Their next two days off were neither fun nor especially relaxing. Now, whenever they visited the buffet, as often as not there was a soldier standing at the tables, poring over their whimsical requests, clearly hoping for something more familiar, like a hot dog, maybe, or a peanut butter sandwich. Kaitlyn soon realized there were only a handful of them. The same faces appeared again and again in different places, at different times, but still, it was odd to see any new people at all. And odder still that they were soldiers.
What was most unsettling, however, was that they never smiled—not like Miller, who would at least sneak her a wink now and then, and who would practice Muay Thai with Mackenzie or play lifeguard if they asked so they could enjoy a couple of hours in the pool. The new soldiers always looked serious, all the time.
They never spoke to the students, and they never seemed to be off duty. They never sat around chatting with each other. They never used the gaming room, which had stood empty ever since Rush had left, too painful a reminder of his absence. They did occasionally use the workout facilities, but even then they were on their guard, alert, never laughing or telling stories. Whenever they happened to run into each other, their greeting was nothing more than a subtle acknowledgment—a brief nod of the head, a quick glance that said, “I know you. You may go about your business. You are not a threat.”
Mackenzie, of course, was not fazed in the least. If anything, she seemed even more in her element, returning to her workout routine, practicing Muay Thai with Miller, and adopting the same air of professionalism and dedication as though she had been breathing it all her life—which, Kaitlyn supposed, she had been.
Kaitlyn was happy for her in a way. The soldiers clearly made Mackenzie feel more at home. But she couldn’t help feeling that her new friend was pulling away from them all, that the more time she spent in the world she had known before, the less she seemed like Grid, and the more she seemed like Mackenzie Gray: on task, serious, and guarded.
When they finally returned to the summoning room, there was yet another change waiting for them. Now, in addition to Miller, there was also a small table pushed up against the far wall, with metal legs and a durable, white plastic top, upon which sat a spray can, a small plate of food, a clean rag, and a bowl of water.
Looking more closely, Kaitlyn scrunched up her face at the food selection. It was clearly someone’s idea of what gryphon cubs might like to eat: some treats for house cats; two small, half-thawed fish; and a dead, skinned mouse, which Kaitlyn grudgingly had to admit was a smart choice, as it would appeal to both an eagle and a lion cub. But that didn’t make it any less disgusting.
“Let’s do this, people,” Mackenzie said, her eyes flashing with intensity. She was just as animated as the last time, but somehow today it came across as commanding, rather than merely enthusiastic.
“Aye aye, Cap’n Bligh,” Sam snapped back, offering her a sporty salute.
“This isn’t a game, Sam,” Mackenzie said, using her given name instead of her gamer tag for the first time since Rush had left.
“I never said it was, Mac,” Sam retorted.
“Today,” Ammu said, glancing from one girl to the other, “the intention is to entice the creature to interact with us. We hope to learn what it eats, and we would like to see whether paint can mark it effectively.
“The paint is only temporary,” he continued, holding up a hand to fend off Kaitlyn’s horrified expression. “Remember, we must find a way to counter something like the creature we saw in the video. We are here to save lives—not just of soldiers, but potentially of civilians as well. Even the lives of your own families. For some of us, these are one and the same.”
He said this last while looking pointedly at Mackenzie, and Kaitlyn realized that the change she had seen in her friend might not have anything to do with the soldiers at the ICIC. Mackenzie’s father was serving overseas, maybe even in Afghanistan as far as Kaitlyn knew, and just a few short days ago they had all watched a helicopter full of soldiers get killed by something this very program was designed to stop.
Like it or not, Mackenzie was right; this wasn’t a game. What they were doing could have life or death consequences for the people they loved.
“I’m ready,” Kaitlyn announced.
Ammu reached for the book, but she shook her head.
“I don’t need it,” she declared. “I have it.” And she tapped a finger lightly against her temple.
Ammu raised an eyebrow in surprise but left the book in his satchel.
“Ready?” Mackenzie asked, looking at Sam, who nodded back, at least somewhat appeased for being asked. Mackenzie then looked at Daniel and Sketch in turn, and they both nodded, too. Kaitlyn drew the circle on the floor, and Mackenzie chose their starting position.
“Count us in, Tick-Tock,” she said, meeting Sam’s gaze and adding, “when you’re ready.”
“OK.” Sam took a deep breath. “It’s go time. One… two… one, two, three, four.”
Despite the initial tension, their focus was clear. Kaitlyn’s runes glowed softly even as she traced them out, Sketch watching in fascination as the perfectly normal chalk in her hand seemed to be drawing in blue light on the floor. Daniel’s voice was even more confident today, and he sang rather than humming, the notes ringing out clearly in the strange, white room. When Sam stopped to look at Sketch, he was already nodding in confirmation.
“Letting it through,” Sam announced, and a few moments later, the gryphon exploded through the portal, braking immediately this time and flying straight up in the air, surveying the situation cautiously.
“It’s just us,” Mackenzie said softly. “Remember us? I know we upset you last time, but we want to make it up to you. Look, we brought you something. See?”
Moving slowly, so as not to startle it, she picked up the plate and placed it on the floor below the hovering gryphon cub.
“Give it some room, everybody.”
They all moved back toward the walls, trying not to frighten it. Even Sam stepped carefully out of the circle and backed away, crouching low as she moved.
The gryphon turned this way and that in midair, watching them all. When it was satisfied that no one was trying to grab it, the cub finally descended toward the plate.
It landed neatly, coming down on its hind legs and then using its wings to settle down gently until it was standing on all fours. It folded its wings into its sides and stretched its neck forward to examine their offerings, drawing in a few long breaths as though trying to smell the food through its beak.
“That’s unusual,” Kaitlyn whispered.
“For a gryphon?” Sam whispered back, her glance registering obvious skepticism.