Project Z

Chapter 2 - Austen - Earth

Streaks of pink and orange bled across the pool's surface as Austen dove in. The water was ice against her skin, so cold it nearly stole the breath from her lungs. But not quite. She'd forced her body to get used to it by now.

She propelled herself forward, the muscles in her arms and back burning as she cut through the water, the chop of waves beside her urging her to move faster with each breath. Her feet slammed against the wall as she flipped and turned, every inch of her body perfectly tucked and pointed to optimize her path through the water.

The tang of chlorine filled her head until all she could see was the white of the water; all she could hear was the gasps of breath echoing in her ears. Everything zeroed into this stroke, this kick, this turn.

Just three more breaths.

The muscles in her arms screamed.

Two.

She kicked her legs harder, faster, slicing through the water with vicious efficiency.

One.

She slammed her hands against the ledge and stood up, gasping for breath, and turning her head just in time to see a second set of hands land on the concrete beside her.

The man's towering form rose, water dripping from his heaving chest and the graying hair now stuck to his forehead.

Austen grinned. "I win."

Her father let out a breathless laugh and propped his hands on his hips. "You've been training without me," he accused.

She shrugged and leaned against the wall, sinking down until the restless water skimmed her chin. "Maybe you just got lazy."

He scoffed and scratched at the stubble appearing beneath his chin. Her father was a handsome man, she supposed. He definitely didn't look his age, and unlike the other men in their family, he still had a full head of hair. His light skin was barely wrinkled, except for the lines around his mouth. His face was just round enough to give him that ever-present air of innocence, though if you looked closely enough, the sharpness in his eyes made it clear that he missed nothing. Constantly calculating, analyzing, documenting. A predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

Sometimes she wondered about her birth father, if his eyes had been as expressive as Governor Malaki's. She couldn't picture his face anymore. Not clearly, at least. Just the outline, the dark tint of his skin, the wide build of his frame. Everything in between was a blur.

She blinked back to the man standing in front of her. "We could do a rematch if you want to prove me wrong," she teased, splashing him.

But he didn't retaliate. His smile dimmed as he glanced at the rising sun behind her. Wordlessly, he hoisted himself out of the pool, and an attendant appeared in his usual all-white uniform, a matching towel in his hands.

Her father nodded in thanks and roughed the cloth through his hair. "Another time."

Austen pulled herself out of the pool and the attendant reappeared to hand her an identical towel. She wrapped it around her body as the cold morning air assaulted her skin. "You have to go?" she asked. "Already?" It couldn't be much past five.

He was already on his cell phone, hurriedly scrolling. He glanced up, regret pinching the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Bug." He leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of her head before hurrying back towards the house. "I will take you up on that rematch tomorrow though!" he called over his shoulder.

Austen squinted after him, pursing her lips. The four stories of windows were dark, save for a single room on the first level: her father's office. The sunrise reflected off the glass, painting the entire back of the mansion varying shades of pink.

She could probably guess exactly what had him rushing back inside.

She hurried after him, hands clutching the towel just under her armpits, shoulders tense against the cold. The house was quiet when she stepped inside.

She trailed her father's wet footprints, but instead of following him upstairs to change, she veered left to the kitchen, where one of the assistants had turned on the coffee pot. The room was already full of the smell as it rumbled to life.

Just as the clock ticked to 5:30, Austen heard the soft click of the front door. So soft, it was clear whoever was coming in was trying not to be heard.

She shuffled to the kitchen entrance, her bare feet silent against the wood floor. Securing herself behind the wall, she waited until the stranger passed, but he didn't so much as glance her way. He looked the same as all the others—tall, plain. His dark suit perfectly pressed. He headed straight down the hall, a clear destination in mind, and disappeared into her father's office.

The secret meetings had been happening more and more lately. At first, they were only once every few weeks. Then weekly. Now almost daily. Despite Austen's many creative attempts at eavesdropping, she'd had minimal success. Aside from brief mentions of the space stations and Earthern Emperor Tague, she hadn't managed to piece together much.

What made today strange, even stranger than usual, was the man in the suit arrived at the house in the morning. All the others had shown up in the middle of the night.

The coffee pot beeped, and she hurried across the kitchen to shut it off, water dripping from her swimsuit as she went. When she turned around, her mother was standing in the doorway.

Austen startled and steadied herself against the counter. "Hi, Mom."

Elle Malaki leaned against the doorway and considered her daughter over the massive island. She wore a red silk robe with lace trim, her dark hair artfully piled atop her head. She looked pale. Paler than usual. "You're up early," she observed.

Austen poured the coffee into her favorite mug, black covered in tiny white stars, and feigned innocence. "Same time as always. Dad and I just finished swimming laps. I do need to go shower to get ready for school though—"

Her mother frowned, the expression odd on her face since her forehead no longer moved with her continuous string of elective surgeries. "Didn't your father tell you? We're all staying home today."

Austen opened and closed her mouth before setting her mug down. "What do you mean?"

"You father wants the whole family to stay home today. Trust me, it's for the best." She swayed over to the counter and plucked a grape from the large fruit bowl at the center. "Besides, who doesn't love a day off?"

Austen narrowed her eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course!" She flicked her wrist as if the question were ridiculous. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"But—"

"Just stay in the house today," she snapped. Austen stared at her in silence until Elle straightened, popped the grape into her mouth, and headed back down the hall. Austen heard the click of her father's office door close.

And then:

Silence.

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