Harsh Lessons by L. J. Kendall Read Free Book Online

moved.
    But in the end, when neither she nor Uncle had done anything else, the drones had bracketed them again.  One had pincered up the pieces of her uncle's restraints, while the other had begun humming much more loudly, making aggressive little darting motions to herd them on .  It'd made her want to punch it.
    They'd led them on through more automatic doors, tunnels, and stairs – mostly down – and finally along a cold, damp stretch of passageway cut through stone and smelling of earth.
    The drones had paused at a metal wall at the end, where a door had opened onto a bare concrete room.  Inside, four sleek black arthrobots the size of dogs had faced them, bulging with energy pods and weapons .  Behind them, an apologetic young man introduced himself as “Little Brother.”  He'd blushed as he'd urged them not to upset the anti-personnel bots.
    His eyes had lit up when the flying drone had dropped the sliced-up hood and cuffs into his hands .  It had been like she and her uncle had vanished, as far as he was concerned. After examining their damage, he finally seemed to remember they were there.  He looked at her with such fascination she'd felt somehow embarrassed.
    But he'd just welcomed them to the Accounts Department's “back entrance” and then led them inside to a first meeting with Mother and Father.  One at a time.
    Finally, Father had handed her her timetable, and she'd studied it for a minute.  'Why aren't there any actual spy lessons?'
    Mother had pursed her lips.  Mother pursed her lips a lot , actually – almost every time she'd asked her something, in fact.  Like Mother thought she was just a child.
    'Oh, you mean the bomb defusing courses, do you?  And jet piloting?  The nerve pinches, no doubt; and how to guess passwords in three tries?'
    Leeth had nodded, excited, only realizing Mother had been making fun of her by Father's reaction.  She felt her face heat, just at the memory.
    Standing up, she crossed to her dressing table, taking up the old padlock she'd found all those years ago at the Institute.  She smiled, remembering her eight-year-old self's plan to learn to pick locks, to recover the evidence of her sneaking around in the ceiling spaces.   Except she never had worked out how to pick it .  At least here, I'm sure to be taught how to do that.
    She put it back down, still smiling, then lifted the heavy wooden block she'd started carving, mainly just to enjoy the sharp feeling always waiting at her fingertips.
    She turned it over.  She wasn't sure what it was going to be, yet.  Something with swooping lines.  Maybe a dolphin.  Something simple; her invisible claws seemed better at killing things than cutting things.
    But she didn't feel like practicing her control right now; practicing how to keep the… desire to cut , shiver ing at her fingertips.  She put the hardwood back down beside her deadly black PowerShot, and started pacing her room, feeling cooped up all of a sudden.  She wanted out.
    She poured herself a glass of filtered, chilled water.  Gulping it down, her stomach growled.  There was a food dispenser in the Recreation Room.  And she was a member of the Department now.  So they could hardly object if she looked around.
    Oh!  I can go exploring!
    They'd already explained that only doors she was allowed to go through would open for her.
    So I'm totally allowed to explore!  I wonder how hard it'll be to sneak past their security?  She chewed her lip.  Probably even worse than Jax's upgrades at the Institute, that'd ruined years of work.
    But that thought only depressed her: made her remember Jax's betra yal.  Of her, and Uncle.  Getting them arrested.
    She missed Faith.   Who was still back there, missing her .  Which made her think about Godsson again and the problem of how to convince people they really ought to let him go?  That was gonna be tough.  Everyone thought he was mad.  Which he was; kind of .  Just not that mad.  He wouldn't hurt