The Quest (27 page)

I tapped my finger on the section for names and typed in “Cindy Gifford.” A list of names popped up. There were Cindys and Cynthias of different family names, but no Giffords. I found a Cynthia Anderson, though.

“Anderson?” I asked Ed Regis. “I distinctly remember telling you her real name.”

He shrugged. “It hasn’t been updated yet.”

“In three years?” I said, touching the name on the screen.

Four images of Cindy appeared on the screen, followed by a long section of text. The first of the photos was a mug shot, probably Cindy’s old driver’s license, and the other three were taken at odd angles through telephoto lenses. None of the photos did any justice to the Cindy I knew. I scrolled down the text and discovered that the Wolves had updated the file in bits and pieces.

FILE ID:
Cynthia Anderson.
ALIASES:
Cynthia or Cindy Gifford; Silver (Guardian call sign).
AFFILIATIONS:
Guardian 1-A, under Baker, Travis.
KNOWN POWERS:
Hider, Finder.
SUSPECTED POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED EMERGENTS:
None or Unknown.
CURRENT STATUS:
Unknown.

A detailed physical description followed, including everything from eye color to shoe size, but there was no mention of how comforting her smile was. Then there was a list of relatives, many of whom had either been killed or had mysteriously disappeared. Apparently the families of wild-borns were all alike in that way.

Following the bloodline information were a bunch of addresses and telephone numbers, including Cindy’s old home address, Mark Parnell’s old house, and Cindy’s last known place of residence, the fortieth-floor penthouse of Hew Haven’s NH-1, though of course the database had the actual city name and address. Cindy’s file also contained a short history of her time as a Guardian under the last queen, Diana Granados, as well as her disappearance and subsequent reappearance in New Haven. The file noted Cindy’s unique position with New Haven’s government and touched on her near-abduction by the Angels. At the very end, there was a list of links to closely related people, including Mr. Baker, Mark Parnell, Alia, Terry and myself. But regarding Cindy’s current location, the Wolves knew no more than anyone else. There was no information regarding where she might have gone following the fall of New Haven.

Looking down at the list of links to related files, I lightly tapped on my own name, and the screen changed again.

There were two photos attached to my database entry. One was a mug shot, probably from my elementary school file when I was about ten years old. The other was an unflattering photo of me lying half-naked and unconscious on a hospital bed, and I suspected that it had been taken en route to the Psionic Research Center.

FILE ID:
Adrian Howell.
ALIASES:
Adrian Gifford; Addie(?); P-47 (at PRC Site-A).
AFFILIATIONS:
Guardian 1-A, under Baker, Travis.
KNOWN POWERS:
Telekinetic.
SUSPECTED POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED EMERGENTS:
None or Unknown.
CURRENT STATUS:
Deceased.

“Deceased,” I read aloud. “You mean I’m dead?”

Ed Regis chuckled. “That entry is probably false. There’s been a lot of confusion recently.”

I skimmed through the rest of the text, and I was pleased to find that my physical description didn’t include my missing right ear or disparately colored eyes. Nor did the Wolves know my call sign, Hansel. In fact, there was no mention at all of me being a Guardian Knight. I was a bit surprised to find “Addie” there, though. How many people knew what Alia called me when she so rarely spoke with her mouth? Dr. Kellogg had known, of course, so perhaps it had been included in his monthly reports to the surface.

“What does ‘suspected emergents’ mean?” I asked.

Ed Regis explained, “Based on family histories, we tag people who might develop psionic powers in the future.”

“I see,” I said, nodding. Most psionic powers were hereditary. The children of telekinetics were often telekinetic too.

“And what is ‘unknown’?” I asked. Cindy’s suspected emergents had included that too.

“That’s a common tag for wild-borns. It simply means we can’t predict what powers will develop because we can’t trace the family history.”

My annoyance with Ed Regis’s helpfulness was reaching its boiling point.

I decided to test him, asking, “If I was at PRC Site-A, would it stand to reason that there is a Site-B out there somewhere?”

“It would, and there is,” said Ed Regis. “But I can’t tell you where it’s located.”

“Why not?” I asked harshly.

“We’re just hunters, Adrian. We don’t deliver the psionics ourselves.”

“Some help you are.”

“I am sorry.”

I slapped the device closed and thrust it back into Ed Regis’s hands. “Write the password onto the back with a marker and leave it where I’ll find it later.”

“As you wish,” he replied calmly, but I was already walking briskly back toward the stairs.

How I wished I had at least punched him once when I could!

Chapter 12: Leaving Walnut Lane

That evening, Scott and Candace helped me cook up an extra-special multi-course feast to celebrate our new alliance with Ed Regis and his Wolf pack. And no, I didn’t spit in their soup, though I admit that I was sorely tempted.

It was also a thank-you meal for the parents of Alia’s students. Alia was heartbroken to learn that she wouldn’t even be able to say goodbye to her kiddie-combat class, but she wrote a long message for the parents to read to them at the mountain camp.

It wasn’t easy, but we managed to squeeze everyone into the dining room. Alia had finished healing Walter’s broken arm, the hole in Heather’s foot, and Rachael’s burns. Rachael was left with permanent scars on her neck, but at least her hair would grow back.

We hadn’t forgotten our two casualties, for which there would be no proper funeral or burial. Max and Felicity’s bodies would eventually be taken to the mountain camp and placed in unmarked graves. For the time being, they were quietly moved to a local morgue to be kept in cold storage.

Terry led the toast, saying, “To absent, brave friends.”

Earlier that morning, Merlin had discovered a large stash of cash at the Angel outpost, so in addition to soldiers, we now had more than enough money to make the journey to the Historian’s mountain. Terry broke that news over dinner too, and predictably, Scott and the others insisted upon accompanying us on our journey.

“Oh, no you don’t,” said Terry. “You guys have a more important mission. You’re going to help repay our debt to Mrs. Harding and the Walnut Guardians. You’re all trained Knights now, and I expect you to act like it. I will, however, choose one of you to join us at your own peril.”

“Who gets to go?” asked Scott, who probably thought it was himself.

Terry smiled. “I will speak privately with this person so that there is no pressure to accept. But it’s not you, Scott. I need you to lead this rabble, and make sure Susan is okay.”

Poor Susan had parted with Felicity in anger. Now she would be reunited in grief. I didn’t envy the messenger, and I was almost glad that I wasn’t going up to the mountain camp.

After dinner cleanup, I went up to my room where I found Ed Regis’s database leaning against the door with a little note stuck to it that read, “I disabled the security completely and recharged the battery. Hope you find something useful. – Ed”

Entering the room, I noticed that someone had attached a blue plastic sheet over our broken window. The glass probably wouldn’t get replaced since the house was soon going to be abandoned anyway, but at least the plastic sheet would keep the wind and insects out.

It was still not much past 8pm, and the light was on, but Alia was already curled up on her side of our bed, fast asleep. That was hardly surprising considering how she had spent the previous night and this afternoon healing one person after another. Unlike her telepathy, which was second nature to her, healing was always taxing on her physical strength.

I quietly plopped the database onto the bed and turned to James, who had been lying on his cot reading a magazine. “You up for another adventure?” I asked.

James looked stunned. “It’s me?”

I nodded. “Terry believes in you. So do I. But it’s got to be your own choice. Where we’re going next, it’s unlikely we’ll come through without losing a few.”

James slowly gulped once and then nodded. “Count me in.”

“Good man,” I said.

“Um, I think I’m going to go take a walk outside.”

Watching him leave, I called out behind him, “Take your time.”

Then I sat down on the bed carefully so as not to wake Alia. Resting my back against the headboard, I opened the database.

Who would I look up this time? I touched the screen to activate the search field for names, and carefully typed in the one that was heaviest on my mind.

FILE ID:
Randal Divine.
ALIASES:
Flash (Angel call sign).
AFFILIATIONS:
Angel, under Divine, Randal.
KNOWN POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED POWERS:
Finder, Master Controller.
SUSPECTED EMERGENTS:
Spark, Delver, Mind-writer.
CURRENT STATUS:
Unknown.

I found it slightly amusing that the Wolves had updated the bit about Randal Divine being the new leader of the Angels but then forgotten to move “master controller” to the “known powers” slot. There were probably thousands of entries in this little device, and I wondered how much outdated information it contained.

Reading Randal’s file further, I learned that the former-queen’s nephew had been inching his way up the Angels’ ranks through a combination of skill and name. He had been bitter enemies with Riley O’Neal, which explained why he thanked me for killing Riles. Randal’s file contained a fairly extensive list of previous sightings, but that was back when he led the Seraphim in battle. Ever since declaring himself king, Randal Divine had turned into a ghost.

One of the names on the “related files” list at the bottom caught my eye. I touched it and the screen changed.

FILE ID:
Catherine Howell.
ALIASES:
Cathy Divine.
AFFILIATIONS:
Angel, under Divine, Randal.
KNOWN POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED EMERGENTS:
Telekinetic or Unknown.
CURRENT STATUS:
In care of Randal Divine.

Like mine, Cat’s mug shot was probably also taken from her old school file. I noticed that she was wearing the amethyst pendant our uncle had sent her on her eighth birthday. There was nothing in her personal history that I didn’t know already, and the Wolves had no information about what happened to her after she was taken by the Angels.

New search.

FILE ID:
Alia Gifford.
ALIASES:
Alia Anderson(?); P-46 (at PRC Site-A).
AFFILIATIONS:
Guardian 1-A, under Baker, Travis.
KNOWN POWERS:
Healer, Telepath.
SUSPECTED POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED EMERGENTS:
None or Unknown.
CURRENT STATUS:
Committed to PRC Site-A.

Here was another file that needed updating. Apparently my sister was in two places at once, and neither of them existed anymore.

The only photo on the file showed a bruised and terrified Alia, her wrists and ankles bound by iron chains. She was sitting inside what appeared to be a cargo plane. Alia had been awake when we were transported to the PRC, and if it hadn’t been for her memory of the upper floors, we might not have made it out alive. Seeing the battered Alia in the photo made me shudder, and I quickly returned to the search screen.

I glanced over at the real Alia, who had wrapped her arms around her pillow and was holding it tightly to her chest as she mumbled incoherently into my head.

Using psionic powers during sleep was common to child psionics, and Alia still spoke telepathically almost every night. Back in New Haven, I used to wake up hovering several times a month, usually resulting in painful crash-landings and mild bruises when I woke. I realized that I hadn’t sleep-hovered in many months now, and thought happily that perhaps I was finally becoming an adult. It was about time.

I looked at the database again and typed in another search.

FILE ID:
Teresa Henderson.
ALIASES:
Terrie or Terry(?) Holloway; Rabbit (Guardian call sign).
AFFILIATIONS:
Unknown. Previously Guardian 1-A, under Baker, Travis.
KNOWN POWERS:
None.
SUSPECTED POWERS:
Light-foot, Graviton.
SUSPECTED EMERGENTS:
Windmaster, Peacemaker, Finder, Berserker.
CURRENT STATUS:
Unknown.

This was an interesting one. The Wolves didn’t have a photo of Terry after I had hacked off her left arm, but her handicap was noted in her physical description. They had properly updated her file to show that she had escaped New Haven, but they also suspected her of already being a psionic, which was utterly wrong. Perhaps the Wolves simply couldn’t believe that a one-armed teenage girl could fight as well as Terry could without having psionic powers.

Her file also claimed that Terry had some berserker in her blood. Had one of her parents been a berserker?

Suddenly I felt horribly ashamed of myself for reading up on Terry like this. It was like I was peeking at her school report card, but worse. Terry probably would have agreed had I asked, but nevertheless I should have obtained her permission before doing this.

I had been toying with the idea of looking up Laila Brown next, hoping I might find a nice photo of her, but decided against it.

I was about to shut the database off when I realized that there was just one more person I had to look up before I put this amazing little toy away: Nightmare, the mystery psionic who had turned the entire Psionic Research Center into a swirling muddy hole in the ground. In a way, he had saved Alia and me from being killed by Dr. Denman, and I wanted to know who he was.