The Anathema (42 page)

“I think it’s, uh, like, seventy inches or something…”

“Right, so your arm is about half the distance to the glass,” Katya said, shrugging. “Near enough. Go ahead and try your protocol out up close, to get a sense of how it works. Activate your protocol a couple inches in front of your hand. Only a little, mind you. Don’t go freezing your arm off.”

Alex grumbled, but settled into the focusing routine Michael had taught him, staring hard at the point in space where he was focusing all of his efforts.

“Is this some sort of focusing exercise?” Katya asked doubtfully. “Because you look like you are having a really hard time going to the bathroom.”

Alex ignored her. Not that it mattered. It still took him the better part of a minute to activate his protocol at the end of his hand. Then he felt pain, and he jerked his hand back reflexively, like a child from a stovetop, the tiny breach into the Ether collapsing instantly.

Katya finished the last of her spring roll while cursed and jumped, clutching his frost-burnt hand, where round, white patches were forming on the pads of skin below his fingers, that would eventually bloom into hard, yellow blisters.

“Not bad,” Katya allowed, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin. “Kinda slow.”

“Not bad? I burned the shit out of my hand! Didn’t you see that?”

“Yeah, the breach you opened was too big, so it was too cold, too much vacuum, and it took you too long,” she said, shrugging. “We’ll have to fix all of that. But the depth was pretty close. That’s one point for you. Score three points, and I’ll give you a prize.”

“Um... okay. But it better not be something painful...”

“You have a strange concept of the word ‘prize’. Let’s move on to the second target,” Katya suggested. “Use your arm as a guide again, but this time, instead of trying to open the breach right in front of your hand, I want you to stand on the line I drew, and open a breach as close to twice the length of your arm as you can. And a smaller breach this time. Much smaller. I don’t want you to freeze it solid.”

Alex looked at the target propped on a tree stump at roughly at shoulder level, and then the crude line in the moss on the rock that Katya had made by dragging the toe of her sandal through it.

“It’s a glass of water.”

“Right.”

“You want me to make ice?”

Katya nodded, digging in her army surplus rucksack for a moment, before coming up with tonic water and a number of miniature bottles of Bombay Sapphire.

“I need ice,” she explained, smiling and leaning her chin on her hand, watching him.

“I should’ve known,” Alex muttered, turning back to the target and extending his hand again, trying to draw an invisible line between the glass and himself, about twice as far as he could reach. He tensed his body and closed his eyes.

“Not like that.”

Alex was startled by Katya padding up silently behind him, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other forcing his elbow to unlock. “Loosen up. Tensing your muscles won’t help you operate a protocol. Bend your knees. Relax your back. You aren’t trying to tear reality to pieces; you don’t have to murder that glass of water. This may be a first for you, Alex, but I think you might be trying a little bit
too
hard.”

He tried to relax, knowing he could have done a better job if she hadn’t had been standing right there. He could feel her chest brush against his back, and it was a terrible distraction. Still, he had to try, so he closed his eyes briefly, visualized the distance, raised his arm, and tried to punch the smallest hole into the Ether he could imagine, so small that he imagined a single molecule struggling to fit through the breach. The effect was subtle to the point that at first he didn’t think it had worked it all. Then the glass cracked in two places, but didn’t shatter. The water in the glass had a shard of ice in the center an inch think, running from the top to the bottom.

Katya yelled encouragement and slapped his back while he hurriedly shut the breach. She practically skipped over to gingerly collect the ice from the fractured glass, breaking pieces into the two plastic red cups that she had brought with her. She hummed to herself happily as she filled them with a restrained amount of tonic, and a more generous helping of gin.

“Cheers,” she said, handing him one and offering hers up for a toast. He tapped the plastic rim of her cup with his own. “Good job. I think you are starting to get it. And that’s another point for you.”

“Thanks to you, Katya,” Alex said, sampling his drink, making a sour face, and then adding more tonic water. “Really. I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you at first. I completely misjudged you. You’ve done nothing but look out for me, and teach me, and I’m grateful for it.”

Katya smiled, blushed, and then looked unhappy in an impressively quick array of emotional responses. She sat down on the bench behind her and then patted for him to sit down next to her.

“Not bad,” Katya said quietly. “That’s three points. You win the prize. First, though, Alex, I’m not sure you totally understand something. Do you know why Anastasia assigned me to look after you?”

Alex looked away for a moment, considering both what he thought to be true, and what saying it aloud might do to their suddenly improving relationship. In the end he decided he wasn’t smart enough for anything except the truth.

“Because you are an assassin,” Alex replied, suddenly shy for no specific reason. “Because I need someone watching over me who is willing to kill.”

Katya laughed mirthlessly and drained her cup, pausing to refill it.

“Not hardly, boy,” she scoffed. “Anastasia has lots of people who are willing to kill, and plenty of trained assassins. She sent me for two reasons. The first is that I am completely loyal to Anastasia, and Anastasia alone. I can’t be bribed, persuaded, or threatened, my trust can’t be shaken. I do whatever she says, no questions asked, no compunctions, no moral scruples, no trouble sleeping at night. I owe her everything. Literally.”

“Okay,” Alex said, rattling the ice in his cup, taking a certain satisfaction at having made it. “What’s the second reason?”

“Because I don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone else,” Katya said sweetly, looking at him with a mixture of pity and affection. “I’m not like the other people at the Academy, Alex. I don’t want power or money. I don’t have any hidden motivations or secret agendas. My outlook on life is simple. If Anastasia told me to screw you, Alex, I would have you flat on your back before you had time to reach for your rape whistle. And if she told me to kill you, well, I don’t need any other reason to fill that vacant head of yours with pointy metal bits. And it wouldn’t even mess up my afternoon.”

“Huh,” Alex said, trying to thaw his brain out of its induced freeze. “You feel like trying that out?”

“What? No,” Katya said, shaking her head. “I’m not Alice Gallow. If I go through the rest of my life without having to kill somebody, then that’s fine with me. I don’t like killing people, I just don’t mind it particularly. Besides, I’m supposed to be teaching you.”

“No, I meant the other part,” Alex said, grinning. “I think maybe I forgot my rape whistle back with my other pants.”

Katya laughed, long and hard, and Alex felt good about it. He was pretty sure it was the first time he’d really ever gotten her approval.

“Cute, but I’m afraid you aren’t at all my type,” Katya said, digging in her pocket, and then tossing him something. Alex caught it in midair and examined it. It looked like a hacky-sack knitted from red and blue colored yarn with something heavy and dense at the core. “Present from Eerie for the big winner.”

“Really?” Alex asked, examining the object closely. He was starting to think it was maybe actually a small pillow, or something similar. “Wait a minute, Katya. You know Eerie?”

“Did you think the sewing needles were an affectation?” Katya asked, looking surprised. “Never underestimate the power of the Academy’s Sewing Circle. We are a force to be reckoned with, and Eerie is a charter member. She taught me to cross-stitch, so I owed her a favor. She asked me to give you that before we left.”

“Great. Um, what is it?”

“I don’t know,” Katya said. “But it comes with two instructions. She said to put it underneath your pillow, when you sleep if you miss her. Isn’t that too cute? And she said that if you are ever in deep trouble, and you need her help, you’re supposed to squeeze it really hard.”

“Okay…” Alex said thoughtfully. He held it up close to his face, and it smelled vaguely familiar, some kind of heady incense. He weighed it thoughtfully in his palm, wondering what was inside it, wondering what Eerie had thought when she had made it, if it had been before their fight, if there was in fact something for him to come back to at The Academy. By the time he finished considering, Katya had replaced the water in the damaged glass out on the step and was shaking her red cup at him expectantly.

“Okay, big guy, whenever you’re ready,” she said, grinning, “I need a refill.”

Alex sighed, stretched out his arm, and started to range in on the target.

* * *

Most of the time, when a day went completely wrong, Chris only realized the problem in retrospect. Looking back on the day, often from bed, he would think to himself, ‘That was a very bad day,’ and catalogue the various mistakes that had made it so. But on this particular day, he knew the precise moment the day went bad without a shred of doubt in his mind. It would require very little preamble in his daily report, assuming he managed to survive to submit it. It would read simply:

‘Alice Gallow walked around the corner while we were still in the outskirts of Portland, hours before the plan was supposed to start.’

And that would be an exact record of the events as he watched his chances of having the kind of day that ended comfortably in the arms of his favorite Slovakian prostitute fall into the ground, through the crust of the earth, and stop somewhere uncomfortably close to hell.

“You fucking piece of shit,” Alice snarled, starting toward him, clutching her shotgun. “Christopher Feld. You undead asshole. How is it that you are walking around and nobody told me?”

Chris wasn’t stupid enough to try to argue. He ran, which, upon further reflection, was almost as stupid. He went tumbling through his own shadow, and then fell out of one in front of Alice, but about five feet off the ground. He hit the ground hard, right on his tailbone, and he had barely started to writhe before Alice got her hands on him.

“Explain,” Alice hissed through gritted teeth. “Explain good or I gut you right now.”

“Do you even remember, Alice?” Chris asked, laughing like someone with nothing to lose. Which, at this juncture, was probably an accurate description of his present circumstances. “You cried over my body, you know. It was a very touching scene, even if you didn’t know why you were doing it.”

Alice lifted him by the lapels of his very expensive jacket, pulling him close to her there-and-then-gone-again smile.

“I remember, you son of a bitch,” Alice said, shaking him back and forth. “You were supposed to kill me, but you didn’t do it. You died, fighting right next to me. You don’t have to remind me about any of that shit. Why don’t you skip to the part where you’re still alive, or whatever you vampires call it, before I decide to skip to the part where I show you what your insides look like?”

“It’s so cute,” Chris said, beaming, “the way you think that you’re angry with me. If you remembered what I had done to you over the years, I guarantee you would tear me limb from limb without hesitation. You hate me and you don’t even remember. Hell, you won’t even remember this, so what’s the harm in telling you? I’ve made you fall in love with me a dozen times, and you don’t even know how much that would disgust you.”

“You have such pretty eyes,” Alice said admiringly. “It would be a shame to have to dig them out of your skull.”

“I like it when you say things like that,” Chris said, leering. “I’ll think about that the next time we fuck.”