Unfit (7 page)

  I glance out the window. It’s still dawn. The sun has barely chosen to cross the horizon, and birds chirp fiercely.

  Birds... clock noises... arguing people downstairs. I’ll have to start sleeping in a cement box if I want to get through the night without waking.

  The arguing sounds like Greg and his mother. After a bit of searching, I find the heat register where the voices are coming from.

  “I can’t understand what you see in that peasant girl, Gregory.”

  “Aww, Mom, if you’d just give her a chance.”

  “I’m giving her far more than a chance, but she just doesn’t measure up.”

  I find it unlikely they randomly decided to have this argument right below me. Greg’s mother
wants
me to overhear this. She hopes it will break my resolve. She will be in for a surprise.

  “You must make a choice soon. Girls of Alešan’s calibre don’t come along often.”

  “I know, I know.”

  So! Alešan is not just a random girl taking lessons. She’s the one Greg’s mother intends for him to wed. Now there’s two people to fight to get to Greg. This should prove an interesting challenge.

  By the time I finish my morning ablutions and get to the kitchen, Mrs. Lanarr has left. Greg pokes his head in from the dining room.

  “Eat fast so I can walk you to school, ‘kay?”

  “My school’s far. I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Too far to walk?”

  No Greg. For you I would walk to the moon.

  “It’s doable.”

  “Right. Hurry then.”

  There’s fried eggs on the stove and biscuits in the oven. I help myself, as I’ve been told to do in the mornings. There are two paper-bagged lunches on the counter. One for me and one for Panne. Alešan doesn’t take a lunch when she goes to school. I take one bag, then dash up to my room for my books.

  Greg opens the door for me and we’re on our way. Once out of sight of the house he takes my hand.

  His touch is vibrant-electric. He has a lot of things on his public mind. Like the morning’s discussion with his mother. And last night. I see Alešan’s shadow behind this mental collage. Sudden wariness breaks the reading.

  “Are you scanning my mind?” he asks.

  “We’re holding hands. I can’t really help it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a partial rapport. I can’t help but get basic surface thoughts. I know you’re happy right now. I sense Alešan on your mind.”

  “Oh her,” says Greg. “Yeah, she’s my mother’s pick. For my mom, it’s about scoring a good family tie by marriage. Marrying Alešan guarantees a form of safety. It will take me a while to convince her that you’re the one, not her.”

  The images dancing above his head tell me the rest of the story. He finds Alešan pretty enough, but boring. And he knows she plays some political game past what his family’s money can handle.

  For all the Lanarrs seem rich to me, Alešan’s family is far richer. Her parents own a bigger house with a six-car garage. Their house borders a private lake that feeds their sprawling ranch. If Greg marries Alešan, he becomes a pawn in her parent’s game.

  “You must choose if you should marry her out of duty.”

  “Or you, for love.”

  “If you keep saying stuff like that, I’m going to melt, and you’ll have to scrape me off the sidewalk.”

  We chat during the 20-minute walk. It’s funny how I can spend so long talking to Greg; there’s just so much to tell him. My life growing up was so different from his, it feels like we’ve been raised in two different cities.

  When we reach the tax office, there’s still a loosely-knit mob encircling it. The smouldering pile of bricks is all that remains of the fire. Litter blows in the street as people march to and fro, yelling at each other.

  The electrical power-station is still out. People have torn down the fence around it and broken in. All the wires are down. Buses won’t be able to get by without the cables running overhead.

  Not that any bus could hope to navigate this street. Too many people walk about, refusing to cede place. There’s one overturned car in sight. The tires have been removed. No doubt they’re buried in the wreckage of the tax office.

  “This is nuts,” says Greg. We stop walking to stare, and I grip his arm.

 
Reiki?
I ask, mind going out to her.

 
Hi Kwan!

  I get an image from her that suggests she’s hiding in her room peeking between the blinds. A gang of two dozen men has formed on her street and they are flipping a car as she watches.

 
Oh no, I’m all right
, says Reiki.
Those men won’t bother our house. They’re just lashing out at car owners
.

 
Stay safe. I’ll be in touch
.

  My brother is okay, when I feel for his mind. I gather he’s in his room playing. My parents and grandfather live as well. I would know instantly if they came to suffer harm.

  I spot Harry from school. He stands near the power-station, having just detached a length of cable with a handsaw. I wave to get his attention. When he sees me, he loops the cable over his shoulder and comes over.

  “Kwan, you should have seen it. They killed Pertran’s group. They have their heads all lined up on pikes behind the textile plant.”

  “This is terrible. So much chaos.”

  “Yeh but there’s no school. That’s awesome.”

  “Hi. I’m Greg,” says my boyfriend, releasing my arm in order to extend a hand.

  “Hi Greg. I’m Harry.”

  They shake hands. Greg’s thoughts read curiosity about the cable Harry grips over his shoulder. I’ll have to explain to him later that Harry will sell it for coin. Greg is probably not used to the kind of looting that will happen today.

  Harry excuses himself quickly to rejoin the scavenging, leaving Greg and me staring at chaos.

  “Come, Kwan, I’ll walk you back to the house since your school is closed today.”

  “I need to go to my grandfather’s. In this mess there’s no one to bring him his lunch.”

  “Is it safe enough for me to leave you there? I got exams this afternoon and I can’t afford to miss them, or my GPA will drop.”

  “It should be safe. I sense no trouble from his mind.”

  “Come, then.”

  I point out the direction, and we hustle away from the looters.

  Everything is quiet at Shining Star Palliative since it’s far enough from the trouble area.

  Once they buzz the door open for me, Greg gathers me into a parting hug. He kisses me on the cheekbone right by the nose. It’s so surprising, I almost slip and let the door close and re-latch. I stand there for a moment, watching him leave. His touch lingers, burning the back of my neck where he cradled my head.

  Grandpa sleeps when I enter his ward. I sit in a an armchair quietly to wait. But there’s sadness in the air, pecking at my spirit. I become determined to find the source.

  I reach out to Reiki. She’s still in her room, sitting on her bed against a mound of pillows, reading a library book. No thoughts of imminent danger from her. My parents are still okay. I can even sense Hattie, who blissfully sleeps, thoughts etched in relief to be free from school.

  I reach out to Kajo, not harbouring much hope of getting him through his electrokinetic shields. It’s why I’m surprised to feel a connection form.

  He’s downtown, kneeling on the roof of an office tower, overlooking the Coalition’s fortress. Sadness and grief shadow his mind. His mother has been killed in the chaos. His house has been destroyed. He has come there to die. To die and destroy the Coalition with him if he can. He waits to find the chronomancers he’s certain are involved. Once he finds them, he will attack.

 
So you can destroy them?
I ask, surprising him.

 
Kwan?
He says. I feel some of the darkness leave his soul when he hears me. He rises and looks about to see if I’m near him.

 
I’m not here. You’re thinking too loud.

 
My mother blasted the house, rather than be taken by the chronomancers.

 
I know
, I say. Friends are all Kajo has left. He’s never met his father: that much I determine from the connection. He has no relatives. His mother came here all the way from Wyverna, so he is halfway around the world from any demesne of his kind.

  The image of the chronomancer assassins comes up in his mind again. Using his mental images as a beacon, I reach out, looking for the killers. I sense them to the south-east of Hillvale. Maybe in Graal. I’m not too sure.

 
All right. I will go there and pay the chronomancers a visit,
says Kajo.

  He visualizes a journey to find them. I feel a gulf of loneliness beckoning him.

 
Not without me you won’t
, I say. It’s a bit out of character for someone like me, who’s never even been out of Hillvale. But I would be a terrible friend to let him face this alone. Besides, in this chaos, I might even be safer around a Lightning.

  If only this little trip of his wouldn’t clash with school. Perhaps I can convince him to go on a weekend.

 
I will wait for school to end
, says Kajo.

  His mind has already forgotten suicide. I can sense him planning a renewed future.

 
Yes, Kwan. It is time I stepped up and took our half of Hillvale.

 
Why not the entire demesne? You’d make the very best Namika in history.

 
Oh Kwan.
He laughs.

 
I was serious.

 
I must go prepare. See you in a week.

  I release Kajo and think to myself about the unusual deal I’ve just made. What word can best summarize my mood right now? Excitement? Trepidation? I think somewhere in between.

  “Haw, a date with Kajo?”

  “Grandpa! You’re awake.”

  “All that loud ’pathing, how could I sleep?” He sits up and swings his feet off the bed, so he can stand up and stretch his spine. I remain put, knowing he doesn’t want help in this simple activity. “Now who’s this young man I see in your mind? And who’s that, his mother?”

  “Greg’s my boyfriend now, Grandpa. He’s introduced me to his mother and now I’m staying over there getting lessons.”

  “Pity. Now you’re off the market for lonely men like me.”

  “Buzzard! I was never on the market for you. How come you keep forgetting we’re related?”

  My grandfather laughs and walks over to the window. I notice his gait is fairly smooth. His hip must be almost fully healed.

  “Forget? I got a memory an elephant would be jealous of. And what’s going on outside. What was all that racket last night.”

  I stand up and join him at the window, where I grasp his arm at the elbow. Spurred on by the physical contact, we enter rapport. He sees my memories of last night.

  “Haw! Those Lightnings got themselves in a pickle all right. And this must be Mrs. Lanarr.

  I let him watch my first day’s lesson with the tutor. He watches it piecemeal, just flipping to the interesting parts, and slowing at the moment when my parents meet Greg’s.

  “That’s why I’ve not been by to bring you your lunch lately, Grandpa.”

  “Seems you’ve got yourself a pilgrimage with Kajo too, m’dear.”

  “A pilgrimage?”

  “Ya. It’ll impress that cuckoo Lanarr lady too.”

  “Who are you to call someone a cuckoo, you buzzard?”

  “I sense through your memories a darkness in her. A hidden side of her, tucked away. I must meet her so I can evaluate her myself.”

  “No way, Grandpa. She’s married. Go ogle the nurses instead.”

  My grandfather laughs loudly. “No dear. It’s much more than getting a gander of a bit of tail. I sense it will be life and death for you.”

  “You’ve developed a sudden talent in chronomancy?”

  “Tell her of your travel plans, dear one. I think she’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  I end up spending all day with my grandfather.

  Around noon I go home to my parents’ to prepare him a lunch. This gives me a chance to see that last night’s riot is finally calming down. I catch up on gossip and find out the telekinetics running the ‘Canoid have disbanded. The rumour-mill says that Kajo is planning to declare shortly, so the political climate is already shifting.

  By the time classes would normally end for the day, a taxi shows up from the Lanarrs’. The driver buzzes the office to ask for me.

  I leave my grandfather playing lawn darts and board it while the driver holds the carriage door. Mrs. Lanarr awaits me as I alight on their front doorstep.

  “Come child, you mustn’t tarry late in that part of town,” she says, as she removes her glasses to peer at me

  I give a respectful curtsy. “It’s not dangerous. For me it’s home.”

  “A home that will tear you apart if you’re not careful. Come now and sup with us.”

  Using the neatly manicured hand holding the glasses, she points down the hall. I precede her, as directed, into the dining room, where I take a place across from Alešan. Panne sits beside her, then Greg, and then a man I’ve not seen before. On my side, the stranger’s daughter and wife are seated. Greg’s father sits at the head of the table and Mrs. Lanarr comes to sit beside me.

  Alešan wears heavy makeup today. It’s the expensive arsenic-based kind decried by bios worldwide, but it’s highly resistant. She eyes me with open hostility as I sit down. I try to ignore her while I focus on remembering my dining etiquette lessons.

 
Little rat, see how she concentrates on what fork to choose.

  The thought pops into my head from Alešan. Her hatred for me must be consuming her entire public mind for me to hear it without even trying to read her. I keep my eyes down, hoping to go on ignoring her, as the introductions take place around the table.

 
She can’t hear me. I think Greg was lying about her being a telepath.

  I cannot help but glance at Greg. Why has he told Alešan my secret? It wasn’t his to share. Oh well. It doesn’t matter after rescuing Tiller last night. The entire demesne will know soon, when word spreads of me putting that chronomancer to sleep. What with Kajo’s plan to take over East Hillvale, my telepathy need not remain a secret. It’s hard to get used to, but soon I will no longer need to fear the Coalition taking me away.