Sanctuary Falling (4 page)

“She was a primary. She noted several oddities in this earth’s histories. The chief decided it would be a good idea to station someone here to keep an eye on things,” Yllera provided.

“Ever heard of looking but not touching?” He grunted taking a seat on the sink counter.

“Ever heard of identifying yourself in the field?”
 
She parried sitting on the floor across from him.

“I don’t know, have you?”

Yllera blushed, “So why is he your
>
ex-partner’?”

“Because you earn more credits freelance than you do when you’re under contract with the council,” Max thrust another question forward, “My turn! Why is a tertiary factor earning a degree in teaching?”

“Because I’m only a tertiary factor, and after today’s fiasco I may need another career to fall back on,” She parried.

Thrust, “So how well does factoring pay?”

“It doesn’t,” parry, pause, “but I do get the gratification of doing a humiliatingly bad job of it so far today.”

“I’ve had days like that, today was almost one of them. You see this rather beautiful girl walked right into the middle of this very bad situation that I was supposed to fix. . .” He caught her eyes briefly, “Though I think she won’t let it happen again. Maybe I could give her my number, so she could call me if anymore dark and dirty situations come to her attention. What do you think?”

Yllera blushed again and felt warm, “She might appreciate that.”

“Well, I should leave you to your business,” Max said, handing her a business card, and glancing around the bathroom.
 

She glanced at it, and made note of the local number. “Maybe we’ll run into one another again.”

“Hopefully not on the job,” Max answered unlocking the door and slipping back out.
 
Three women pushed in after him and eyed Yllera with smirks and raised eyebrows.
 
Yllera ignored them and stuffed Max’s card in her pocket.

Then she ducked into a stall and started typing her report into her pop-pad. This morning had been less than promising, but maybe news about Max would help her keep her job.

- - - - - - - - - -

Chapter 2

Brace for Impact!

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Annette used the last gulp of milk in the glass to swallow one of the pills Tina had given her. Then she shoved the glass and plate from her lunch back into the food processor. Closing the clear fronted, microwave-looking
 
door of the processor activated it and the dishes disappeared back to wherever they came from. Annette briefly thought about that, maybe they disappeared to some big empty room somewhere, where people then washed them and put them away for the next person who wanted something. That thought cheered her, in a dejected sort of way, because if some big room full of dirty dishes existed somewhere, then Sanctuary needed dishwashers and maybe she could someday get a job doing that.

A deep depression had settled on Annette since her discharge from the clinic. While she had been a patient there, Tina had visited her and treated her like someone of special import, giving her small words of encouragement at every opportunity. Since returning home that small light in Annette’s life had dimmed and a cold grim certainty had settled in. Annette hadn’t heard from Niri since the incident, not so much as a get well e-mail, and none of her fellow classmates from Niri’s classes had been to visit. Being that Niri was the only one in Annette’s corner, and that she had no hope of appealing to Sinclair, it seemed certain that Annette’s dream had died, knocked senseless by the support pole and dealt a fatal blow by the floor of the practice cavern. Annette would never become a factor now.

So, for the last week, Annette hadn’t left the house. There didn’t seem to be a point, and her foster mother seemed content to let her recuperate in the safety of the house forever. Annette’s homework had been delivered as a school linked pop-pad. She hadn’t bothered doing it. She blamed her poor throbbing, though nearly healed, head every time her foster mother even tried to call her to task. Her foster mother had relented every time. Instead, Annette had filled her days by flicking through the channels of the media screen pausing on one only long enough to torture herself with news of the exploits of the factors.

Annette left the kitchen and flung herself onto the living room couch. She was just getting into the proper position for an afternoon of mindless channel surfing when the door bell rang. Annette contemplated ignoring it. Her foster mother would wake up and get it if Annette didn’t, or whomever it was would leave a message.

Ambivalently, Annette decided to get it. She tilted her head back and asked, “Who is it?”

“Tina, I’ve come to check on your head,” came the answer after a brief pause.

Annette cringed, Tina would figure out she was better and Annette would have to hurry up and do her stupid homework. “Fine,” Annette mumbled, “Let her in.” The door hissed open admitting Tina.

Tina walked into the living room. Annette stared at the media screen and tried not to feel self conscious about her pajamas. “So, Annette, how are you doing?” Tina asked, not even making a move towards pulling out a scanner to check Annette’s head.

“Fine.” Annette said while trying not to think about anything.

“That didn’t sound fine,” Tina said sitting next to Annette on the couch. “Is your head still hurting?”

“I guess, once and a while,” Annette answered.

“Let me guess, only when you try to do your homework,” Tina said, finally pulling out a scanner. She aimed it at Annette. Annette briefly wondered why it never felt like anything to be scanned. “Well, this shows that you’re pretty much healed, but if you don’t feel any better then, I guess I’ll tell Niri that things will just have to wait a little longer. After all, you can’t always tell everything from a scan.”

Annette tweaked the remote, flicking off the media screen, and sat up straighter. “What about Niri?”

“Nothing much, she’s just been waiting to talk to you. Nevertheless, since you were on medical restriction, she didn’t want to bother you,” Tina said.

“Medical restriction?” Annette thought, “Kids don’t go on medical restriction. Only grownups, like factors.”
 
Briefly a hope tap-danced through the back of Annette’s mind, until it bounced off the mental image of the support pole.

“Anyway, I guess I’ll leave you to finish, recuperating,” Tina said rising to leave.

“What does she want?” Annette asked quickly. As she asked, Annette came to the depressing conclusion that Niri wanted to break the bad news to her in person.

“How should I know?” Tina answered.
 
Annette felt an itch at the back of her mind telling her that Tina did know, but didn’t want to be the one to tell her. “It can probably wait until you’re feeling up to going back to your old routine.”

Annette’s heart sank, Tina was just trying to bait her into admitting she felt fine. Then would come the homework and the sheer depression of going back to school without the hope of ever being what she wanted to be. “Oh.”

“Well, I’m leaving now, you call and let me know when you’re up to talking to Niri. For now, I’ll let your mom know you could go back to class tomorrow,” Tina went to the door.

“Wait,” Annette said, shaken from her certainty by Tina’s words, “I guess I am feeling up to talking to her now.” Tina smirked and nodded and went to the door, she palmed it open and nodded to someone on her way out. The next thing Annette knew, Niri had taken Tina’s seat on the couch.

“So, you’re feeling better,” Niri asked. Annette nodded still somewhat confused. “Good, because I don’t know how much longer Sinclair was going to wait, he really isn’t a patient man.”

Annette’s mind seized. She couldn’t even visualize the head of factor training waiting on her for anything, not after what she’d heard him say. Sudden doubt about whether or not she had imagined overhearing that conversation didn’t help to lubricate Annette’s thoughts any. The only response Annette had, was, “Huh?”

Niri looked at Annette for a minute and smiled, “I guess you’d like to know what this is about. Well, here it goes. I know you overheard Sinclair and I arguing. After your accident, it got even more heated. In the end we’ve come to an agreement. He’s going to allow you to do some testing to see if you are factor material, but. . .”

Annette’s joy leaped out of her mouth in an excited scream which interrupted Niri, woke her foster mother and brought her running into the living room. By the time her foster mother arrived Annette was jumping up and down on the couch and beginning to regret it because of a slight residual dizziness.

“What is going on in here?!” Annette’s foster mother shouted. Her tone of voice brought silence, and an end to Annette’s bouncing. Annette stood frozen on the couch cushion with a grin wrapped around her head.

“I’m going to get to test to be a factor!” Annette ran off at the mouth.

“That’s nice honey, how’s your head feeling?” Her foster mother asked nodding slightly at Niri.

“Fine! Wonderful! I’ve never been better!” Annette bubbled, punctuating each statement with a bounce, but stopping as her vision wobbled just a bit.

“I think you better sit so we can discuss this properly. I’m not sure if that is what’s best for you dear,” Her foster mother said taking a seat in a recliner across from the couch. Annette complied, landing on her butt and throwing her feet back towards the floor.

“Well, Mrs. Jefferson,
 
now that I can finish, maybe I should start over for your mother,” Niri said, she briefly eyed Annette before looking to her foster mother, “Like I was telling Annette, Sinclair has agreed to some tests to decide whether Annette would make a good factor or not. The first test is no problem. She could do it now if she’s ready, and of course you agree to allow it. The problem is that after the first test she will need to do some intensive training, because part of the second test will be about how much improvement she’s made. Now, when I say
>
intensive’, I mean
>
intensive’. She will have to eat, sleep and dream factor training at least sixteen hours a day. It would be full time with physical, mental and equipment training, plus time set aside for school work. She would really need to stay in the dorms.”

“She does already have the eat, sleep and dream part down,” Annette’s foster mother answered, rubbing the back of her neck, “but I don’t know. She is just getting over a pretty bad concussion and all. Plus, I worry that maybe factoring isn’t the best thing for her.”
 
Annette’s heart sank, her foster mother was going to say no.

With a wink at Annette, Niri offered, “Why not see how she does on the tests before deciding about that? Heck, if it isn’t for her, just having tried might be enough to get it out of her system.”

“Do you really think she has a chance at making it?”

A strange look passed across Niri’s face, “Trust me, I wouldn’t even have brought it up if she didn’t!”

“Out of her system?” Annette’s foster mother mumbled to herself before taking a long look at Annette, “I suppose it is the only way I’m going to get her to catch up on her homework at this point.”

“So that’s a yes?” Niri asked. Annette’s foster mother nodded quickly. Annette held herself still, almost believing that the conversation was just some hallucination cooked up by her concussion. “Well, Annette, if you’re ready and willing to work your butt off, I guess you should go gather up some of
 
your personal things. You won’t need clothes or school stuff, that’ll be taken care of. Just grab the stuff that’ll help you feel less homesick.”

Annette stood tentatively, then rushed to hug her foster mother, something she did only very rarely. Then she sprinted to her room. She spun around scanning the room quickly for what she would take. She looked at all of her posters of factors and faraway places, her books on factors, the dolls she had carefully sewn little prime jackets and made little factor gear for, and her files of clippings all about the daring deeds of factors. She didn’t need any of that, if she was going to make herself a factor! Still, part of her insisted she couldn’t leave the room empty handed.