Alex inched his way up in bed and took a long look at the man sitting confidently in a hospital chair by his bedside. He was thirty-something and built, but in a practical sort of way — like he might do physical labor, Alex thought, not like he spent a lot of time in the gym. He appeared to be heavily tattooed, black line work creeping up his neck and peeking out from his sleeves on his wrists, the spidery designs only marginally darker than his skin. He smiled broadly, and for the entire world seemed utterly benevolent.
“Who are you?”
“You don’t want to know where you are? That’s what people in your situation usually start with.”
“I’ll decide what I’d like to know, thanks,” Alex said tersely. He regretted it immediately and softened his tone. No point in making unnecessary enemies, particularly when he didn’t know what was going on. “Who are you, exactly?”
Michael laughed abruptly, and then nodded.
“Alright, Alex, we’ll do it your way. You don’t mind if I call you Alex, do you?”
Alex shook his head.
“My name is Michael Lacroix; we’ll shake when you’re feeling better. I work here.”
“You’re supposed to be a doctor?”
“No, nothing of the sort,” Michael said with his wide, disarming smile. “This isn’t a hospital Alex; it’s the medical wing of a university. There’s nothing to worry about, though. You are getting the best medical care possible.”
“Sounds expensive,” Alex said, looking pointedly at the pitcher and water glass on his bedside table.
“It could be,” Michael allowed, pouring water into the plastic cup and handing it to Alex, “that is a definite possibility, what with the sorry state of the world. But there’s another possibility I’d like you to consider with me, Alex, one in which this whole experience costs you nothing at all, not one cent. Not financially, anyway.”
“Alright,” Alex said, sipping water from the cup slowly, holding it with his good arm. His other arm was wrapped in bandages and had a cast up to the elbow. He couldn’t see much of his injuries, but the pain in his left forearm was severe, and he wiggled his fingers nervously, just to be certain he still could. “Tell me all about it, Mr. Lacroix.”
“Well, as it I see it, there’s a few different ways this could go,” Michael said blithely. “I’m not an expert in this, mind you, but I’ve got colleagues who are. And this is how they see it.”
Michael leaned forward and spoke confidentially.
“One way it could go, Alex, we patch you up and send you home. The cops will hold you for a while, check out whatever story you tell them, then they’ll probably let you go. ‘Fraid we’ll have to stick you with the bill, so sorry. You keep on doing whatever it is you think you’re doing in that pathetic little town; whatever parody of life it is you think you are living, right? Your big bright future, yeah?”
Alex let it pass without comment. He felt completely bewildered. The man’s face beamed with positivity, but he felt a bit pissed at the tone he was taking. Not that he’d said anything that wasn’t true, but it seemed rude to come right out and say it.
“The other way we can do things is a lot more interesting.” Michael grinned again. “From my perspective, anyway.”
“Oh?” Alex said, finally, when it became clear that the odd man not only expected a response, but seemed prepared to wait however long was necessary to get it.
“Yes, I think so. A private institution, the very Academy that we currently occupy, as a matter of fact, has taken an interest in you, young Alex. We would like to offer you a place among our students, a stellar and far- ranging education in a number of esoteric and often-overlooked subjects, with the promise of eventual lucrative employment. This would obviously include full coverage of your medical expenses and a, shall we say, intervention in your legal affairs to preclude any further problems with the police,” Michael finished cheerfully.
“I see,” Alex said doubtfully, not at all sure that he did. “Um, can I ask why?”
It all felt like a hustle to Alex, an impossibly elaborate scam, but he felt too wary of Michael to make a fuss about it. Whoever this man was, he was sure that he wasn’t to be taken lightly, sunny disposition aside. The whole thing could be a con, but Alex was sure that Michael was not to be messed with.
“Because you have potential, Alex, potential that we can help you develop,” Michael answered sincerely. “Because there is something — a number of things, really — that can only be done by people with that kind of potential, and the only place capable of fully realizing that potential is here.”
Alexander looked at Michael’s open, honest face for a long moment, and then nodded.
“Alright,” he said firmly.
“Just like that? No more questions?”
“Oh, I have lots of questions,” Alex replied, yawning. “I have questions about pretty much everything. But I’m tired, and my arm hurts, and I don’t want to deal with the cops, or the bills.”
“Alright, then, excellent…”
Michael stood up, and began to push the chair to the side of the room.
“But so we understand each other,” Alex said, carefully lowering himself back down on the bed. “I don’t really want to go to your school, whatever it is. I can’t really think of anything I want to do right now.”
Alex laid his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes, the pain in his arm beginning to bother him.
“But, no one has ever said I’ve got potential for anything but trouble. And I don’t have anything else going on, Mr. Lacroix,” Alex said moodily. “So, I’ve got questions, and reservations. And if I don’t like what happens from here on out, I’ll walk away. If you want an answer, then that’s mine. Whatever it is you’ve got in mind, it’s probably better than my other options.”
“I understand you, Alexander,” Michael said, nodding. “I’m okay with that.”
“Like I give a shit,” Alex said, rolling onto his side, facing away from Michael. “Do you have nurses around this place? Could you please tell them that I am in a whole lot of pain? Is that possible?”
Michael nodded seriously. He liked the kid already, and anyway, he had something he really needed to look at in the boy’s charts, rather urgently, before anyone else got the same idea.
Six
“How are you feeling, Mitsuru?”
Gaul kept his voice mild, looking over the battered Operator on the other side of the desk. She had refused to be treated for any of the injuries she’d sustained during the operation — something that worried Gaul, even if it was mostly minor cuts and bruising. She’d changed into a loose t-shirt and black yoga pants, but she had dried blood caked on her wounded hands, and the faint remnants of her nosebleed stained her nostrils. Mitsuru’s relationship with injury disturbed Gaul.
Mitsuru met Gaul’s stare, her crimson-tinted irises almost identical to his own. He was surprised to see tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“If it’s all the same with you, Director, I would prefer to discuss this with the Chief Auditor first,” she began, sounding as tired as she looked.
“I’m sorry,” Gaul said, shaking his head curtly, “but that isn’t how it works. Alistair works for me, and so do you. I decide who does what and when. Right now, the Chief Auditor is coordinating the mop-up for today’s operations, and we are debriefing. You understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Mitsuru said quietly, eyes on the floor. Gaul felt the frustration he’d been suppressing since the morning well up inside him.
“I’m certain that when his tasks are completed, your mentor will come to collect you,” he said, with more venom then he’d intended.
Mitsuru’s sob was immediate, and he looked away, guilty and confused. He didn’t care much for Alistair, or for his pet Operator, for that matter. Even Gaul had to admit that Mitsuru was a brilliant field operative — but defective, unfit. He understood the need for tame monsters; after all, he had spearheaded Alice Gallow’s ascension to Audits decades ago himself. However, he didn’t feel that Mitsuru was tame, just monstrous.
Which made him totally unprepared for her to start crying.
Gaul had taught Mitsuru years ago, and in his own limited way he liked her. Moreover, he respected her
