The switch on my automatic kettle flicked off, and I listlessly stirred from my butt-groove on the couch to pour myself a cup of tea. I'd been sequestered for days while the entire building was recovering from the shock of the fluke invasion. Galen was tight-lipped about any details while I was moved into another room on a different floor. Then, he disappeared into the investigation.
I'd somehow forgotten about the smartwatch I'd shoved in my pajamas until I tried climb into bed after being sent back to my room.
When the curvilinear metal dug into my hipbone, I fished it out of my pocket to store it in a more secure location (the tampon box in my medicine cabinet, where no man dared go.) Since I didn't have the thumbprint needed to access the device, and I didn't feel like handing it over to Galen (on account of him being a royal wang lately), I opted to hold on to it for safekeeping.
My mother had been calling non-stop to check on me, but not even Varun's fancy-pants lawyers could finagle a way to get me out (or them in) while everyone went into lock-down. It was as if those brawny ninjas broke into Fort Knox or something. Whatever they were here to do, I'd foiled at least some part of their mission, and yet, I was being punished for it.
I knew the ninjas had been in the Scion lab, I'd seen their super-spandex bodysuits that deflected the electricity rippling over my skin, and I'd held one of their overtly phallic guns, which inflicted similar damage as one of my lightning bolts. The attack felt deeply personal in a way I couldn't explain or understand, but no one would tell me anything.
I brought my nose to the rim of the herbal steam curling up from my chipped Garfield mug.
Galen's medics confirmed that my ribs were cracked during my unofficial MMA match, but my accelerated healing was already stitching things back together by the time they bandaged me up. At any rate, it was much easier to take a grateful sniff. The water was too hot to drink, but the vapors felt cleansing as they warmed my nose and throat with notes of citrus flower.
Much like my sodden tea bag, the longer I was left to stew alone, the deeper and more flavorful my resentment became.
I could blow out of this state-sponsored Popsicle stand anytime I wanted. My cooperation with Project Scion was a public charade to keep the masses happy while protecting my mom and my brother from Hamm. I thought I could keep my family safe playing by the government's rules, but the game was rigged in their favor. It always was.
Galen and his crew of super-scientists had all the benefits of my incredible powers (not to mention unfettered access to my biological material and sunny disposition) yet they didn't have to tell me anything they deemed too classified. And yet, I was being treated like a hostile witness.
I clearly wasn't going to be afforded any basic human rights because they didn't see me as one of them. I was like all the other threats they dealt with, a piece of property to potentially acquire or exploit. If it weren't for my mom's tireless efforts (and Varun's bottomless pockets), I'd probably be visiting my family from behind plate glass or eating checkers in some remote booby hatch until they decided to cut me open.
My resentment was clouding my ability to think straight. All I wanted was a simple answer. Who was C.E. and what were they after in the Scion lab?
Just about the only thing Galen had bothered to explain (at great lengths) was what the government would do if I stepped out of the careful lines they'd drawn (again.)
I desperately missed Mac's no-nonsense attitude. He always had a way of cutting through the crap to help me focus. The thought left me choking on the remorse of my friend's (possible) death and no closer to the truth.
I took a cautious sip of my drink, gazing out the rain-streaked glass to the soggy streets below. It was another gloomy afternoon, the kind that made you want to curl up near a crackling fireplace and get lost in a good book. I was counting the number of black umbrellas scuttling through the downpour on the sidewalks when a light rapping interrupted.
Galen unlatched the door and silently strode over to the kitchenette table like a fence post had been shoved up his keister.
"You're going home for dinner tonight," he announced, keeping his business short. "Get dressed."
Unfolding from my window seat, I made my way over to the squat pine dresser next to my bed. I retreated to the cramped bathroom to change and run a brush through my hair while stuffing the smartwatch into my shoe. When I emerged, Galen grunted and turned to hold the door for me. Tilting my chin to the ceiling, I marched along behind him.
"You know, I watched the footage of you fighting," Galen remarked over his shoulder. "You're pretty good, for no tactical training."
"What a weird, backhanded compliment," I replied, shifting to keep my contraband nestled under the arch of my foot. I was going to hide the smartwatch at my mom's house until I could figure out what to do with it. "Did you find that hostage?"
Galen gritted his teeth but didn't answer.
"Hello?" I challenged. "Did you hear me?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that," Galen replied, stone-faced and eyes akimbo.
I shrugged, thinking back to the camel-colored suit I'd seen take off like a bat out of hell. Galen twisted his mouth into a frown but didn't say a word as he punched the button for an elevator.
I counted as his fingers went back to his pockets, twenty-fifth row up, the second button from the left.
"If you happen to find the old Galen during this investigation, would you tell him to come back?" I sniffed haughtily. "Neo-fascist Galen sucks."
"That's who you get when you flagrantly disregard our agreement," Galen volleyed, glaring at me. "If you'd have stayed in your room, like you were told-"
"Then you wouldn't know they had a hostage!" I snapped at his wide back as we filed into the elevator. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Yes," Galen turned to give me an angry stare. "I forgot to thank you, didn't I? Because of you, my bosses don't think I have what it takes to run this project. Because of your actions, they now have reason to believe that you need to be under stricter supervision than I can provide. In fact, I might get fired. So, thank you very much, Ella. You've helped me out a lot."
"You're welcome," I stammered through the daze of getting hit with that information.
"Of course!" He exploded, throwing his hands up like an angry fishwife. "You never think about the consequences of your actions, do you?"
That little dig cut far deeper than I should have allowed, burrowing under my skin to fester.
"Well, I thought about it," I admitted. "But I figured the consequences couldn't be as bad as what that gas was doing to the people who didn't have masks."
"Tell me again, how does hand-to-hand combat with hostiles help anyone?" He lashed out, ready for any excuse. "How does blowing up an elevator and nearly setting an entire floor on fire help, at all?"
"Those night-ninjas were attacking the building and I couldn't get ahold of anyone!" I exclaimed indignantly. "I was trying to get outside and get help."
"Oh, so you were trying to be a hero?" Galen narrowed his eyes. "You know what gets good men killed in the field? Idiots without the sense to follow orders, the same idiots who go off on their own trying to be a hero. Glory will get you, and others, killed. Your orders were clear. We have procedures in place for this, and we don't need a Scion going rogue and making things worse."
I clamped my mouth shut so hard Galen heard the sound of my molars colliding. The elevator began its gradual deceleration as we coasted toward the ground level.
"What happened?" He continued. "You all out of smart ass remarks?"
"I've got plenty," I flattened my tone. "I'm saving them for your replacement."
"Sick burn," Galen smirked, walking out of the elevator into the wood-paneled hallway of the ground floor.
The scuffles of our shoes on the linoleum echoed lightly up the empty corridor. We were alone, save the security guards at the back door. I knew only one of them by his face, but he was too scared to make eye contact as we strolled by the desk. Near their dour expressions were two circular puncture holes in the paneling. The singed rings in the fractured wood grain were large enough to be (really big) bullets.
Galen shoved the door open and led the way toward a black car waiting for us at the curb.
"Galen, who was on duty the night of the attack?" I asked as we piled inside.
"James and a man named Christopher," he muttered grimly into his balled-up fist. "Christopher is in an induced coma from sustained injuries. James didn't make it."
I nodded, too numb to actually reply. I didn't know James well, or Christopher for that matter, but he didn't deserve to be murdered in cold blood. He was a nice man in the right place at the wrong time. Those bad guys were after something in the Scion lab, which ultimately made this at least partially my fault.
Rain pelted the windows of the car like it was trying to get inside while the radio droned a pointless pop-song about being your own hero (until your prince charming showed up to sweep you off your feet.) It was a long drive to my mom's house and the closer we got to Washington DC, the more congested the waterlogged roads became.
"I almost forgot," Galen said, glancing up at me while reaching into a concealed pocket of his jacket. "This is for you."
He pulled out a slender circular band made of matte black material and unhitched it from the top.
"Varun had it shipped in. My bosses approved it because you melted the only three-million-dollar piece of tracking equipment we had." He went on, though his inflection shifted at the mention of Varun. "It's a bracelet. The same basic principle as your anklet, but a lot more expensive."
"Whatever," I stuck out my hand for him to slip it on.
The thing barely fit over my bird-like bones and when Galen touched the clasp, it snapped tight around the circumference of my slender wrist. Tiny pinpricks lit up my nerves and I screeched.
"Yeow!" I yelped, grasping my new accessory to try and twist if off with more than painful results. "What is this hellfire?"
"Varun said this model tethers to its host," Galen replied, watching my reaction in subdued shock.
"By burning off the top five layers of my epidermis?" I sputtered still fiddling with it. "Mother of dragons, this really, really smarts!"
The bracelet wouldn't budge like it was fused to my skin.
"Ask your soon-to-be-step-daddy, he built it," Galen remarked, taking his phone out of his pocket to tap on the screen. "You get the pleasure of dinner with him tonight, and tomorrow you're having movie night, apparently."
"Lucky me," I clicked my tongue of the roof of my mouth. "If you still have a job tomorrow, I'll let you know what he says."
"You do that," Galen's head was down, mumbling into his screen while using his thumb to aggressively scroll through his phone.
We remained silent to tolerate each other's presence for the rest of the ride.
Thank you so much for reading, you're amazing!