Chapter 5: New Recruit
Both Tracker and Red stood at Antoinette’s door again next morning. She smiled at them, enjoying their attention. As they walked to the cafeteria, Tracker said, “I won’t be able to meet you for lunch today. Colonel Carfield wants me to help the police track down a fugitive.”
She looked worried. “Will it be dangerous for you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. The subject isn’t reported as violent. I should be back this afternoon.”
Red chuckled. “Great, I’ll have you all to myself at lunch.” She gave him a brief, preoccupied glance.
After breakfast, they escorted her to Mentalism. At the door to the wing, she paused. “Tracker, take care of yourself.”
He nodded. “I will. I’ll see you this afternoon.” She hugged them both and went in.
”‘allo, Doctor,” she said as Doctor Carter looked up.
”Hello, Miss Duval. Please, sit down.”
”Thank you, Doctor. Ah, may I call you Steve?” she asked.
”Certainly, Antoinette.”
”That would be very good,” she said.
She was hard at work some time later when the wall com startled her. “Duty Team to the Briefing Room. Repeat, Duty Team to the Briefing Room. Defender under fire.”
She looked at Doctor Carter, apprehension in her eyes. “What does that mean, ‘Defender under fire’?”
”It means one of us is being shot at,” Carter said. “The Duty Team, the team of Defenders on active call, is being sent to help.”
”Ah, non. Tracker!” she exclaimed, her hand going to her lips.
Doctor Carter shook his head. “He’s not the only Defender out on assignment. And furthermore, we can’t do anything about it. Let’s make this a lesson in concentrating under pressure.”
She nodded reluctantly and bit her lip, then forced herself back to work.
When she left the Mentalists, Red was nowhere in sight. She sat in the Plaza and watched people hurry by. The loneliness and anxiety that had been held in check by Tracker’s constant presence and Red’s flattering attention rose up and engulfed her.
All these people, known and valued by each other, leave me feeling like an outsider, she thought. They are friendly but nothing more. Red is attentive, but he is interested in my body only. I like him. I will probably share my body with him one night soon, but it will be a casual affair. Tracker? I like him, too, but I do not understand him. I do not think he understands himself.
I am being childish, she chided herself. I have been here only six days. Of course no one knows me yet. As with any affair, to have meaning, both must work hard, spending much time at it. But nonetheless, I am lonely. It is hard, being outside a family and looking in, and wishing to be part of it. I wish just one person here cared deeply about me.
Just as she thought this, Walter walked over. “Hello, Ms. Duval. How are you doing?”
”Please, call me Antoinette, Walter,” she replied. “I was waiting for Red to take me to the cafeteria for lunch, but he does not seem to be coming.”
”Well, Red is a little irresponsible,” Walter said condescendingly. She frowned, not liking to hear her friends belittled. “Come on, I’ll take you to the dining room instead.” He held out his hand. After a moment, she took it and rose.
They sat at one of the tables and Walter signaled a waiter to serve them. The waiter carried a pair of menus and quickly laid two place setting on the table as they perused the selections. Before she could make her selection, Walter placed the order for both of them and dismissed the waiter off-handedly.
“How is your training going, Antoinette,” he asked after the waiter left.
”I have not yet started to work out in my animal form,” she said. “I think Tracker will be working with me, as well as Scott. I wonder what Tracker can do? His fur feels good.”
”Tracker was built as a scout; primarily in espionage and reconnaissance but also as a secure messenger. He’s extremely good at what he does,” he added. She frowned again, hearing, beneath the praise, a hint of a sneer.
”Do you not like Tracker?” she asked.
”He’s okay, I guess. We aren’t friends or anything, but then I don’t think he’s friends with anyone. He’s kind of cold and aloof; holds himself apart when not on a mission. Not really my sort,” he snorted softly.
”Do you know what I do?”
”Non.”
”I’m a shapechanger, like yourself. I can change into bear, wolf, panther, and mouse forms; able to perform a wide variety of missions.”
”Ah, so many forms. How do you keep them all straight?” she asked.
He smiled expansively. “You learn with practice.”
”Tell me of your experiences as the shapechanger.” Soon she had him talking about his adventures. She listened with flattering attention, as her mind ranged across her own experiences at the base but noting that he sounded even more boastful than Red, in a superior sort of way.
Noting that she was due back in Mentalism, she excused herself after lunch and returned to her testing.
”Sorry to abandon you, pretty lady,” Red apologized as he and Tracker joined her after her session in the Training Room that evening. “I’m on active duty this week, and the Duty Team had to leave in a hurry. Did you get my message?”
”Non, what message?” she asked.
”Damn! No one’s told you about the Message Center? You can leave messages there for other people. I left a note for you. Sorry you didn’t get it.”
She smiled at him. “That is not your fault, Red. Thank you for trying. What happened?”
Red grinned. “Tracker, here, found the fugitive. That one may have been non-violent, but the three guys he joined up with weren’t. They had rifles and started shooting.” She gasped and clutched Tracker’s arm. “Being no fool, Tracker dove for cover and called in. Then, while the police kept them pinned down and he kept them busy wasting bullets, Sarah, Jerry and I got behind them. Nothing to it, really.”
”I am so very, very glad neither of you were hurt!” she said as she hugged each of them.
”Just doing my job,” Tracker replied as he glanced anxiously at Red.
Red grinned. “A welcome-back like this makes being scared worthwhile,” he declared. He returned her hug with interest.
”You were scared?” Antoinette asked, eyes wide.
”Of course. All it takes is one armor-piercing or rocket-assisted slug to make an ordinary rifle a whole lot more dangerous. Getting over-confident gets you hurt.”
”He’s right,” Tracker said.
She studied them for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you. I will remember that.”
”Good,” Red said. “School’s out. Let’s eat and then go play.”
They went with her to the dining area for supper, then Red led her to the game room, accompanied by Tracker. “I want you to see something,” he said as he began strapping himself into an array of thin light metal tubing.
”What do you do?” Antoinette asked, fascinated.
”It’s an exoskeleton,” Red replied, working his hand into a glove. ?“It’s designed to make you feel like you’re actually in the game.” He pointed with his gloved hand at a screen in front of him. The figure on the screen pointed away from him. “Everything that I do is imitated by the guy on the screen. Once I’m ready, the computer will start throwing bad guys at me and I have to take them out.”
She watched with interest as he pounded the first enemy into submission while dodging flying objects. After a while, he paused the game and turned to her. “Want to try it? It’s real easy to handle, and we can start you out at a much easier level.”
After a few moments of Red’s prodding, she allowed herself to be strapped into the exoskeleton. Red chose a female figure for her and set the game level on Beginner. She racked up a nice score for her first time, but after a few minutes, she hit the pause button and began unstrapping herself.
”Why?” Red asked. “You’re a natural at this. Don’t you want to try the next level?”
”Non, I think not,” she replied.
”Why not?”
”It is machine, it is not people,” she said. “For me it is not fun. I would rather go to the lounge and talk with the others.” She linked her arms through theirs and started for the lounge.
