As they closed in on the shiny glass façade of the administration building, Taylor slowed down a little bit.
“How do you know there are cells under there?” Taylor asked.
“I’m the wind. I’ve explored every inch of this place. Did you not know?”
Taylor shook her head. “No.”
“I assume that’s where Professor Nine is going to put me. They’ve already got Dr. Linda there and this mercenary bastard Alejandro.” Miki smiled. “I think Isabela kicked the shit out of him. That was cool of her. He was my Foundation contact. He really needed to catch a beating.”
Just like on the night that he’d spirited her away from the Academy, Taylor was surprised by Miki’s candor. In spite of herself, she was starting to like him.
“Why do you do it?” she asked. “Work for them, I mean.”
Miki exhaled through his nose. “Have you ever heard of the Nome Nine?”
“Is that like a tiny version of Professor Nine?”
He snorted. “Not gnome with a g. Nome with an n. It’s where I’m from in Alaska.”
“I’ve never been,” Taylor said.
“Yeah. Not many people have. It’s protected land for indigenous people. A few years ago, one of the big gas companies found a rich oil vein in the ocean just outside the boundary of our waters. My parents were actually convinced that they fudged the report and that the oil was on our land, but the government didn’t listen or didn’t care. They let the company go ahead with building one of those big offshore rigs, even though they always spill and even though my people relied on those waters for . . . well, for everything.”
Taylor nodded. “Okay? So did a spill happen?”
“Thing never got the chance to spill because my parents and some of their friends blew it up. The press called them the Nome Nine.”
“Oh,” Taylor replied. “That’s intense.”
“They got arrested like a week before the Mogadorian warships showed up, so the story didn’t really make the news. I was in foster care when I developed my Legacies. And that’s where the Foundation found me.” Miki swiped his hand through the air at the memory, flattening the grass up ahead with a burst of telekinesis. “This lawyer showed up and said he could get my parents out of prison, even though they were basically terrorists. Not only that, he said that he could prevent the gas company from coming back and rebuilding their rig.”
Taylor already knew how the story would end. “And all you had to do was work for them.”
“Bingo,” Miki said. “I didn’t know what the Foundation was then. There was barely even an Earth Garde or an Academy. I didn’t care whose side I was on. I just wanted to help my parents and save our home.”
Taylor plucked at a hole in her bulky snowsuit. She felt a little guilty for handling Miki so roughly.
“I probably would’ve done the same thing,” she admitted.
“Thing is, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my parents would have done in my position. Or what they would think if I told them about the deal I made.” Miki looked down at his sneakers. “I think they’d be pissed at me. So ashamed they’d probably insist on going back to prison. They’re that hard-core. I’m finally ready to do what my mom and dad would’ve encouraged me to do from the start. And that’s blow the whole thing up. Screw the Foundation. I’m done being their puppet.”
Miki’s story was a lot to take in. Taylor had been around a lot of liars recently, but he seemed sincere.
Moments later, they stood in front of the administration building. Professor Nine waited for them there, flexing the fingers on his cybernetic hand. He looked, as ever, like he wanted to punch something. He’d been wearing that sour expression ever since Switzerland and their run-in with his old friend Number Five. Taylor felt Miki shrink back from Nine’s look.
“All right, you,” Nine said, waving his hand at Miki. “Let’s see it.”
“See what?”
“You know what.” Nine snapped his fingers. “I heard you’ve been holding out on us, wendigo.”
“Oh, that.”
With an uncertain glance in Taylor’s direction, Miki transformed himself. One moment he was standing next to Taylor, the next he was gone—except not entirely. If she squinted, Taylor could still make out Miki’s particles as they swirled through the air. He looked like a small cloud of dust. A breeze now, Miki floated through the air around Nine’s head, before reappearing on the other side of Taylor.
“Cute,” Nine said, smoothing down his hair. “We could help you with that. Train you. Figure out what you’re capable of.”
“I know,” Miki said. “I’d like that.”
Nine clamped his robotic hand on Miki’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside.” He looked at Taylor. “Earth Garde wants to talk to you. They want to talk to all of us. I told them they can wait. You should get some rest.”
“Not yet,” she said. “There’s some other people I need to talk to.”
Nine squinted at her. “What? Who?”
Taylor nodded back at the student union. “My people.”
“Your people . . .” Nine raised an eyebrow at that. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind. Maybe we should talk it out first. Or, at least, I could go with you . . .”
“No offense,” Taylor replied, “but I think this is something we Human Garde have to hash out among ourselves.”
Nine’s lips compressed. That was the face the big lunk made when he was trying to figure out the angles. The self-appointed professor was more of a straight-ahead-hit-something type, but he was really trying to be more circumspect. To see the big picture.
“You aren’t going to incite a mass rebellion, are you?” Nine asked. “I can only handle, like, one of those a month.”
“They already know something is up,” Taylor said. “We can’t keep them in the dark forever.”
Nine thought this over. “I trust you,” he said finally. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”
Taylor went back to the student union. This time, she didn’t blast open the doors. Instead, she slipped in unnoticed via the side entrance. Everyone was focused on Kopano, who sat at a central table with a massive burrito bowl in front of him. They were all talking at once, so Taylor watched and listened.
“They told us you were taken away for your own protection,” Lisbette said to Kopano. “Was that not true?”
Taylor found herself taking stock of Lisbette. She was from Bolivia. She could create and manipulate ice. She was way more into using her Legacy to erect glittery sculptures than, like, stabby icicles, but she still showed good control. She could be useful.
“Uh, I guess that’s one way to put it,” Kopano replied. He shoveled some rice and beans into his mouth, using the food as a method of deflection. “Sorry, guys, I’m really hungry . . .”
“Gosh, me too,” Maiken said. “I’m always starving after I run.” She reached out and snagged some tortilla chips off Kopano’s plate, eating them at high velocity. “Seriously, though, Kopano, you have to tell us what’s going on . . .”