Trial 017 - 2019 Wattys Sci-Fi Winner

Chapter 4

As soon as the door shut, I glared down at Peter, who never seemed to flinch under my glare.

"That was kind of rude," I observed. "You didn't even let me say good-bye."

Peter shrugged and walked faster. "No point."

I sighed inwardly. Peter's nonexistent manners came from his nonexistent social life. Too many hours spent in the lab gave him a perpetually cranky disposition. Of course, once you spent enough time around him, you eventually got used to it.

"Alright then," I said smugly, catching up to my little brother. "So, who's Helen?"

"Respected friend and colleague," Peter answered. He glanced at me sideways. "Part-time doctor, full-time medical student."

I made a twisting motion with my hands. "Continue, Peter."

"She's the top of her class. When she found out about me, she offered to monitor my conditions as a favor."

"What was that about a science fair?"

"Showcasing a project. Don't pry, Charlie."

Peter led the way to the tram station, pointedly avoiding my eyes behind a datapad.

"I thought you told Mom you were through with being a medical curiosity a few years ago," I said suddenly. "Why'd you tell Helen about it?"

Peter stiffened, and I could tell he was uncomfortable. That made sense. Peter was born prematurely, almost stillborn, and he had to use a respiratory unit for the first year of his life. For a while, he'd been under the care of a team of congenital pediatricians to help stabilize his condition, and our insurance hadn't managed to cover all the corrective Healing they'd had to do. After that, Peter had seemed normal at first, but as he grew older, his differences became obvious. He stopped physically growing around five or six years old, at which point the doctors said he would never reach puberty. Then there were the seizures, which came almost randomly every day. Still, he was fortunate, in a way. His conditions didn't seem to inhibit his Sonic abilities, and he also had his abnormal intelligence, a side effect of his developmental problems.

It was the intelligence that made the doctors swarm all over him, and it was the doctors that made Peter decide that he didn't particularly enjoy the company of other people.

Peter shrugged, and when he spoke, he sounded a little defensive.

"Helen's one of the best of the Institute and a Kinetic Healer to boot. After my first checkup, she was able to synthesize a nerve toxin to combat my seizures. Gets me through the day without any incidents, which is more than what the last doctor did for me."

"If she's really that good, why didn't she go to one of the Career schools?" I asked.

"The Career schools?" Peter asked, frowning. "Where they teach kids how to become warriors?"

I shrugged. The term "Career schools" applied to a set of ten elitist Academies renown for their advanced Kinetic courses. Their standards for admission were rigorous, testing applicants based on strength, skill, and endurance, but throughout Kingsfield, their graduates were famous for leading the nation through the centuries. Of course, because the Academies denied access to all aliens, only Kinetics could be accepted, but their reputation was still one to be admired.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "Those."

Peter shook his head, grinning.

"Charlie, people come here for the cutting edge research. She never would have gotten that at some Academy. Some people have dreams that go beyond learning how to use their Kinetic abilities to fight."