Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) by Milo Fowler (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📕

I'm a kid again, in trouble with the teacher. Bishop doesn't say another word as we pass through the command center, and it's not until we're in her spacious office with the double doors shut that she holds a finger to her lips and activates what sure sounds like a static disruptor. She sets the pen-sized device she withdrew from her pocket on her desk, and it whispers away, masking anything we say with white noise.

Because, apparently, the commander's office is monitored.

"Have a seat."

I'm still staring at the disruptor. "Ma'am?"

She shrugs out of her coat and drapes it over the back of her ergonomic chair, black like every other piece of furniture or tech in the room. The walls and floor are an industrial grey, the wide window behind her desk providing a view of the same urban shadow-shapes I saw from Drasko's vehicle.

"Sit down, Sera. Please." She extends a hand toward the two minimalist armchairs facing her desk. She doesn't take her seat until I collapse into one of them.

"You're monitored, ma'am?"

Chin raised, she lowers herself into her chair, and it molds itself automatically to support her. "You think a commander would be above the law?"

Of course not. I just thought the law would be more lenient toward those who've devoted their lives to protecting it.

"We have two minutes before the Chancellor's analysts will become suspicious. Audio glitches during curfew are not entirely out of the ordinary. We are running on very limited electrical resources at this time of night." She almost smiles, but her face quickly resumes its stoic look, as if pretending that momentary lapse never occurred. "What happened tonight will not happen again. You are too important to put yourself in danger like that, Sera. All of you are too important. The Chancellor has allowed you to live normal lives—"

I scoff at that. But since time is precious here, I don't elaborate.

Normal. Right. Going to the doctor every month since I was twelve. Being one of only twenty people in Eurasia my age. Going to boarding school with them, growing up with them like siblings, only to be split up across the Domes when we became of age. Not being able to see them or even communicate with them for years now. What are they doing with their lives these days? Getting lectured by their superiors?

"—in time for the banquet."

I curse out loud. Then I cover my mouth.

Commander Bishop is not amused. "Don't tell me you forgot about it."

I've had a lot going on lately.

"Probably can't go like this." I pluck at my bodysuit.

"You can't go anywhere like that. It's indecent." She shakes her head. "Promise me, Sera, that you will be more careful. I would hate to lose you. But if the Chancellor finds out about your rooftop chase and decides the role of enforcer is too dangerous for you, there will be nothing I can do about it. Her word is law."

"And she only wants what's best for me," I mutter.

"For all of us." She gives me a direct stare until I nod. "Now tell me why you pursued that curfew violator."

I glance at the disruptor. Apparently, she wants this discussion to be off the record. "I was following a lead, ma'am."

"A lead. I see. And why did you fail to notify an investigator about this?"

I dry-swallow uncomfortably. "Because it...wasn't an official matter." I lean forward. "But now it is. That grenade was proof he's a dangerous criminal with access to illegal weapons. A terrorist, most likely—"

She holds up a hand to stop me. "Explain this unofficial matter."

Right. No way I could distract her from that.

"I've been looking into…" I drop my gaze. Pick at my fingernail. "My parents."

Silence. Can't tell if it's the judgmental or surprised variety.

She knows.

My heart almost stops. Then it lurches into overdrive.

Before, when I heard that jumper's voice inside my head, I dismissed it as a symptom of high-stress. But just now, I heard two words from Commander Bishop when she didn't say a thing.

Did I read her mind? Of course not. That isn't possible.

The EMP really did a number on Wink and Blink. It affected me as well, and I won't know how severely until I check in with MedTech. Could be just a glitch in my augments, that's all.

So why am I trembling?

"And you thought this curfew violator had useful information." Bishop's tone is flat, like always.

"He said he did."

I cited him for his violation on the street outside a lights-out cube complex and told him to go home. Standard procedure. He smiled casually and apologized with a lame excuse, in no hurry to follow my order. Also standard among some nightlifers who think they're too pretty to obey the curfew.

Then he leaned in to read my badge and said, "Chen? You don't look Asian."

I've gotten that now and then over the years. It usually doesn't bother me. But coming from a loser like him?

I was a professional, so I kept my act together.

"My dad is. Not my mom." Common enough in Eurasia. "Goodnight, citizen. Be on your way."

He winked at me. "They're not your parents, Enforcer Chen."

I should have ignored him, put on the cop face until he made tracks straight to his domicile. Instead, I ordered him to explain himself.

"Trace your DNA." He shrugged, backing away. "Then you'll know for yourself."

He ambled off. I ordered him to stop, but he picked up the pace instead, grinning at me like an idiot. Then he charged into the complex, dashing up fifty flights to the roof and beyond—with me right behind him.

"Why did you believe what he said?" Bishop brings me back to the moment at hand.

I shake my head. "I didn't see any reason not to. What would he have gained by lying to me?"

"Was this before or after you realized he was a dust addict?"

"Before." I frown. "I had no idea…"

"Your first encounter with one of them."

I nod.

"In ten years on the force, I have never seen anything like that—what he was able to do.