NOVEL NEXT Ch33.2 Xin: Touch (Scene 2)
11:15, February 23, 2295
Training Yard 40, Rooftop, Stardust Command, 1901 Patriot Way, Evanston, IL 60201, Terra Alliance territory
Xin's grip on the black training-purpose 10mm Magnum remained tight as the arctic bite clawed at his exposed skin. High above the world, he stood atop the skyscraper, where the snow turned to icy needles that lashed out with every gust of wind.
"Damn it," Xin muttered under his breath, his green hoodie drawn tight with a yellow jacket on top, a futile shield against the cold. Each pull of the trigger sent another bullet dancing off-course, mocking his efforts. His fingers, numb and disobedient, refused to steady the gun.
"Try again," Lorna stood beside him, watching his every move with sapphire eyes sharp enough to cut through the swirling blizzard. Unlike Xin, she seemed immune to the cold in just a blue turtleneck, her golden hair whipping around her face.
"If I may ask," he called out over the howl of the wind, "why outside?"
"The air's cleaner out here." Lorna's lips curved into a wry smile. "Manny tells me you might be Void-attuned. Interesting."
"He says it was just a joke," Xin replied, frustration painting his tone as another shot missed wildly.
"You're holding it like it's going to bite you." Lorna's voice cut through the arctic wind as she circled Xin like a predator. "What, scared of a little recoil?"
Xin's grip on the black training 10mm Magnum tightened, his fingers already numb despite the tactical gloves. Another shot went wide, missing the target by at least three feet.
"The wind—" he started.
"Is an excuse." Lorna stepped into his peripheral vision, her blue turtleneck the only splash of color against the white-gray cityscape. No coat, no gloves, just her and the elements. "You know what your problem is, Xin? You're thinking too much."
She snatched the gun from his hands before he could protest, spun on her heel, and fired three shots in rapid succession. Each bullet punched through the center mass of a different target.
"See that flag?" She thrust the weapon back at him, not waiting for him to be ready. "Fifteen mile-per-hour crosswind. You compensate by feel, not by calculating trajectories in that overthinking brain of yours."
"Easy for you to say," Xin muttered, raising the pistol again. His latest attempt clipped the target's shoulder.
"Oh, we're doing 'easy' now?" Lorna's laugh was sharp as broken glass. She tapped her Quantum Watch, and suddenly the targets began sliding laterally at varying speeds. "There. Easy mode's off."
"Buddha," Xin breathed.
"Buddha's not going to help you when someone's shooting back." She moved behind him, but instead of the gentle guidance he expected, her hands were firm, almost aggressive as she adjusted his stance. "Elbow in. Stop telegraphing your shots with that shoulder hitch."
Her breath was hot against his ear, a stark contrast to the freezing air. "You want to know the secret? Stop trying to be perfect. Perfect gets you killed. Good enough keeps you breathing."
Xin tried to focus, but her proximity was its own distraction. The curves of her body pressed against his back, and he could smell something floral—lavender?—beneath the sharp winter air.
"I notice you're not wearing your trench coat," he said, trying to regain some equilibrium.
"Observant." She didn't move away. "I grew up in Osl—" A pause. Her fingers drummed against his arm. "Somewhere colder than this. The coat's for protection, not warmth. Now stop stalling and shoot."
"You don't seem like someone who grew up somewhere cold," Xin pressed, curiosity overriding caution. "You're too—"
"Too what?" The pressure of her body against his increased slightly. Dangerous. "Finish that sentence, Xin. I dare you."
Her closeness was intoxicating, and he found himself melting into her embrace, their bodies pressed together like interlocking puzzle pieces. The scent of lavender emanated from her, etching this moment into his memory.
He swallowed hard and fired. The shot went wide.
"Pathetic." But there was amusement in her voice now. She spun him around to face her, one hand still on his weapon arm. "You know what? Let's make this interesting."
Her free hand found his hood and yanked it back, exposing his face to the biting wind. But before he could protest, her palm was against his cheek, incongruously warm.
"New deal," she said, and her smile was all predator. "Land three kill shots in a row, and I'll take you somewhere tonight. Drinks first. Then..." She leaned in close enough that he could see the snowflakes catching in her eyelashes. "Something hot."
The word hung between them, loaded with possibility.
"But if you miss," she continued, stepping back and crossing her arms, "you're buying. And trust me, I don't drink cheap."
Xin's pulse hammered. "Not exactly fair—"
"Life's not fair." She tilted her head, studying him. "You freed that android of yours, didn't you? Walked away from the Imperium? That took balls. So where are they now?"
The challenge in her voice sparked something in him. He turned back to the targets, raised the pistol, and for the first time since stepping onto this frozen rooftop, stopped thinking.
The first shot hit center mass. The second followed a moving target perfectly, dropping it mid-slide. For the third, Lorna had cranked up the speed, but Xin was already in the zone, leading the target just right.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
The bullet punched through dead center.
"Well, shit." Lorna's grin was genuine now, not the sharp-edged thing from before. "Looks like you might survive out here after all."
In the distance, a figure draped in a white winter coat approached. The elderly man stood there, with age lining his pale face, but each wrinkle seemed etched with purpose.
"Practicing in a blizzard?" The elderly man's voice carried despite the wind. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"
"Mine, Director Otis." Lorna's stance softened ever so slightly. "Didn't expect you before noon."
"Concern leads us to odd hours, doesn't it?" Otis quipped, his attention fixed on Lorna, the furrow of his brow belying the levity of his tone. "You should be resting today, Lorna. That scar on your face has yet to heal."
"Extended day-offs don't suit me," she retorted, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Besides, there's work to be done."
"Very well, but remember to take breaks," Otis now looked at Xin. "The data you've brought to us is appreciated, Mr. Wu. But there are jobs with better pay and less danger in Alliance lands."
"Sir. SIMU is where I want to be. Just signed a lease for an apartment south of Chicago, too," Xin replied, his breath forming a cloud before him.
"Is it now?" Otis's hand, cold and firm, found its place on Xin's shoulder in a gesture that belied the solemnity of the moment. "This will only take a moment."
"Psionic scrying, I bet. The Director likes to do that," Lorna said casually as she placed one hand on her waist.
"Vacuus, aspectus Infinitatis," With a voice low and resonant, Otis recited an incantation, his fingers tracing patterns of verdant psionic energy that seemed to draw heat from Xin's skin. "Futurum revela."
Xin felt each syllable vibrate through his bones. As the final word lingered, a shiver raced down his spine. Otis's eyes, deep silver gray wells, widened. Yet, his posture remained stoic.
"Seeing anything in there, sir?" Xin ventured, curiosity gnawing at him.
"Some truths are too weighty for young shoulders," Otis intoned cryptically, releasing Xin from his grasp.
He turned to Lorna. "Diego has cracked the Crystal's data. You'll ship out for Osram within the week."
"About time." Lorna cracked her knuckles. "I was getting bored shooting at stationary targets."
Otis's gaze shifted between them. He nodded once, slowly. "Continue his training, Lorna."
"You bet I will," she replied, nodding with confidence.
"You have one month — a probationary period, if you will — to prove your mettle." Otis turned to him now, his voice carrying gravity. "Diego has decoded the Moondust Crystal's data and stored it on his StarWhale. Join the team as they chart a course for Osram."
"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best," Xin said, the words hardly enough to encapsulate the swell of pride within him. He extended his hand, but Otis merely nodded, leaving the gesture hanging.
"We will speak again." With those parting words, Otis turned, his figure retreating into the swirling snow.
After Otis left, the rooftop felt suddenly emptier, the wind sharper. Xin holstered the training pistol, flexing his numb fingers.
"Don't let him get to you." Lorna moved closer, but there was something predatory in her approach. "Director's got trust issues. Comes with the job."
"I wasn't—" Xin started, but stopped when she kept advancing, backing him up until his thighs hit the safety railing.
"You're shaking," she observed, tilting her head. "Still cold?"
Before he could answer, she closed the remaining distance, pressing against him. But this wasn't a gentle embrace—it was possession. Her arms locked around him, trapping him between her body and the railing, and her hair, a golden cascade, brushed against his cheeks, filling his senses with the essence of sunlight captured in her strands. The 10mm somehow vanished from his hands; he hadn't even felt her take it.
"Here's what I've learned about guys like you," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear while snow swirled around them. "Smart. Careful. Always calculating the angles." Her grip tightened. "Must be exhausting, living in your head all the time."
Xin's pulse hammered. The warmth of her body was overwhelming after the cold, the scent of lavender mixed with cordite. His hands found her waist almost involuntarily, feeling the solid strength beneath her turtleneck.
There was something else beneath the lavender—something that should have been off-putting but wasn't. The sharp, salt-sweet tang of exertion clung to her skin, a reminder that she'd probably been training before he arrived. His analytical mind knew he should find it unpleasant, this mix of perfume trying to mask the reality of a body that worked hard, that fought, that didn't apologize for its strength.
Instead, it hit him like a drug.
The contradiction of it—delicate floral notes tangled with something rawer, more honest—made his head swim. She smelled like someone who could kill him with her bare hands but chose to wear perfume anyway. Like violence wrapped in femininity. It was intoxicating in a way that made no logical sense, and maybe that was the point. His body knew something his brain didn't, responding to some primal signal that bypassed all his careful programming.
This is insane, he thought, even as he found himself breathing deeper, chasing that scent like an addict. She shifted against him, and a fresh wave of it hit—lavender and sweat and something uniquely her that made his mouth go dry.
"I don't—" His voice cracked slightly.
"Shh." She pulled back just enough to study his face, her blue eyes unreadable. "You freed that android. Walked away from everything you knew. That took guts." Her thumb traced along his jaw, the touch surprisingly gentle. "Or maybe you're just really good at running."
"Huh. Which do you think?" Xin managed, acutely aware of every point of contact between them.
Lorna's smile was slow, dangerous. "Jury's still out." She shifted slightly, and suddenly her thigh was between his legs, pressing him harder against the railing. "But you interest me, Xin. And that doesn't happen often."
For a moment, they stayed frozen like that—her studying him like he was a puzzle to solve, him trying not to drown in the intensity of her presence. Snow collected in her golden hair, little crystals that caught the light.
"You know what your problem is, though?" she said finally, her voice softer but somehow more dangerous for it. "You think too much. Always analyzing, planning." Her hand slid down to rest over his heart. "Sometimes you just need to shut up and feel."
"Is that what you do?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Something flickered across her face—there and gone too fast to read. "I do whatever keeps me alive." She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing his ear. "And right now, what I need is a drink."
Her fingers found his Quantum Watch with ease, pulling up the holographic interface without breaking eye contact. She typed one-handed, the other still pressed against his chest, holding him in place.
"The Quantum Pour. My favorite dive." The holographic text glowed between them: '1820 Maple Avenue, Evanston, IL 60201'. "9 PM. Don't be late."
"I won't," Xin breathed, still trapped between her and the railing.
"Good." But she didn't move away immediately. Instead, she studied him for another long moment, something almost vulnerable flickering in her eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by that sharp smile. "Fair warning though—I don't do gentle. Find another girl if you're looking for hand-holding and sweet nothings."
She released him suddenly, stepping back, and Xin had to grab the railing to keep from swaying. The cold rushed back in where her warmth had been.
"Wear something decent," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs. She paused at the door, looking back with a grin that promised trouble. "Bring condom if you want!"
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Xin alone with the wind and his racing thoughts and blushing cheeks. He stayed there for a moment longer, gripping the railing, feeling the phantom pressure of her body against his.
"Buddha help me," he muttered, touching the spot where her hand had rested over his heart. The metal was still warm.