Hello there all!
This has been a wild week. Getting my oldest daughter enrolled for next year in her new school, figuring out all the logistics around school uniforms and stationery lists, and finding a new backpack… Oh my goodness! Why must kids grow up so fast?
But she’s learning to make her own sandwiches and pack her bag herself. Proud momma here.
As for the story…
Previously… Logan attends his first-ever Luke interrogation. It is surprisingly, quite boring until it takes a weird turn, but he did get to meet a pretty girl, so that’s a plus.
INDEX | Chapter 3 | Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scene 4 | Scene 5 | Scene 6 | Scene 7 | Next Scene →
That first interrogation led to another and another and the more we did the further we went from the Estate. Sometimes the PG goons held their prisoners at police stations, for others they fetched us to a hotel room.
None of the other interrogations compared to Grora. Most times Luke's digging was confined completely to the subconscious and in some, where sedation was necessary, the prisoner never even fully came to. None took more than a few hours. There were one or two that struggled a little but the reinforced restraints were more than adequate and as soon as Luke found his way into their heads, it stopped. Afterward, we would have a meeting with the General, during which he never failed to ask after Tom. Then he and Luke would discuss what he found out and I was completely superfluous. Most of it was unintelligible jargon anyway. At least that's what I told my brother.
* * *
"So you think Luke is trying to keep you busy?" Tom asks me between punches as he pounds on the little speed punching bag.
"I don't know Tom. I don't think he actually needs me.” I answer, exhaling as I slowly lower the weighted barbell to my chest, and pause before raising it again. “I mean I came in handy once or twice, they used cable ties and handcuffs at some of the police stations, but those guys probably wouldn't have broken free anyway. It doesn't seem to be all related either."
"What actually happened with the bear?" He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head as he misses his stroke. The little speed-punching bag goes wild.
"Well, I asked, but you know how evasive Luke can be." I breathe, placing the barbell on its rack, and sit up on the bench to mop the sweat from my neck with a towel. "At the meeting, I heard the General call it memory augmentation. Kind of like Luke putting himself into the guy's memories, altering them so that he remembers Luke being around. Creating a false relationship." I grimace, not sure if I have explained it well enough. Tom looks shocked and I commiserate, remembering my own initial ambivalence. "He says it isn't permanent.”
Tom doesn't look convinced so I explain that Luke and I talked afterward and he mentioned that it isn't something that he can do quickly or on the fly and it fades after a few hours. The only reason he did it that time was because the animalistic Grismand mind is difficult to decipher and it was easier to get the bear to tell Luke what the PG wanted to know than to dig it out from the chaos himself.
"And what did he do to the soldiers?" Tom looks worried.
"He knocked them out, what's the confusion?" I laugh, starting to realize what Tom is thinking.
"No I mean-" He starts to protest, but I cut him off.
"Look, Tom, we have nothing to worry about from Luke. He would never do something like that to us."
"I just don't get why are you helping him. You know how Dad felt about the whole Telepathy thing, and you’re forever complaining about how uncomfortable it makes you anyway."
"Well, the sanctity of Manorian thoughts and the Deity aside, I get to see Cathy," I smirk and he grins. "We went out last night."
"No!? Logan!" He chides banteringly.
“Well you've been so busy lately, we've hardly spoken, and I get lonely.” I pout and toss my towel at him.
"She's like thirty years old, and the Victor Morgan's daughter!" He looks sideways at me with one raised eyebrow.
"Come on! We're seventeen, and she's only twenty-one. Besides, she says her father likes me, and the old goat hardly ever even talks to me, anyway."
"What does Luke say?"
"You know him, cryptic as ever. 'Be careful'" I exaggerate Luke’s authoritarian tone and Tom laughs hysterically.
"Well, what's she like?" He wants to know, a little too enthusiastically for my comfort.
"Oh, she's great! Exactly what you want in a girl. Laughs easily. Smart, and she's a soldier, so, pretty, fit. An amazing dancer." I strip off my sweat-soaked shirt and step up to the diving board.
"Dancing? Are you going out again?"
"Of course, as soon as her duties will allow," I smirk at him looking over my shoulder then dive into the cool water cutting off further conversation.
* * *
"Would you like a tour?" I ask Cathy tentatively, holding out a hand as she steps down from the shuttle outside the front door of the manor.
"Sure. That'd be great." She replies, sweeping a stray lock of late afternoon sunkissed hair behind her ear, with just a hint of boredom in her tone and I wonder if she feels like she wasted her one day off this month. It seemed like she enjoyed the club. We watched the little ones drilling under Tom's instruction, which was so funny. And then she cheered vigorously while I got kicked about. I had to make a convincing show of letting Gerard beat me. He is the next contender for Champ after all and it won't be believable when I throw the semis if no one has ever seen him win against me in a sparring match. Though it might have been wiser to block that last roundhouse, I muse, opening the door and remembering the musclebound fool’s trainer-clad foot impacting my jaw.
I absentmindedly probe the cut on the inside of my cheek with my tongue and instantly regret it when Cathy notices. She tilts her head with a little smile and tenderly cradles my cheek in her hand then plants a soft kiss on my mouth. So fine. I can't suppress my grin which inevitably starts the cut bleeding again. She turns coquettishly and walks ahead letting me appreciate her small behind as it sways with her every stride, cradled in just not too tight, pale blue jeans.
As we stroll languidly through the manor house, Cathy marvels at the design, the layout, and the stonework. I share the facts I know, some insight into the architecture, a story here and there about the family, and anecdotes about all the things Tom and I have broken in our time here. A long list. A lot of the historic stuff and antiques were disintegrated in Elle’s accident, but the designers distributed what remained quite evenly, and there are pretty convincing imitations of others.
I avoid the bedrooms and Luke's study, but we grab a couple of apples in the kitchen and stop in the ballroom, the games room, and the library. Eventually, we find ourselves in the gym and Cathy becomes a little more bouncy.
She ducks between the ropes into the boxing ring, grinning playfully. I hop over the top one, grab my own pair of red half-mitts, and toss a spare blue pair in her direction. She catches them easily and I give her a chance to pull them on and test the fit, then she gets her guard up.
We play around a bit, I let her warm up and note her skill with pride. Her form is nearly perfect, a strong but light stance, chin down, sharp jabs, and pretty impressive footwork. Her ponytail bounces as she bobs and rolls and soon a light film of perspiration starts to gather on her brow. Every other punch or so she increases her speed a bit until even I have to admit she's not bad for a human, but then again, she is a Lieutenant in the Planetary Guard, so it’s not so surprising.
After a few minutes, I can see she has gotten a little more serious. I up my game just a trifle and throw one, not even half-committed gut punch. I expect her to dodge or at least try to block but she reacts a fraction of a second too slowly and it sends her flying straight into the ropes. She bounces right off back into the middle of the ring and just lays, panting.
“Cathy!” I call out and rush to her side. She stares at me in shock for a moment, holding her belly, then the most unlikely thing - bursts out in hysterical laughter.
"Well, remind me not to underestimate you next time." She sputters, still laughing, as I help her back to her feet.
"So, where's this famous 'girl'" She asks once she has regained her breath, with what I am starting to recognize as practiced nonchalance.
I tell her the story Luke gave to the PG as we walk down to the end of the hall where Elle's room is just above the infirmary, a nameless cousin, we found drifting in space in a stasis capsule proudly emblazoned with the No'gard’s drake insignia. The lie grates, but it’s for the best.
"Oh, she's so pretty!" Cathy exclaims delightedly upon seeing her. "Wow, that perfect skin, willowy too, and the hair!" She gushes, picking up the long black braid, to examine it minutely. Cathy takes Elle’s small hand in hers and fingers the slender digits as Elle breathes serenely, the heart monitor beeping its same steady rhythm. Cathy bends in close, to look at her resting face, then backs up suddenly, crinkling her nose and grinning cheekily.
"And you say Doctor McKeen hasn't been able to crack her gourd?" She asks, mischievous.
"Well if Luke has, he hasn't said anything, and from the way he acts around her I would say not," I murmur, feeling rather eager to move on to a new subject.
"That is interesting." She says quietly.
The next time, she brings Elle flowers, lilacs, "To brighten the room." Another time it is a box of candy, just in case, and then next is a cream teddy bear, purple bow, and all.
* * *
"She seems to always find a reason to visit our little 'cousin', and is always full of questions," I complain to Tom's avatar projected by my phone. He is in the middle of a lesson, and I can hear the young fighters drilling the five kicks in the background.
"Well, you see what's going on then, don't you? It's just like I've said." He states with just a hint of impatience.
"No, I am not sure I do see where it’s going, my brother, and your tone is rather unhelpful." I snap, irritated, wondering now why I called him at all. He has been nagging about the superficiality of Cathy's manner for a while and it has been more than getting on my nerves.
"Look, Logan, I can't talk right now. I will be home in a few hours then we can chat okay?" I nod with resignation and hang up.
I shrug on my jacket and head out the door into the icy winter wind. Tom has been arguing with me about the whole Luke thing for weeks. I don't get why he is so against it, and then he meets Cathy for the first time, instantly dislikes her, and has been hectoring me about that too ever since. He says she is just stringing me along. Yes, she's a tease, but which girl isn't, and she seems genuinely interested, most of the time.
The sky looks ominously close and chilly. Maybe it's going to snow. I put on my earphones and head out to the nearest copse of trees, at least some loud music and a run will clear my mind.
Next time… Things come to a head with the PG interrogations, and Logan learns something unexpected about himself.
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I wouldn't be surprised if there is monitoring equipment in the bear.
Yeah, Logan is blinded, but it's nothing that a few years in the guard won't fix.
Cathy is playing him like a harp and plucking every string to do it.
The problem is that Luke is snowed as well.