The Next Chronicle (Book 1): Next (4 page)

“No,” Kit said. “I know it sounds weird, but he isn't that way. I've
seen
how he is with us. He's not...” She paused. “Do you have some personal issue with him?”

The big man shrugged uncomfortably. “Look, we'll shelve it. It doesn't matter for the moment, and you need your game face on for what's next, okay? You're tough, or you wouldn't have made it in Helix. And maybe Robinson isn't quite the bastard I think he is. He sent you here, which proves he has good judgment.”

Kit looked up at him with a curious expression. “Oh? How do you know that? I've only been here a few hours.”

Archer smiled crookedly. “You haven't tried to take my head off. I consider that a must-have quality in any new member of the team.” His smile faded. “I know this is all a lot to take in, especially after leaving the crew you've treated like family, and without any warning. But this next bit, well, if you can deal with it, then you have my thumbs-up should you decide to stay.”

Kit didn't know how to respond to that, so she rode in silence. Archer was a strange man, shifting from one second to the next, but despite her reservations she found herself liking him.

Two minutes later, the doors opened.

The room before her was small compared to the facility above. Judging by the curving wall, it had to be near the bottom of the huge inverted dome that made up the OSA prison, though unlike what she had seen above, this room had just one occupant.

A team of technicians in scrubs worked at stations around the patient, some watching monitors closely while others pecked away at computer terminals, a few quietly speaking to one another. The impression of a hospital setting was marred by the trio of soldiers stationed at the patient's right. All three relaxed in reclining chairs, one sleeping as the other two kept watch, assault rifles casually draped across their chests.

Kit turned. “What is this?”

Archer motioned her forward without a word.

She walked toward the bed, all but ignored by the medical staff but definitely an object of attention to the soldiers. Each gave her a small nod, just a jerk of the head, but that one tiny motion said volumes.
Y
es, you can go forward. You're here, and that means you've been vouched for. But we're watching and no matter how important you are, we will do our duty.

She stopped on the side of the bed opposite the soldiers and looked down at the patient. His breathing was deep and even. He was thin, clearly weakened by a long time spent in bed. IV lines sprouted from his arms, which were in turn were held by straps. Kit could see the shape of other restraints beneath the sheet covering him. But it was his face that captured her completely. Though the features were altered by a thin beard and the pointed gauntness brought on by weight loss, it was unmistakably the face of Ray Elliot.

Who, according to every source imaginable, was a dead man.

Archer spoke softly. “You said I had a problem with the Next. I do. But it isn't prejudice the way you think about it. Look at this man. Really look at him. He didn't know what he was doing when he killed all those people. It wasn't his fault. He had no idea what was happening to him, and no clue how to stop it.”

Kit looked over her shoulder at Archer, but the big man's eyes were locked on the still form in front of them. Archer's face looked haunted, but there was pity in his eyes, and compassion.

“
I don't hate him for what he is or what he did. But you're right. I worry about your people. Day and night. Because some of them—like him—have powers they don't understand, and that lack of knowledge can have consequences. People like Ray here aren't the worst of it. Our job is to go up against people who have a grasp on their powers. I don't hate the Next for what they are. I'm terrified of what they can do.”

Archer sighed and rested his hands on the bed rails. “I fear them because they're
people
, agent Singh. Because when you give them power, they do what people have always done with it. They abuse it.”

Kit shook her head. “Not all of them. Not always.”

Archer's mouth quirked. “Not you, you mean. No, no,” he said, forestalling her response. “I'm not saying all Next will abuse their abilities, but I know damn well that there are enough to keep us busy. I respect the ones who do good things with their abilities, don't get me wrong. But if you're going to be my partner, you need to understand that the world is a much bigger place than Helix. There are things that you'll have to learn that very few people know, starting with this room. There are a lot of secrets in this job. I need to know you can handle them. Keep them.”

Kit was silent. Being pulled from the safety of Helix had felt like a betrayal at first. She'd put everything into the unit, dedicated herself to becoming the best at what she did. But in just a few hours at the OSA, she had begun to see the outline of an entire world that had been hidden from her. Helix was secretive, set apart. The sense of family there grew from being, if not exactly clandestine, then very quiet in their activities. They were all outcasts together.

Seeing the OSA agents in the main office, being joked with before even getting an introduction, and exposure to this place, the secrets Archer shared without hesitation, made her wonder. How much of her worldview was shaped by the choice to avoid the pitfalls that came with living in the world as what she was?

It was like stepping off a cliff, but Kit made her choice.

“I'm with you, Archer. For now, anyway. I don't know how deep this rabbit-hole goes, but you have my attention.”

Archer grinned. “Good. For all his faults, I didn't think Robinson would send me anything less than his best.”

Kit turned to face him. “But you're going to explain some things to me. Starting with how this man is alive.”

Archer nodded. “Of course, I'll be happy to.” A tone sounded overhead, and from every phone in the room. A cool female voice echoed from around the room.

“Director Archer, please report to dispatch at your earliest convenience. Lieutenant Snyder has reported activity and requires assistance. This is a code yellow request.”

Archer scrubbed a hand over his face. “Well. Looks like you're going to learn by doing. I'll answer questions on the way.”

Though Kit had concerns about being thrust into the public eye so quickly, it couldn't be denied that Archer had a nice ride to get her there.

Being director of well-funded government agency meant having first pick of the company cars, but Archer eschewed that option, opting to drive his own vehicle. Kit noted that the Mustang was as clean and polished as the man's office was cluttered and musty.

Cruising down I-64 at a healthy (and probably illegal) pace even with the light flashing on the roof, Kit was thankful it was a hardtop. The engine didn't roar, but the purr was a growl loud enough to compete with the wind buffeting the car as Archer effortlessly swooped between other drivers.

It wasn't scary for someone who spent much of her time throwing herself into danger, but it
was
distracting.

“
Wait, wait,” Kit said. “Repeat that. I'm having a hard time paying attention, here.”

Archer looked relaxed, which was impressive considering how cramped he was behind the wheel of the old muscle car. Sunglasses kept the sun out of his eyes, but his nearly ever-present smile caused them to ride up. “Sorry about that, Agent Singh. I don't usually have passengers. Want me to slow down?”

“No,” she replied. “And call me Kit. If we're going to work together, I'd like to keep it informal if we can. And if you don't mind, don't advertise that I'm from Helix.”

Archer waved a hand. “Of course. That's your call to make. Now, where was I? Ah, yeah. I was telling you about the aftermath in Fairmont.”

“Explaining how Ray Elliot survived the blast, yes. Which seems to be a roundabout way of explaining how he's still alive since I already
know
he lived through Fairmont.”

Archer grunted. “Yeah, well. It gives context. See, Elliot loses control when his boyfriend dies, and the easiest way to explain what happened is to call it an explosion. But it wasn't, really. Whatever juice Ray Elliot has, it doesn't blow things up. The energy he emits grabs onto inorganic matter and just reduces it to basic elements. We know now that the initial reaction he created wasn't by itself powerful enough to carve out that pit. Our theory is that the energy snatched from the matter he disintegrated fueled a domino effect. Basically the entire town puffed into dust, but Elliot himself acted like a magnet. When he started to fall, the dust shot toward him and acted like a giant cushion.”

Archer went silent. Kit saw the smile melt away. His voice was soft. “The rest of the people in Fairmont weren't so lucky. The reports say the people closest to Ray Elliot died immediately. That initial reaction just ripped the life right out of them.

“
Outside of about fifty feet, though, the people didn't die from the blast. When the ground vanished underneath them, gravity did the rest.”

“
Oh, my god,” Kit said. “Jesus, I had no idea. Why don't people know? That's so horrible.”

Archer sighed. “You tell me, Kit. Why wouldn't we want the general populace knowing that particular fact?”

It only took her a moment. “Because people would have lost their minds. Wouldn't have mattered that Fairmont was dead either way. Knowing those people were still alive when they fell would have added a whole new layer of terror. God, just thinking about how scared they must have been when they fell is making
me
nervous.”

“
Yeah,” he said. “When the feds pulled Elliot out of the bottom of that pit, he was laying in the middle of an impact crater made of dust and corpses. He didn't wake up for nearly a month, and by then everyone in the world knew his name. All the anonymous leaks in the meantime changed the world. The rest of the planet thinks he killed himself when he was told what happened, and it's better for everyone if we let them keep on thinking that.”

Kit let out a disgusted snort. “You keep him doped up and let people believe he took his own life. I see the logic. I just don't like it.”

Archer fidgeted in his seat. “To be fair, he really did try to commit suicide. That was back in the very beginning, when Robinson was in charge of the cleanup and the cover-up. The guards got to Elliot before he could bleed out. Robinson made a deal with him.”

“
Deal?” Kit said. “Doesn't seem to be much in it for Elliot.”

“
Listen,” Archer said, his voice suddenly rough and hard. “You were, what, thirteen when all this happened? Elliot was a grown man. He understood the scope of what he did—yes, I know it wasn't his fault, but it
did
happen because of him—and he was fucking crushed by it. It broke him so badly that he couldn't live with it. And when Robinson gave him a chance to make some kind of amends, he jumped at it.”

Kit opened her mouth to speak, but Archer swiped his hand across the car. “No. You want to know the truth? Ray Elliot is a lab rat. He made the
choice
to be a lab rat. When Robinson asked permission to study his physiology, to learn more and maybe prevent another Fairmont from happening, Elliot agreed. It was Elliot himself who asked to be put into a chemically-induced coma, and to have guards ready to shoot him at the first sign of a repeat performance.”

“
Oh,” Kit said.

Archer took a few deep breaths. His demeanor went from agitated to relaxed in short order, and within a handful of seconds he seemed placid again. Kit wasn't fooled. The man carried something deep inside that always wanted to get out. She's seen it before, watched men snap and lose the tight control that got them through the day.

“Look, we don't have to talk about this any more, I don't want to upset you.”

Archer cut in, firm but not angry. “No, I'm sorry. I've lived in this area my whole life. It's hard to talk about, and I'm as conflicted about Ray Elliot as you might expect, but it's all stuff you have to know. It's fine. There isn't much else, I guess. You know the facility houses the most dangerous Next we've ever heard of. I'll show you around the secondary sections tomorrow. That's where the labs are, the machine shops, and the guts of the facility.”

“Okay, sounds good to me,” Kit said, somewhat relieved. “I think you've given me enough to chew on for a day.”

He pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead, nearly brushing the roof. He scratched under an eye. “You're actually handling it better than the last guy did on his first day. And you know the biggest of the big secrets you'll have to keep.”

Kit's eyebrows shot up. “There are other secrets that big?”

Archer's laugh boomed inside the small car. “Maybe not as huge as us sitting on a human nuclear weapon a few miles outside a fair-sized metropolitan area, no.” He looked at Kit and flashed her a wink. “But in this business, as I'm sure you learned at Helix, there are
always
more secrets.”

She could only respond to that with silence. Not because she didn't understand. Just the opposite. Kit knew the truth of it all too well.

They were ten miles from their destination when Archer pulled over. There was extra time before their meeting. The trip should have taken an hour, but thanks to Archer's driving, only forty minutes had passed.

On the shoulder of the interstate, he threw the car into park, and with an effort managed to turn sideways in his seat. In the shuffle his sunglasses scraped the roof and fell. He scrambled to catch them and accidentally slapped Kit in the chest. He turned red, snatched the glasses from the median and tossed them on the dash.

“You touched my boob,” Kit said.

He went from bright red to a lovely maroon. “Sorry,” he said.

“That could be construed as sexual harassment, Director Archer. Except I don't know who I could report it to. Robinson, maybe?”

It hardly seemed possible, but the big man almost went purple. He looked anywhere he could except at Kit.

Then she couldn't hold it back any longer and laughed, slapping his shoulder. After a few seconds he chuckled along with her.

“
Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “The look on your face was just too good. I couldn't help it.”

He waved her apology away. “It's fine. It's just, you know, I'm about to give this boss speech and ask you a favor, and that happens,” he said. “I don't, uh, really spend a lot of time around women who aren't my direct subordinates, and I'm not that kind of boss.”

Kit smiled at that. “Good to know. Just remember, next time buy me dinner first.”

Archer gaped, and she burst into laughter all over again.

When she got herself under control he gave her a look that clearly asked if she was finished. She motioned for him to go on, not trusting herself not to giggle at him.

“
Thank you. Look, we've got a bit before we have to be there. We go into the field most days, but we're the ones in charge. The teams get there ahead of us and get the lay of the land, collate data, set up operations if needed. We have a lot of practice and work together well.”

“
You want me to sit this one out, then?”

Archer grimaced. “I want you to observe. It's not a question of your abilities, but these situations can get delicate.”

Kit nodded. “Sure, no problem.”

Archer waited. Carefully.

She shrugged. “What, did you pull over expecting me to argue with you for a quarter hour about it? I get it. I spent a lot of time training, practicing, and then observing before I was ever sent on a mission. Your team has a routine and a rapport. You want to minimize risk to them and to anyone involved. I understand, Archer. I really do. I respect it.”

The big man let out a breath. Kit thought she understood his tension a little better. He spent his life around people who could kill him with minimal effort. Intellectually he understood that Kit wasn't a threat to him, but viscerally he
had
to become nervous and ready for action in the presence of a Next. It wasn't about politics or prejudices.

It was about survival. His reaction to what she could do was a feature of the human nervous system and brain, not a bug.

He put the car in gear and with barely a glance jetted back out into traffic. Together they moved toward an unknown that filled her with curiosity and his eyes with fear.