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Summus Proelium
To The Races 32-07

To The Races 32-07

It was weird spending so much time not going out in costume. Yeah, I had been told in no uncertain terms that there would be consequences if I didn't take this vacation, but still. It was strange to essentially be grounded from being Paintball. I had been spending so much of my free time running around that way that staying firmly in civilian mode for so long was making me… maybe itchy was the best word for it. It felt like I was missing something, like there was something else I should have been doing. It just felt like I was doing something wrong, wasting my time goofing around when I could have actually been contributing something vaguely useful. Yes, it was stupid. But I couldn't help it.

What I needed was a distraction, something to make me stop thinking about all the work I should have been doing. Fortunately, the LEAT games were bound to help a lot with that. I’d enjoyed watching them online for so long, and now I was actually going to be there in person. No matter how much responsibility I felt when it came to helping clean up the city after all that had happened, I couldn't pretend I wasn't giddy about this trip. It made me feel like an innocent kid again.

Izzy and I were packing our stuff the morning of the trip. We could have done it the night before, but we sort of started talking about everything again and fell asleep. It really was incredible how much better I always slept after talking everything out with her.

We had my door open, with one of the maids cleaning up in the nearby hall, so the two of us were limiting our current conversation to just talking about the events we were about to go see. I kept hyping up the tournament, babbling (yes, I could admit it) about the participants I really wanted to meet, and about past winners for some of the bigger events. I could tell that Izzy didn't care about it nearly as much as I did, but she was humoring me. And I was sure she'd have fun with it once we were there and actually seeing it. The excitement of the games was something you couldn’t really describe.

I was in the middle of talking about one of the most impressive, amazing athletes to ever participate in these games, when Simon stepped into the open doorway. He was carrying a backpack in one hand, and gave us a sly look. “Did they tell you about the time they tried to stow away inside Dad’s suitcase just to meet the guy who won the gold in Total Freefall?”

I made a pointed harumph noise while giving him a look. Sure, I knew he was intentionally messing with me, but I couldn't help it. “First of all, they don't have gold medals. Or silver or bronze either. That's the Olympics. The LEATs have rings, like the kind you wear on your finger. The rings are super rare and expensive, because they're biolocked to the person who won them. The ring won't open enough to go on your finger unless you're the person it's meant for. If you see someone wearing one, it means they got within the top three of one of the events. And they go sapphire for third place, emerald for second place, and ruby for first. Plus a lot of places give huge discounts and other benefits to anybody who has one.”

From where she was sitting on my bed, looking back and forth between the two of us, Izzy spoke up. “What was that about trying to stow away in your--in Dad’s suitcase?” She was still reflexively having a bit of a problem with calling our parents our parents. But it was getting better all the time.

I could feel my face turn pink at that, even as my head shook quickly. “It doesn't even count. I don’t even remember it, except what they told me later. I think I was like five years old. I guess I knew Dad was taking a business trip to this place where Carl Detmer was going to be. He retired a couple years later, but at that point, he'd won like six ruby rings. He's seriously the best competitor they ever had in the low-to-moderately Enhanced rankings. And he was going to be in the same room with Dad. It was for some sort of big athletic shoe sponsorship deal.”

Simon was grinning, the expression on his face not too unlike girls at school who liked to gossip. “Oh, it definitely counts. Dad said he'd get you an autograph, but that wasn't enough. You wanted to meet him, and had the whole thing planned out. You took two bottles of water and four bags of fruit snacks for the trip and you crawled right into his bag that morning while it was sitting in the hallway, just before they were supposed to leave. But Jefferson noticed how much heavier the bag was.”

Yeah, now I was definitely blushing. The vague half-memory of that made me squirm and retort, “Again, five years old. Besides, I’m pretty sure it wasn't just a few bags of fruit snacks. I had some beef jerky in my pockets too.”

Simon grinned at me. “Oh, well that definitely changes everything. If Jefferson hadn't been so nosy, you absolutely would have made it all the way there and managed to sneak out just in time to meet the guy. He would've made you his sidekick, and the two of you would have gone on to win another twenty rings.” He adopted a teasingly mournful tone. “That was your shot at greatness.”

My hand snapped out to poke him in the shoulder. “Let's get this straight, oh brilliant big brother of mine, I was always great. And I keep getting better all the time. I am amazing, thank you very much. And I'm definitely going to meet Detmer. Maybe even on this trip. He doesn't compete anymore, but sometimes he shows up anyway just to hang out and play in some of the exhibition games now and then. Besides, I still have plenty of time to become one of their sidekicks, unlike you, Old Man Simon.”

He started to protest that he was only four years my senior, but I just pantomimed limping around helplessly on a walker until he swatted at me.

Izzy quickly piped up before that could devolve too much. “Plus that Inessa Sidorov girl is gonna be there, right? I don't think she's really competing.”

I shook my head while dancing away from Simon. “She's participating in a couple of those exhibition games I was talking about. If we're really lucky, maybe she and Detmer will end up in a game together!” The very thought of that happening the first time that I actually physically attended the tournament was enough to make me bounce up and down giddily. Yes, this trip really was going to help distract me from all that guilt about not going out as Paintball. If I hadn't known any better, I almost would have thought that my parents had actually planned this trip specifically for that. But no, I wasn't going to let my inner paranoia run off on a whole thing for that. This was just a normal family trip to make up for the whole Sleeptalk thing.

After saying something about how we should hurry up so we wouldn't miss the plane, Simon left. He was already on his phone before he even made it out of my doorway, saying something to one of his friends who apparently lived down in Arizona. They were planning to meet up and go do some stuff while we were there. Or, for all I knew, that entire conversation was some sort of code for Ministry business and they were really talking about crimes.

I had no idea, and I wasn't going to think about it too much right now. I just couldn't. What I did do, on the other hand, was close and lock my door. Then I ran my hand along my dresser and the mirror nearby. It wasn't until I saw Izzy squinting at me that I realized what I was doing. Without even thinking about it, I was making sure that Simon hadn't left behind any sort of listening device. Yes, it was incredibly unlikely. He had no reason, as far as I knew, to be suspicious. Still, I had to check.

This was the sort of life I had right now. No matter how casual and ordinary an interaction I might have had with my own brother, I still had to check to make sure it wasn't some sort of distraction or trap.

Giving a heavy sigh, I walked over to sit on my bed. “So, three new members for your team, huh?” Yeah, I was deliberately changing the subject because I didn't want to think about that other stuff right now. It wasn't as though obsessing over the whole situation with not being able to fully trust my family would actually change anything about it. Besides, I really did want to know more about that.

Izzy nodded quickly. “Uh huh, there's Facsimile and Yeet. They're brother and sister. I don't know much about them-- I mean, almost nobody does. They haven't been public Touched before. But Carousel does. She vouched for them. Which kinda raises all sorts of questions.” She frowned thoughtfully before pushing on. “I think they might be legacies, cuz they definitely understand their powers. They've used them a lot. And they already have some real training.”

Legacies, of course, was another way of saying that they had inherited powers from their parents rather than specifically Touching on their own. As far as I knew, it was another fairly rare thing. And I couldn't figure out who in the city they would have inherited those specific powers from. Something to do with energy and light? Dynamic might almost fit, but she was definitely too young to have teenage kids. Nobody else was really coming to mind, unless it was one of the Seraphs or something. Or maybe it was just one of the Civ-Touched out there. Hell, it could be someone I just wasn't thinking of. Or someone not in this city.

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Whoever their parent Touched was, if they had one, it probably wasn't actually any of my business. I was just curious. Especially since they had come out of nowhere to help fill out the ranks of the Minority. If they were going to be on a team with my sister and my friend, part of me wanted to find out everything I could about them. Was that a crime?

In the meantime, they weren't the only two joining that team. So I changed the subject and asked, “What about the other guy? He is established.”

Izzy’s head bobbed easily, as she gave me a look that I couldn't decipher. “Uh huh! Flashflak is from Minnesota and had a whole thing up there. The Ministry could have recruited him, I guess. He sounds pretty ambitious, you know? I mean, he still wants to help people and all, but he's also into the business side of it. Business like sponsorships and getting the big teams to notice him. We only talked for a few minutes last night with the rest of the team, but he's all about branding and getting his name out there.” She gave me a small smile then and poked me with an overly cheerful, “Actually, come to think of it, he talked about getting to know you as soon as he can. He was very into that idea.”

Coughing, I managed a weak shrug. “I hope he isn't thinking about coming over to my team, cuz we're sort of full up right now. Also, I really don't think I could tell him anything that he can't learn better from you guys. Besides, doesn't he have a year of experience already? He's been doing this longer.”

Izzy was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. It was an expression that made me nervous. She picked up her suitcase, or rather, tried to. But it was heavy. So she summoned water from a glass on the table and sprinkled it over the bag to make it almost weightless. Then she picked it up. “That's the thing, I didn't say he wanted to meet Paintball. I said he wants to meet you, as in Cassidy Evans.”

Okay, that made me do a double-take, staring at her uncertainly while she audibly giggled. I just blinked in confusion as my head shook. “What do you mean? Why would he want to meet the civilian me? I don't have anything for him. Why would the subject of me even come up? I'm just nobody.”

Izzy’s small fist punched me in the arm lightly. “Hey, stop it. You're not nobody, don't say that. And you came up because Amber mentioned going to school with you and a couple others when we found out he's gonna be going there too. He saw your picture on her phone and thinks you're cute. That's why he wanted to get to know you, duh.”

For a moment, I just stared at her. Then I grabbed my bag and replied, “I guess it's good to know who the Ministry spy is, but why do you think he'd try to get close to me? Do Mom and Dad actually suspect something? Do you think they want him to check on me in general, or do they have something specific? Maybe it's just an opportunity thing since he's new.”

I started to go on with that line of thought, but Izzy quickly interrupted, sounding as though I had just started talking gibberish. “Hey, hey, hey, what? I think I missed something back there. Why do you suddenly think he's a Ministry spy just like that?”

The question confused me, and the two of us just stared at each other for a moment before I managed a hesitant, “I mean, isn't it obvious? The second he gets Amber to bring me up and show him a picture, he makes up some dumb excuse about thinking I'm cute so he wants to get to know me? Actually, I guess it's just as possible that it's that ambition thing you were talking about. He probably thinks getting to know me will help his career. You're right, it's probably not a Ministry thing. Thanks, I can deal with plain old ambition.”

I started to leave the room to head downstairs, but Izzy grabbed my arm. She was staring at me with an odd expression. “Cassidy,” she started before hesitating. It was like she didn't even know where to start. “You know it's possible that he just thinks you're cute, right? He said that before he even knew your name. Amber was just showing him pictures from school and he pointed you out on his own. Amber had to tell him who you actually were. It’s not like your image is famous enough for most people to even realize you’re that Evans at a glance.”

I gave a little shrug. “If he's ambitious, he probably found my picture ahead of time and was just waiting for it to come up or something. Our parents might do what they can to keep the paparazzi away, but it's not like it's impossible to find pictures if you really want to. Come on, we both know I'm not the kind of person that people actually point to a picture of and say, ‘hey, hubba hubba, who’s that?’ He has another angle. Maybe it's something benign and he just thinks I can help his career, or maybe it's something worse. Either way, no big deal right now. We'll figure it out when the time comes.”

Seriously, why was Izzy looking at me like that? It was like she really wanted to say something else, but couldn't figure out the right words. And before she could actually settle on something, the intercom buzzed with our mother telling us to head down because it was time to leave. So we were just going to have to set that whole conversation aside for the time being. Especially considering the last thing we needed to do was make our parents wonder about what we were so busy with up here.

Oh, and maybe, just maybe, I was excited about this trip. See again, trying to stow away in a suitcase when I was five years old. It was a big deal. I didn't care what else was going on or what the underlying secret reasons behind the trip might be. This was going to be fun, dammit. I wasn't going to let any of that other stuff ruin things. Not this time.

We headed out together, with Izzy even taking a moment to help make my own bag lighter. On the way, she asked, “Are we really taking a plane?” There was both nervousness and excitement in her voice, enough to make me smile. “I've never flown before. I mean, not like that. But I thought your parents used um, actual teleportation tech when they needed to get somewhere far away.”

I nodded. “When they need to get somewhere quick, sure. Teleportation is rare and super expensive, especially at the drop of a hat, and over long distances. But the way Dad puts it, when he's not in a rush, he prefers to put his feet up and relax. Doing it through teleportation is too quick. It's one step and then you're there. For a vacation, he likes to be able to take in the trip and enjoy it.”

Simon joined us on the stairs with an easy, “Yeah, and the fact that we don't have to sit around the airport for hours, or crowd onto the plane with a bunch of other people helps with that whole relaxing thing. Taking your own private plane really is the best way to travel. It leaves whenever we get there. No muss, no fuss. And no screaming babies.” His hand moved to noogie my head. “At least not for the past couple years since this one finally figured out how to shut up for awhile now and then.”

I scowled at him. “At least one of us figured out the shutting up thing. What's your excuse, big brother?”

Before he could respond, Mom came into view at the bottom of the stairs, raising an eyebrow at us. “Now, that can't possibly be my beautiful and so well-behaved children having an argument before we have even set foot out of the house. They must be reenacting a scene between some other children from one of those TV shows they like so much. Or possibly performing their own short play. Isn't that just like them?”

Blushing a little, I dropped my hand other than following through on what had been an attempt to punch Simon in the arm. I'd save it for later. “Hi, Mom. Time to get out of here?”

Before she could respond, it was Dad who answered while coming out of the nearby sitting room. “Absolutely. Let's get out here before one of these vultures decides it's worth it to put a blockade up around the house just to make us stay in town.”

Mom gave a soft chuckle at that, hand reaching out to absently brush through my hair. “They're simply glad to have you back, my dear. Our business associates have missed your insights and cunning. And who can blame them? They've suffered without for so very long. It must have seemed a cruel joke, to have you back only for you to announce your vacation so soon. Poor souls.”

Dad, for his part, simply shook his head and adopted a light tone. “Oh, but I’m afraid what they’re truly upset about is the loss of your creativity and drive. They're so angry with me for being the one dragging you away from the offices.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re both brilliant and your partners are totally gonna fall apart without you standing next to them for a few days. Millions will be lost, thousands out of their jobs, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria.”

My hand rose. “Is that when the ghosts take over?”

Heading for the door as the maid standing nearby turned it open, Dad took Mom's hand and replied easily, “If it is, then we really should get going. I don't want to be here when the giant marshmallow man starts stomping around. Can you imagine what that will end up doing to the traffic by the airport?”

So, we headed out to the limo that was waiting. We were going to the airport in style, apparently. Jefferson helped a couple of my parents' security team load their bags while Izzy and I put our own in as well. Then we clambered into the enormous car and settled ourselves in our seats.

As we started to pull away, I looked at my parents. “Just wait until next week.”

That made them blink, Dad raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly is next week?”

I grinned. “After we get my final grade for Drivers Ed, I can go get my license.”

I swear, Dad must have had some sort of Touched-Tech that allowed him to make himself pale that much. “I'm afraid we were wrong about the problems being over, beloved,” he informed my mother.

“Apparently the city is about to be in more danger than it ever has.”