Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga (35 page)

Spindle’s faceplate was blank. His red
eyelight darkened. He had no weapons. He didn’t need them. He bent
at the knees, touched his fingers on the ground, crouching like a
tiger. I touched the evolvers at my belt.

Do not let feelings obscure the truth.

See clearly.

See what is, not what you want.

Why does that fucker speak in riddles?

Spindle sprang to the other wall, puncturing
the stone with his fingers, gripping it like a cat on a tree.
Pebbles trickled down. Pressure was inside my skull. Defeat my
friend.

“
It is not your enemy you fight, but your
thoughts.”
Pon’s voice was in my head. “
That is the
training.”

Dust obscured my vision. Spindle’s dark
eyelight pierced the cloud. Pressure built within me, culminating
in my chest. I clutched my weapons, braced for impact.

Spindle would have to die.

T R A I N I N G

Dead battery

“You want a drink?” The kid holds his
father’s hand, sucks on the straw.

They walk across the parking lot, leave me
on the curb. When the kid turns around, his face is blank. It has a
black eyelight.

My chest is tight.

The parking lot is gone. The kid and his
father, too. I am pinned against a rock, sand grinding into my
shoulder. Spindle is over me, his eyelight black. His fingertips
are slowly piercing the bubble shield surrounding me, aiming at my
chest.

“Where’s Chute?” The kid is back, holding
his father’s hand. They’re behind Spindle.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Um, where am I?”

“You want a drink?”

He points the straw at me.

Spindle hovers over me, pushing his fingers
closer. Slowly, slowly they creep toward my heart.
This is a
test. It is only a test. Fail and you die
.

The eyelight is dark.

Pressure.

Ice rattles in a cup. The kid and his father
are halfway across the desert now. He’s sucking on the straw. I
hear him as if he’s three feet away.
You want a drink?

I just, ah… where’re you going?

Spindle’s face flashes, his fingers an inch
away. My chest inflates. Something wants out.

The kid tugs on his father’s hand, tries to
pull him back, reaches the cup toward me. His father looks down.
It’ll be all right, son.

But he wants a drink.

The father turns. But it’s not the kid’s
father holding his hand. It’s
my
father.
It’ll be all
right.

I reach but they are too far.
Wait, wait!
Don’t go. I… I need a drink.

Black eyelight.

An eruption. Something gets out.

Spindle is crumpled against a boulder, its
surface indented with the force of his body. The boulders, sand and
sky disappear into the ground. I’m in a white room. Spindle
sprawled on the floor.

Eyelight out.

I screamed.

“You’re dreaming, Socket.” Mother placed her
hand on my arm.

I was in a bed. The room was warm and
spacious. The only furniture was the bed I was sitting on and the
chair Mother stood by. Several monitors blipped near the bed. A
wide window, across the room, covered the entire wall and
overlooked green mountains in the distance. The view cast a glow
through the dimly lit room.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“You’re in the infirmary.”

My left arm tingled where skin was scuffed
away. There was a fight. Spindle’s fingers. Sand.
Was that
yesterday?

“You were in the pre-Trial exercise two days
ago,” she said. “But you exhausted your energy levels and slipped
into a short coma.”

“I don’t remember timeslicing. How could I
exhaust myself?”

“There were some… unexpected reactions.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to say until we get a full
analysis. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Did I pass?”

She nodded, then took a note tablet and some
recording gear off the nightstand and put them in her
briefcase.

“Why am I dressed in street clothes?” I
asked.

“We’re going home.”

“Home? I was just… wait.” I looked around.
“Where’s Spindle?”

She finished packing, stood straight and
pushed her hair behind her ear. She blew out her breath, as if it
was stale and tired. She tried that fake reassuring smile but
didn’t even have the strength to do that. “He’s being attended
to.”

“Is he all right? I didn’t… he’s not hurt,
is he?”

“He’ll be good as new, Socket, but he’ll
need some maintenance before he’s activated again.”

He was slumped against the boulder. There
was an indention in the stone, as if he’d been shot from a cannon.
No eyelight. He had me beat. He was inches from ending the
exercise, but somehow I threw him off. That part was blank. But I
saw him, motionless. Lifeless.

“Pon made me do it.”

“It’s part of training. Spindle will be
fine, trust me.” She stroked my arm reassuringly. “Now, can you
swing your legs off the bed? I don’t want you to stand just yet,
just let your feet touch the floor.”

I just woke up and she was rushing me out
the door. Why didn’t they just wheel me out to the car while I was
comatose?
Maybe that’s what she was getting ready to do.

My feet were cold, tingling with pins and
needles. The floor hurt. Mother clutched my arm to slow me down,
making sure I didn’t try to the stand. My weight ached in my shins.
I was already breathing hard. The room was getting darker.

“Sit there a second.” She touched her nojakk
cheek. “I need three servys in infirmary 204 with a floater as soon
as possible.
”
Then she muttered to herself. “Where the hell
are they
?”

“He cannot leave the premises.” Pon stood
against the wall.
Was he there the entire time?

“I don’t need your permission,” Mother
said.

“He is my cadet. He will stay.”

“He’s depleted, Pon! You can read the
diagnosis yourself. He needs rest.”

Pon stood resolute, hands clamped behind his
back. “He needs to focus.”

“HE NEEDS REST, GODDAMNIT!” Mother slammed
the nightstand, knocking a cup to the floor. “He has barely slept
in the past month. He has logged more training hours than any other
cadet. He cannot continue at this rate and I think the result of
the last exercise is proof enough!”

“The Realization Trial is too close. He must
not lose focus. I insist he remain under my tutelage.”

“Your tutelage? You have destroyed more
cadets than any trainer in the Paladin Nation. You have wasted so
much talent with your relentless antics. You cannot grind them
down, Pon. They have to recoup.”

They were the same height – Mother was twice
as fiery – but Pon could break her with a thought. I eased more
weight onto my feet but even the slightest movement made my head
spin.

“Cadets that survive my training are the
best the Nation has to offer,” Pon said, simply and softly.

“Survive?” Mother said. “The lucky ones
survive. Socket isn’t going to become one of your
unlucky
ones, he’s coming home. Step aside.”

Pon considered her demand, then slowly
walked over to the window.

Mother tapped her cheek. “Where are my
goddamn servys?”

“These circumstances are quite unusual,” Pon
said. “A cadet’s mother making demands of his trainer.”

“I’m acting as a responsible member of the
Paladin Nation, whether he’s my son or not. Set your ego aside and
look at the cadet sitting on the bed. He cannot stand. He is of no
use to the Nation if he’s broken.”

“Home will not help him.”

“Well, then consider it a vacation.”

“I will not tolerate these demands!” Pon
shook the walls with a psychic burst. “You will not interfere with
my training.
He will remain.
”

The lights dimmed, but it wasn’t my clouded
perception. Pon sucked the energy from the room. The atmosphere
became dense and grainy. I never saw a single loose thought in
Pon’s mind, but I could tell that he hated dealing with Mother. He
didn’t like her interfering with his student. And he
never
spoke with his teeth grinding.

[Always respond, Pon. Never react.]

He flicked his eyes at me, saw the thought I
projected. Calm settled around him. Deadly, but calm.

Mother shook her head, pushed her short hair
behind her ear, and stood in front of me. Pon would have to go
through her. But we weren’t leaving, either. They stared, daring
the other to blink. Mother would eventually wear down under Pon’s
gaze, but until then, stalemate.

I bowed my head to ease the nausea swirling
in my empty stomach. The pins and needles had faded from my feet,
but my knees were too weak to hold me. I was going to puke if the
room kept circling. I didn’t have time for their game of Chicken. I
needed to feel better, and I didn’t care where. Just sitting up was
sapping what little strength I had.

The air lightened. A heavy, callused hand
squeezed my shoulder. “How are you feeling, son?”

Son.
The word chilled inside me, but
it was the Commander’s hand. His eyes were decisive, but gentle. He
rustled my hair, then read the monitors, taking his time at each
one. He wasn’t seeing anything new, but studied them
nonetheless.

“Your vitals are good,” he said. “You’re in
fine shape, although I’m sure you feel otherwise.”

“I’ve never felt this weak.”

“You were very close to complete
depletion.”

Depletion was like a dead battery. Emphasis
on dead
.
“I don’t remember much.”

“Your mind is coping with stress. The
memories will come back, although for now it’s important that you
rest.”

“But what happened?”

The Commander turned to my mother. She
returned his knowing look. Pon had not moved. The secret passed
between them, unspoken. The Commander rubbed the corners of his
mouth. “We’re not sure.”

Did the icy voice come back?
I was
careful to hide that thought from them, but one day I would slip.
One day, they would see my doubts. My imperfection. I couldn’t hide
forever.

The Commander walked to the window and
watched clouds cast shadows over the green mountains. Pon stood
soldier-still next to him, eyes ahead.

“Your Realization Trial is near.” The
Commander spoke while gazing out the window. “However, recent
events have cast doubt on the exact date. Pike will be relocated in
the next few days and his whereabouts need to remain undisclosed. I
will need Pon’s service during this time.”

Pon did not respond.

“There is also the matter of analyzing this
pre-Trial exercise. We need time to fully understand the events
before moving ahead with your training. More importantly, I need
you to be fully recovered. I would rather sacrifice a week of
training than to have you less than one hundred percent. The
Realization Trial is too important. While you have so much
potential, I have my doubts the Paladin Nation will show leniency
if you do not pass. There are still those that doubt your
stability.”

Shit.

The Commander’s gaze followed a hawk
circling the trees. It folded its wings and dove out of sight,
returning to the sky with something flailing in its talons.

He was not one of those doubters. If he was,
I wouldn’t be here, count on that. He was a fair man, but not a
fool. If he suspected instability, I’d be done. He knew there were
Paladins that doubted my father because he altered his own genetic
code to give himself Paladin abilities. But his powers failed to
stabilize.
And like father, like son.

The Commander faced the room.

“I’m sending you home, Socket. A week in
your own house will facilitate your recuperation, after which you
can return to the Garrison. There will be no more discussion on
this matter.”

Mother slung her briefcase over her
shoulder, lifted her chin.
Game over.
Three servys floated
into the room with a hovering chair. They parked next to my bed.
Pon’s expression did not change, but I could feel his agitation.
I don’t care how you feel
,
Pon.

“I expect you back in a week,” the Commander
said. “You mean so much to the Paladin Nation’s future, we cannot
afford to fail.”

The Commander paused. I nodded back, not
sure if I should thank him.

“Kay, I’d like to see you before you
depart,” he said. “Pon, if you’ll follow me to my office.”

The Commander exited the room. Pon was
rigid. He aimed a glare at Mother. She sensed it and returned one
of her own, but it was her cheeks that paled, not his.

I jumped from the bed. The room wobbled. The
timeslicing spark ached to be clutched, but was barely able to
glitter in my belly. My knees gave way and I collapsed onto the
floater chair. The servys’ rubbery arms helped me sit up. I panted,
could hardly lift my hand
.

Pon pursed his lips and blinked slowly. He
accepted the decision. And with a slight nod, a warm wave of energy
surged through me, vibrating through the pain, easing the aches. I
stopped quivering.

Before I could nod back, before I could
acknowledge his healing gift, Pon followed the Commander. Mother
took a moment to compose herself. I floated out of the room on the
chair, following the servys. Mother was behind me.

I waited in the car, looking through the
clear roof at the parking garage cave and the natural stalactites
pointing down like accusing fingers.
You are the chosen.

Pon was right. I couldn’t go home. At least
not the home I wanted. There was a house in South Carolina. There
was a bed in that house I slept in and a backyard I played in, but
that wasn’t home anymore. Home didn’t exist, not one where I
returned from school and lounged in front of the television. A home
where I stayed up all night in virtualmode battles and we sat
around talking about what we were going to do when we grew up. A
time and a place where anything was possible. I was searching for
that sort of home.