Generation 3

Part Eleven

Moses could hardly shift his gaze from the dark eyes even to manage a proper introduction. He faintly registered a voice that sounded like his--though he didn’t recall relaying to his mouth what to say--mutter a greeting. He was slightly amazed that he had remembered to use his assumed surname with his mind still reeling at the appearance of the boy.

 The kid in his dreams had been much younger and looked more helpless, whereas the boy in front of him, Jaxon Sable, had to be about Moses’ age, and seemed like he could take care of himself. His dark black hair hung low around his shoulders, framing his angular face well.

Jaxon turned to speak to the boy behind him. If he had introduced himself already it had fallen on deaf ears. It was only now that he found himself becoming more situated in reality. Now that he wasn’t face-to-face with the eeriness of recognizing a complete stranger from a dream; a dream in which that same stranger had betrayed and killed him.

“Moses?”

“Er…I’m sorry,” He looked up to see Isaac’s brown eyes staring at him. “What’d you say?”

“I was asking,” he stretched the word with a notable hint of annoyance, “if you’d like to see something HD?”

Isaac had spoken as if HD television was some wondrous new invention, instead of the century old method of broadcasting causing Moses to raise an eyebrow. “HD, umm…I think I’ll pass, that stuff always looks super ancient to me.”

“Not in HD, Smartie. ‘HD’, like something ‘cool’, ‘new’, or ‘above average’.” Moses still didn’t quite get it and the look on his face must have made that apparent because Isaac just shrugged. “I can’t think of the word right now, but I’ll explain it to you some other time. Trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

“Wanna see what?” The kid with the glasses and slick hair asked. The two were done with their whispered conversation.

“I thought Moses would probably like to watch last year’s Finals with us.” He smiled at Moses. “You know they say it brought in the highest ratings of all time.”

“And what would make you think that he would want to watch that?”

“We were talking about it last night. Moses mentioned that he’s never seen one. He didn’t even know they were broadcasted. Why are you looking at me like that, Blaze?”

Moses had noticed the look too. It seemed the more Isaac talked, the more his eyebrows seemed to furrow together. His eyes were obscured by his glasses but Moses was almost sure that they were tight with anger.

“No offense, but don’t you think it’s a little foolish to bring him into a team meeting and just let him watch the Finals with us? It’s a week before the actual Final’s for this year, our healer has just disappeared, and then this guy pops up all curious about them and getting buddy-buddy with you.”

“Are you trying to say something or just reviewing what happened this week?”

“We’re the team that has the best chance of making it. Everybody knows that. We have—had 3 Bloodlines and Jaxon Sable.” Jaxon turned his head as if he hadn’t heard the flattery. “It stands to reason that someone might want to sabotage us to get us out of the way before we even get started. I think he might be a secret agent.”

Moses stiffened a little. Although he was on the wrong track, he had somehow still got off at the right station. And Moses’ cover would be completely blown if he could convince the others that he was a secret agent. He hadn’t even lasted a day yet.

“I’m sorry—did you just say secret agent? Have you been smoking again? Cause you’re sounding really conspiracy theory-ist? Remember when you said you thought that Soop powers had been passed on by weed at some time in history?”