All of Logan’s aches and feebleness were forgotten in a surge of anger. He knew he should calm down. He knew his father could have simply taken the Numa crystals for safekeeping to wait for Logan. He knew his father could be testing him (which pissed him off even more). Logan didn’t see his father anywhere in the camp,

“You…” Balmer said in a strange tone. “Are you looking for Mr. Specter?”

Logan had an overwhelming urge to snap at him and his stupid sweat stained dress shirt. Instead of the sneer or repressed anger Logan was used to seeing on Balmer’s face, there was something wary. Logan stopped on his tracks and took a breath.

“Yeah,” Logan said with a strained voice.

Balmer nodded and an awkward silence landed between them.

“She’s okay right?”

“She is,” Balmer assured. “Her vision came back and she got hungry. Ate some and slept.”

“Right…” Logan said. “Look. About what happened… I—”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this to you Little Prince, but that was a good call,” Balmer said and gave him a wan smile.

“I was— What?”

“It was risky and stupid, of course,” Balmer said. “But after I’ve seen how powerful those crystals can be… Yeah it was worth the risk.”

“You’re serious? We almost died.”

Balmer shrugged. “But we didn’t.”

“Since when did that stick fall down from your ass?” Logan asked, regaining some of his composure.

Balmer gave him a dry chuckle. “Same time you became useful for the first time in your life.”

“Yeah, fuck you.”

“Right back at you,” Balmer said. “Want to go check up on Kat?”

Something loosened inside Logan. His stupid father could wait. “Yeah. I do.”

Turned out Logan’s father was also in the den, as was Dr. Rosenberg and an agent guarding Logan’s satchel. Kat lay on the floor on her side, just breathing and watching their [Healer] fuss about her.

“I said I’m fine,” Kat said. “Go away.”

“Logan,” Malcolm stated. “We will need to discuss your role in the camp.”

“Nice to see you too, father,” Logan gave him a mock salute. Then he crouched down and pushed the doctor away. Dr. Rosenberg yelped and made protest, but Logan just kept pushing until their [Healer] got up, muttering to himself.

“Thanks,” Kat said and gave a weak smile.

“You alright?”

“That sludge of yours sure kicks hard,” she said.

“You’re supposed to drink water in between.”

“Which reminds me. I’m gonna have you magic us some alcohol one of these days.”

“Well we did get a sweet haul,” Logan said.

Weakly, Kat offered a fist. “Hell yeah we did.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Logan bumped the fist but said nothing.

Kat watched him under her brows. “Look. Stop being a pussy. It was a good call. I’m alright and we made bank.”

“Fine,” Logan said. “I’ll let you rest. Glad you’re alright.”

Malcolm snapped his fingers and pointed at the door. Logan nodded and followed his father outside.

As he often did, Malcolm Specter simply stood there, in his tattered and stained suit and waited. Logan knew this game. His father used this as some power play. Logan often wondered if he even knew he was doing these things, or if it was just as natural to his father as sweating.

Logan’s anger flared back, but he had done this dance before. He looked around the camp idly. Simmons had done short work of the copses nearby. A field of treestumps had made their camp much more wide. That was good. The camp also had a nice stack of lumber piling up. There were some elementary attempts at shelter, but mostly people were building tools or preparing food right now. The sun was bright and the camp’s bustle was somehow peaceful and homely to Logan. He smiled to himself.

“You did well,” Malcolm finally said. “I am… pleased.”

“Huh,” Logan let out. He didn’t really know what to say to that.

“It was risky to go look for the crystals to begin with. I heard from the agents what happened. You were thorough and careful. We are richer for it.”

“That’s— Thanks.”

Malcolm nodded. “I want to consult you. How do you think is appropriate to use this resource?”

There was something in the way he said it that made Logan cross his arms and furrow his brow. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I am asking you to contribute to the question of how I should distribute these crystals. You are the resident expert.”

“I am also the person who got this Numa,” Logan said, anger growing around him like a churning thundercloud.

“Not alone,” Malcolm reminded.

“A third should go to all three of us. The agents who were with us at the beginning already received a share.”

“Reasonable, were we in a free market society,” Malcolm said, his cool eyes regarding him without expression. Then he waved a hand. “Look around you. What should the crystals be used on?”

“How about this?” Logan said with all the collected calm he could muster. “You give me back what’s mine and I decide what should be done.”

“I am the leader of this operation.”

“So you keep reminding me,” Logan said. “Last time you gave me free reign, I built us shelter!”

“And it was well done,” Malcolm admitted. “You also made a pretty dress for your girlfriend.”

“Freya needed clothes,” Logan said and shrugged. “I wasn’t completely optimal, so what?”

“So what?” Malcolm growled. “I do not know if you noticed, Logan, but we are in a survival situation.”

“I’m not going to check by you every time I take a shit, father!” Logan said, loud enough to attract the attention of people building a fire for the evening nearby. “You can lead. But you have to stop this micro-management bullshit. Give me back my crystals.”

Malcolm regarded him with a long hard stare. “Greedy and petulant. If I give you some, what will you do with them?”

If I give you some. The nerve of this bastard.

“Now, father,” Logan said carefully, as if explaining a difficult subject to a child. “How many people do you have that are willing and capable to go out there and get these all-important crystals?”

“Get to the point, Logan.”

“You’re better off having me co-operative.”

[Reconfiguring Neural Matrix… 49% Completion]

That’s strange. You okay there Tumor?

[This one is using 97% of its capacity to decode the data-transfer given by the insect you discovered earlier.]

After a long pause, Malcolm Specter nodded. “Understood. Now answer my previous question.”

“What will I use my crystals for? Weapons.”

Malcolm scoffed. “I was a fool to even ask you.”

Logan looked at Simmons attacking a thick trunk of a tree like a hungry dervish twenty yards away. That man had an aura of heat emanating from him.

“You remember that actually useful advice you gave me when I was 7, and got bullied in school?”

Malcolm Specter raised half an eyebrow. “I do not recall.”

“I bet you don’t…” Logan muttered. “You told me that if someone attacks me, I need to fight back immediately.”

Malcolm untangled his crossed arms, letting one of them fall to his pocket. “I’m surprised to hear you actually listened for once.”

“I’m surprised to hear you using sarcasm. You must have jungle fever.”

Malcolm Specter smiled. It was a slight gesture, but for a fleeting moment, the glacial ice left his eyes.

Logan stored that image somewhere in the back of his mind. “Anyway. The teachers got extremely mad, but those idiots had it coming. They never bullied me again.”

Maybe it was the sun playing tricks on Logan’s eyes, but something softened in his father’s expression. Maybe it was some long overdue respect. Logan liked to think so. But it left his father’s face as soon as it came. Back was the stern disapproval and he crossed his arms again.

“It is good that you have grown, Logan,” Malcolm said. “But you are a fool to think we need to build weapons now. More people are coming here all day long. We need shelter. We need food, we need tools. You will help us build. That is the end of it.”

Malcolm walked past him back to the den, leaving Logan to bristle at the grass.