Ex-Isle Peter Clines (read e book txt) đź“–
- Author: Peter Clines
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He joined her in the kitchen. She’d been cutting vegetables for a salad. “Exactly nineteen?”
Stealth nodded. “Cesar and Lieutenant Gibbs each realized within four weeks and have helped keep her secret. Mayor Linhart contacted me seven weeks ago expressing his own worries. Gayle—”
“I believe you.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. She turned her head and their lips met.
She looked up into his eyes. “How did Billie Carter respond to the requests?”
It took St. George a moment to find his footing in the conversation again. “Not bad, all things considered. She’d wanted more scavengers up there, so asking her to lose one so Gibbs could go didn’t exactly thrill her. But she gets it, too. She pulled the guy with the mohawk and the beads under his skin.”
“Benjamin Kim.”
“Yeah.”
“This arrangement bothers you?”
He shrugged and plucked a slice of hard-boiled egg from the salad. “It’s a little weird to have most of the Unbreakables heading up there. They’ve made the Big Wall a lot more secure.”
“I am sure Captain Freedom and I can manage for one week with three hundred and twenty-four regular guards.”
St. George pushed the egg into his mouth. “We have that many now?”
“Not counting the twenty-five now assigned to Eden, yes.”
“What if something bigger happens?”
Stealth tilted the salad bowl and split it between two plates. “There has been no sign of Legion since the destruction of Cairax Murrain.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s gone.”
“It does not,” she agreed, “but this absence has now been three times longer than any other. We know his abilities allowed his consciousness to travel as far as Yuma. Perhaps he has gone farther.”
“Maybe. It just feels weird that we haven’t seen anything from him. I mean, not a thing.”
“Your concern for our enemy is touching, even if it is unwarranted.” She gifted him with another tight smile and picked up the plates. “The glasses, please.”
“Of course.”
They walked to the table. He raised his glass. “Thanks for making dinner.”
She bowed her head. “It may be our last night together for several days. I knew you would want it to be memorable.”
He leaned in and kissed her again. “You know who surprised me with all this? Cesar.”
Her fork pinned a tomato to the plate. “In what way?”
He shrugged. “I figured he’d look at this as his big chance to go solo, that he wouldn’t want Danielle looking over his shoulder. But he looked really happy that they’re all going.”
Stealth raised her fork. “I believe his joy comes from the hope of another sexual encounter once they are somewhat isolated.”
“Really?” St. George swallowed a mouthful of water. “With who?”
“With Danielle, of course.”
“What?” He blinked. “Wait…another encounter?”
“There were at least two, but no more than four. Danielle has since ended the arrangement. I do not believe there was anything romantic between them, although I believe there was a risk of Cesar becoming infatuated with her had it continued.”
“Are you spying on them?”
Her eyebrows shifted as she stared at him. “I do not spy on anyone, George. I observe and deduct.”
“But you’re sure they’re sleeping together?”
She set her fork down. “One observation was during my night patrol of the Mount three months ago. I heard a cry and investigated.”
“And it was…Danielle?”
“It was Cesar. I believe that first encounter was brought on by her own frustrations with her condition and by three bottles of ale. I do not know what instigated the other encounters, but I would presume a degree of familiarity was a factor.”
St. George loaded his fork with salad. “Okay,” he said. He set the fork back down on his plate.
She looked at him. “I did not think this knowledge would bother you so much.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, it’s a little that. She’s, what, ten or fifteen years older than him?”
“Thirteen. Only two years more than the difference between Gorgon and Banzai.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. “But, no, I was wondering if this is such a good idea after all. I mean, do we want to risk any…complications up there.”
“There will be none,” Stealth said. She picked up her own fork. “There is also little chance of Barry learning about it.”
St. George coughed. The temperature in his mouth shot up and wilted a piece of lettuce on his tongue. He swallowed it anyway. “You know about that?”
“As I said, I observe and deduct.”
“Wow.”
She raised an eyebrow. “This surprises you?”
“No,” he said, “it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“Have we become a couple that talks about their friends’ relationships over dinner?”
Her mouth formed another tight smile as she sipped a bit of water.
“Well,” he said, “in the interest of fairness, then, I guess I should throw my own grenade on the table. Something I’d like to bounce off you, anyway.”
“Please do.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, and when Barry and I head out to this boat-island, Madelyn should come with us.”
Stealth impaled two spinach leaves and a small piece of egg yolk. She looked at him as she raised the food to her mouth.
“I’ve got a couple of good reasons,” said St. George. “She barely ever gets out because people still don’t feel comfortable around her. She deserves a chance to be outside and feel like she’s contributing.”
The fork speared another leaf and a tomato wedge.
“It gives us a third set of eyes out there. And people tend to disregard her, either for her age or because, well, they’re not used to an ex who can think. So they might be a lot more honest around her without thinking about it.”
“The Corpse Girl is not an ex-human.”
“Everyone here knows that,” said St. George, “but no one out there does.”
Madelyn’s father, Emil Sorensen, had been the mind behind Project Krypton’s super-soldiers. But St. George and Stealth had learned he’d also treated his daughter with experimental nanotechnology to cure a childhood ailment. It had cured her disease and made her the picture of health. After she was killed and
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