ONCE, LONG AGO, DEE HAD asked Sky Ranger and Penny about Janeane. Penny had just laughed, while Sky Ranger explained, “Janeane doesn’t make sense. She’s not like any other extrahuman I’ve ever met or even heard of. I have to admit, I don’t know what she’s capable of.”
Now, in the middle of the First Landing night, Dee followed Janeane through streets and alleys she’d never even known existed. They crossed vacant lots and hid in enclosed yards, easily dodging patrols. Janeane seemed to know every secret trail through the city.
They stopped somewhere in a half-finished neighborhood just southeast of East Square, at a sprawling, ramshackle wooden building with the dubious inscription “Hope House” poorly painted above the door.
“Come on in,” Janeane said. “We have plenty of time.” The Mandolian night was long, even in the height of summer.
Dee followed her through narrow, dark hallways to a big, open room where kids slept, sprawled out on couches and inflatable mattress pads.
“Nao,” Janeane said softly. One of the girls near the door stirred. “Where are Mark and Ban?”
“Off with Manda,” she mumbled. “Upstairs, I think.”
Janeane smiled gently. “Thanks. Back to sleep.” She touched the girl lightly on the head, and she dropped off to sleep almost instantly. Janeane hummed to herself, satisfied. She rose and gracefully threaded her way through the mass of sleeping youths, still humming softly. Dee followed as best she could. She nudged one boy with her foot and caught her breath, expecting him to wake up, but he just murmured and fell into an even deeper sleep.
When they were alone again, heading up a steep flight of stairs, Dee asked softly, “Homeless kids, huh?”
Janeane nodded. “Some. Others have families but don’t stay with them, or come here for one reason or another a few nights a week.”
“I stayed in something like this for a couple of weeks when I first got here,” Dee said thoughtfully. “I was still mostly a kid then, too. It was safer than the camps.”
“That’s the idea,” Janeane said.
“Do you run it?”
She shook her head, smiling slightly. “Oh, no. I just come and go. We’re here to collect my three for today.”
“We’re bringing kids to the square?” Dee asked, incredulous. Even if things stayed peaceful, it might not be the best place for kids to be.
“Sure,” said Janeane. “Why not? Ban and Mark are anything but normal kids. You’ll see.” She knocked on a door. “You in there?”
There was a muffled curse, and a flurry of rustling. Then someone cracked the door.
“What?” a dark-haired, hard-eyed girl asked sharply. As soon as she saw Janeane, she softened. “Oh, it’s you. Wait.” She closed the door again, and there was more rustling. Dee and Janeane exchanged a look before it swung open again, disgorging two lanky teenage boys and the girl, all dressed in a strange mishmash of clothes and styles. One boy was short, with fair skin, curly brown hair, and an easy smile; the other was taller with brown skin, an almost-shaved head, dark eyes, and a solemn expression.
“Who’s this?” the taller one asked.
“Ban, this is Dee. Dee, this is Ban,” Janeane said, indicating the tallboy.
“Nice to meet you,” Dee said, shaking his outstretched hand. He felt cold. She guessed he was about sixteen, maybe a little older.
“I’m Manda,” said the girl.
“I’m Mark ,” said the other boy. Mark and Manda seemed older than Ban, maybe nineteen or twenty. They exchanged careful nods with Dee. “So. Dee, right? How come you’re in a place like this so late at night?”
“I thought she should see the guest in the basement,” Janeane said. “And then we can go to the square together.”
“Yeah!” cheered Mark, a little too loudly. Manda shoved him.
Manda was pregnant, Dee realized. Something in the way she moved gave it away. She guessed Mark was the father from the way they joked and smiled at one another. She glanced at Janeane, who only shook her head, smiling knowingly.
“Well,” Ban said. His voice was soft but magnetic. When he spoke, everyone’s attention turned to him. “Let’s go downstairs. He might be awake.”
“I doubt that,” said Janeane. “But we’ll go anyway.” Dee and Manda trailed after Janeane and the boys.
“I like those shoes,” Manda said shyly.
Dee was wearing a pair of old boots. “These? You’re kidding. I wear them to work!” Or she had, when she’d had a job.
“Yeah. They’re nice. I like boots like that.”
What could she say? “Thanks.”
“What do you do? For work.”
“Oh,” said Dee. “I drive a van. Deliveries.”
“That sounds like so much fun!” Manda said, eyes bright. “I wish I knew how to drive. Mark keeps saying he’ll teach me, but he doesn’t drive at all. He just flies!”
“He flies?” Dee gasped, startled.
“Not like Penny does,” Janeane murmured up ahead of them. “And shh, people are sleeping.”
Manda giggled. “He has a little beat-up zipper we go up in sometimes, when we can get away.”
“So… ” Dee asked, knowing better but pressing ahead anyway. “Why are you here?”
“Usual,” said Manda, trying to seem like it was no big deal. “Parents, school. I had all kinds of problems. I needed to get away somewhere. Mark’s here all the time, though he doesn’t live here. Ban’s dad’s dead, I think.”
Ahead, Ban stiffened slightly. Manda rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t talk about it,” she whispered. “He doesn’t talk about himself at all!” Dee wondered again how old Manda was, really. She looked like she might be in her late teens, but she acted much younger.
They went down one flight of stairs, then another. The basement was cold concrete and tile floors, more brightly lit than the rest of the house. Dee wondered why it was here; most buildings in First Landing rested on concrete slabs with no underground floors.
“It was owned by the Colonization Authority a long time ago,” Janeane said, as if in answer to her thoughts. “They did all kinds of good stuff here.” She led them on without any further explanation.
There were a number of rooms in the bunker-like warren of brightly lit concrete halls, and Janeane led them to one. “Here,” she said.
For the first time, Dee had a momentary shiver of worry as she approached the low bed, on which a man lay prone. He was tied loosely with what looked like metal cables. He had short, sandy hair and a latticework of fading scars running down his face and neck.
Dee jumped back, hands outstretched in defense. “Torres!”
“I thought you should see him,” Janeane said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But after what you said earlier, I doubted you’d come on your own if you knew.”
“You thought right,” Dee hissed, edging back toward the door.
“Wait,” said Janeane, and her voice seemed to fade back into itself. Dee relaxed, wanting to stay a little longer. Then she shook her head, remembering who she was dealing with, and called up a little burst of fire which puffed into the air between her and Janeane.
“Don’t do that to me,” she snarled.
“Whoa,” Mark breathed. Ban and Manda stepped back a pace, alarmed.
Janeane’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow. “All right. But stay a little. He won’t hurt you. I don’t think he ever meant to hurt you.”
Torres moaned softly in his sleep. Janeane knelt next to him and put a hand on his head, her eyes closed. He stopped twitching and was still again. Soon he was snoring peacefully.
Dee, against her better judgment, inched closer.
“How long has he been here?” she asked warily. “When did he get here?”
“A month ago, maybe less,” Manda said. “ Mark and I found him wandering the streets, babbling, and doing… things. He’s strong, and… ”
“He sets things on fire,” Mark said, eying Dee suspiciously. “We thought that was just a fluke. I guess it isn’t. So are you related to him, or what?”
Dee shook her head. “No. Definitely not. You should turn him in.”
“To whom?” Janeane asked. “The CMP?” She gazed placidly at Dee, who looked quickly away. She couldn’t know. Could she?
“We can take him back to Clearfield, maybe,” Dee said quickly.
On the bed, Torres moaned.
Janeane shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s a human being, Dee. He doesn’t deserve to be locked up simply because he is who he is.”
“You don’t know what he’s done!” Dee spat.
“And what is that?”
“He hunted down Sky Ranger on Calvasna. He tried to kill him!”
“Is that all? And was he fully himself, then?”
“I don’t care!” said Dee fiercely.
“It matters. He’s been confined for a decade, and as you can see, it hasn’t helped him any..”
“He tried to set me on fire the other day,” Dee exclaimed. “While he’s been here with you! That, you can’t excuse.”
“He told me,” said Janeane. “He was afraid. He meant no harm. He knew you wouldn’t be hurt.”
Dee was shaking. “You have no idea.”
“And what did you do, when you were afraid back on Calvasna?”
“That’s different!” cried Dee. “No! I won’t accept it. He’s horrible, a mutant thing made in a lab!”
“Hey,” Mark said. “He can’t help—”
“I don’t care!” Dee spat, rocketing towards out of control, fast. Her temperature rose. She let it. “You say you saw him set stuff on fire? That’s my fire he’s using. They stole it from me, to use for him, and I’ve never been right since!”
She ignited the air with an angry thought. Fire swirled around her; she knew she was hot to the touch, but for the first time in years, she didn’t care. She advanced on the bed.
Janeane stood in her path.
“Get out of my way,” Dee said, her voice low and full of menace. Flame licked around the edges of her vision. All she could think about was roasting Torres.
Janeane raised a hand, a look of deep concentration on her face, and said a quiet, unintelligible word. Dee knew nothing more.
The ocean heaved around her, tossing her back and forth like a rag doll. She spat a mouthful of seawater out, only to be smacked in the face by another wave.
Forget it, she thought, and dove into the deep blackness of the sea. She swam down, down, down, until her lungs were bursting. She sucked in a lungful of water, and found she could breathe just fine. She had always known how, and couldn’t comprehend how she’d ever forgotten that knowledge. The water was cooler in her lungs than air.
At the bottom of the ocean, her grandmother waited. She was dressed in the flower-print dress Dee always remembered her wearing, and she had a kind expression on her lined face.
“Little chicken-Dee,” she said. “I’ve been waiting.”
Dee hugged her grandmother. She smelled like fresh muffins. Around them, red mammoths gathered, settling into the deep ocean mud. They made soft whuff-ing sounds of welcome.
“Listen, kiddo, I have something you need to hear.”
“What?” said Dee, a little girl in a yellow dress again. Water flowed all around her, but the dress remained dry.
“I hid away for my whole life. But you know what I was.”
Dee nodded. “You were like me.”
She knelt down and cupped Dee’s face in her old, weathered hands.
“It’s strange,” Gramma said. “But here’s the truth: I wish I hadn’t hid.”
The mammoths huffed and wheezed, creating a sonorous undertone of sadness and loss.
“I’m tired of hiding, too,” Dee said, and she was crying. “I’m tired of running away!”
“Don’t be afraid, my chicken girl,” Gramma said. “Don’t ever be afraid to be yourself.”
When she surfaced, she found everyone in the room gathered over her, staring down.
“Oh,” she said. She felt cold, drained, and immediately looked around the room for scorch marks. “Did I… ?”
“You cooled off,” Janeane said.
“You… ” said Dee. “What did you… ? How did you know about my grandmother?”
Janeane smiled. “I didn’t. Did you see her? It’s different for everyone. You get what you get.”
Mark held out a hand; she took it. “Are you going to try to set us on fire again?” he asked, helping her up.
“No,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Good,” he said, satisfied.
“She could still change her mind at any time,” Ban observed.
“Paranoid,” Mark threw back.
“I won’t,” promised Dee. “Really.” Not right now, anyway. “What did you do?” she asked Janeane. She tried to be angry, but it wouldn’t come.
“You were going to hurt us,” she said, lightly squeezing Dee’s hand. Her touch was cool and dry. “You go out of control quickly, I see. I stopped you. I’m sorry. It was a crude way of doing that.”
Manda put a hand on Dee’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you. Torres scared the hell out of me when we saw him the first time.”
“And you didn’t meet him in a Confederation Military special projects lab,” Dee said, trying to crack a joke. From Manda’s expression, it seemed she hadn’t done so well.
She glanced down at Torres’s sleeping face. “I still… it’s impossible for me not to hate him, a little bit. He’d still turn us all in if he could.”
“You don’t know that,” said Janeane. “Don’t forget, when you met him the other day, he was running from them.”
On the bed, Torres moaned again, this time more softly and sadly; a high, mournful wail.
“The Confederation put monsters in his mind,” Janeane said quietly.
“He volunteered,” Dee muttered.
“He doesn’t remember that,” Janeane replied. “He only remembers the pain.”
Torres suddenly opened his eyes, crying out in alarm. Janeane knelt next to him. “Shh. Shh,” she said soothingly. “It’s all right.”
He fixed his eyes on Dee and screamed. Dee braced herself.
“You!” he cried. “No! Don’t take me in!”
“No, no,” Janeane said. “She’s not here to bring you back. She’s… a friend.” She glanced up at Dee. Tell him, her expression said.
“I… yeah. It’s true, I won’t hurt you,” Dee said. Damned if I’ll say I’m his friend, though.
“Dee,” he said, eyes rolling back in his head.
Dee, in spite of herself, knelt next to him as well. “Torres,” she said.
He glanced at her.
The man who took Amos—who was he?
The question rose unbidden, bubbling up out of the depths of her mind. Her luck song repeated over and over in her head. Luck, lucky, luck, luck… my luck, mine mine, my luck, mine mine… “The man who took Amos,” she said slowly. “You… do you know who he was? Amos. The son of Penny and Sky Ranger.” Janeane looked up, startled.
Torres waited a moment. “Y—yes… from Clearfield… we knew him… ” he breathed before lapsing back into unconsciousness.
“Torres?” she asked again, luck suddenly vanished. “Torres. Who was he? Can you tell me?”
He said nothing, deep asleep once again.
“He won’t wake again for a while,” Janeane said after a too-long silence. “We may as well go down to the square.”
“I’ll get the stuff,” Mark said. He rummaged around in a closet, withdrawing a blue and white flag. Dee gasped. It looked like the old Confederation flag, but with one difference. Instead of the globe of Earth on the hoist, there was a familiar eight-pointed compass rose.
“The Union?” asked Dee, incredulous. “Really?”
“The old Extrahuman Union is more than a decade gone,” said Janeane. “And this is the symbol of its very first Sky Ranger. More than any of us, he stood for something greater. I thought it fitting.”
The flag was striking. How had they made it so quickly?
“Here,” said Ban, handing it to Dee. “We made lots of them. They’re not quite the old design, so they’re not banned. Not technically. That was another reason to use this emblem.”
She inspected the flag in her hand. It was covered in dust. They’d had them for a while. For what purpose? Had they known this day was coming?
“New day, new flag,” said Mark. “Yeah! This is going to be great.”
“You aren’t afraid?” Dee asked.
“Nah,” said Mark, with the bravado of the young. “There will be thousands of people there. What are they going to do?”
You’d be surprised, Dee thought darkly.
“We’ll be fine,” Manda said, though Dee thought her excitement was a little dimmer than that of the boys. A hand snaked subconsciously to her belly. “We’re together and with friends. It’ll be peaceful.”
“How do you know that?” Dee demanded.
“Because I will be there,” Janeane said softly. “Now. Gather everything. Let’s go.”