The Ninth (29 page)

“I see.  Tell me, have you two done anything special?”  Davis questioned.

Immediately a bright flare of orange swept over Brent.  The glow around Cassandra exploded in a blazing carroty color.  Brent braced against the light, but it didn’t scorch him.  In fact, it wasn’t like the combat exam at all.  There was no heat in it, just a bright orange color that seemed to wrap around him.  The way it moved was akin to dancing smoke made of pure light.

“That is none of your business!”  Cassandra’s voice was muffled but clearly angry.  “If we have or haven’t done anything
special
is none of your concern.  But if you absolutely must know, nothing
special
has happened, nothing at all!”

Davis noticed Brent’s sudden movements, and again the glow receded.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Davis apologized.  “I’ve lived too long with military protocol being the rule rather than proper manners.”

The suit folded its arms and scoffed, a most bizarre sight.

“Okay, let’s skip past how this happened and move on to testing it.  Cassandra, was it?”  Davis was obviously being overly diplomatic.  “Would you mind taking the starting position again?”

Cassandra’s faceplate stared at Davis for a while, but she got up and moved to the starting position the troopers had earlier occupied.  Brent dashed to his proper place, not wanting to upset her further.

“Okay, Brent, can you describe what emotions you sense?”  Davis pulled out his pad.

“I’m not sure.  I wouldn’t really call them emotions, just a very bright orange glow around her.”  He put the sight into words as best he could.  “There are whips of yellow, too, but much more faint.  And just a hint of red at the center of the aurora.”

Davis stiffened slightly as he raised an eyebrow and made several markings on his pad.  Cassandra immediately started down the green path.  As she got farther and farther, the glow grew weaker, but it never fully went out.  As she reached the end of the path, he could still make out the faint glow.

“You didn’t raise your hand!”  Cassandra’s muffled voice shouted at him.

“Well, I can still see it,” he shouted back.  “It’s not as bright as it was, but it’s clearly still there.”

Cassandra paused a moment before rushing back to the starting place.  Brent noticed the red in the glow was more pronounced, and the orange was fading.  The yellow still lashed around intermittently.  As she walked along the red line, the glow would vary in intensity but it never vanished.  When she reached the end of the path, her helmet fixed on him expectantly.

“Still see it.  Sorry.”  He shrugged.

Again she returned to the starting position and quickly walked down the orange path.  As soon as she went behind the obstruction, something odd happened.  The glow collapsed.  Brent was about to raise his hand when he realized the glow hadn’t disappeared but changed shape.  Originally the light had been a blob around her person, a nebulous thing that grew and collapsed organically.  Now it was a tight outline of her body.  Even though he couldn’t see her movements with his eyes, the outline allowed him to watch as her arms went up and down.

He could make out her each and every step.  Beyond that, the outline seemed more trim and feminine.  It took him a second to realize the outline was of Cassandra herself, not the armor.  The outline was only the outer most edge of her frame, so he couldn’t make out any details beyond the obviously female profile.  She was anything but slender, however, watching her profile caused a gentle blush to fill his cheeks.  Brent found himself thinking what a shame it was she choose to hide herself in the armor – she was quite lovely.  When Cassandra reached the end of the path, she ran back to the starting point, not waiting on him.  He realized he had let himself get distracted and quickly focused himself on the task at hand.  When he could see her again, the aura stayed in its new shape.

“Well?”  Cassandra demanded as she got closer.

“You’ll be happy to know you are not glowing anymore.  It’s more of an outline now,” Brent stated.  “There is a narrow band of light around you now.  I can even see your fingers when you flex them.”  He smiled as she glanced down at the armored glove.

“An outline?”  Davis seemed disturbed.

“This can still be normal though, right?”  Cassandra asked hopefully.

“Certainly.”  Davis comforted Cassandra.  “Every Weaver senses the emotions of others differently.  No two sense them in the same way.  Sounds are the most common, so it is where most training starts.  Each emotion is said to be represented by a tone, although which tone varies among Weavers.  Sometimes a Weaver senses through smell, taste, and even vision.  Seeing colored auras as Brent described is rare but not unheard of.”

“How do you sense them?”  Cassandra asked.

“You can’t know this, Miss, but that question is the most personal question you could ever ask a Weaver.”  Davis seemed to shift uncomfortably, an odd sight for such a strong personality.  “I don’t think there is any equivalent question you could ask a normal person that would be as private.”

“I didn’t know; forgive me for asking.”  Cassandra seemed to plead with the Weaver.

“It’s all right.  Although, I want you to remember how important that is to us.  It’s very important you never forget.”  Davis had turned serious.

“Why is it so important?”  Cassandra sounded worried.

“Because the two of us know something no one should ever know.  We are the keepers of Brent’s most precious secret.”  Davis studied Brent carefully.

The outline around Cassandra grew a small amount and turned a deep dark red.  Brent wondered if he would ever get used to seeing it or decipher its meanings.

“Miss, I mean Cassandra.  Would you mind if I asked one more favor of you?” Davis asked apprehensively.  “It’s a big one so feel free to say no.”

“What is the favor?”  Cassandra’s helmet locked on Davis.

“Would you let Brent attempt to alter your emotions?  I’d monitor his progress closely and step in if necessary of course.”  Davis sounded desperate.  “Normally I’d do it myself, but for some reason he can’t sense my emotions at all.”

The outline flashed yellow.  Cassandra’s suit remained still, but Brent could tell she was deep in thought.  It was hard to tell with the outline, but he could almost tell her head was tilted in thought.  After a few tense moments the outline shrank but remained a bright yellow.

“All right.  I’ll do it,” Cassandra accepted.

Davis almost jumped for joy and watched Brent intently.  It was an odd sensation.  He didn’t feel like he was being manipulated, but there was an overwhelming sense of being spied on.  Brent turned his chair to face Cassandra.  The yellow outline was growing again.  It didn’t reach the huge sizes it had before, but it was definitely getting bigger.  He had no idea how to alter what he saw.  He tried blinking, tapping his boot, and even unsuccessfully to wiggle his ear.  None of it worked.  Frustrated, he reached out and tried to grab the light with his hand.  As his hand pointlessly waved before his eyes, a memory sparked in his mind.  Brent had had to
think
to get the Shards to respond.

Focusing on the glow, he thought of it shrinking.  As he imagined it, it complied.  The glow stopped growing and eventually started to shrink gradually.  It slowly matched the image he had conjured in his mind.  Out of the corner of his eye he could make out Davis’ jaw dropping.  Brent wondered what else he could do.  Cassandra had seemed disturbed whenever the blue and yellow colors dominated.  The orange had flared when Davis had asked the embarrassing question.  The blood red pulsed when she realized she knew something about him she shouldn’t.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to reproduce that emotion.  All that left was the faint red hue he had seen earlier.  However, there wasn’t even a hint of it.  No traces of any shade of red in the entire outline.  Davis’ lecture popped to mind; Weavers could only influence what is already there.  He didn’t like what was already there.  Might as well try.

Brent focused on the glow, imagining the yellow fading completely and it being replaced by the red.  Slowly but surely, the yellow started to fade.  With increasing speed the yellow faded.  However, no red showed up.  Suddenly the outline shattered and a blazing aurora surged, reaching the large size it had before.  The aura rushed over Brent, but again it did not burn him.  A red hue steadily started to fill the glow.  Almost instantly there was mild resistance.  The red did not fill as quickly as he had imagined.  Something was wrong, everything had responded so smoothly before.  This red almost seemed to be fighting him.  Glancing around, he noticed Davis was staring at Cassandra with an incredible intensity.  Suddenly worried he might be doing more harm than good, Brent imagined the light resetting to an outline.  Complying, the light instantly receded back to the girl and wrapped around her in a small outline.  The yellow returned, but not as strongly as before.

“Is it over?”  Cassandra asked.

“Yes, it is.”  Davis sounded weak.

“You all right?”  Brent asked quickly.

“I’m fine.”  Davis smiled.  “You did an excellent job, Brent.  You two can enjoy the rest of your day off.  Dismissed.”

Hesitantly, Brent got up from his seat and headed to the doorway.  Brent hadn’t missed that was an order.  He almost fell over when Cassandra
skipped
past him.  The bulbous suit looked like a young schoolgirl blissfully skipping home on the last day of school.  As she skipped out the doorway, Brent made a promise to himself.  He wouldn’t make the aura grow again.  The doorway closed behind them and the warehouse was eerily silent.  Davis waited until he was sure the boy was far enough and collapsed.

“Jack!  You all right?”  Nathan shouted.

“I’m fine,” he said weakly.  “Just
very
tired.  How are the other Weavers?”

“Not too good.  Doctor Benedict is taking care of them.  What happened?”

Jack tried to stand but didn’t have the strength to keep his balance.  The windows were open now.  He could see the other Weavers passed out overhead, medics hunched over them.

“Lucky thing you gave the recruits the day off.”  Jack gave up on standing.  “If we are lucky, the other Weavers will be back on their feet in time to return to their teaching duties.”

“For once, I’m glad I listened to you.  If this is the effect it had on all of you, I don’t even want to think how bad it would have been for a single person.”  Nathan took a seat on the ground nearby.  “Having the other academy Weavers waiting to assist you might have just saved your life.  What went wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong.  It went too well is the problem.  I never expected that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He described to us how he sensed emotions.”

“Is that why you broke transmission for a couple of minutes?”

“He never should have done that.  If he was a real Weaver he
never
would have.”

“What do you mean?  Isn’t he a Weaver?”

“He might have the abilities of a Weaver, but he doesn’t have any of our sensibilities.  He described it in
detail
, as if it wasn’t anything special.”

“I had no idea that was so important to Weavers.”

“You also had the common sense never to ask.”  Jack sighed and stared at the ceiling.  “It takes a lifetime to figure out the nuances of what we sense, Nathan.  From the first time we realize we aren’t normal, a Weaver’s life becomes a slave to figuring out our abilities.  There is nothing more sacred or precious to us, and Brent just casually described it all in detail – as if he was recounting something as banal as last night’s news feed.”

Nathan stared at his old friend, uncertain what to do.  It was obvious Jack was shaken, but not being a Weaver himself he had no idea if it was even possible for him to help.

“Now don’t take this the wrong way,” Nathan said a last, “but how he perceived emotions, was it . . . odd?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t claim to know the first thing about Weavers or their abilities.  And I know better than to pry, but I do know there are conventions, standards and such.  The boy is unconventional, to say the least.  Is the way he senses emotions as unique?”

“It’s a rare type,
very
rare in fact.  But it has been reported in the past.  Brent is special but not unprecedented.  However, his control is.”

“Always a wrinkle with that boy.  How bad is it?”

“At first it was painfully obvious he had no idea what he was doing.  But suddenly, he not only altered the girl’s emotions, but he did it with the skill of a Master.  No, that’s not right.  He did it with a level of skill beyond anything I’ve
ever
encountered.  He altered her so subtly that I barely noticed.  When he grew comfortable with that, he threw caution out the window.  He did the impossible, Nathan.”

“Impossible?”

“He broke the rules.  He didn’t just bend them or cheat somehow, he just outright broke them.”

“Rules?  What are you talking about?”

“Weavers can’t
make
you feel something.  If you are in a joyful mood we can’t
make
you miserable no matter what we do.  We can make you less content or more blissful, but we can’t just create emotions out of nowhere.  It just isn’t possible.”