Sonya grinned and stood up. “You’re so incorrigible, Tao. Of course they were rigged. Wait until the Keeper finds out how you’re using your stipends. Anyway, get up.”
“For what?” Roen yawned.
“For your workout. I’m putting you through your paces today.”
Roen sat up and stretched, and then plopped back into bed. “Tao and I have an agreement. I’m off on Saturdays.”
“That’s because your butt is mine on Saturdays from now on.” She tapped her wristwatch. “You’ve got five minutes before I drag you out in your jammies. I mean it.”
Roen watched her walk out of his room. Immediately, he hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom; he took extra time to use mouthwash and comb his hair; he also sprayed on cologne.
You are going to calisthenics, not prom.
“You never told me the other agents were so hot.”
The last time I saw Sonya she was ten. Her mother was a host; she and I used to work together. I am glad she had a peaceful transition. Sonya is a fourth-year host, but has known about us since she was a child. She has already spent many years preparing for her ascension with Baji, so she is quite advanced. You would do well learning from her.
Ten minutes later, they were outside jogging down the street. Late April in Chicago was a bit on the soggy side. The ground was wet and a soft layer of mist rested on the city. The sun was just rising from the horizon, and an orange haze bathed the streets in a warm glow. A touch of cool wind blew in from the west that stirred the newly budding leaves.
Roen had lost twenty pounds since Tao had first put the hammer down on his diet and lifestyle a short month ago. Gone were the days of frozen foods, burgers, and chips, replaced by celery, carrots, raw spinach, and pieces of chicken so small he could eat them in one bite.
He hadn’t gotten around to purchasing new clothes yet, and his once-tight jogging clothes wore loose on him. Sonya gave him a look and promised to take him shopping.
“Toward the lake?” Roen asked as they warmed up.
“Someplace new,” she replied and turned north. Roen shrugged and followed close behind.
“How long have you been at this?” he asked as they jogged through the quiet streets.
“Running? I like to do the marathon here every year if the missions allow for it,” she replied. Already, Roen had a difficult time matching her pace.
“No, I meant this Quasing thing.” He was already starting to breathe through the mouth. There was no way he could keep this up for long. Thankfully, Sonya noticed and slowed down.
She spoke without any hint of trouble. “I knew about Baji since I was little. Mother used to work closely with Edward. She decided early on to not hide any secrets. By the time I was ten, I knew I wanted to follow in her footsteps and have been training ever since. When she developed cancer a few years ago…” Her voice trailed off. “I had to continue her work.”
“I’m sorry,” Roen said after a pause. Still uncomfortable with women, he often drew blanks speaking to them. Sonya being attractive did not help matters. “Do you think these Prophus can be trusted?” he asked. “I mean, Tao told me some stories about what they’ve done, and I can’t help but feel like a puppet dancing on their strings.”
It is all right. Just pretend I am not here.
She beckoned him to turn off the path onto another street. “It’s true that they have influenced our evolution, and as a result terrible things have happened, but there’s been good as well. The Prophus might have caused a few wars, but they’ve been responsible for peace too. Baji once was the Quasing for Franz Ferdinand, the Archduke of Austria-Este. He was in the process of trying to reform and stabilize Austria-Este with all its ethnic groups when he was assassinated. Sadly, had he lived, the First World War might have been avoided. It’s difficult to determine where humanity would be without Quasing influence. For all we know, if it wasn’t for them, Neanderthals could be ruling the world.”
“Didn’t Franz Ferdinand cause World War I?”
“His assassination did, courtesy of the Genjix. They wanted the ethnic tensions to continue in the region and were in control of the monarchy. It goes in hand with their belief that conflict breeds innovation. Look at the unmitigated disaster that followed his death.”
“I guess.” Roen was not convinced. “Where’re we going, by the way?” This was obviously not a random jog.
“We’re close.” She pointed ahead. “Just down the block right off Lake Street.” They stopped in front of a rundown warehouse with a Morimoto Chocolates sign at the front, and she led him to a side door down a small alley. Roen studied the building; it didn’t look like any chocolate place he’d ever seen, though he kept his hopes up. The window panes were darkened and smudged, but looked to be in good condition. The door was rusty and weeds grew from between the cracks on the sidewalk. Above them, the elevated train tracks rumbled as a train passed by overhead.
“Come on, what are you standing out there for?” Sonya called from inside. “We have a lot to do; my report says you needed to be field ready yesterday.”
“Report? What report? Who are you reporting me to, Tao?”
Your mother asked me to keep tabs on you.
“That’s a very mature thing to say.”
Stop taking yourself so seriously, Roen.
He followed her into a small dark room. How much did she know about him? The small room was the size of a walk-in closet. There was a large metal circular door that looked like a bank vault on the far wall. Roen studied the shiny steel surface of the hatch and then the rusted surroundings. Something wasn’t right. Sonya fiddled with several buttons on a small panel and then the hatch rumbled and hissed open.
“Safe house CW12,” she stated as she walked in and turned on the lights, “your new training center.”
Roen followed her and looked around in amazement. The interior looked nothing like the exterior. They stood on the upper floor of a two-level warehouse that seemed impossibly larger inside than it appeared from the outside. There was a running track along the edge of the upper floor that opened to a workout area on the lower level; assorted weight lifting machines littered the main gym floor with rows of dumbbells stacked on one side; there was a boxing ring in the center and a firing range on the far side. The near corner had what seemed like living quarters, including a kitchen with a television. There was also a bank of computers next to it. Everything seemed state of the art.
“What is all this?” he asked in a small voice.
Start memorizing these locations. They could save your life one day.
“It’s one of our safe houses. We have a few in every major city; completely self-sufficient and always stocked with supplies. This particular facility is masked as a storage warehouse for cake mix. Passcode: 93276 and your voice imprint.” Sonya walked to the weight station. She turned to him and patted the bench. “You ready?”
Roen’s eyes grew wide. “Ready for what? Lifting? I don’t think I have ever touched weights before.”
“I can tell. You’ve lost a fair amount of weight already, but unless you plan to run away from every Genjix you meet, you’d best pack on some muscle and learn a stiff jab.” She pointed a finger at him and beckoned him closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll spot you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, you look tough and all, but you’re a little thing.”
“Oh?” There was a glimmer of a challenge in her voice. “Care for a little wager? We’ll start light, twenty-fives on a side. Loser pays for dinner.”
Roen lay down on the bench and looked at the bar over his head. “Dinner? Sure!” Truth be told, he was willing to pay her just to have dinner with him, but at least this didn’t sound so desperate. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered.