CHAPTER 67 - JACK

There was a celebration, of course.

It wasn’t much of one, Jack thought, and that was fine, because he had never been one for celebrations that were much of anything. But, for what felt like the first time in his life, three days after he had been released from his holding cell, there was a lightness in his chest that allowed him to feel almost content.

Almost.

Sabra leaned across the table, the setting sun behind her. “Okay,” she said, grinning. “You two have to level with me here. Did Aegis really make you swear to be on your best behavior?”

Next to him, Sam laughed. “Oh, yeah, absolutely. But I had my fingers crossed, so, I don’t think it counts.”

“Forever and ever,” Jack said, and he might have been smiling. “An oath’s an oath, Sam.”

“Oh, please. I’ve never met an oath I didn’t break.”

It really wasn’t much of a party. The celebration was just four people around a table in some bar in the higher levels of one of Geneva’s skyscrapers. Jack had never been to Geneva before, and he had seen little of it from inside his cell, but it was clearly a city that had built upward instead of outward. It was a smart decision, but the bar was so far up that even Jack had a moment’s vertigo when he looked out the window. It looked expensive—with stylish staff and upscale decor that matched the ludicrous prices.

But apparently Revenant was footing the bill. Jack wasn’t sure how that worked, although Sabra had said something about her father being a big name in Dynamic Horizons. That was strange, because Jack wasn’t sure how a robot could have a father. Then again, he’d had parents and he'd turned out how he had, and sometimes he felt an odd kinship between himself and the robot who had almost killed him. Separate and not quite human.

Things had worked out pretty well for Sabra, it seemed. Whereas he was alive, and that was all he wanted. Most of the time it was just Sabra and Sam talking with Revenant pretending she wasn’t remaining in the former’s orbit. It was all fine, because he was content to just be.

It was a strange feeling, but it didn’t hurt.

Sabra drained her glass and belched.

“Sabra,” Revenant said.

“Sorry. So,” she said, looking at them, “where’re you two going now?”

“That’s a good question,” Jack said, and looked to Sam.

She stared right back at him and kept staring as she chugged down her entire glass. “What?” she said. “Why’re you looking at me?”

“Because you’re wearing a dress.”

“Oh, I’m wearing a dress, let’s all comment. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate it when you start having thoughts, Jack?”

“Yeah, most of the time. Seriously, no ideas?”

“I told you back in Australia that I was happy with being arrested, or dying. Now, I was arrested, and they let me go and as far as I can tell, I’m not dead. So, I think I’m just going to drink until it all makes sense.”

“Another round then,” Sabra said.

“Let me,” Revenant said, heading over to the bar.

Sabra smiled that ridiculous smile of hers and watched her march over towards the bar. Then, looking past her, she said: “Well, shit, look at what the cat dragged in.”

There was Pavel Fisher, rolling his way across the bar floor. The unimpressed expression on his face was familiar, even if the wheelchair wasn’t. “Thanks for hosting this in an easily accessible place,” he said.

“What’re you doing here?” Sabra asked.

“Yeah, thanks for the invite, by the way.”

“Man, I tried, but the hospital told me you weren’t leaving for another day, at least. How’d you even get here?”

“The chair has wheels, Sab.”

“Uh, yeah, I can see that. What I mean is, how’d you find us?”

“I told him,” Revenant said, setting the next set of glasses down.

“And what was the hospital going to do—wrestle me out of this chair?” Fisher asked.

“Hey,” Sam said. “Someone’s got new hands.”

“Just temporary ones. But they’ll do the job until the hospital gives me some better replacements.”

Sabra nodded. “Can you still...”

Fisher extended one hand towards Sabra’s glass as she reached for it and it popped into his hand like it’d always been there. “Yeah. It’s kinda strange. Sort of need to judge it from the end of my wrist, though, not my hand as such.”

“Didn’t think you capes could get your powers back,” Jack said.

“Me either,” Fisher replied, shrugging. “Maybe I never really lost them. Just thought I did.” He set the glass down and slid it back across the table toward Sabra.

“Well, it’s good timing, Pavel,” Sabra said. “We were just talking about what we were going to do now.”

“You first, Sab.”

“Get myself registered and start keeping the peace. That, and hike Mount Saleve.”

“Sounds like a start,” Fisher said. “Well, would you believe me if I said instructor?”

“No,” Sam said.

“Guess it depends on what you’re instructing,” Jack said. “And who.”

Fisher continued, “When this all began, I thought Sab here needed someone to show her the ropes.”

“I don’t need someone to show me the ropes,” Sabra said. “I put people on the ropes.”

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Revenant placed one hand across Sabra’s mouth. “Yes, we all know you’re fantastic, Sabra. Please continue, Pavel.”

“Well, I’m not going to say I was right or wrong on that count. But it got me thinking. The IESA is always looking for new instructors and teachers, preferably ones with real experience. Either here or in the old Academy in New York.”

“Capetown,” Sam said.

“Sure, if you want to use that name for it,” Fisher replied. “Either way, I think what little good I can really do at this point is just to pass on my knowledge. Running around the world like this was hard enough on me as it was, and that was before I got a hole in me. I don’t think I can change the world by going out there, but maybe I can do it by teaching the next generation.”

Sabra clawed Revenant’s hand away from her mouth. “I think you’d make a great instructor, Pavel. I mean it.” Then she gestured to his wheelchair with a wave of her hand. “So, this chair thing, is it a permanent deal?”

Fisher laughed. Then he shook his head, taking a moment to catch his breath, clutched his side. “Christ, Sab, don’t do this to me. I’m just remembering how when we first met, you asked me about my hands. Never change.”

“I don’t plan on it. But it’s a serious question! And you brought up your hands, anyway!”

Fisher shook his head, waved down one of the staff, placed an order. Then he gestured to Sam and Jack. “How about you two? You can’t be going back to your old life after all this, I hope.”

Jack kept his mouth shut. The answer was an obvious no. He had never wanted to kill people; it had just been something he could do better than anything else, better than others. He had thought that it was the path to being a hero, a legend, but that was just a dream, a fantasy. But even knowing all that, Jack was painfully aware that his skills were limited, and his prospects more so.

And all things take the path of least resistance.

“I hope not,” Jack replied, frowning. “It’s not what I want to do.”

“Well, Jack,” Sabra said, “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Just... not what I was doing.”

“Well,” Sam said, with the comfortable sigh of good-natured long-suffering, “I suppose that’s better than what you say most of the time.”

“Yeah. I suppose it is. I don’t know if I can ever be normal, but I think I can do some kind of good out there. It’s a big world.”

Silence as everyone took a drink. “I could lean on my old boss for you,” Fisher said, nodding. “I can’t promise much, or even anything, but they weren’t the worst outfit in the world, and they can use people who know how to sniff out information. It wouldn’t be much, but it’d be a start.”

“What’d they do?”

“Private security and intelligence, threat assessment. Consider it the white-collar version of what you used to do, and you wouldn’t be that far off.”

Jack ran that idea around his mind. “It’s a start,” he said. “And at this point, I think I’m grateful for any new start I can get.” The next word was hard. “Thanks, Pavel.”

“Don’t mention it. Remains to be seen if Asadi will humor me again.”

The little party went on. It was quiet and conversational and strangely pleasant, even if Jack was still struck by the feeling of being on the outside looking in. Sabra did most of the talking but, when Jack cracked that barrier and spoke up, everyone seemed happy to listen.

Very strange. What was stranger was the awareness that he felt comfortable with them all, if only somewhat. Were they friends? That was what Jack wasn’t sure about, but they seemed to be people who liked having him around, even if he didn’t understand why. That, he thought, felt good enough for now.

But even he was aware of the looming melancholy. That, soon enough, they would all break apart. Life would take them in different directions. Sabra would remain here, Fisher would go wherever he was planning to go, and he and Sam would go wherever they would go. Despite everything, life went on.

But he’d remember them, and maybe even fondly.

All of a sudden, he was standing, and Jack raised his half-empty glass. By now, he couldn’t remember what was in it. “How about a toast?”

“To what?” Sabra asked, laughing. “To kicking ass and taking names?”

Sam grinned. “Works for me.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “But I was thinking friends. Because even though we’ve lost them, we can always remember them as they were.”

For a moment, he was struck by how ridiculous the thought was. But then Fisher raised his shot glass. “To Katherine,” he said. “The Golden Age will never die.”

Sam raised her glass, too. “Sn–” She began, caught herself. “Jocasta. Wherever she is.”

“Mike,” Sabra said.

“Elias,” Jack said, and drained his glass. Across the room, he spied a tall man with red hair. Just for a moment, just for a second, he saw Elias, his smile, and felt the warmth of his way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world, even when you knew it was a lie.

And then the moment passed, the man turned, and it wasn’t Elias or even a shadow of him, and all Jack thought was, Goodbye, old friend. It hurt, deep in his chest, but it was already scarring, fading. Healing.

Later, the group moved to the outside balcony. The sun had set, and Geneva had come alive with artificial lights to compensate. Sabra leaned up on the balcony, staring toward the Alps. “It’s funny,” she said. “I always thought we needed a team name.”

“Like what?” Fisher asked.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I never got that far. Names are hard, man.”

“I think we’re still a team, name or not. Friends, even, if I’m not presuming too much.”

Friends. That was strange, but okay, too.

“I would’ve called us Kittycat Parade,” Sam said. “Feline Force. Cat Carousel.”

“Holy shit,” Jack said. “How long have you been holding onto those?”

She shrugged. “Fair while.”

“There’s actually one more thing I wanted to mention,” Fisher said. He glanced about, checking how far away the clusters of other people were. Far enough, Jack thought, especially with the general murmur of the patrons to block anything out.

“I kicked off this whole thing because I wanted to know what was really going on behind it all,” Fisher continued. “Gate was working for the Concordiat, but I’m still no closer to figuring out why this all happened.”

“Does it matter, Pavel?” Sabra asked.

“Maybe, maybe not. But I have to find out. Gate said the Concordiat would be looking for me now. That probably goes for you all, too. I think it’s only a matter of time until we see what’s coming next. I want to get ahead of it.”

“You’re not a spy,” Sam said.

“No. But I think this maybe even goes all the way back to Preceptor. I need answers, and going into teaching will give me a good chance to catch up on my reading.”

“How devious.”

“What I can I say, you and the boy rubbed off on me.”

“If you need to blow the place up,” Jack said, “I’m sure we could swing by. It’d be like old times.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. But if I need it, you two will get the first right of refusal.”

Eventually, the night wore on and wore down. Revenant was the first to leave, patting Sabra on the shoulder and vanishing like a wraith in the night. Then Fisher, who was then followed by Sabra, who claimed she had to make sure he was actually going to get back to the hospital. But she paused to hug Sam, and shake his hand, and then she was gone, too.

Jack watched her go and then, for a time, stood on the balcony and looked out over Geneva. There was something familiar about it all, like something out of a dream he didn’t quite remember. He finished his drink and, for a time, didn’t think about anything at all.

Sam nudged him in the side. “So, you ready to go? Place is closing up.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, and he took one last look at Geneva from the balcony. “Where’re we headed?”

“That’s a good question,” Sam replied, gathering up her jacket. “I figure we find a hotel and think about it in the morning. You know how long it’s been since I had room service?”

Jack walked along with her, toward the exit, and whatever lay beyond.

He said, “We still don’t have much of a plan, you know.”

Sam smiled. “I know. But we’re both cats, aren’t we? And they always land on their feet.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, and he took one last look behind him. “I guess we do at that.”

And then he stepped outside, and into the future—and whatever lay beyond.