Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) (17 page)

BOOK: Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5)
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10.
Promises
 
 

Sunday, July 13, 2087

 

“OUR FOCUS HAS to be on infiltrating Mexico City,” Commander Byron
argued to the leadership committee after hearing other points of view. Sammy
sat next to him, listening half-heartedly. He was still tired from a late
Saturday night spent playing blastketball and making out with Jeffie. His lips
were still sore and raw in a pleasant sort of way that made him grin whenever
he thought about it. “What is the point in planning anything with the kill code
unless we have the biggest piece of the puzzle already in our possession?”

“I agree,” Anna said. “Let’s put all our attention
on getting a Dark agent out of the Extraction facility and
then
worry about the rest.”

“What can you tell us about the
Extraction/Implantation site, Dr. N—Khani?” Lara asked, always reluctant
to call on Khani.

All eyes turned to the Tensai whose chest puffed out
each time she spoke.

“Sammy’s contact at the Hive,” Khani began, “has
given us all the information we need to access the site under the disguise as
an inspection team. The fox uses a quality control firm owned by N Corp through
subsidiary companies to ensure secrecy regarding the nature of the facility.
Using the protocol on the data cube, we should be able arrange an appointment
without alerting anyone in the fox’s hierarchy.”

“We need to assemble a team of Psions,” Sammy said.
“People who can pass as inspectors.”

“What are the profiles of people used in previous
inspections?” Lara asked Khani.

Khani tapped her glasses on her lip while her other
hand danced on her tablet. “Psychologists mostly, but a few experts from other
fields like mathematics and physical penetration test teams.”

“So we need Psions who look old enough to pass as a
part of this team?” the commander asked. “How many exactly?”

“Five is the standard inspection team size,” Khani answered.

“Count me in,” Anna said.

“You and I are the only truly older looking Psions,”
Commander Byron said. “No offense, Anna.”

“None taken. Surviving to being thirty-three is a
badge of honor.” She gave Sammy a rogue wink.

“Who are the oldest Psions available?” Lorenzo
asked.

“More important to me,” Commander Byron said, “is
who are the most qualified that we can make look old enough. Samuel, certainly,
should go.”

“He’s the most wanted man in the CAG,” Thomas said.
“His face is all over the news.”

“That picture looks nothing like me,” Sammy
countered. “My hair is longer, I’ve been growing out my facial hair. Throw a
pair of square glasses on me, and no one will connect the dots.”

“I agree,” Anna stated. “Sammy needs to be on the
mission.” She looked at Sammy, put a fist to her chest, and bumped her sternum.

Sammy grinned. “I propose a team consisting of
myself, the commander, Anna, Al, and Kawai Nujola.”

Al stirred at the mention of his name, his eyes
puffy as ever. Sammy guessed his friend had gained ten or fifteen kilos in the
last three months, most of it in his face and gut. “I’m in.”

“I oppose that team,” Commander Byron stated in a
firm, cold voice. “Li Cheng Zheng should be taken instead of Al.”

Al gazed at his dad, then barked out a laugh. “I’m
far more qualified for the mission than Li. I’m going.”

The atmosphere in the room changed very quickly to
one of tense silence. Three days ago, the commander had kicked his son out of a
subcommittee meeting for being hung-over. Everyone waited to see what he would
say now.

“Albert, you are not fit to go on any mission. You
do not take care of yourself. How can you be expected to take care of your
teammates?”

“I—” Al sputtered. “You don’t have a
clue—”

“And while Albert is the topic at hand,” Byron
stated to the committee, “I motion that he be removed from the leadership
committee and any further missions until he gets himself sober and demonstrates
some manner of self-control.”

“Give me a break, Dad,” Al argued. “You can’t impose
your morals on me. I’m more than qualified for this mission and the committee.”

“I made a motion,” Byron said to the rest of the
room. “Does anyone wish to second it?”

At first no one did. Then Anna raised her hand. Al
stared at her as though she’d shot him. Lara and Thomas exchanged a dark look,
and Lara presented the motion to the floor with a sigh. “All those in favor of
imposing this restriction on Al …”

One by one, hands went up, even Thomas’s. Sammy did
not raise his hand, nor did Lara, but still the restriction passed by a two to
one margin. Pale, tight-lipped and breathing heavily, Al stood. His hands shook
and he seemed determined not to look at Commander Byron.

“This is a mistake,” Al announced. “There’s no one
more qualified or able. So if you idiots want to send our people into a
dangerous situation without the best soldiers at your disposal, then the
results are on your hands not mine.”

Byron reached to put his hand on Al’s.

“Don’t touch me!” Al shouted, jerking his hand away.

The commander stood as well to help his son, but Al
took a swing at his dad with a balled fist. Commander Byron jerked his head
back and shoved his son face-first into the table. Al knocked his head into the
wood and fell to the floor, nose and lip trickling blood. When Al reached his
feet again, he looked worse than ever.

“Clean yourself up, son,” he said quietly. “You are
not yourself.”

“I am—just—” Al’s eyes roamed the room,
and he seemed to finally realize how he looked in the eyes of the committee.
Without another word, he left. Once he was gone, the committee put the five
names to a vote. It passed unanimously. Immediately after, the commander
excused himself, his face red but frozen in stone.

Sammy did not get home until after 2100, but the
smell of booze was so strong in the house that it almost made him gag. Al was
slumped over on the couch, his head resting on one propped up hand while his
other hand spun an old pistol on top of the coffee table. He did not look up
when Sammy entered the room.

Sammy’s eyes trained on the gun. For a moment, he
considered running for the commander, but somehow he knew that would make
things worse. Trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, Sammy said, “Hey
Al. You doing okay?”

Al didn’t move except to spin the gun again. “You
are my best friend, Sam.” His slurring was particularly bad tonight. Then his
shoulders gave a jerk. “Ha! I called you Sam. I bet I’m the first person to
ever call you Sam. Aren’t I, Sam?”

One of his teachers in Johannesburg had insisted
that Sammy was a girl’s name, so he’d called him Sam, and it rankled Sammy
every time. “Yep, you’re the first.”

Al sniggered as Sammy sat down. “I’m tired. I don’t
know what I’m doing.”

“What’s the gun for?”

Al glanced at Sammy as if to say, “You know what
it’s for,” but he didn’t say a word.

“You mind if I take it?” Sammy asked. He waited for
Al to answer, and when he didn’t, Sammy reached for it.

Al tightened his grip. “I just … think … maybe I’ve
messed things up. Maybe it’s my fault.” His shoulders jerked again with another
mirthless laugh. “And that’s kind of funny, right? Because I’ve been telling
Marie that it’s
her
fault. I mean …
all she did was get pregnant, right? All she did was give me a beautiful girl.”

Sammy sat down next to Al and put his arm over his
shoulders. “I know how you feel, Al. I’m still you’re friend.”

Al began to cry. He picked up the gun and dropped it
in Sammy’s hands. Sammy used one hand to drop the magazine on the floor. Then
he cleared the chamber and another round popped out. When it was done, he let
out a deep breath.

“That gun isn’t going to solve your problems,” Sammy
said. “Just make everyone else’s worse. You take it a day at a time, and you’ll
get through this.”

Al put his head on Sammy’s shoulder and cried until
he fell asleep. Sammy stretched him onto the couch and covered him with a
blanket. Then he picked up the gun, the magazine, the bullet, and held them all
in his hands for a long time.
Was he
really going to do it?
Sammy hoped the answer was no, but wondered if he
should tell someone. Byron? Marie? Thomas and Lara?

What if it were
me holding a gun to my head? What would I want?

Sammy called Commander Byron. Five minutes later,
the commander and Sammy carried Al, still deeply asleep, into Byron’s car.
Sammy did not sleep well that night. And when he woke, he lay in a puddle of
his own urine.

The days passed so swiftly that Sammy hardly had
time to wonder where they went. The mission date was set for the last Monday in
July. Sammy spent most of his time visiting Brickert at the infirmary,
preparing for the mission to Mexico City, and convincing Jeffie that she didn’t
look old enough to go with the team. The only thing that finally appeased her
was when he told her she could be the driver who took them from the hotel
downtown to the mission location.

The Saturday night before the mission, Sammy and
Jeffie went out with Li and Kawai on a long walk following the Milk River. The
moon was high and full, the air was cool, and the sounds of the water and wind
were a balm on Sammy’s mind. It was at these rare moments when Sammy actually
felt sixteen. Most other days, he was treated much older and expected to lead.
Around his best friends, he could be himself.

“You check in on Al again?” Li asked Sammy.

“Yeah,” he said, “he’s doing better. Byron knows
what to do, and now that Al is letting him … I think he’s going to be okay.”

Kawai wrapped her arm around Li’s and cuddled into
him as they walked. Jeffie and Sammy were content to link fingers. “Should we
ask them?” Sammy overheard Kawai whisper to Li.

Sammy and Jeffie glanced at each other, wondering
what Kawai was talking about. They walked farther down the banks of the Milk
River until they were only a meter from the water. Li and Kawai continued
muttering to each other.

“The moon is so full, so pretty,” Jeffie said softly
to Sammy. “Where’s Venus?”

Sammy stared at the stars until he spotted it, then
he leaned close to Jeffie and pointed his finger at the bright planet.

“Where’s Mars?”

Sammy pointed again.

“Where’s Mercury?”

This one was more difficult, but eventually Sammy
found it.

“Where’s Uranus?”

“It’s not visible to the naked—”

Jeffie pinched Sammy’s butt cheek and started to
giggle. “You fell for it!”

Sammy rolled his eyes. “How lame can you be?” He
tickled Jeffie’s ribs and she shrieked.

“Stop!”

“Is that Uranus?” He tickled her back and her
stomach. “Is that? Is that?”

“I’m going to pee!”

Sammy let up. Jeffie took several deep breaths. Not
far away, Kawai and Li were kissing each other as though the world was about to
end. Sammy stood up and coughed loudly until they broke up.

“Sorry, Sammy,” Li said, “didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah,” Kawai added, “did you guys just get here? We
thought we were alone.”

 
Jeffie
threw a handful pebbles at the other couple.

“Okay! Okay!” Kawai cried. “Talking about our
wedding just … gets me going. What can I say?”

“Is that what you two were whispering about?” Sammy
asked.

“Actually, we were wondering,” Li said, “if it’s
time to ask you two to be our best man and maid of honor.”

“Us?” Jeffie asked. “Are we old enough?”

“We have no idea,” Li asked. They all laughed. “But
I don’t have any brothers.”

“And I don’t have any sisters,” Kawai said. “You’re
my best friend, Jeffie. You and Natalia. But I feel better asking you for some
reason. I don’t think Natalia will take it too hard. By then you’ll be seventeen
… maybe even eighteen depending on how long the war takes to end.”

“So?” Li asked. “You guys cool with that?”

Jeffie looked at Sammy. He shrugged. “Sure.”

Kawai grinned widely and kissed Li.

“Take it somewhere else!” Jeffie teased.

The two broke apart again and stood up. “Well, maybe
we will,” Kawai said with that same huge grin.

Sure enough, the couple left, their feet making soft
sounds in the river’s bank as they walked away. Jeffie leaned closer to Sammy
until her head rested against his chest as they sat on the wet grass. The
moonlight rippled in the water, creating a black and yellow gloss.

“You don’t get nervous anymore, do you?” Jeffie
asked.

“I’m not nervous about tomorrow, if that’s what you
mean.”

“Lucky.” She put a hand on his shoulder and kissed
his cheek. “I’m nervous, and I’m only the driver.”

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