Noah Langford - September 2120
"How's it going?" I lean over the edge of the trap drop behind my lab.
It was originally intended to be a storage room. That had been the justification, at least.
There's shuffling somewhere below, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy falling over. There is a pause, followed by a quiet, heartfelt, "Shit."
Finn appears a second later, craning his head up at me. His dark-blond hair, face, and clothes are uniformly coated in dirt and dust, as if he's been excavated rather than digging. He pulls his goggles off and pushes them up into his hair.
"I think I'm close," he says.
The goggles have left two clean ovals on his face. The contrast is striking enough that my brain logs it as data before humour. I turn away slightly, covering my mouth with my hand under the pretence of a cough.
"That's good" I say. "Everything looks like it's going to plan."
Finn reaches down and pats the dust from his trousers, creating small clouds that drift lazily back into the pit. "You know," he says, "it could be quicker if you helped as well."
I look down at him, allowing myself a small smirk. "But you're exceptionally good at this sort of thing, I would just get in the way."
He squints up at me. "You just didn't want to dig anymore."
"Well, I wouldn't be lying if I said my arms hurt." I roll my shoulders in an exaggerated show of fatigue.
That is technically true, but it is just not the primary reason.
The real reason I stopped was GeneX.
I needed to be seen there. My father values visibility more than productivity, which is illogical but consistent. I assumed I could show my face, spend a short, measurable amount of time in my lab, and return home. Instead, a security guard was waiting outside the house to ensure I made it to work and back for my "safety".
They noticed Finn's absence immediately. There was confusion, brief but observable, until I explained he was sick. Once illness entered the equation, their interest evaporated.
"I told you we should train more," Finn says now. "But you said no."
"That's because you kept trying to kill me."
"Or," he says, smiling, "because you felt ridiculous and undignified."
I narrow my eyes at him. I dislike when people remember my words accurately and throw them back at me.
"Anyway," I say, changing the subject "I've made lunch. Come out."
I gesture toward the ladder.
Surprise spreads across his face in a way that is exaggerated enough to be performance. He clutches his chest dramatically. "The Noah Langford making me food? I should dig tunnels more often."
I roll my eyes. "If you don't want it, you can stay down there."
He laughs, immediately abandoning the bit, and I hear the ladder creak as he climbs out.
We walk out into the garden, where the picnic bench waits beneath the tree. I arranged the food earlier with unnecessary precision.
I sit first, pulling the napkin onto my knees and Finn comes around the bench, stops short when he sees the spread, then laughs again.
"Oh, I knew it would be too good to be true," he says, sitting opposite me. "Where did you get all this?"
There's no point pretending. Deception is inefficient when the truth costs nothing.
"The tapas bar down the road."
He hums approvingly, already reaching for a dish. In front of us is a selection of foods I know he likes. Foods that require minimal effort to eat. Foods that will replace the calories he's been burning at an unsustainable rate.
He eats like someone who underestimated how hungry he was. That, at least, is familiar.
I pick at my food, watching him between bites. He's almost finished the tunnel. It only took a few days of work, which means he's been pushing himself hard to get it finished and I feel guilty for pushing him so hard.
"So how's it been at GeneX?" Finn asks.
I place my napkin neatly on the table before answering. The action gives me a fraction of a second to organise my thoughts.
"Surprisingly quiet," I say. "Since I completed the nullifier, most of the immediate pressure has evaporated." I pause, then add, "However, my father has been appearing less and less."
Finn nods, already following the implication.
"Do you think he's going after Kai?"
The question lands harder than it should. I swallow and look down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with my eyes as if it might rearrange itself into a different answer.
"Most likely."
Since discovering Kai is alive, my thoughts have developed an unhelpful fixation. I run simulations constantly. Where he right now?, Is he safe?
I want to be closer to him. That is the simplest truth. But proximity would be inefficient, for now.
Staying at GeneX, pretending ignorance, maintaining access to systems, that is where I can do the most damage quietly. Once the tunnel is finished, once we can leave without my father noticing, I will go to the school, to Kai.
"What should we do?" Finn asks. The concern on his face is unfiltered.
"As long as my father can't track us heading to the school, he won't find Kai," I say. I keep my tone level.
"How do you know that?" Finn presses. "He's got an entire Special Division behind him."
I don't answer immediately.
Something clicks. A small alignment of data points I hadn't consciously connected yet. When it does, I stand abruptly and head into the house.
Finn's confusion is immediate, but he follows without protest. He's learned that when I move like this, explanation comes later.
In the kitchen, I open my laptop where I left it earlier and begin typing.
"Noah?" Finn asks, quietly this time.
I navigate through directories, bypassing layers of security that have long since become familiar obstacles rather than deterrents. When I find the file I'm looking for, I turn the screen towards him.
CONFIDENTIAL
Test Subject: 004
Gender: Male
Power: Shadow Manipulation
Status: Unknown
Location: Unknown – Missing in Action
Cause of Death: TBD
Last Updated:July 2120
Finn reads it then his expression shifts, the humour draining from his face.
"Is this Kai?" he asks.
I nod. "Yes."
The variables line up too cleanly to ignore. Shadow manipulation. Escape from the facility, consistent with the timeline Kai described.
I tap the date on the screen. "This."
"July 2120?" Finn says, frowning.
"That's the last time the file was updated," I say. "Which means Kai has been unaccounted for since then."
I lean back slightly, letting the implication settle.
"My father hasn't found him," I continue. "Not once. Not even when Kai stepped foot inside headquarters."
"He still hasn't been captured. Still hasn't been tracked." I pause. "That tells me two things. First, Kai is better at staying hidden than the Special Division is at finding him. Second…"
I trail off, then finish the thought.
"My father doesn't yet have a reliable method to locate him."
Finn exhales slowly. "So you think he's safe?"
"For now," I say.
The weight of it settles between us and we lapse into silence.
Then my phone vibrates.
I take it from my pocket and exhale slowly before answering. Finn watches me with the kind of attention that suggests he already knows the outcome will be inconvenient.
"Father" I say.
"Noah. The board wishes to speak with you. Today." His voice is composed, sharpened to a professional edge. "I've sent someone to collect you."
The call ends before I can object. Typical.
I stare at the darkened screen for a moment longer than necessary, then drag a hand through my hair.
"Everything okay?" Finn asks, stepping closer.
"Yes," I say automatically. Then I correct myself. "The board wishes to speak to me... Today."
That alone is sufficient cause for concern.
I turn away and retrieve my jacket, slipping it on with practised motions before pulling on my shoes.
"Do you want me to come?" Finn asks.
He's been unsettled all week, ever since he stopped accompanying me to GeneX.
I shake my head. "No. You need to stay here." After a beat, I add, "He's sending someone to pick me up."
Almost on cue, the door buzzer sounds.
I pause with my hand on the handle, then look back at Finn. His concern is unguarded.
"I won't be long" I say.
I do not specify whether that is reassurance or a prediction.