Doppled in Gray [Discontinued]

Doppled in Gray [chapter nine]

CHAPTER NINE

“‘Ey, git the ‘ell up,” I hear in a harsh whisper along with a flicking at my forehead.

My eyes crack open and I am greeted by an angry brunette with a cockney accent. Zi keeps flicking my forehead until I slap her fingers away. Her pouty lips turn into a very unflattering frown.

“Didn’t you want to do agent training today at NOIDD? C’mon, get up!”

I look the other way. The soft fingertips of Haran’s left hand are comfortably under my bust keeping my body very close to his. His breath on the back of my neck makes me never want to leave but Zi’s very calculating eyes say otherwise.

Why not? I think. It may be hard but the chances I would actually become an agent were minimal. But strength training was always good.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” I say, waving her away.

“I’m waiting in my Beam-R so ‘urry up.”

I slip out of Haran’s arms tentatively as possible, trying to make sure he doesn’t wake up. After changing into a white hoversuit with yellow trim I run out—totally forgetting the fact that I would be faster in the air—and see Zi in a bright red Beam-R. This one isn’t jagged and rough looking like Haran’s. It is sleek and smooth, looking more like one of those dangerous sport cars from the old Original days. I smile widely and jump in, then we’re off.

It didn’t take long to figure out why so many people disliked Beam-Rs from Zi’s driving. She sped to the point that we broke the sound barrier. On the bright-side, we were there much faster, I just didn’t enjoy it quite as much.

Once there, Zi led me to the tenth floor where a small group of people, none older than thirty, were hanging around and talking.

“Captian is harsh with baneys so don’t get an attitude. I’ll be on Level 7.”

When Zi leaves I lean on a back wall, keeping my eyes out for everyone.

I keep to myself, even as a person comes to greet me. I am simply brief and polite, nothing more. When Captain comes in, I am surprised to see Haran right next to him, talking casually and sipping a drink. Whispers get lower but closer together when everyone notices him. I hear his name whispered several times but I don’t bother to wonder why. He is an agent, that is all. His eyes meet mine for only a moment but as soon as they do my eyes drop to the floor. And in that instance, unluckily for me, it is completely silent. Captain grimaces expectantly at Haran. I hear him murmur some inaudible word and after he does Haran’s eyes go straight forward, past all of us and any kindness that was ever there drains out of his face.

“Weclome baneys, to P-week.”

The man next to me, looking like he is in his early twenties leans over to my ear.

“Baney is an insult. And P-week means purgatory week.”

I give a tiny nod in recognition of his words and am about to whisper a word of thanks when Haran suddenly stops speaking and walks right to us. His eyes grate against our faces and then he faces the man directly.

“Who the hell said you could speak, Gollan?” Haran asks, displeasure dripping off his voice. I am about to protest when I feel a sharp kick of my shin, signifying it was probably best to shut up.

“No one, sir.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Captain resumes the speech about how this will test our minds and bodies even more than we thought possible. I consider leaving but the way Haran is looking at me makes me believe that he is counting on it and so I stay there, determined to prove that I am tough.