"Did you do that?" a
Resistance fighter demanded, gesturing angrily in the direction of the
two prostrate rebels.
Kevin looked from the
newcomer to the two he'd downed—one who was currently shrieking in
agony and one who would never shriek again—to the guns he was holding
and then back to the Resistance fighter before saying, "No."
"What's going on?" The next
speaker had a pistol of his own but, unlike his compatriots, made no
move to use it.
"He shot them!" One of the
sweepers that Kevin had rescued was now pointing at him, voice shrill
with fear. "We asked him to stay and he just shot them!" It was
clear to everyone watching that he hoped the man would take his words
at face value.
Kevin focused on the man,
his eyes narrowed into cold slits. Fuck, but he'd take on these others
too, if they dared to stop him!
"Why would he do that?"
There was something very vaguely familiar about this person, now that
Kevin thought about it...
"I've no idea! He just
started shooting! He's crazy!"
There was a shuffling sound
as everyone edged away from the speaker. Describing an acolyte—even one
off the dose—as 'crazy' wasn't generally conducive to a long and
healthy life.
"Perhaps you'd like to find
out just how crazy I can be," Kevin said icily. Calmly,
seemingly without thinking about it, the newcomer stepped between the
two of them to look the acolyte squarely in the eyes.
"What did he do?"
"What?" Kevin and the
sweeper said together, in completely different tones.
"He must have done
something," the stranger said, now solely addressing Kevin. "You're
feeling, because if you weren't, we'd all be dead, and you don't bring
someone in just to kill them which means he must have done something
between now and then." He shook his head. "Frankly, I wouldn't be
surprised if he'd made some sort of stupid mistake. You might say it's
a habit of his."
"Hey!"
"The acolyte was provoked,"
someone else said, then, "sort of. He said he wanted to leave and those
guys attempted to stop him." The speaker nodded towards the two men
Kevin had shot. The other two had ducked into the crowd at the earliest
opportunity and were now attempting to look properly outraged with the
rest of them.
"I see." The person that
Kevin had mentally categorised as the leader didn't seem too surprised
by this. He shot a cold stare at the two sweepers the acolyte had
brought in who were still standing, and who he was now wishing
fervently he'd left to the sweepers. Judging from the men's
expressions, the feeling was pretty much mutual.
"Alright," the stranger
added, addressing the sweepers. "Get out of here."
"But he just—"
"I said out. If
you're insane enough to try and take a Grammaton acolyte prisoner,
don't blame me when he gets upset. You're surprised he shot your friend
in the kneecap? I would have shot him in the groin."
Kevin glanced at him,
startled. He found himself warming very slightly towards this man.
"I wish you hadn't killed
the other though," the other went on, speaking to Kevin. "There's few
enough of us as it is."
"Is this the part where I'm
supposed to apologise?" Kevin said dryly.
"If I thought you would, I'd
say yes. Since I think that's what you want me to say as you have no
intention of doing so, I don't see why I should give you the
satisfaction."
There was a brief pause
while Kevin turned this bizarre answer round and round in his mind,
trying to make some sense of it. If only he could remember where he'd
seen him before...
"Well. Since we don't take
prisoners in the Resistance—" this was said with a cold look at Kevin's
previous companions "—you are free to leave whenever you choose,
acolyte. Needless to say, you won't breathe a word of this to your
friends at the Tetra Grammaton."
"Oh, of course not,"
Kevin said, unable to keep the mocking drawl out of his tones and not
even bothering to try very hard. "My lips are completely and utterly
sealed."
"Good." If he'd picked up on
the acolyte's sarcasm, the older man gave no sign. "Excuse me." He
strode past Kevin, towards a dispenser.
At that point, the name
which had been niggling at Kevin all through the preceding dialogue
finally grabbed him by the throat and screamed in his face. The acolyte
stared at the rebel, memory kicking in.
"Jurgen?"
The man paused, glancing
over his shoulder, then stopped and turned to get a better look,
frowning slightly as if trying to place him. Kevin continued staring,
incredulity replacing his anger.
"It is you, isn't
it?"
"Yeah. Who..." Jurgen's
voice tailed off. "You...aren't you that acolyte I met in the Nethers a
couple of years ago?"
"Two years."
"Yeah. I tried to get you to
come along with me and you said...what was it now? Go fuck myself
sideways, as I recall."
Kevin at least had the grace
to drop his gaze as the appreciative snickers echoed around him.
"Given this performance—"
Jurgen looked at the two rebels still on the floor, "—I think I'm very
glad I didn't attempt to press the issue."
The acolyte raised an
eyebrow.
"That makes two rebels I've
met with brains. Wonders will never cease, it seems."
Jurgen smiled slightly.
"Who was the second?"
"Guy called Sam, at least,
that's what I heard."
"That doesn't really narrow
it down."
"No, but that could be why
that's the only name I was given for him. Why do you care, anyway?"
Now Jurgen was grinning
broadly.
"I care because if there's
someone who gets your respect, he must have something special.
I can use people like that."
Kevin snorted.
"Sorry. Can't help you." He
paused for all of two seconds before adding, "and I'll take back the
sorry part as well. Now, it's been crappy and I really have to go." He
turned, noticing with satisfaction that the exit was now clear.
With surprising speed,
Jurgen crossed the space between them and came to stand in front of the
acolyte.
"Wait, don't go! Not yet."
Kevin raised his eyebrows.
"No? Why not? What happened
to—" he dropped into Jurgen's voice "—'you are free to leave whenever
you choose'?"
There were a few more
snickers at that, but Kevin didn't bother about them; they weren't
gloating or mocking and therefore they weren't worth bothering about
either.
Jurgen spread his hands out
to the side.
"Look. Give me...what? Ten
minutes? Enough time for a coffee?"
Kevin hesitated. He had to
admit, that idea did hold a certain appeal; not only was he thirsty, it
was bloody freezing in the Underground as well.
"One coffee?" he said
cautiously. Jurgen snorted.
"Yeah, one coffee. Our
supplies are stretched enough as it is, without wasting it on someone
who isn't even a part of this."
Kevin considered this, then
shrugged. It seemed reasonable.
"Fine. One coffee, then I'm
outta here."
He followed Jurgen through a
door into a small room, and was pleased to note the other door on the
opposite wall. Running deeper into the Underground wasn't an ideal
situation, but it was good to know he had another way out if Jurgen
decided to turn nasty.
Jurgen jerked a thumb
towards a crudely built wooden bench that had been pushed against one
wall, reaching for the kettle as he did so.
"Have a seat."
Kevin shook his head.
"I'll stand."
"Please yourself. You take
milk?"
"No." The acolyte crossed to
stand next to Jurgen. "And stand aside; I'll do it myself."
Jurgen raised his eyebrows,
unoffended.
"Oh, so you think I'm going
to poison you now?"
Kevin added a couple of
liberally heaped teaspoons of coffee into his mug as he answered,
"Well, yeah. After all, if you wanted to kill me, you'd never be able
to do it with a gun." He added boiling water, then turned to raise the
mug in a mocking toast. "Cheers, Jurgen, if that really is your name."
He took a swallow. The coffee was somewhat bitter without sweeteners,
but palatable, and most importantly, hot.
Jurgen studied the young
man. He was, like Barrett and DuPont before him, not entirely sure what
to make of the acolyte other than he verged on the paranoid. Well, he
supposed he couldn't blame him for that. Jurgen knew almost better than
anyone that you didn't survive by trusting everyone you met.
"What do they call you,
acolyte?" he said suddenly.
"I wouldn't dare repeat it,"
Kevin answered, smirking slightly.
"Wouldn't dare repeat it
because it's offensive, or wouldn't dare repeat it because you're too
worried I'm going to give it away first chance I get?"
The acolyte took another
gulp of coffee – it gave him an excuse to avoid Jurgen's gaze, even
though the other man couldn't see that – before smiling mockingly at
him.
"Is this a coffee break or a
cross-examination?"
"Both," Jurgen said bluntly.
"You shot two of my men – oh, I'm not saying they didn't deserve it –
but if you want me to stop my people trying to ambush you on your way
out—"
"Your people?" Kevin
echoed pleasantly. "You've risen to be head of the entire Resistance in
two years?" He shook his head. "Man, if promotion's that fast, maybe I
oughta rethink my whole anti-rebel stance."
The moment the words were
out of his mouth, he cursed himself for giving Jurgen the ideal
opening. Somewhat predictably, the man pounced on it.
"Yeah, maybe you should.
We're not all insane down here."
"I was being sarcastic."
Kevin drained his coffee and plonked the now empty mug down on the
surface. "Well, that was surprisingly good for Resistance fare, I have
to say," he added more sincerely. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"
He started towards the door,
but Jurgen caught hold of his arm.
"Hold on. I want to ask you
something."
Kevin stared hard at the
older man's hand until Jurgen removed it, then returned his gaze to his
face and took a deep breath.
"Alright. One question, and
I'm not promising to answer."
Jurgen pretended to consider
the matter, then shrugged.
"Okay. You got a name?"
"Yeah."
"Well?" Jurgen said, when he
realised the acolyte wasn't going to say anything else. "What is it?"
Kevin shook his head,
smirking.
"Sorry man. That's two
questions."
Jurgen opened his mouth,
then closed it again as the door crashed open to admit a rebel.
"Jurgen, it—oh." He caught
sight of Kevin and hesitated. "Uh."
"What?" Jurgen said.
The man swallowed once or
twice.
"Scouts saw a Grammaton
vehicle cruising the area."
"Yeah?" Kevin stretched,
hoping the action concealed the vast relief he felt. "Sounds like my
ride's here." He quirked an eyebrow at Jurgen. "I'd say it's been a
pleasure, but I was brought up not to lie."
Jurgen shot a pointed look
at the other rebel, who ducked back through the door, shutting it
behind him.
"Look, acolyte...whatever
your name is. You can't go yet, not with the Tetra Grammaton sniffing
around."
Kevin snorted, not bothering
to hide his contempt.
"You think you can stop me?"
Jurgen rolled his eyes.
"Look, whoever you are, will
you stop acting as though I'm gonna betray you or attack at the
drop of a hat! No, I don't think I can stop you, but how are you going
to explain your sudden appearance from the Underground to your friends
up there?"
"That's my problem, not
yours. I only just came here, after all."
"Yeah, you did," Jurgen
agreed. "And do you know why you came?"
"Yeah, because those bastard
ex-sweepers got me to escort them through the Nethers. Why do you ask?"
Kevin shook his head. "Look, I don't ask for much. All I want is to be
left alone, to get on with my life in peace. As far as I'm concerned, I
never want to set eyes on another fucking sense offender for as long as
I live."
"That's going to be a little
hard for a Cleric," Jurgen remarked, his voice still even. "When do you
graduate, anyway?"
"Thinking of staking your
claim on me?" Kevin drawled. "You'll have a job; Equilibrium has
priority over all Clerics. But still...two years' time."
Jurgen did some rapid mental
arithmetic.
"So you're...what? Fifteen?"
"Sixteen. Too young to spy
out Equilibrium for you and almost too old to spy out the Monastery."
Jurgen shook his head,
smiling slightly.
"Acolyte, did it never occur
to you that maybe I don't want a prick like you on my team?"
"No," Kevin said baldly,
"since even if that's true for you, you're the exception rather than
the rule. Most people would jump at the chance of a sense offending
Cleric on their team and you know it."
"I'm not most people,"
Jurgen told him. "Come on, acolyte; if someone finds wherever you've
been stashing your Prozium—"
"They won't," Kevin said
with complete assurance. Jurgen broke off, eyeing him narrowly.
"You sound very sure."
"I am." The acolyte
hesitated. He hadn't even trusted Barrett enough to tell the
Vice-Council about this. But still, Jurgen would have his own reasons
to guard Kevin's secret. He lowered his voice until it was almost
inaudible. "I'm immune, okay?"
Jurgen snorted.
"Yeah, right."
"I'll prove it." Kevin
pulled out his injector and shot a dose of Prozium into his neck, then
quirked an eyebrow. "Satisfied?"
"Let me see that!" Jurgen
snatched the unit from the acolyte and snapped it open, saw the vials
inside and looked up to meet the acolyte's stare, or at least his dark
glasses. "Fuck me." He closed it, handing it back, staring openly. "You
really are immune."
"Yeah." Kevin took the hated
unit and slid it back into his pocket. "And if you dare breathe a word
to any of your friends—!"
"No." Jurgen shook his head.
"I don't know any of my friends I'd trust that much except a sense
offending Cleric we have, and I'll make damn sure he never finds out. I
promise." He shook his head again, an expression of wonder on his face
as he looked at Kevin. "How long?"
Kevin snorted.
"How long are you usually
immune to something? All my fucking life, that's how long!"
There was a silence.
"How have you survived all
this time?" Jurgen asked suddenly. "I wouldn't say that the Tetra
Grammaton was the safest place to be...unless your family are off the
dose...?" He let the sentence trail off suggestively.
"I live in the Monastery,"
the acolyte responded coolly.
Jurgen felt his jaw drop
open and he shut it again in a hurry, his face going crimson. The Tetra
Grammaton and any sense offending Clerics were usually extremely cagey
about the interior and training of Equilibrium, but there was one thing
that everyone either on or off the dose knew; only orphans lived and
were raised in the Monastery.
"Really? Oh shit, I'm sorry;
I didn't mean—"
"Don't be," the other cut
across. "It wasn't you who did it."
Looking at the young man's
face, Jurgen suddenly had a very good idea who had done it.
Shit. Man, how do you
live with something like that hanging over your head? he wondered.
"So...how have you
survived?" he pressed.
The look he got in reply was
faintly contemptuous.
"I survive the same way
anyone in my position would survive. I want to live long enough to
exterminate the Resistance. I can't do that all the time I'm an
acolyte. That's enough motivation for me to make sure the Tetra
Grammaton never pick up on anything."
The bluntness of the reply
caught Jurgen completely and utterly off guard. Numerous questions
assailed his senses, and he picked the first one that came to his lips.
"How?"
"Any way I can."
"Oh." It wasn't the most
sparkling reply, Jurgen had to admit, but he was at something of a
loss. It wasn't every day you ran into a sixteen year old who told you
quite calmly that he was going to kill you. "So...should I call for
backup right about now?" he said, not quite joking.
"No thanks, it's okay. I can
wait until I graduate," the acolyte responded, as politely as if Jurgen
had done nothing more than offer him a drink.
"You know," Jurgen said, "I
know our first meeting might have been a little...strained, and granted
that guy out there who attempted to keep you here was a complete
bastard, but just for curiosity's sake, would you mind explaining
exactly what the Resistance ever did to you?"
"Yeah. I would."
There was a definite hint of menace to the acolyte's tones now, and
Jurgen couldn't keep his gaze from flickering to the other's hands,
both of which were now pointing very slightly upwards. It wouldn't have
worried someone who didn't know much about Clerics (or
Clerics-in-training) but Jurgen knew for a fact that the only time a
Grammaton's hands were like that was a split second before he pulled
out his guns and started shooting. Discretion was probably the better
part of valour right now.
"Alright. Fine. It's none of
my business."
"Damn right."
"I was just wondering...you
know..." Jurgen hesitated, wondering how best to phrase the next part.
"If you really don't want anything to do with us—"
"I don't."
"—then fine, but are you
sure you're prejudiced against the right people?"
Judging from the cold smile
on the acolyte's face, this question wasn't entirely unexpected.
"Oh, here we go."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean." The
other did a surprisingly accurate impression of Jurgen's voice. "Join
the Resistance. You shouldn't be against us; we're all sense offenders
like you. Why don't you turn against the Tetra Grammaton instead? You
know, blow up a few sweepers, murder the odd Cleric or two...oh, and
while you've got your guns out, could you just pop across and kill
Father, and then the rest of the day's your own?"
Jurgen almost laughed,
caught it just in time.
"You think this is all just
some spiel? Join us, let's be buddies, you can help us out?"
"Well, isn't it?"
"Partly," Jurgen conceded,
not stupid enough to deny the charge entirely. "Yes, partly."
"Right," Kevin raised his
eyebrows. "So you think that after all the shit you guys have caused
me, I'm just gonna agree to join your team?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Tell me something, Jurgen. Do you want me on your team as a member
of your team, a potential asset with strengths and weaknesses just like
the rest of your people, or do you just want a pet agent?"
There was a silence. The
faintest ghost of a grim smile touched the corners of Kevin's mouth.
"I thought as much," he
said, and turned to leave.
"I already have one."
The acolyte froze mid-step,
then turned. His instincts were still telling him to get the fuck out,
and soon, but this was too interesting to walk out on now.
"One what?"
"One 'pet agent', as you
call them." Jurgen sipped his coffee as though it was no big deal.
"There's a Cleric who's quite heavily involved with the Resistance.
That guy I told you earlier, remember?"
Kevin's interest quickened.
"Yeah? What's his name?"
Jurgen regarded him through
slightly narrowed eyes.
"I'm not telling you. Not
yet, anyway. I don't want you to betray him."
"Why not? Too afraid of
losing the edge in this war, Resistance fighter?"
"No," Jurgen said steadily.
"I don't want you to betray him because he happens to be my friend."
The other snorted and looked
away.
"Yeah, right. Fuck's sake,
Jurgen; Resistance fighters don't even know the meaning of that word."
"You think?" The older man
raised his eyebrows slightly. "Personally, I'd say you're the one who's
having trouble with it. You haven't met many rebels, have you?"
Kevin narrowed his own eyes.
"I've met enough."
There was a silence, then
Jurgen said, "Yes, that figures."
"What?" The acolyte tensed
almost imperceptibly. "What figures?"
Jurgen shrugged as though
the answer didn't matter.
"There are other sense
offenders, besides the Resistance. Some of those have, shall we say,
various scores to settle with the Tetra Grammaton?"
He barely had time to blink
before he was suddenly staring down the twin barrels of two automatic
pistols.
"And what," the
acolyte's tone was deadly soft and Jurgen knew he was about half a
second away from death, "gives you that fucked-up idea?"
Jurgen swallowed hard, his
hands shooting reflexively into the air.
Don't act scared. That's
what this guy wants. He wants your fear, was reverberating
over and over in his mind, and it might have interested him to know
that Kevin's train of thought was travelling equally rapidly along an
almost identical track.
"Jurgen?" The door clicked
open again to admit a woman who looked to be somewhere between Kevin's
age and Jurgen's, possibly in her early twenties. She was beautiful as
well, a small part of Kevin's mind pointed out.
The acolyte grimaced,
wondering what the hell it would take to stop his mind making
observations like that and suspecting that the answer wasn't something
he could get very easily. Certainly not in Libria, that was for sure.
The woman continued,
seemingly unaware of the thoughts running riot through Kevin's mind.
"James said there was a
problem upstairs. Do we have everyone in from..." She broke off,
noticing the situation for the first time. "Uh. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah...this guy
was...uh...working on a self-defence routine," Jurgen lied. "Showing
me...um..."
"I was about to blow his
brains out, such as they are," Kevin cut in matter-of-factly, "and if
he doesn't get out of my way right now, I'm still going to."
"Really?" Jurgen said,
unable to keep the mocking bite out of his tones. "And we were getting
on so well, too." He shook his head. "Look. Shooting me won't get you
anywhere."
"Hm." The acolyte tipped his
head on one side as he pretended to consider. "You know, I think you
may be right." Keeping one gun pointed firmly at Jurgen's face, he
swung the other around to the woman. "Now, who shall I kill? Your
choice. Choose quickly, though, or I'll choose for you."
"Jurgen, get out of his
way!" Fear, or something very like it, made the woman's voice sharp.
"He means it."
"Yes, that's the thing about
Grammaton agents," Kevin agreed smoothly. "We're not exactly known for
our sense of humour." He shook his head. "Listen to me, both of you.
The Resistance and I don't exactly get on."
"I'm not surprised, if you
do this kind of thing a lot," Jurgen retorted, and got a painful kick
in the ankle from the woman for his trouble. "Ow! Shit, Mary, what was
that for?"
"It is not a good
idea to criticise someone who's pointing a loaded gun at your head,"
the woman called Mary hissed at him out the corner of her mouth.
"I heard that," Kevin said
easily, "and she's right."
"It was an innocent enough
remark," Jurgen told him, refusing to be intimidated. "And if you want
to kill us, go ahead, but you'd be making one hell of a mistake."
"Yeah?" For apparently no
reason, the acolyte laughed. "Well. It's a habit of mine." He shifted
his weight slightly; holding his arms out for so long was starting to
play hell with his injured shoulder.
"Are you alright?" That was
from Mary who, like Jurgen, had her hands in the air. Oddly enough,
Kevin wasn't so bothered about her; something said that she wasn't
hostile. "Do you need medical attention?"
"Medical attention? From the
Resistance?" Kevin snorted. "Been there, done that, got the virus."
"Were you the one who
destroyed the ECG?" Jurgen said suddenly.
The acolyte smirked.
"You heard about that, huh?
Yeah. You're lucky I didn't destroy the medic while I was at it after
what happened."
"He's the reason why you're
so against the Resistance?"
Kevin shifted his weight.
This was getting dangerously personal.
"Let's just say he didn't do
anything to help my feelings towards it." He paused. "Or maybe he did,
depending on how you look at it, I guess."
"Someone—" Jurgen broke off.
"Look, can I put my hands down? My arms are killing me."
"No," Kevin told him
cruelly. Jurgen considered his options briefly, then nodded.
"Okay. Like I was saying,
someone needed that."
"You're assuming I care,"
Kevin said, in his best lofty tones. "Far as I'm concerned, it's just
one less person to worry about and if it had happened to someone in the
Tetra Grammaton, you'd say the exact same thing."
"Maybe you're right," Jurgen
said unexpectedly. "Maybe I'd be better off—"
"What? Killing me?" Kevin
snorted. "Oh please, go right ahead. Just make it quick." When Jurgen
didn't move immediately, he rolled his eyes. "Look, I'll even make it
easy for you. Here." He knelt, placing one gun on the floor, then
slapped the other into the startled man's hand. "One shot in the head
ought to do it nicely."
Jurgen looked at the gun as
though he'd never seen it before, then turned it upside down to read
the name on the base.
"Grammaton Cleric 219, Kevin
Halls." He turned the gun back, pointing it at the young man. "I
thought you said you were an acolyte."
"I am. They just can't be
assed to differentiate, and anyway, they'd only have to reissue or
remark the guns, which could affect the balance when firing. Speaking
of firing, are you going to shoot or just read it?" Hidden behind his
dark glasses, he closed his eyes.
Jurgen considered, then
raised the gun so it pointed at the ceiling and squeezed off a round.
Kevin jerked involuntarily – there was no way he could have stopped
himself – then opened his eyes, saw the hole in the ceiling, and curled
his lip.
"So you can't even kill me."
"Kill? Sure. Murder?" Jurgen
shook his head, replaced the safety, turned the gun back around and
presented it to the acolyte, who took it with a somewhat stunned
expression. "I have a problem with that. I'm not going to shoot you
just because you're in the wrong job or because you don't want to do
things my way. That would make me no better than your friends in
Libria." He took a deep breath, praying to a god he didn't believe in
that he hadn't just made the biggest – and last – mistake of his life.
"So let me throw your own words back at you; you want to kill me, go
ahead, but make it fast."
Kevin snapped the safety off
and started to squeeze the trigger. Jurgen swallowed hard, realising
for the first time that he'd underestimated the young man's
determination.
Things might have turned out
very differently if the door hadn't chosen that moment to open again,
and a young woman came in backwards, carrying a tray.
"Where do you want this?"
"Alana, get out of here!"
Jurgen said sharply. Kevin cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Friend of yours, Jurgen?
Maybe I won't kill you. Maybe I'll kill her instead. Her and Mary, of
course." He glanced at Mary, who swallowed but met his gaze steadily.
The girl called Alana turned
around to look at him, and the acolyte promptly forgot any thoughts of
killing anyone.
"You?" he said, staring
openly.
"You!" The same girl he'd
met in the Nethers two days ago put the tray on a table and planted
both hands on her hips as she glared at him. "Still up to your old
tricks, acolyte?"
Kevin favoured her with a
plastic smile.
"No, actually, I'm working
on all new tricks now."
"You're still trying to kill
defenceless rebels though!"
The acolyte glanced at
Jurgen.
"Is she for real?"
"Believe it."
"What's that supposed to
mean?" Alana demanded, shifting the glare onto Jurgen, who met it
squarely.
"Good question. Let me ask
you one. Do you know this guy?"
Alana turned the glare back
on Kevin, who managed to keep from squirming with a supreme effort.
"Yeah, I do. I found him
skulking in my building two days ago, during that storm."
"Your building?"
Kevin exploded, rounding on her suddenly and forgetting all about
Jurgen and Mary. "What the fuck do you mean, your building?"
"Hmm." Alana tipped her head
on one side to regard him. "The building that belongs to me, the
building that is mine, the building of which I have ownership...any of
these mean anything to you?"
"It was in the Nethers!
Nobody owns anything in the Nethers!" Kevin scowled briefly,
remembering too late that he had an audience. "And anyway, I was there
first!"
"Exactly, which meant it was
my turn to shelter." The girl took her hands off her hips and crossed
them over her chest instead, much to Kevin's private regret. "So why
are you trying to kill these people? I know you're pretty jumpy for an
acolyte, but this borders on pure psycho. What'd they ever do to you?"
"Yeah, what'd we ever do to
you?" Jurgen cut in. "Ow! Jesus, Mary!"
And Joseph, no doubt,
Kevin thought wryly, then clamped down on that. The last thing he
wanted was for them to see him as relaxing around them.
"I don't know what you're
talking about," Mary said to Jurgen, not very convincingly.
"Yes you do; you stamped
right on my—"
"I did no such thing," Mary
said pointedly.
Jurgen took a deep breath
and wondered if this could possibly work.
"Look, there are things I
have to do," he said to the acolyte, then glanced at Alana. "Can't you
keep him occupied, stop him tearing the place to pieces?"
Alana made a face.
"Oh god, do I have to?"
"No, she doesn't!" Kevin
said sharply. Jurgen raised cool eyebrows.
"You've already said often
enough that you're not a part of this Resistance. Fine. But if that's
the case, don't come in here and give orders." He looked over at Alana.
"Keep him occupied," he repeated, then turned and walked out, hoping
like hell he wasn't going to get a bullet in the back.
Mary glanced from one to the
other.
"I better go too. We have
some new people arriving shortly."
"What?" Kevin shot her a
startled look. "No, you can't—" He bit his tongue, hard. He had been
going to say you can't leave me on my own with this girl, but
somehow he found he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.
"Can't what?" Mary shook her
head. "Look, you didn't shoot Jurgen, so you're not going to shoot me
either."
There was a flaw in this
logic somewhere, Kevin knew, but for the life of him he couldn't seem
to find it. Before he could open his mouth to argue further, Mary had
left.
The acolyte dropped onto one
of the hard benches with a sour expression. He wasn't sure where he'd
lost control of that situation, but he had a nagging suspicion that it
had been when that damn girl had showed up again.
Right now, the damn girl in
question was staring hard at him, so hard that after a while even the
acolyte felt uncomfortable.
"What's your name, anyway?"
she said suddenly.
Kevin glanced at her, then
thought what the hell.
"Halls."
"Your first name, I mean."
The acolyte shifted
slightly. This was getting a little too friendly for his liking.
"After all, Jurgen did say I
was to keep you occupied," Alana added matter-of-factly.
Kevin arched a mocking
eyebrow.
"Yeah? I didn't know sex was
an approved method of distraction."
"Oh yeah; it's the most
effective way of distracting a man off the dose." Alana ran hands
through her dark hair, flipping it casually behind one shoulder and
shot him a challenging look. Kevin honestly wasn't sure whether or not
she was joking and decided it was probably better not to ask.
"Kevin," he said instead,
reluctantly.
"Kevin." Alana rolled the
name around in her mouth, trying it out. "Kev?"
The acolyte tightened his
jaw slightly; this really was getting too intimate!
"If you like," he said
stiffly.
Alana eyed him appraisingly.
"You know, I didn't notice
this in the Nethers, but for an acolyte, you're sorta cute."
To his surprise, Kevin felt
himself growing uncomfortably hot.
"Uh...thanks." It was lame,
he knew that, but he had no idea what else to say.
"What would you like to do?"
Alana asked suddenly. "After this is all over?"
"I'll be dead by then,"
Kevin answered, somewhat stiffly.
"Hmm." Alana sat down next
to him, leaning against him very slightly. The acolyte went rigid and
she swatted him lightly on the arm. "Will you relax? I don't bite." She
smiled up at him. "At least, not on a first date."
Kevin reddened, trying to
think of how best to extricate himself without pissing this girl off
and at the same time wondering why he cared what she thought of him.
"You seem nervous," Alana
said, snuggling her head onto his chest, seemingly oblivious to the
fact that every muscle in the acolyte's body was stiff as a board. "I
like that. It's a nice change from most Resistance fighters. They're
usually only too eager."
"I'm not a Resistance
fighter," Kevin said, but it was in the monotone of someone whose voice
is running on automatic. Parts of his body he'd never taken much notice
of before were stirring restlessly, demanding his immediate attention.
Alana laughed.
"No, I heard about that."
Kevin jerked away
involuntarily, spilling her sideways onto the bench and ignoring her
indignant squawk.
"What? What did you hear?"
"Just that you went around
denouncing the Resistance to anyone who would listen and everyone who
wouldn't."
"I...uh..." Kevin coughed.
"Well...um..."
"It's alright," Alana said
with a shrug. "I'm sure you have your reasons." There was a hint of a
question in that last sentence, one that Kevin chose to ignore.
"Yeah," he said abruptly.
There was a slightly awkward silence.
"Well, I guess it's your own
business," Alana said finally, when it became clear Kevin wasn't going
to spill his secrets there and then.
"Too right."
Alana grinned.
"You know, I like a guy who
knows his own mind."
"Um." For a moment, Kevin
really wished Barrett was still alive. The old man could probably have
given him a solution to this problem quicker than thought...when he'd
stopped laughing at the idea of Kevin Halls having girl troubles, that
was.
"Though I did hear about
that incident with Cross—"
"Look!" Kevin shot to his
feet. "Whatever you heard or didn't hear, my life is my business! I
don't plan to discuss it with anyone, least of all some dumb rebel!"
Alana raised her eyebrows.
"Some dumb rebel? Is that
all I am to you?"
"What else would you be?"
the acolyte retorted, although deep down he already knew the answer she
wanted.
The girl got to her feet.
"Well, if that's really what
you think, I'll go and find something better to do with my time than
spend it with you!"
"Good!"
"Good!"
They glared at each other
furiously for a few minutes.
"Like I'd be seen dead with
someone like you, anyway," Alana added in a slightly calmer tone.
"You're just the same as your friends; all you or they think about is
murdering and torturing anyone who dares get in your way."
"Funny," Kevin said icily.
"I was about to say the same thing about you."
He barely had time to duck
before her hand came flying through the air towards his face – she
really was fast! – then training took over and he seized her wrist,
twisting it back in a goose lock. The pain involved was crippling, as
he himself could bear witness.
"Next time," he added,
pulling her in close and ignoring her gasp, "don't be so fucking
obvious." He released her, prudently backing out of arm's reach. Alana
whirled to glare at him and to his own private amazement, Kevin found
himself taking half a step away from her.
"Excuse me! I was
just trying to be nice, acolyte. It's not my fault you
never had a chance to learn how to handle it."
"All I learned,"
Kevin shot back with biting sarcasm, "is that people are only ever nice
or concerned about me when they want something or just before they try
to kill or injure me in some way. I'm not into doing favours for the
Resistance, in case you hadn't figured that out."
Alana shook her head
scornfully.
"There are other reasons to
be nice to someone, Kevin Halls."
"Yeah?" Kevin snorted
contemptuously. "Prove it."
There was a long, drawn out
silence.
"I tried," Alana said, her
voice barely audible. "See you around, acolyte." She turned and walked
away soundlessly.
Kevin watched her go, then
wondered what on earth he had just done.
