Sarah Phoenix Chronicles: The Dremius Competition Read online
Sarah Phoenix Chronicles:
The Dremius Competition
By JC Boone and KT James
Copyright © 2014 by JC Boone
All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1 A Complicated Interview
Chapter 2 A Painful Journey
Chapter 3 Welcome to Dremius
Chapter 4 Meeting the Team
Chapter 5 Team Training
Chapter 6 Following a Mystery
Chapter 7 Dangerous Secrets
Chapter 8 Henry's Upgrade
Chapter 9 The First Competition
Chapter 10 Finding and Losing Friends
Chapter 1 A Complicated Interview
Rain from the deluge last night made a hundred little puddles in the dank alleyway where I found myself crouched behind a smelly refuse cart next to Jacob. At least, it was Jacob on the inside. These days he was looking pale with a long nose, but last week he had olive skin with wide green eyes. It caught me by surprise every time he changed, but after a few minutes of looking into those eyes, I could see my old friend again.
“Hey, wake up,” Jacob hissed, water dripping from his nose. He tapped my shoulder and motioned behind us over the cart. “Take a look,” he whispered.
I eased my back just a few inches up to peek over the cart of fish bones and rotten cabbages. Yep, he was still there: a North Scentinelle guard, stationed in the mouth of the alley and looking almost right at us. I quickly plopped back into the puddle I'd been sitting in.
“No good, he's still there.” My whisper sounded loud to me and I flinched, hoping it hadn't echoed. It was no use wishing for help. The ragged people passing by were more likely to turn us in for the reward money than give us shelter. I didn't blame them; no one wanted to be on the bad side of the NS guards. Life expectancy was short enough on these outer islands.
“You have to do it.” Jacob motioned with his hands, a sweeping circle that meant something to only the two of us. He wanted me to control a memory. It was something I had practiced but never gotten to work. I gave him a grouchy look. The last time I had tried that, we had both gotten mugged by a gang of kids, and he had woken up with a black eye. “Please,” he mouthed.
I blew out a stream of air, which instantly turned to white fog in the chill predawn air, and set my back firmly against the fish cart. My eyes closed, and the palms of my hands lay relaxed, fingers curled open on my knees. I could feel the wet of the puddle seeping into the legs of my boots but pushed the thought away gently.
Jacob tensed alongside of me. I knew what he was seeing: the tendrils of grey smoke wrapping around my legs and pooling into my hands. Through these puddles of smoke, a memory stepped out and into our reality. A full-sized NS guard, complete with net gun and rifle, walked from behind the fish cart and towards the guard at the alleyway entrance. I could hear their conversation. It was something I had pulled from the guard’s own memory, something that had happened only a few minutes ago.
“Jake, we got a report from Central Command,” The memory guard said to him.
“Yes sir.” The alley guard snapped to attention. The memory guard circled him in a very authoritative fashion, and the alley guard simply stood looking straight at the brick wall of the alley.
So far so good; it seemed he had taken in the memory and was reacting to it normally.
“A thief has been spotted on this island, and it is your duty to root him out and deliver him to Central Command for sentencing.”
“Aye, sir!” The alley guard looked around with a watchful eye.
Alright, that was the easy part: replay an old memory and get him to buy into it. That was something I did every day... and I was really good at my job. The next part, changing the memory into something that had never happened... well, that was when things got really tricky. I tensed my jaw and willed the memory to change.
“Jake, one last thing...” The memory guard hesitated. I pushed harder at it. “The thief you're looking for... is a … is an old...” I held a vision of an old man, crippled and walking with a hunch towards the memory. “The thief... man... cripp...” Suddenly the memory began to fade. The alley guard snapped back to reality and shot a deadly look at our cart. He began to walk swiftly in our direction with his rifle aimed steady.
“Okay, bad idea. Let's run for it,” Jacob said as he shouldered a heavy cloth bag, the shiny North Scentinelle badge on it gleaming like a beacon, and prepared to tip over the cart. I put a hand on his knee. He spun and realized I was still holding the grey smoke in one hand; it gently curled in and out of my fingers. I nodded to him. He dipped his hand into the smoke, and it disappeared past his wrist. In a second he had pulled back out a forearm-sized weapon: the memory guard's net gun.
Jacob smiled wide. “Will you marry me?” I shoved him, and he spun to face the alley guard who had just walked around the cart. Both guns went off, but the net gun caught the rifle first and tilted it up to shoot a hole in the brick wall inches from our heads. The guard went down cursing as we tore off through the streets, weaving our way back to my place.
#
We dodged most of the morning hustle. The fish market got started at sunrise, and the sky had only just begun to turn a silvery blue on the horizon. Our feet made loud splashing noises as we careened through the cobblestone roads. Two grizzled, old men hauling a net full of squid through the street paid us no attention at all. Marta, her aged and wrinkled face scrunched up underneath the yellow rubber hat she always wore, gave us a scowl.
“Slow down! Stinkin' kids always kicking up a fuss,” Marta grumbled and slapped a few more slabs of yellow fin onto her rickety wooden tray.
Blue and white awnings hung limp and wet across the fish sellers’ stalls. A few had fallen down in the storm; they twisted and spun in the chill breeze. I pulled my arms across my chest as we ran and tried to ignore the chatter of my teeth. Jacob turned quickly to the side of a stall and hunched down under the awning. He pulled me inside with him.
“Here, take this...” He slipped out of his heavy jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. I shook my head and tried to give it back. “No, you're smaller than I am; you've got to be freezing. Put it on.”I did and was instantly relaxed by the heavy fabric that was already warmed by his wearing. Jacob put one finger to his lips, motioned for silence and peeked above the stall. He slunk back quickly and his eyes widened. In a moment, the sound of thick boots raced passed us. I counted: must have been five extra guards. They really meant business this time. I looked at Jacob and widened my eyes at him. What did you take now?
He shrugged his shoulders and mouthed, “Sorry.”
We waited for just a minute before taking off in another direction. If the guards wanted us that badly, we would have to take our chances and travel near the docks. I hitched the larger jacket tighter and ran close to Jacob.
The fish market stalls disappeared, and the click of the cobblestone road gave way to the hollow th
ud of wooden planks. The dock swayed slightly underfoot and crunched with frosted sea spray. The line of fish processing factories bustled and groaned to my left, while on the right, their product was coming in from the sea.
The morning catch had just come in. Several low boats anchored next to the docks, and workers passed up great nets and barrels of open-mouthed fishes, sucker-covered octopus, and clacking-shelled oysters. We slowed down to avoid too much attention.
I looked around for any signs of the NS guards who might have followed us. Jacob had a tight hold of the bag tucked under his arm with the emblem safely hidden towards his hip. He stared intensely at each dock worker we passed. His eyes glazed a bit, and he leaned dangerously close to one of the fisherman, staring blankly at him.
“Jacob!” I hissed under my breath and jabbed him with my elbow.
He came to almost instantly and shook his head, combing a trembling hand through his unruly hair. He gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders.
“Just not getting enough sleep, I guess.”
“You were zoning out again,” I pressed him. This was getting serious. “I thought you said it had stopped happening?”
“Watch yourself!” A large boy came up from under the wharf and rammed into Jacob which sent him crashing into the side of the nearest building. A cackling laugh broke out among three other boys who appeared from nowhere to stand next to him. We were probably all about the same age, but the boys had a rough look to them which made them seem much older. Their eyes were cloudy and angry, their faces marked with scratches and dirt. I stepped up to the biggest one and gave him a shove.
“Leave off, we're just passing.” He looked at me with a snarl, his messy, yellow hair sticking up in patches, and I backed up next to Jacob.
“Ya hear that boys? They was just passing.” A few snickers passed between them. “Anybody who's anybody knows you don't walk the docks without paying a toll.”
I looked sickly to the dockworkers and fishermen unloading their catch. None of them glanced in our direction. Cowards.
Jacob stood toe to toe with the big one, staring straight into his eyes and breathing slowly. He wasn't as tall but he stuck out his chest and held his NS bag back away from the other boys’ searching hands.
“Come on... give it here,” the boy shouted. Jacob leaned back to me, dropped the bag into my arms and held his hands open. His arms had started to shake.
“I don't have it... go bother someone else.” Jacob's voice cracked and changed. The other boys closed in around us.
“Not smart... that was seriously not smart,” one of the smaller boys with light red hair and freckles said in a wheezing voice. He cracked his knuckles in a menacing fist. We were trapped.
I held the bag close to my chest. At this point, they were going to pound us even if we turned over the bag, just on general principle for having disobeyed a direct order. I split my focus between the wheezing freckled boy and the other two, who must have been some sort of twins. Their faces both had the same dark eyebrows, almost connecting in the middle, and they each had a similarly broken nose.
Jacob's shoulders shook slightly. He was just a few inches from me, and I felt the tension in his muscles build. My left arm dropped slightly, and I placed my hand inside Jacob's hand. I hoped that the gang of thugs would just think I was scared and wouldn't notice the grey smoke intertwining our fingers. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander through the freckled boy's memories. I needed something fast.
“What's it gonna be? That bag.” The biggest boy pointed to the duffel still clutched in my arm. “Or the girl?” One of the twins yanked my hair back, and I let out a shout of pain.
“Neither,” Jacob growled as he whipped his hand away from mine. Wrapped in his fist was a gleaming brassy metal. It had wicked-looking edges that covered his knuckles. His fist struck out and caught the biggest boy just below the ear. It was a solid punch that knocked his jaw to the side. He crumpled like an empty can and dropped to the ground.
I tried to make a run for it, but the twin who'd yanked my hair was faster. He pulled on my jacket sleeve and spun me to the ground. I could hear Jacob scuffling with the other two boys but couldn't see how he was doing. From the sounds of the shouting, I figured they were about even.
The twin pulled and grabbed at the duffel bag, but I clutched it to my chest and lay flat to the ground on it. His breath stunk of cabbage and cigarettes; suddenly his weight lifted off my back. I rolled to escape. A shout caught my attention, and I looked up: there he was, flying through the air towards the ocean.
I looked back to the dock and saw Jacob, his arms still pointed over his head where he'd tossed the boy. I scrambled up to stand behind him and counted all four boys spluttering and cursing in the frigid water. More than a few of them had new cuts and bruises.
“What happened?” I asked, glad that it was over but not really sure who had helped. None of the dockworkers had moved a muscle during the fight.
Jacob didn't move. His back was still tense, and he stood silently watching them swim away. I tapped his shoulder and spoke louder.
“I said, who helped?” He turned instantly at my touch and the rest of what I had meant to say was lost in a gasp. Jacob's face was a mask of rage and anger. His eye was swollen, and his lip was red with blood, which made him look even more menacing. I took an unconscious step backwards. “Jacob?”
He didn't respond.
“Jacob?” I said again but he didn't seem to notice. “Snap out of it!” I yelled with a quick punch to his arm. It wouldn't have hurt him, but he blinked as if I had just slapped him awake.
“You alright?” he asked, eyes drawn together in deep concern. I nodded and he grabbed the duffel bag from my arms. “Let's go, we're almost there.”
We stomped down the rest of the dock without incident, but I still searched for danger everywhere: from behind us where the NS guards might still be chasing, from the wharf where more gangs could surprise us and finally, I kept one eye on Jacob... just in case.
#
I'm Sarah Phoenix and I can take you back in time, whether it’s the bittersweet memory of your past love, the beautiful red dress that caught your attention in a shop two years ago, the smell of rain on April 4, 1990 in South Scentinelle or what he told you on that one unforgettable day 20 years ago. Relive your wedding day in vivid colors, and remember the exact emotions, thoughts, tastes and smells, as if you were experiencing it all over again. I can even take you as far back as witnessing your own birth, the day when it all began.
Do you wonder what it feels like to be a pilot for North Scentinelle Air, or to be Veronica Thompson when she won best actress award, or Jon Smith... the genius? You can experience them all through the memories of those willing to share them. Yes, I mean share. Imagine generations of future North Scentinellers seeing the world through their ancestors’ eyes and experiencing how they thought and felt in their times. Imagine how connected they would still feel to their origins. How great would it be to get to know people intimately in the past and present through shared vivid memories?
I want to help people achieve their goals, whether it is to rekindle an old romance, celebrate friendships, remember a person who has passed on or simply remember an important password. Sky is the limit.
Dremius and I share the same vision: the future, built in a bright city made up of good memories.
This was supposed to be my opening speech, as I presented myself to the Everdeen and her panel, the representatives of a North Scentinelle company called Dremius. I didn't have much chance of getting in but I had to try. Their instruction was to prepare a speech so that we could sell our abilities to the company. There was just one problem. The closer it got to becoming a reality, the more nervous I was. The corner of my eye twitched just a bit, something it's done since forever when I get nervous, and I scrubbed at it with my free hand. With the other, I lifted a wad of damp cloth off Jacob's bruised and swollen right eye. The cold compress had gotten warm again.
“Sounds great,” he said as he clapped dramatically and whistled quietly through his split lip. “They are going to love you. They'd have to be insane not to.” I paused in between wringing the water out of the cloth and scanning my handwritten letter; so much rested on getting this job. “I wish... if they were here...” My voice was quiet but Jacob knew what I meant.
“Your folks, wherever they are... well, they're proud of you.” He reached out and squeezed my hand. “You get that big fancy job, you show everyone what you can do, and, who knows, those people up there have amazing technologies. I'm sure they can figure out what happened to your folks, why you can't remember.” I shrugged my shoulders and tried to give him the impression that I didn't care in the slightest what had happened to my disappearing parents. Memories of my mother stopped at a certain age as if a giant eraser had just rubbed her out. I could sometimes recall what her hair looked like, or very briefly, her face when she smiled but nothing more. My father: that was easier—he left. I remember seeing him wave to me. He had a kind smile and then that was it; he just walked away. All I knew was that he was looking for something. Buried deep in my heart, I hoped that this job would help me put together those missing pieces, but I didn't want to worry Jacob with it.
“What I want to figure out, Jacob Nealson,” I said, trying to change the painful subject, “is why you're still having those episodes.” I waited for his answer while I walked to the sink and got another cold compress. This one must have stung a bit because he winced dramatically when I put it over his eye.“It's a good thing I did; we would have gotten torn to pieces by that gang.” He tried to smile but his split lip bled a little, and he winced again.
“Jacob, that's not funny,” I reprimanded. “Those bullies deserved what they got, tossed into the ocean with bruised heads, but whatever is happening to you is dangerous... you almost didn't stop.”