Inchoate Blood (CRUX I)

12. new startings

{Chapter 12}

"Thanks for complimenting me," Eire grins giddily. "You know, how you said I'm different and all so pro cause .."

"Shut it," I drone, rightfully angry at her eavesdropping. "You weren't supposed to hear any of that."

Eire gives me a goofy wide grin. "But the vice-chancellor knew I was there so.."

"Yeah, that's because he could probably see you from the CCV cameras outside his office, street rat."

"Hey, take that back!" She sounds offended. "Before you were quite proud when you said I was some rogue. Aren't you dishonest?"

"Dishonest?" I regret why I even spoke of such good lies about her in front of vice-chancellor Arvind. "Whoever thinks 'rogue' is a compliment should be dishonest to themselves."

"I've lived on the streets ever since I was ten, unlike a certain elite someone, Mayson Cruz, so I think I can call 'rogue' a compliment," Eire comments, defending herself.

But I shivered when she said my name. "Don't ever call me that," I say.

"And you let some brunette stranger blurt it out in front of seventy people?" she prompts.

"That's... Wait, how did you know about what happened in the conference?"

"I have my eyes." Eire replies curtly, probably hiding the fact she has already sneaked access to all possible surveillance cameras in the Regime institute- or something crazy along the lines of that.

The bell rings for the last class and we part ways, Eire making her way to the classrooms, while I visit the canteen with my stomach grumbling for food. Thankfully there are not many people in the que since class just started for the students studying at the institute. I line up at the empty staff's que down the other side, when I feel sudden tap on my shoulder from behind. I turn around. Ah, who would know, it was Professor Lincoln.

"Fancy seeing you here." He speaks with an old British accent so thick it almost didn't sound English.

"Professor," I clear my throat a little, wondering why the hell he is greeting me in the canteen line.

"You must be hungry without your breakfast," he chuckles silently. "Though I have to say, I wouldn't think after all these years you'd still hide food into my classes."

"Oh, that." I happen to smile a little to myself just as well from the reminder of this morning. "Well, you can't blame a man hungry for breakfast."

Chuckling, he replies, "But it didn't stop you from falling asleep afterwards, did it?"

I look around out of shame. Professor Lincoln has always been one of my best professors. Old with only a few tarnished grey hairs, he pulls a look much younger than his actual age. And whether he is in class or outside on the streets, people always recognise him with his white laboratory coat and a turtle neck sweater, eyes wrinkled but unadorned by prescription lens.

After each buying our food from the canteen lady, we sit down at the staff's area with glass windows overlooking the courtyard. He takes a sip of his black coffee. "So, how's it feeling to be back?"

"Been great actually," I reply. "I'm going away tomorrow for a new assignment Arvind gave me and my partner. It's situated in Beijing, around nine hours flight from Denmark."

"Sounds like you're getting busy soon," he says, taking off the packing of his grilled beef. "Oh yes, where's Jett? I haven't seen him around lately. Is he still busy at the Consortium?"