Chapter 15: Sunset (Sunrise) Vol 1. Issue 15.

LAHQ. Terre Department.

Scott leaned down to give Nadia a hug before setting off down the halls of LAHQA for his final few days of assessment. Somewhere along the line, he’d grown taller than two out of three of his foster team, and even though that wasn’t exactly news to him, there was something about hugging her goodbye in that moment that drove home just how far he’d come. Two days at LAHQA, home to Seattle to wait for the results, and then if he passed, he’d graduate into Neptune (hopefully) and then that was that.

At this point, they didn’t even bother assigning him a host student anymore because he’d been there enough—he knew the way. Mussing his blond hair, he rubbed the back of his head as he made his way to the dorms—room ten, hall two, they’d said.

As he set his bag down next to the bed and poked through the usual bag of granola and notebooks, he heard a knock at the door. Stuffing almost an entire granola bar in his mouth, he brushed off his hands and opened it. Casey was standing on the other side, geared up in full Neptune blacks, nearly vibrating. He should have known.

Before he could even get out a ‘hello,’ she just about bellowed, “I heard you’re gonna be in Neptune too! I asked the RA to let me know when you got here! I wanted to celebrate! If I had champagne, I’d pop it, but you aren’t allowed to drink yet and I’m not really either.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Scott laughed, struggling to swallow the too-big bite of granola bar. “Okay.” He walked back into the room and she followed. Chuckling, he said in a good-natured mock tone of voice, “Hi, Scott. How are you? It’s been a while—nice to see you again.”

Casey shook her head and bounced one of her feet. “No time for that. Too excited. Doesn’t matter.”

“How is it?” he asked, physically bracing himself for her answer.

“It’s amazing!” she trumpeted, voice bigger than her small frame. “It’s the best. You’re going to love it and you’re gonna totally ace your final assessments! Do you think you’ll be in Retrieval? Do you want to be on a team or on LAHQ staff? Maybe you’ll be assigned an internship where I am!”

“Is there a reason you’re dressed for the field?” Scott asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, avoiding her questions. His foster team was a Retrieval team. His stomach flipped at the idea of not placing into the same division as them.

“Do I need a reason?”

“Aren’t there, like, regulations about that stuff?”

Casey looked sheepish. “Yeah, but this is a celebration.”

Scott laughed, shaking his head. “Well, thank you. But don’t get too ahead of yourself just yet– I still have to pass the exams.” He’d spent the last two months doing seemingly nothing but studying for this assessment. Between the public school he was enrolled in with his foster team and the Academy curriculum demands, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep. He wondered how that would affect the psych assessment he’d have to take later today.

“So what’s your schedule?” Casey asked, sitting beside him.

He dug out the piece of folded paper he’d stuffed in his pocket, but before they could review it together, his phone pinged. Casey cocked her head. “That’s weird. Most phone numbers can’t get through down here.”

Scott shrugged and checked. There was a text from Penn Harris waiting for him. Casey jumped up with a gasp. “What is Neptune’s Fifth doing texting you? Oh my God!”

“Easy,” Scott said with another laugh. “He’s the one who found me, back when they were figuring the Venus thing out. He keeps in touch a couple times a year.”

“That’s incredible.”

“I guess,” Scott shrugged again. The text read, Let me know when you get in—I want to wish you luck!

He typed, Just got here. He paused to check his schedule before hitting send. Gotta go see my counselor. Lunch?

Casey was reading over his shoulder, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you just asked Penn Harris to have lunch with you.”

“He’ll probably be too busy,” he told her, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it behind him on the bed. He always forgot how hot and close it felt in the underground levels.

She cocked her head and leaned forward, eyes zeroing in on his chest. “Speaking of uniform regulations, what is that?” She pointed to his necklace, a simple silver chain with a small cross on it.

“It’s not against regulation,” he all but snapped. It wasn’t, but he still swiftly tucked it into his shirt and took a breath to calm his temper and soften his tone. “Graham gave it to me and he’s a Neptune team leader, so if he can wear one…” Scott felt a little guilty because his foster “dad” didn’t hide his, but it felt different here.

“Of course,” she piped. “I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I just thought you’d be done with all that Catholic stuff after where you came from.”

“Who says I’m Catholic?”

Her posture jolted as if she’d touched a live wire. “You know who else is Christian? Was Christian? Penn Harris! Did you know he used to be part of The Church?”

He smiled at her way of alleviating tension and bumped his shoulder into hers. “Yes, because you told me. Like twice.”

He stood back up to get his stuff together for his meeting with Darwin and his phone pinged again. Checking it, he said, “Well, he’s gonna be here for 1:00, so.”

“Oh my God. That’s so cool. Now you have to do well on your exams!”

“Thanks. Because I wasn’t nervous enough.”

Casey patted his shoulder with an almost humorously serious face, saying, “A little bit of nerves is good for you. You’ll be fine.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “No pressure.”

“Oh, there’s lots of pressure.”

Scott gave her what he hoped was a searing look, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Lee and Anise around? Or did she graduate?”

Casey bit her lip and l lowered her voice. “I’d give her some space. I heard she failed her latest telepath field assessment.”

He grimaced. “That sucks.”

Casey nodded, then shook the gloom from her features, saying, “Want me to walk you to the counseling wing?” In a sing-songy voice, she continued, “I have to get back to my totally awesome job and best ever life, but I’ll make time to escort you, young student.”

“Nah, I’ve got to hit the bathroom.” Taking a few steps out the door with Casey in tow, Scott said in an exaggerated tone, “But want to meet me in the Atrium for dinner, oh mighty Neptune post-graduate intern?”

“Full agent in one month, and don’t you forget it!”

“How could I possibly?” Scott laughed as they walked.

“You can’t and you won’t, because you’ll be joining me soon. Just you wait.”

Casey teleported away, back to her Retrieval job. He really would be joining her soon, saying his goodbyes to his foster team. His heart skipped a beat. He knew they’d stay in touch, and the truth was, he was excited, too. He badly wanted this, to do what his fosters do, and to do it well. He reflected on how many strange turning points he’d already passed in his life, in just short of eighteen years. His knack emerging for the first time, meeting Penn and being given his new name and new life, meeting his foster team. And now this test. He steeled himself for the next few days that would determine his future.

As he passed Anise and Lee’s room, he saw it was open and he couldn’t help but glance inside. Lee was reclining on his bed with a big set of headphones over his ears, head bobbing. Scott leaned his head in, double-checking for Anise.

Lee noticed the movement and jolted. “Hey!”

He was on Scott, hugging him before he even saw Lee start to sit up. It was faster than a teleporter and without the signature ozone scent.

“Whoa,” he gasped, before clapping him on the back in return. “I didn’t think you were supposed to use your knack outside of classes?”

Lee shushed him with a giggle. The time manipulation stuff made him giddy and a little obnoxious.

Scott checked his watch. He had a few minutes. “Speaking of, why aren’t you in class?”

He shrugged. “I’m skipping.”

Scott’s eyebrows rose. “You’re skipping. Don’t they want you in Neptune?” He added in a mutter, “For some fucking reason.” Maybe Scott could relax a little bit more about getting into Neptune.

Flopping down his bed, Lee let one arm hang off the side, stretching pathetically for an open bag of chips just out of reach on the floor. “They want my knack in Neptune, so they’ll put up with the rest of me.”

“God help your team lead.” Scott leaned down to pick up the chips as if to hand them to him, but straightened and started eating them himself.

That made Lee chuckle and then stare off at the ceiling. Scott was about to leave when he said, “I’m skipping class because Anise is having a meeting with her counselor about what they’re going to do with her. I wanted to be here.”

It made him think about his team waiting up for him, or watching Graham at the shelter they volunteered with through their church. He would sit and listen to someone for an hour, just because they needed that as much as socks and food. “You’re a good friend,” he told Lee.

Scott reached for another chip, but the bag was suddenly gone from his hands and Lee was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a mischievous grin. “Thanks,” he laughed, mouth full.

Scott rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotta run.” He turned to go but stopped short at Anise approaching the doorway. She looked pale, like a stiff wind could knock her down. “You okay?”

She looked up at him and then past him to Lee. “They’re going to fix me.” Her voice was breathless.

“What?” Lee rushed forward (at a proper human speed) to grab her by the arms.

“They’re sending me to get a post-breathe so they can fix my telepathy.”

Lee was grinning but asked anyway, “Are we happy about this?”

She nodded, smiling. “They want me in the field.” Lee hugged her tight, picking her up a few inches off the ground. Scott was happy for her, but he couldn’t help but tense. A Venus post-breathe operation could make adjustments to someone’s knack genes. He’d only heard of it used on knacks that were causing harm. Post-breathes could save lives or it could end them.

He suddenly felt like he was intruding on a private moment and awkwardly made his way around them to leave them be. Anise would be able to get to live out her dream of being a Saturn field agent. Casey was already living her dream. Lee, well, Lee would get to be Lee.

Scott would know in the next seventy-two hours if he would reach his dreams too, of being a Neptune Retrieval agent. Everything seemed to be happening so fast after so long of feeling like it would never happen. He was going to have to jog to get to his appointment but he’d make it.

---

Beatty, NV.

Reeve was lying on his back on his mechanic’s creeper in the garage, staring up at the tangled under-workings of his car. His hands were folded, resting gently on this stomach, almost meditative. A wrench and a pair of pliers sat on the ground next to him. He liked coming out here for the quiet. Hannah had her walks in the desert, Gareth had his drinking and his roster of women in the city, and Alex had his music.

Reeve, however, had his car. His strange, satisfying lie. He gazed at the gnarled metal mess above him and reached up into it, smearing a little grease across his fingertips. He had no idea what any of it meant, but he liked the image of himself covered in grease and working on the engine, of being elbow deep under the hood. And this was his time. No one would come in or bother him, and no one questioned whether or not he knew what he was doing. It was innocent and simple enough to brush their minds so they’d avoid thinking about it—not like they’d really think much about his car anyway, so it wasn’t too hard to set up a small trigger; find something else to think about instead of the garage. If you need me, call my cell—I’m probably in town. He knew it was weird, and probably pathological, but he had never lived alone and he wanted this thing to himself.

One day, he’d actually learn, well, anything at all about cars. He wanted to, but he didn’t really have the time for this hobby he had picked up to ostensibly fill his “free time.” For now, though, he was content to lay back and imagine. And if the thing wouldn’t work properly, no one actually had to know he’d brought it to a mechanic.

Reeve liked being in this place, surrounded by these smells, and in some small way, he even liked not understanding what he was looking at. For a change, not knowing was of absolutely no consequence. He could be as confused as he pleased with no line of contingencies and no one would be any worse off.

Usually, when he came out here, it was for reasons to do with that kind of thing—the peace that came with doing something inconsequential. But today, it was because he was avoiding responsibility, much as he hated to admit that to himself.

He really didn’t want to make the phone call he had to make. He’d been putting it off for a week now, and it needed to be done. He sighed and blew a strand of hair out of his mouth from where it had fallen. His phone was sitting in his pocket. No one would look for him here. No one would bother him or interrupt. He couldn’t get the same telepathic guards up around his office in the house—that would be too noticeable, too hard to maintain indefinitely, especially with a psychometrist around. When he had to make these calls, the garage was a good place to do it. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

He reached his hand down into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He had jacked up the car just enough so he could squeeze his phone in front of his face, but not quite enough to dial.

“Call Alice,” he said, and thought to himself, I really need to update his name in my phone.

He listened to the dial tone as he cradled the phone to his ear. He traced his finger along one metal tube above him as it rang.

“Reeve? Fucking took you long enough.” Austin’s voice sounded, as always, annoyed. It was deeper than the last time they’d spoken, though.

Reeve rolled his eyes. Here we go. “Yeah, sorry. Things have been busy. You know I can’t always guarantee these check-ins will be on the dot. How are things going? Did you get the money?”

Austin said, “Yeah. It got here last week. Thanks. It’s a little short, though, and my rent has gone up—not my favorite combination. What gives?”

“I sent you what I could. I’m doing you a favor, remember?” Reeve felt a headache coming on. He usually did when they spoke.

“Once again, I’d argue that you’re not so much doing me a favor as paying off a debt. And I’m going to need at least three hundred dollars more.”

Reeve said, “You’re going to have to make do without. I sent you what I could. You’re not the only person I’m doing this for.”

“Not my problem. You know what is my problem? An angry landlord and a complete lack of valid resume. It’s hard to cite job experience when you’re dead.” Austin’s voice cracked a little.

“I know you’re struggling, but it will stabilize. I set you up with an identity. You’ll be fine. I can’t just support you to this extent indefinitely. And I’d like to remind you, you could be actually dead right now. I saved your life.”

“Do we really need to have this argument again? Because don’t think I won’t shout at you about it until I’m blue or you hang up. Or both. And don’t you fucking hang up. Three hundred isn’t that much to ask.”

Reeve squinted up at the undercarriage of his car, picking one bolt to focus on. He was glad he’d chosen to do this here. “Okay. I get it. I do. I still don’t have the money for you. I’ll get it to you as soon as I can. I can make a call or two, see if I can make some recommendations to some folks who might benefit from some P.I. work or something.”

“I don’t have a private investigation license. I don’t even know how to go about getting one in France, since my new identity doesn’t exactly have the right credentials.”

Reeve sighed. “Well, not everyone is going to care about that, but I suggest you figure all that out, since that’s where you’re living now. It’s been almost a year. You’re going to have to settle in sooner or later.”

“Not without that three hundred dollars, I won’t. Because I won’t have a place to settle into. My landlord isn’t going to be chill with it. ...Unless you want me to give him your number.”

“Nice try.” Reeve chose another bolt to focus on. “I’ll make those calls. You’ll be fine. You’re a resourceful guy.” Change the subject. For fuck’s sake, don’t just keep him going on about the money. “How is the transition going? You sound good. You got steady access to the meds you need?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Reeve silently congratulated himself for derailing the conversation. Austin said, “Yeah. Thanks. It’s going well.” Another pause. “Really well. Yeah, thanks. Truly.”

Reeve nodded to himself, smiling a little. “You’re welcome. I’ve got a surgeon lined up, all paid for. They should be calling you any day now.”

“Thanks.” Austin sounded awkward and free of venom. It made Reeve feel a little better. Maybe he could win him over after all.

Reeve said, “So it’s all going okay then, money aside.”

“Sure. As much as it can, I guess.”

“Good. I’ll make those calls. Expect someone to be in touch. I’ll send more money when I can and I’ll talk to you again in a month.” He hung up before Austin could say anything else. He hated giving Austin the last word.

The car’s undercarriage was shiny in some spots, and Reeve let his gaze wander over them, taking in the patina surrounding those small bright areas. After a few minutes of silence, he sighed and pushed himself out from under the car. He sat up, opened up his contacts, and edited Austin’s name.

Reeve rested his back against the tire of his car. It was done. He had another month before he had to dive back into that endless argument. The guy knew how to hold a grudge. He’d have to think about who the hell he could call about finding Austin work—this was all so much more complicated than he’d anticipated. But it’s worth it, he thought to himself. It’s worth it.

---

LAHQ. Terre Department.

Darwin was late getting to his office that morning, moving slowly after a night of bad sleep, but it wasn’t a big deal because he had a free block first thing that day—which is why he was confused when there was a student he’d never met before waiting for him outside his door. She was older, late high-school age, but with a slight frame and light brown hair.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Sorry, I know I’m early, but I didn’t want to get lost trying to find your office for the first time and end up being late.”

Darwin clumsily juggled his bag and coffee to dig out his office key. “Uh, are you sure you’re not lost?”

Her eyes slid to the side in a dubious look. “Aren’t you Darwin?”

His teeth clicked together. He racked his brain for his schedule. He knew his schedule. He knew his people. He’d checked his email the night before. He’d been at this job for almost five years now. He didn't mess these kinds of things up.

Darwin unlocked his door and held up one finger. “Can you give me just a second? Sorry, what’s your name?”

“Anise.”

“Hi. One second.”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

He slipped into his office and rested the back of his head on the door for approximately half a second before bolting to turn on his computer, which felt like it was taking a full year to boot up. In the meantime, he slid a pile of papers off the student chair where he’d parked them last night and spun around looking for a free surface to place them, but there wasn’t one. There had been a reason he’d stuck them on the chair. The computer made its start up sound, and Darwin rushed back over, tossing the stack of papers on the floor under his desk. Pulling up his calendar, he saw that his schedule looked all wrong, so he dialed his boss while tapping his foot frantically to the hold music.

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“Hello, this is Leah.”

“Hi,” he squeaked, “It’s Darwin. I have a question. Or, I guess it’s not a question.” He took a breath and cringed as she kindly waited for him to make sense. “My schedule and dashboard are looking weird this morning when I logged in an—”

“Oh,” she interrupted. “You should have gotten an email about that.”

Darwin felt his jaw clench. It wasn’t a comforting lead in. “No?” He might have, he cringed. “I don’t think so,” he went on, drawing out the words slowly, mindful of not leaving huge gaps of silence on the phone as he studied his email in a panic.

“Well,” Leah said with a tone that Darwin took to be annoyance, “Brittany got promoted out of Student Care, so her students were handed off.” Brittany was an older woman in student guidance. They hadn’t talked much.

“Yup,” Darwin piped as his eyes landed on an unread email with a subject line ‘Congrats Brittany,’ which he hadn’t bothered to open. “I see it now. It was in my spam folder for some reason,” he lied.

“Ah.”

“Okay,” he said quickly, “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a mistake.” He couldn’t remember what he had said throughout the entire call. Had he made any sense?

“No mistake. You might want to take the weekend to read over your new student files, though, and get acquainted.”

“Right. Okay, but one of them is standing outside my door right now,” he stammered.

“Then I should let you go so you can deal with that.”

“Yes. Okay. Thank you!”

“No problem. Good luck!”

“You too—I mean. Thanks!” Darwin hung up before he could do any more damage. He dropped his face into his hands. You too? Really? He didn’t have time to dwell. Or rather, not at that moment. He was positive he’d dwell on that tidbit in bed, later that night.

He scrambled to open up the file for Anise del Sol, then realized he’d lost track of how long he’d left her standing in the hallway. Shit shit shit. He abandoned his desk and opened the door.

“Hi, come in,” he said with a wide, nervous smile. “I’m sorry about that. No one told me you’d been assigned to me until after I saw you, so if I seem a little frazzled, it’s because I am.”

She nodded, her lips in a tight smile. He’d expected her to look annoyed, but her expression was more amused than anything.

Her file had loaded when he sat back down behind his desk and he ran his eyes over it as quickly as he could. Anise del Sol. Nineteen. She’d been held back. Telepath. Oh. He made an effort to pull in the frantic jumble of his thoughts.

“It’s fine,” she said, sitting down with a huff. “This is kind of a useless meeting anyway, since I’ll be gone next week.”

Darwin looked up from his screen. “Gone?”

“Yeah, I’m being transferred to Kyiv’s Academy.”

Darwin cocked his head. “Kyiv’s Academy closed when I was a kid.” He sipped from his coffee travel mug, in case that was the reason he was so slow that morning—then tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as he removed yesterday’s travel mug and a disposable coffee cup from the top of his desk. They went down on the floor too.

She shrugged, bored. “They’re bringing it back for this pilot program they’re starting to support this new post-breathe innovation thing they’re gonna put me through.”

“Wait.” Darwin closed his eyes, struggling to think. “Okay, hold on. Why do you need a post-breathe?”

Post-breathe knack alterations were a way to adjust or eliminate a person’s knack after the in vitro stage. It was a dangerous and painful procedure (how could it not be, to have your DNA systematically altered?) so it was almost never performed on kids. Technically she was of age, but until they graduated, students were still minors in Sol’s eyes. Post-breathes were rarely even performed on adults, save for cases when their knack was truly detrimental or hazardous. And nothing about her appeared like her knack was causing extreme distress.

“Kyiv has this new, safer method, and the way my knack is now, they’re never going to let me out into the field. They say this will give me the boost I need.”

Darwin sped through her file. She was on a Saturn track, perfect marks, and had excelled through the standard Saturn classes, enough that they had to start creating independent studies to keep her challenged. Something from her history made him pause. She was one of the Venus Twenty-five, which made him even more confused, as they’d been so adamant to keep those students close to LA.

Then he noticed her telepath score– 1.0. The Corp rated telepaths on a scale of 0 to 3, for whatever reason, and even Darwin knew that you needed a score of at least 1.5 to qualify for fieldwork. The fact that her telepathy had stalled out was most likely genetic and not due a lack of motivation or effort, given her stellar academic performance. Her records hypothesized it may be because telepathy wasn’t the knack she had been gen’ed for. She was one of the Twenty-five, so she was supposed to be a probability manipulator and if that were to fail, like it did, she was meant to be a healer, which she clearly was not. There were three kids where that happened, and there didn’t seem to be any explanation.

“So you’re looking forward to this?” he ventured. He was going to have to read up on what the hell was going on out in Kyiv.

She shrugged again. “I guess. I mean, I don’t want to leave all my friends. Plus, I think I’m only the second student to be assigned to this program, so that’s freaky, but I feel like I kinda don’t have a choice. They gave me a chance to repeat my last year to try to get my score up, but nothing’s worked. I’ve been training to be a Saturn agent my whole life. I’m not built for deskwork.” Kids coming out of the Academy always seemed adult beyond their years simply due to the weight and demands of the training, but that sounded a little too grown up, even for LAHQA.

Darwin wanted to challenge her and suggest that people her age don’t really know what they’re built for yet, but he knew there was a decent chance that, as a telepath, she knew that Darwin had known that he was exclusively built for deskwork at probably half her age.

“Do you want to talk about that?”

She shook her head. “Why? Nothing to really talk about. I just need you to tick whatever box you need to that says I’m mentally stable enough for this transfer, just like Brittany did before she got moved to management or wherever.”

“You feel like you are?”

She set her shoulders back and looked down her nose at him, making her look larger than her tiny frame. “If you stuck me next to any human candidate up for employment at Central Intelligence, I’d blow them all out of the water without using my knack—but that won’t cut it here. I need to have both. Just—” Darwin watched her take a breath to calm herself down. “Just talk to Brittany. I have class.” She stood just as her eyes were beginning to get glassy and left without looking at him.

“I’m here if you need anything!” Darwin called after her. Once she was gone, he dropped his head in his hands and found his ears had shifted without him noticing. He groaned, but didn’t bother putting them away. They’d just end up back out again.

He scanned through the student file and dialed up Brittany. “Hi,” he started in. “This is Darwin. I just had a session with Anise del Sol, a former student of yours?”

“Yes?” He could hear papers rustling in the background.

“She says she’s being transferred to the Academy in Kyiv for a post-breathe, but her file only confirms that she’s being transferred to Kyiv. I haven’t heard anything about this, and the Kyiv office page doesn’t mention anything about an Academy. And, I mean, I know I’ve been busy, but that seems like something that I’d have heard talk about.”

“Oh. Well, I was told they weren’t being very public about any of it just yet because they don’t want to be bombarded with applications. They don’t have approval for more than a couple of students right now, so don’t mention it to anyone.”

“So, that’s all legit? This new post-breathe thing?”

“Yup. Believe me, it’s a good thing. The most dangerous place in Sol is between that girl and a position in Saturn.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She excused herself and they ended the call. Darwin didn’t feel good about any of it. But with over a dozen more new student files to go over and one of his regular students set to show up in five minutes, he’d just have to trust Brittany for now and try to investigate Anise’s file later. And drink coffee. Way more coffee.

---

LAHQ. Neptune Department.

“Hey,” Freddie called into Sage’s office. She waited for him to look up from his computer, face drawn and tired. She nodded her head to Penn, standing behind her. “We’re heading out for the night. We’re gonna go grab Casper and get some food. You wanna come?”

His forehead creased and she knew there was no dragging him out from behind his desk. She’d known the chances were basically zero, but they liked to try anyway. Sage brought his eyes back to the screen.

“I just got approval from Mercury for an Icarus declaration, so I want to get this done and in motion with Retrieval ASAP.”

She spared Penn a glance and thought, Ten bucks says he’s still wearing that shirt when we come in tomorrow.

One of Penn’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. I’m not just going to hand you my money with a bow on it. He cleared his throat. “Do you want me to make sure I earmark a Cleanup team to keep at your disposal tomorrow?”

She could see his mouth tighten. “No, Will is going to have to read through everything and pick out two Retrieval teams, so the chances of this hitting the field tomorrow aren’t great.”

It wasn’t her place to dress Will down for how he ran the Retrieval division and Freddie knew it. The job was getting done, but she would never have tolerated the snail's pace of Will’s paperwork or his occasionally missed details the way Sage or even Rich had. It got under her skin.

Freddie cocked her head and stared deadpan until Sage looked up. “You okay with it taking that long? Are we just going to keep letting him slack?”

Sage sighed. “I’ll talk to Will about it at our meeting next week. I will.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Is the Icarus anyone Reintegration needs to prep to take in?”

“No.”

That made it easy for her.

“Alright.” Freddie shrugged and patted his doorframe. “See you tomorrow.”

“Call if you get done early and want to join us,” Penn called as they walked away, smiling.

“Man,” she breathed, taking down her ponytail to retie it straighter, “can you imagine working on Will time? We could have a social life instead of the occasional dinner where we all sit around, dead behind the eyes, waiting to be paged back to some emergency.”

Penn scoffed.

She looked over at him. “Okay, well I could. If you worked on Will time, the entire world would probably know about knacked people in twenty-four hours and LAHQ would be carpet bombed in forty-eight.”

His mouth was a flat line. “The way things are going, I could double the hours I work and the entire world could still know about knacked people twenty-four hours from now.”

“Oh my god, lighten the fuck up.”

“Hey, Penn!”

They stopped on a dime and turned at Sage’s voice.

“On second thought,” Sage continued from his office doorway, “can you put a Cleanup team on standby for the op? Just so I don’t have to worry about it?”

Of course, Sage would still be worrying about it, like everything else, but Freddie was glad that there was a tangible thing that could be done to at least relieve that particular stress—and that he was smart enough to take someone up on the offer for once.

Penn nodded and projected his voice. “Absolutely, sir. Where’s the op? Just so I can give them a heads up.”

“Vegas.”

---

Beatty, NV.

Reeve watched Alex drop to the living room floor and flop his head back dramatically to rest it on the couch beside Reeve’s legs.

“I need about six naps. If you really want us to have lessons right after breakfast when it’s your turn to cook, you need to not make something as filling as huevos rancheros.”

“Never gonna happen.”

Alex groaned. “Fine. We’re doing telepath defense again?”

“Mmhm.”

“Think of a number and don’t let you find it?”

“Mmhm.”

For the next ten or so minutes they played a familiar game of cat and mouse, where Reeve combed through Alex’s mind, coming up against the barriers and locks he’d taught Alex to build and testing them.

Alex, sounding tired, let out a breath. “Gimme a second. You know, they never test this shit at evals. Is it even in the curriculum?”

“No, but I think you’ll find it’s useful. And if you end up in Neptune, you’ll be trained to fight against other knacked people—like telepaths—and this’ll put you ahead of the curve.”

Alex huffed. “Can we at least switch it up and do something more interesting than numbers.”

“I guess. This is just how I was taught.”

“Were you supposed to be in Neptune?”

“Well, no,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. On the floor, Alex stretched his left arm awkwardly. Being already entrenched in his head, Reeve could feel the pulling pain of it. “What’s wrong?”

“Gareth went a little rough on me yesterday.”

He patted the couch to the right of him. “Come up here.”

Alex uncurled his legs and moved up to sit beside him. Reeve ran his thumbs across the muscles of Alex’s forearm and worked at the knots until he felt Alex relax against him.

“Hey, your birthday is in days and you still haven’t told us what you want to do.”

Alex tensed up again. “Sure I have.”

“Alex.” He hadn’t meant for this to turn into a fight.

“Turning eighteen is nothing to celebrate if it means I’m gonna get shipped off to live with strangers after my next eval.” Alex wouldn’t look at him and his tone was biting.

Reeve felt a deep ache in his chest. It was a subject all of them had been avoiding. He hated that their last months together would be at least partially spoiled by these painful arguments. All his telepathy and time in Alex’s head didn’t help him know what to say any more than the others, because they couldn’t say what Alex wanted to hear.

“The last time you got shipped off to live with strangers, it turned out pretty okay.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to spend my entire life doing that over and over again. And that’s not the fucking point.”

“I’m sorry. I wish you could stay with us.” He meant it. He studied Alex’s face, the straight line of his jaw and set mouth, wisps of cherry red hair brushing his cheekbones, the slight lift of his chin. He’d grown into himself over the years. Their training had honed muscle and given him a litheness in his movements. What had started as brash snark meant to cover up insecurity had become true confidence, for the most part, and Reeve had to admit he sometimes thought Alex was better at occupying his own skin than Reeve had ever felt in his life. He thought of all this and hated everything about the situation.

“I mean,” Alex started quietly but gained steam as he went. “It’s not a typical foster situation—you said so, so why can’t this be a not typical team situation?”

“Don’t think we’re not going to submit that request in writing—we are.” The three of them had talked about it and were working on drafts. “I’m just saying, we need to prepare for the likelihood that it won’t work out, which is what I expect to happen.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“I know.” Reeve shifted to put his arm around Alex and gave him a squeeze. Alex leaned on him, feeling like a heavy deadweight, and rested his head on his shoulder. Reeve let out a breath and rested his cheek on the top of Alex’s head. “You know we all love you, right?”

That was another gift Alex had given them as a team. He had been so strong and stubborn and serious and quick to laugh at the same time, that it was impossible to not love him. And then it became easy to say it to each other. Arguments between the three of them had gone from civil but biting at best, and shouting matches at worst, to minor tiffs prefaced with phrases like, Hannah, I love you, but…

“I love you too.” Alex nuzzled his cheek into Reeve’s shoulder and Reeve sensed the buzz of warmth that he worked so hard to avoid, like landmines inside Alex’s mind. He walled off his head to stop the flow, but the buzz didn’t change, making him startle. He wasn’t used to any pushback on his telepathy, and he swiftly scanned his boundaries to see where Alex’s thoughts were still accidentally getting through.

“You okay?” Alex asked looking up, having felt him go tense.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Reeve couldn’t find the breach, and when he glanced over to see Alex looking up at him, that buzzing ache only got worse.

Fuck.

Reeve swallowed as discreetly as he could. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said, trying to bring the conversation back around to his graduation. “We’re going to do everything we possibly can.”

Alex nodded into his shoulder and Reeve turned the hand resting on Alex’s forearm palm up. He had to see. Alex took it and gave his hand a squeeze. He found his fingers sweaty, probably from being upset over the subject. That heat pricked at Reeve’s skin and came alive in his belly. There was no breach. It wasn’t Alex’s reaction he was sensing.

The notification sound for LAHQ alerts went off on his laptop sitting on the coffee table, saving him. He’d deal with all this later. Get himself sorted out.

Giving Alex one final squeeze, he sat upright and removed his arm.

“Oh my god, Reeve,” Alex protested, “Just let it sit for once.”

“It’s from the Corp.” He read through the communication and swore. There went all his plans for the day.

“What is it?”

“They need us to run an urgent mission.” He set his computer back down. “Urgent, urgent. As in right now.”

Alex grimaced. “Jesus.”

“It happens. Not often, but…” He was finding it hard to keep his eyes on his laptop, with the way Alex was doing his best to hide his dejection at being left alone after the hard conversation they’d just had about him feeling abandoned. “Do you want to come? Shadow us? Get some time in the field and your mind off all of this?”

His face lit up in a way that gripped Reeve’s stomach. “Hell, yeah.” Alex stopped, with a surge of disappointment. “Wait, don’t you need to go through some dumb approval process to bring me with you?”

He did, and there obviously wasn’t time for that, but Reeve saw the way Alex’s face had brightened and he couldn’t bear it. They only had so much time left together, the four of them.

“Fuck it.”

Alex grinned. “Who are you and what have you done with Reeve?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not like it’s the first time I’ve bent the rules.” Reeve did his best to ignore the dull ache in his chest and the warmth there, too, as Alex smiled at him with his own singular brand of mischief. “Get dressed. I’ll go tell the others.”

“Where are we going?” Alex asked, standing and stretching. The way he saw Alex’s energy return after how dark his mood had gone, Reeve felt all the better about Alex shadowing them last minute, even without getting it cleared. What Sol didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“Vegas.”

***