Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga (9 page)

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Same as you. Do you find that odd?”

“You seem pretty okay with all this
yourself.”

“That’s because I was born here. I’m a
Paladin breed. I was made to do this. You are a genetic mutation
and that’s why so many Paladins are all enthusiastic about you.
They love mutations. They have this false hope that nature will
provide the right combination of DNA to improve our race. But if
you want to know the truth, you are just an abnormality, a random
chance. If you think about it, it’s like squirting paint on a
canvas hoping it will become the Mona Lisa.” He twitched. “Do you
understand?”

Did I just get insulted?

Broak clasped his hands behind his back and
looked into the pond below. He sniffed the air and sneered, then
brushed a bit of dust from his chest. The grimmets rustled
nervously, never taking their eyes off him.

“Whether you know it or not,” he said
without turning, “you are somewhere in between, dear Socket.”

“In between what?”

“This world and the one you came from, where
the regular people live.” He looked over his shoulder. “I sincerely
doubt you can go back. In case you haven’t noticed, they don’t know
we exist.”

Whether South Carolina was my home or not, I
knew right then and there I didn’t want to end up wearing a onsey
in jungle colors. And the
dear
thing was really stepping on
my nerves.

Broak walked along the rocky ledge. The
grimmets stirred a cloud of dust getting out of his way. Broak
glared at them crawling along the branches. He brushed his chest
off again.

“You don’t like this place,” I said.

“I am not a fan of the Preserve,” he said,
wiping each arm, dutifully. “It is absolutely filthy. It is
unorganized. Unpredictable. Pivot belongs here, not me. After all,
the Paladins built it for him.”

“They built what? That tree?”

“The entire Preserve.”

5.2 square miles of tropical jungle, all
for one person?
“That’s impossible.”

He brushed both arms, both legs, licked the
back of his hand and rubbed it off. Clean as a cat. Broak squatted
next to Pivot, brushed the hair from his eyes. Pivot did not
move.

“He is a mutant. Like you. Although you had
the benefit of your father’s association with the Paladin Nation,
Pivot came from the general population. He was an accident. I
suppose we found a Mona Lisa, after all.” He looked at me. “What do
you suppose the odds are of finding two?”

“Let’s get something out in the open.” My
gut lit up. “Are you looking for a fight? Because it feels like you
are, and I just met you.”

The rehearsed smile creased his porcelain
cheeks. “It’s a great moment in history, dear Socket.” He raised
his hands in celebration. “I’m the perfect breeding. Pivot’s the
lucky mutt. And you… well, we’re not sure what you are, just yet.
Let’s just say you show promise.”

“Not that this matters, but I don’t give two
shits what you think. I don’t care if I ever read another thought
or stop another moment in time. You can drop me off back home, if
you like. I was happy with my old life.”

Then it hit me.
Happy with my old
life
? Every day of my life felt like pushing a boulder up a
hill waiting for something to happen. It was always that way, like
I was missing what I was supposed to be doing. Now that I was with
the Paladins, I didn’t feel like a freak.

Broak pulled Pivot up and put his arms
around us both. “Pivot’s special. And I don’t mean the he-can’t-see
kind of special, either. The Paladin Nation needs him. They need
me. And, if what we’ve seen so far from your preliminary tests, you
just might be special, too. Whether you like it or not, we have
been chosen by a higher power to serve. All we can do is celebrate,
dear Socket.” He leaned close, his breath odorless. “Long live the
Paladin Nation.”

He shook us once, twice and let go.

“Now if you will please excuse me,” he said,
“I have to get out of this place. When you get some free time, join
me on the tagghet field, won’t you? I’ll teach you the sport in no
time. It will be worldwide within a couple years; you should know
the rules, at the very least. And I must warn you, I’m quite good
and I don’t go easy on beginners.” He smirked, the first sign of
real emotion. “I’ll give you quite a thrashing, but you will thank
me for it later.”

“When am I done testing?”

“They evaluated me in three days.” He looked
at Pivot. “They gave up on Pivot. You? Like I told you, you are
somewhere in between.” He winked. “Come see me when you can.”

He walked down the slab. The grimmets
hovered over me, watching. A red one landed on my shoulder. We
looked at each other, both surprised at the sudden intimacy.

“By the way, you will have to clean yourself
up,” Broak called. “The white hair is odd but I like it, I really
do. But you’re going to have to clean it up. Better yet, cut it.”
He stopped at the edge of the trees. “And for God’s sake, don’t let
those things sit on you, dear Socket. They live in the trees.”

Broak walked into the forest.

Pivot was gone. So was Sighter. Hot, sticky
fingers clung to my skin. The red grimmet walked to my other
shoulder, wrapped his long tail around my neck. His gold eyes
glittered. Blinked. The rest of the grimmets sat on the branches.
Watching. Blinking. They started climbing into the holes, one after
another, disappearing into the tree.

The red grimmet leaped off, flew after them.
He marched down the branch, one of the last to go inside. One
thought rang inside my head. It was a single word coming from the
little red one.

[Rudder.]

The red grimmet’s name was Rudder.

D I S C O V E R Y

Three days, my ass.

I had the feeling dear Broak was lying about
his testing because mine was endless. Weeks went by and every
morning I woke up hoping it would be over, only to be trotted to
another tester and another boring day. I eventually turned my room
into an exact replica of my bedroom back in South Carolina. My
messy desk was in the corner and, next to that, an open door that
led to the bathroom. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve gone
to the kitchen to grab something to drink, but there wasn’t a
kitchen through that door. Just another short hallway with a leaper
at the end.

“Himalayas.”

The white space swirled inside a huge frame
until wispy clouds hung on the icy capped mountain in the distance.
It reminded me of the Rime. That’s where it all started. What if I
didn’t go there that day? Would the shadow have found me? Would I
be laying around the house watching TV on a three-day
suspension?

“Good morning.” Mom walked in and looked
around, ignoring my obvious plea to go home.
This is your home,
Socket.
She put on a smile, a courageous attempt to mask the
exhaustion, but her facial muscles just couldn’t keep up. Did she
even sleep anymore?

“I’ve got good news,” she said. “I received
clearance for you to meet Streeter and Chute on the Internet. You
can virtualmode to a secure location and they’ll meet you.”

“You did?” I jolted out of bed.

“I did.” She smiled back. “I know it’s not
the same as seeing them in the skin, but it’s the best I could do.
I’m not sure when it can be arranged, but soon.”

There was hope after all.

“I want you dressed,” she said. “Some
testers arrived late last night to see you this morning and they
need to leave by lunch.”

Breakfast was anything I could think of.
Anything
. Eggs, slightly runny, a bowl of grits with two
pats of butter and two and a half strips of bacon. I added a side
of poached salmon just to screw with them. Two minutes later, a
servy carried a piping hot tray that stunk up the room. I sent it
back.
Okay, you win.

I went to the test, this one with a man and
a woman. I inserted my hands into special gloves and put on dark
glasses. They gave me different scenarios and asked me to respond.
“You find yourself in a room with three strangers. One of them is a
murderer. The lights go out. Respond.”

What am I supposed to say to that? If I
leave the room, I’m a coward. If I kill them all, I’m the
murderer.

“Am I the killer?” Tiny lights flashed, I
saw some data roll through the dark glasses and heard some
mmmmm-mmm.
That meant my answer was very interesting. Not
necessarily right, but interesting.

I was starved for lunch. I sat in an
ordinary white room at a long table, watching the news reports on a
three-dimensional TV. I ordered peanut butter and jelly with a
thick layer of spicy potato chips and sliced pickles. Spindle sat
at the other end with his hands splayed out on the table. I
continued eating. He continued watching.

“Tell me about Pivot,” I said.

“I can only give the general background. You
are not cleared to access his entire database.”

Mmmmmmm… interesting.

“Master Pivot was found in a children’s
home. His parents were never seen.”

“Has he always been blind?”

“Yes. According to the director of the home,
he just showed up one day. The other kids named him Pivot because
of the way he turned around without lifting one of his feet. Much
of his time, according to the director, he spent sitting in a
chair, as if observing. The other kids did not care to play with
him. Some of the older kids assaulted him. After that, the director
called the authorities.”

“He called the Paladins?”

“No. The Paladin Nation monitors the world
for suspicious activities. Once they secretly learned of Pivot,
they took him without notice.”

“Was he hurt?”

“There were screams from other children.
When the director arrived in the bunk room, five teenagers were
unconscious at Master Pivot’s feet. The other children told the
director that the boys were teasing him. They wanted him to take
off his clothes. When they attacked, they began to spasm like they
had touched an electrical wire. They convulsed for a minute before
they went unconscious.”

I was holding a half-eaten pickle. “He
killed them?”

“No,” Spindle said. “They recovered
fully.”

If they got a dose of what Pike had given me
on day one, then hell yeah they were screaming. “What happened
after that?”

“Master Pivot went through much of the same
tests you are now experiencing.”

“And he lives in the Preserve?”

“He does. At one time, he had living
quarters much like yours, but he experienced extreme agitation.
Since coming to the Preserve, he has stabilized.”

“You know, Broak told me they built the
Preserve just for Pivot.” I wagged the pickle at him. “That’s crazy
talk, right?”

“Master Pivot is a very powerful cadet and,
I might add, one of the most unique. He expresses minder potential
and yet is not a pure minder. He is quite possibly the most
powerful cadet alive, but it is not known how well he controls his
abilities. The Paladin Nation is very patient with his development.
They want him to be comfortable.”

“What’s so important about him?”

His faceplate became a mess of gray specks.
“That information is classified.”

I licked the peanut butter off my thumb and
took another bite, remembering that, even though Pivot had dead
fisheyes, there was a magnificent depth to them. It only took one
look to know he was something special. And not the he-can’t-see
kind.

“What about Broak?” I asked. “What’s he all
about?”

Spindle’s head dimmed, a deep scarlet line
jagged on the lower half. “Master Broak’s story is much different.
He is the result of careful breeding, artificially conceived. He
has been very promising, expressing his skills at an age earlier
than anticipated. He is also very important.”

“Believe me, he thinks he’s important, too,”
I said. “He doesn’t have parents?”

“He was raised by trainers.”

Trainers, huh? There’s a new concept. What
could be worse than training the day you come out of the womb… or
slide out of a test tube or hatch from an egg? He was built.

“So what he said is true?” I said. “He’s the
Paladin’s darling.”

“If test results are any indication, he will
be a very potent Paladin. The Paladin Nation is currently cloning
his gene sequence for future generations. Earth will be very secure
under his leadership.”

Spindle’s faceplate turned pale, for just a
second.
Under his leadership.
That was the company line. I
don’t think Spindle was on board with that.

“So what exactly are the Paladins protecting
us from? Monsters? Aliens? Killer tomatoes?”

“I am afraid that information is
classified.”

“I’ll bet its terrorists. Right?”

“I cannot confirm nor deny that
statement.”

“What’s the big secret? Terrorists are
blowing stuff up every day. Why do we need a secret police agency?
I mean, they aren’t keeping secrets. They just attacked some
building the other day and told the whole world about it.”

Spindle remained still for several seconds,
perhaps contemplating what was classified. His faceplate brightened
when he had the answer. “It is best that humanity does not know
what danger it is in. They would be very unhappy. There would be
mass chaos. Financial stability would collapse worldwide. No,
Master Socket, it is better that we serve humanity without their
knowledge. Keeping them safe is most important.”

We keep the world safe, Socket, that’s
all you need to know
. Mom always said that.
Secrecy leads to
corruption
. That’s what my Global Politics teacher always said.
Of course, Paladins weren’t ordinary people. That’s what Spindle
would say.

A servy fetched my empty cup. I was
full.