Ascension (25 page)

The Senator rose from her seat, and foraged about within a handbag laid down at her side.

“So it begins…,” she sighed upon retrieving her cell phone. “I have so many missed calls.”

“The organisation would benefit from having you here indefinitely,” said Walter. “After all, you and I are all that remain of the
Projects'
first generation.”

“And discard my role and duty to the voting public?” The Senator questioned, shaking her head. “If I remember correctly, Kishar and I were never the most adept at battling the Corrupted in the first place. Our skills have always been better suited to the political arena. Besides, who else can sustain the support of the
board
?”

“If it is true that Namtar has indeed returned…,” Monica responded, gravely. “Soon we may not even have a
Project
left that warrants its support.”

Chapter 20

“What's on your mind?” Monica asked, applying a dressing to the wound on Katherine's head.

“I'm just thinking back to when I was younger,” she replied, as she sat on the infirmary table.

As a ten year old, she remembered feeling as if she knew everything and could not put a foot wrong. She was a stubborn child, as her father and most of her teachers had often attested. Her father would often ramble on about how he'd tell her to do one thing, and she'd go off and do the exact opposite.

“When I was a ten year old, do you remember that Veteran's day assignment you set us? Katherine asked.”

Monica smiled. “Now that you mention it, I remember it all as if it were yesterday. November had begun, and with Veteran's day drawing nearer, I had seen it as appropriate to set the class an assignment. But what I remember most was your presentation; it truly was one of your very best efforts.”

“I really was a stubborn child though, wasn't I?” She questioned, absorbed deep in thought.

Monica laughed. “I do remember, even with just that assignment, thinking that you'd try to avoid doing any work on it from the outset. So when my suspicions proved they might be correct, I thought about how to suggest an idea to you, that you'd adopt in the belief that it was your own.”

“Yeah, I actually remember you recommending that I go and ask my father about his experiences as a veteran,” she said. “And when I got home that afternoon, I sat on the couch with his old photo album in front of me.”

She could see herself back then, sitting there and barely looking at the photos, or being bothered to read the many descriptions that lay beneath each of them. But she also remembered that it wasn't the assignment itself which had her interested. There was something else she wanted to know, and she thought this could serve as the best excuse to bring it up with her father. She could see him now; lumbering into the lounge, and finding her seated before the album. The look on his face had been something she'd never forgotten.

“That assignment was tough,” Katherine said. “He never liked to talk about his time in the military, or as I now know it to be the
Project
, and he'd often change the subject.”

“So how did you get him to respond?” Monica asked. “If my memory serves me right, you were quite thorough with your presentation, too well informed to just make it all up.”

“It wasn't easy,” she admitted. “But I figured the best way was to ask questions about individual photo's in the album, and then collate all he'd told me about each into one report.”

She knew Monica had expected her to find out about her father and his time in the military, and that is what she ended up presenting. She remembered her father's surprise when he first found her seated there, his excitement as he'd talked about his experiences with his old regiment, and his telling her the story behind each and every photograph.

We should never forget our past. The reason I first enlisted is as important to me today as it was back then: to protect those dearest to me.
This thing he'd said had resonated with her now more than ever before.

But she had another purpose in mind for this assignment; she intended to learn more about her late mother. She asked him why her mother wasn't in any of the pictures. Much to her surprise, he had shuffled to the back of the album, parting a photograph from its last page and showing her what was beneath. When he held up the photo, she saw a picture of her late mother; Captain Elizabeth Munroe, dressed in full service attire, and with her name embossed below the photograph.

The look on my father's face and what he'd said when he showed me the picture
, she mused. Never before had she seen her father so solemn and so close to tears.

This is the only photograph I have of her in military attire,
he'd said, and then the words that followed were those she'd never forget.

I barely look at it anymore,
he had said to her
. I want to remember her as she was; not in the service, but as my wife.

“Katherine, you okay?” Monica asked, concerned. “You seemed to have dozed off for a second. I've finished dressing your wound; I suggest you go get some sleep.”

“I will, thanks for looking after me,” she replied, as she hopped down from the infirmary bench and headed for bed.

Having trundled along the corridor, she opened her bedroom door and grasped about the wall in search of a light switch. Once she'd triggered the lights and stepped inside, she wondered where her guardian was, for she hadn't seen him since they'd returned from their mission.

“I hope he is alright,” she murmured to herself, thinking back to how despondent he'd appeared since Blake and Kulullu had defeated the earthen Corrupted.

Deciding to go search for him, she returned to the corridor and walked back toward the training facility's secure doorway.

“What are you still doing up?” She heard Lance question, as the young man trailed up from behind.

“I could ask the same of you,” she said, glancing back and at the dark circles which had formed around his eyes. “Don't you ever sleep?”

Lance yawned. “It's my shift. “Walter believes it necessary that we have an officer patrolling the corridors at all times.”

“That's understandable,” she replied. “But you always seem to be the one on duty…”

“I don't tend to sleep well, so I'm often the first to volunteer…,” he said, rubbing at his neck. “Anyway, you've yet to answer my question; why are you roaming the corridors this late at night?”

“I'm looking for my guardian,” she responded, feeling slightly embarrassed at how silly it must sound to have lost a four hundred pound gryphon. “He seems to have wandered off on his own…”

Lance swiped his card against the doorway's control panel. “He's inside the training facility.”

Once the doors slid open, she found Anzu toward the facility's centre and hard at work. She watched as he charged about the space, slashing at the empty air with his talons as though he were fighting invisible enemies. He soon after ascended upward, beating with tired wings until fatigue rendered him incapable of continuing. Having lost control in flight, she watched her winged guardian plummet and land heavily against the cold facility floor. She rushed to his side.

The gryphon floundered to regain his footing and peered back at her. “You should be asleep young master,” he said, his breathing heavy. “You need your rest.”

“I couldn't sleep.”

“More nightmares?” Anzu questioned, before he returned to training with his talon's raised. “I myself have had many of late.”

“No nightmares,” she replied. “Just more dreams of the past.”

“That is inclined to happen at this point, and will only become more frequent,” he said, clawing at thin air. “A young Indigo's mind is highly active; he or she uses parts of the brain never before relied upon, and this continues even when asleep.”

She could see that his legs were trembling, and he had to toil to even keep upright “You should think about getting some sleep yourself. You're barely able to stand.”

“That's only because I am still too weak,” he responded, raising his wings and beating them through the air with such immense power that it generated a strong burst of wind.

“You're not making any sense,” she replied, listening to the roaring winds he'd produced from his energy.

“I need to press past my own physical limitations, if I'm ever to prove a match for that fiend,” he proclaimed, the winds picking up and tearing at the surface steel of the facility's walls. “I must persevere, even if it kills me!”

Looking back at her guardian, she sensed feelings of deep anguish within him. His mind was in a state of flux; so many different voices were calling to him, expressing resentment over his lack of strength. He saw himself as one incapable of rectifying this weakness. He saw himself as a small, pitiful creature. One who'd sooner cower in the corner and be carried off by a stray wind.

“Anzu…I know how you feel.”

“You couldn't possibly,” he shot back angrily. “I just stood there; I was helpless as she lay dying. I –

“-We have formed a celestial bond; you can also see what I think and feel,” she reminded him, her arms wrapped around his mane of feathers. “How is it any different for me? I could do nothing when those monsters killed my father.”

“I can only hope you will not have to endure your own sense of weakness; for as long as I have, since her death. I have trained and fought for so long, till my talons are worn and blunt – all in the effort to become stronger.”

“You saved my life,” she responded, intent on having him believe her. “If it weren't for your strength, I would not have this chance to save those my father had given his life to protect.”

“To defeat Namtar; to rid the world of the Corrupted…you will need a more powerful guardian by your side –

“-And I will have one in good time,” she quickly to interrupt. “We shall become stronger together.”

“So where do we go from here?” Anzu asked, with a sense of self-belief. “Will we return to our room and get some rest?”

“What is it you think we should do?” She asked him. “We are a team. As I said before, I want to hear no more of this master and guardian nonsense. Both of us must make a decision as one mind.”

“If I'm honest master - Katherine,” he said, stumbling with his words. “I would like to keep training.”

She smiled. “Then let's get started.”

And thus, they trained. Anzu would thrash with his wings and conjure up a strong gust of wind, and she would focus her mind upon igniting the air with her celestial element. Over and over, they persevered late into the night with this same exercise, seeking to perfect their synchronised energies.

Once they both felt more comfortable, they shook things up and developed their own personal training regimen. One exercise Katherine came up with, focusing upon both Katherine's energy control and Anzu's dexterity, was for her to fling pencils telekinetically about the space while Anzu dodged them. Another unorthodox exercise, given their disparity in size and physical strength, was to pit their strength against one another in hand to talon combat. And although she sensed Anzu often holding back so as to not maim her, she believed he did so at his own peril. When she thought back to the countless hours of training both she and her father had undergone, she wasn't exactly easily intimidated by such exercise. Despite the mismatch, with Anzu often knocking her helplessly to the floor, she was convinced her persistence was winning her guardian's respect and admiration.

The pair continued their training into the early hours of morning, but such efforts took a significant toll on their wearying bodies, and they soon collapsed together on the facility's cold floor. She felt as though her muscles and limbs were on fire; she'd never put herself through such mental and physical exertion. In the past, when something became even remotely challenging, she'd be the first to give up. But this time she refused such temptations. She chose to endure the struggle, discarding of all thoughts that were not related to their objective of becoming stronger. This was an exercise in determination; and she was proud of herself, and her guardian.

It is all so strange…, although I've lost most of the feeling in my body, I have never before felt so satisfied,
she thought to herself.

Although her body was exhausted, she still had an insatiable urge to continue beyond her physical capacity. She tried to stand, noticing that Anzu shared the same desire and had followed her lead. They briefly reclaimed their footing and resumed the training regime, but the pair had gone as far as their flesh and blood would allow. The goal was now set; this was just the beginning. For now they needed to rest and regain their strength so they could press forward, and through the barrier of their own limitations in the future.

For the first time this week, Katherine knew sleep would be easy. Soon after she drifted off, her head rested on Anzu's soft furry chest.

Late in the morning, she awoke under a thick blanket. Still half asleep, she peered up. Her gaze met with Monica's warm blue eyes, and shifted to the glass of green liquid she offered.

“Gah, what is it?” Katherine spluttered. It left such a foul taste she thought about vomiting.

Monica laughed. “A cocktail of painkillers. Walter's own recipe. Trust me, you'll need it.”

Monica wasn't kidding. Katherine wriggled out from underneath the blanket. She found herself stagger about uncomfortably, eager for the medicine to hurry and take effect.

“How is Naomi coping?” She asked, worried for her friend, but still trying to shake off the medicine's dreadful taste and itching for it to numb her sore muscles.

“She's fine. We released her from our care.”

Although both Monica and the Senator had assured her that Naomi would recover, and that Kishar's invasion of the mind wasn't likely to cause her any damage, she believed the whole concept of memory manipulation as disconcerting and immoral. Ever since she'd learned about Kishar's unique abilities, she found herself again questioning the
Project's
motives. She had a foreboding feeling she couldn't shake; this inkling that the organisation was hiding something significant from her. She suspected that her mind too had been infiltrated by the small sprite in the past. Then there was high school; surely there must have been others who'd learned too much, or had come too close to putting it together. She wondered how this organisation would go about dealing with these individuals. She figured they may have wiped their minds using Kishar's techniques, seeing as they had no problems with this with Naomi. But maybe there were more cynical and unpleasant schemes at work.