he got hung up. I start class today.” She eased herself down next to Brewster, glancing at her tray. “How did you know I like grapefruit?”
“I’m bloody well psychic, remember?” He grinned, his white teeth shining and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes comforting. “So you’re taking operative classes? How’d you talk Del into that?”
“Good morning, everyone,” Henderson said, and there was a general scramble. Zeke and Brewster would have made it to their feet to salute, but Henderson waved them back down.
“Hey, General,” Catherine greeted him. “Our star girl’s going to class today. Looks like she’ll be a full op before long, whaddaya say?”
“I say that’s her business and not yours, young lady. Good morning to you, by the way.” Henderson lowered himself into the seat opposite Rowan’s. “Good morning, Rowan.”
“Morning, sir,” she said, taking a sip of orange juice. Brew had loaded her plate with extra bacon, and she was hungry. She set to it with a will.
Someone across the room laughed, the sound sharp and clear above the crowd-noise.
Rowan glanced around. Until now, she had always felt uneasy in crowds, a soft press of emotion choking her on every side.
Here it was different, a blessed relief.
Everyone knew how to keep their emotions from drowning her.
Justin called it shielding and had taught her how to do it, but Rowan couldn’t quite remember how or when the lesson had taken place.
Justin’s arm came over her shoulder, and he set a cup of coffee down on the table. A brief silence wrapped around the group. “Sorry I’m late.” The words sliced the crowd-noise effortlessly. He lowered himself into the seat on Rowan’s other side.
Sitting between Brewster and Justin meant that Rowan was effectively closed in from either side. She normally didn’t like that feeling, but here it was comforting.
Justin settled himself; he gazed steadily at her as the conversation started again. Henderson asked about something called a flux-phase and Yoshi set his book aside.
“I got hung up, called to Central,” Justin said quietly. “I’m sorry, Rowan.”
“It’s okay,” she said around a mouthful of grapefruit. “I knew you’d be along.”
He seemed pleased by that, smiling, and took a drink from his own coffee cup. “Nice to see you’re getting along here.”
“I like it. Everyone seems so… well, nice.” It was still hard to believe they were all people who had freakish abilities like hers, but it was also kind of comforting. “Are you going with me this morning?”
“Of course. Hey, Brewster, did you finish that mock-up?”
“I did,” Brew said. “I wondered when you’d ask. Listen, I’m not sure about the third sequence. It’s too hard to tell.”
“I can guess at it, I think. I just needed the second to figure out what the beginning of the third looked like. Any news from Blake’s team yet?”
“None. It’s beginning to look grim. Soren’s wearing his red bandanna again.” Brew took a long drink of apple juice and grimaced as if it was bitter.
“Any luck with dowsers?” Justin looked quiet and calm, as usual, but Rowan could feel tension vibrating from him.
“Nope, they were operating standard-silent. If we had another 5RV we could probably track them down, but as it is we have to wait until they break cover.”
Rowan wondered if she’d ever been discussed at this table. Had she been a “subject under watch?”
And what had Sigma been saying about her? Had she been measured, plans drawn up, risk assessments done?
It was an uncomfortable line of thought. Rowan finished half her breakfast and stared into her coffee cup. Her stomach had closed itself, as it did so frequently nowadays.
“You should eat more,” Justin said quietly.
She looked up. How long had he been watching her?
“I can’t.” She finished the rest of her coffee in one scalding gulp. “Is it time?”
“We’ve got a little while. I’d like to show you something.”
“All right.” She eased herself to her feet, chair scraping on the linoleum. Henderson glanced at her, Brewster nodded, and Cath gifted her with a rare, beneficent smile. “See ya round, Price,” the blue-mohawked girl said. “Glad you’re signing on.”
What choice do I have? “Thank you, Cath. And thanks for getting my tray, Brew.”
“Just leave it, love. I’ll carry it up.” He waved elegantly at her. “See you this afternoon!”
Now what does he mean by that? Rowan settled for nodding and letting Justin draw her away.
“He’ll have basic meditation with you this afternoon.” His breath touched her ear as they negotiated the maze of tables. “I’m sorry I was late.”
“It’s all right.” She slid her arm through his and felt his surprise. It was odd. He was usually so closed-off she couldn’t tell what he was feeling.
He led her through a faceless white hall with fluorescents and a stone floor, and then into a transport. “Second Level, Excel.” His voice didn’t change, but Rowan’s cheeks suddenly felt hot. The coffee rose uneasily in her throat. “Are you all right?”
“I just hate being underground. Justin?”
“Hm?”
“Did you mean it? About… about helping me?”
“Of course.” He went so still she wanted to check to see if he was breathing. “I wish it wasn’t like this; I wish I could have stopped them from hurting you.”
I wish you could have too. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?”
She knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the nausea or the lump in her throat. Or the sudden tears filling her eyes. He did everything he could. Don’t blame him.
But there was nobody else, was there? She had nobody else left in the world. Dad was dead, and Hilary was dead, and Rowan was alone.
Except for Justin Delgado.
The transport slowed. Rowan, without meaning to, tightened her grip on Justin’s arm. He said nothing.
When the doors finally opened, he led her out, and she gasped.
“It’s a track,” he said. “Quarter mile. In the middle there’s free weights and a practice ground.”
The track was covered in rubberized black stuff, perfect for runners.
The lighting was as close to sunlight as you could get, and cool air lifted her hair, brushed her face.
It was as close to perfect as possible. How did they fit all this stuff underground?
They lived like moles, barely surfacing, only the most claustrophobic living aboveground.
Rowan was suddenly, intensely glad Justin had an aboveground room.
Ruin your knees, running like that, her father’s voice floated up through her memory. A lump filled Rowan’s throat.
In the middle, a group of people were doing t’ai chi, slow, even dancing movements. Rowan swallowed, hard. “Thank you.” Something occurred to her. “How did you know I—”
“I would hate to be cooped up, and here you can feel safe. And you’re in good shape, Rowan. It’s obvious you exercise. You told me you liked to run.”
Had she? She didn’t remember.
“Thank you.” Rowan impulsively went up on tiptoe.
She kissed his cheek, pressing her lips against his shaven skin.
He froze again, and she caught a flash of another feeling from him, gone too quickly to identify.
That’s twice in a row. It’s odd, he’s normally so closed off.
“I mean it. Thank you. This is… it’s wonderful. ”
“We’d better go,” he said. “We’ll be late.”