Heart of Obsidian

another appointment next month to discuss the forecasting services required by your company.”
    Steepling his fingers, the not-nice man turned his head toward the boy whose name was Kaleb. “Go. Behave yourself.”
    To Sahara, the words sounded like a threat.
    Walking with Kaleb around the grounds, Sahara pointed out the things her father had told her she must point out to a guest. “Such independent social interaction with non–family members is an important part of your education,” he’d said. “If your backsight eventually leads you to a career in Justice, you’ll need to interact with a wide range of personalities, both Psy and not. I’ve told Anthony you’re ready to act as a guide for those of your age and slightly older.”
    Sahara was pretty sure the boy called Kaleb fell outside that age group, but Anthony probably didn’t have any choice but to use her since the older children wouldn’t get out of school for another hour.
    She was telling Kaleb about the hydroponic garden when she glanced up and saw fine lines radiating out from his eyes, bracketing his mouth. “My father’s an M,” she said. “We can go see him.”
    Kaleb stared at her with eyes that had lost their stars. “Why?”
    Sahara was sure he had a hurt somewhere, but she knew it wasn’t polite to say things like that to someone she didn’t know. So she said, “He has interesting scanners in his office.”
    “I’ve seen medical scanners before.”
    Figuring Kaleb wanted to see his own medic and not a stranger, Sahara said, “Okay,” and kept going . . . only she didn’t walk as fast, and she didn’t take him up the slope to the recreation center the grown-ups used for exercise. If they went there, the manager would want Kaleb to try the new machines, and she didn’t think he should while he was hurt.
    “There’s fish in the pond,” she said, after they’d covered all the areas visitors were permitted to view. “Do you want to see?”
    Kaleb followed her in silence, but he went down on one knee to watch the orange fish in the pond in the center of the park within the NightStar compound. “Why was this created?”
    Sahara barely stopped her shrug in time. Someone of her age, she’d been told multiple times, should’ve already conquered the habit. “I heard Father say it was an ‘approved meditation aid,’” she parroted without quite understanding the words. “The F-Psy who live here use it.” Her cousin Faith didn’t live in the compound. She had a separate house, like all the really strong foreseers.
    “Are you an F?”
    “Not really. I’m subdesignation B. That means I have backsight.” It wasn’t as interesting as being an F, but Sahara thought she might like catching bad people for Justice. “What are you?”
    “A Tk.”
    Excited—though she tried not to let it show, in case he told on her—she said, “Can you do any tricks?” One of the telepaths in her class had just a tiny bit of Tk and she could write on the electronic board without moving from her seat in the class; the teachers made her do that so she’d practice her telekinesis.
    Kaleb didn’t say anything and it took Sahara a few seconds to realize she wasn’t touching the ground anymore, her body floating several inches off the grass. Eyes wide, she stood up, her feet on nothing, then, checking to make sure no one was watching, jumped up and down without ever hitting the ground.
    “That was wonderful,” she whispered when he set her down, then felt bad she’d forgotten about his pain. “I’m sorry. Did it hurt you to do that?”
    Shaking his head, Kaleb played a finger through the water of the pond, making the lazy fish pretend to move. “Your Silence is flawed for your age group.”
    Suddenly aware she’d forgotten to fake Silence because he was nice even if he didn’t talk a lot, Sahara bit down on her lower lip. “Are you going to tell on me?”
    “No.”
    And he never had, Sahara thought, sitting on a corner of her bed, her back braced against the wall and her arms wrapped around her knees as she thought of the boy with such haunting pain in his eyes. Instead, he’d taught her how to be more careful . . . and he’d visited her.
    “Hello.”
    Surprised, Sahara looked up from the wide stump where she sat. No one ever came this way, her home backing onto a stand of trees that ended at the perimeter fence. Pretty cardinal eyes in an expressionless face met her own.
    “Hi!” Knowing her father was busy in his study