We were in Portland in Oregon, standing in the backyard of Suarez’s cottage. The silhouette of its slate roof was sharpened against the light of the silvery and overcast sky. The air was suddenly warm, compared to the cold of Russia. My focus was fixed upon the off-white wooden planks of the wall. It was losing paint in small flakes. It must have been Rosario’s repeated insistence that her father explain what had happened that forced me back to the present. We were standing over black earth covered in some places with freshly fallen cherry blossoms that had been blown from beneath the trees behind us. I looked at Suarez. His hand was on the girl’s shoulder; he was telling her to be quiet, he would explain soon. Her upturned face held innocence, and an equal portion of gullibility. Yet perhaps he would truly tell her. And this would change nothing. She would soon be made to forget.

He turned to us.

“Thank you.” There was shame in his voice; it choked his words and repressed the fire his expression usually held. “Had I chosen to tell your superiors the truth and let them handle the rest, things would have turned out differently. I know that now.” He tried to hold my gaze with his. The sincerity was evident. “But you must understand, I did not believe I could trust you. It is not easy, neither is it wise to place your trust in anyone. You of all people should know this, considering the kind of work you do. But in the end I was proven wrong; you both proved yourselves worthy of my trust, placing the lives of my daughter and myself before your own, as if we truly are worth your protection. Thank you.”

We listened, all three of us, yet were not eager to make a reply, as Suarez might have thought we would. There was, in truth, nothing to say, no words of wisdom to impart. Suarez had withheld information from the ones who interviewed his case, causing the superiors of Escort to believe his dilemma would be solved easily with the aid and protection of two Telekinetic escorts, therefore we had been selected as his bodyguards. Suarez and I had almost been killed because of his simple yet costly mistake. But this had happened before in various ways, and always our lives would be endangered trying to protect people who did not have love in their hearts for us. Our superiors did not care that our lives were in danger, only that we were earning their money. This was the truth of things, one that we had all accepted and would continue to accept. That we had been treated as beings not worthy to know the situation from the beginning was a familiar territory to us. After all, all agencies possessed secrets and deception. It was the way of the Gifted world.

We nodded, Orion and I, to demonstrate our acknowledgment of his heartfelt apology.

Agent Scott retrieved a cell phone from his coat pocket. He dialed a number, handed it to Suarez, and told him he was being transferred to a Red Tape agent, one who would confirm that he and his daughter had returned safely under our protection, and that we had done all we were supposed to do. This was done, and he went on to speak one of two codes that only he knew. One code would let the Level One agent know that he was being held under duress by us, which could have been the case, as this had happened with agents and their targets in previous times, agents who had wanted their salaries but were not willing to work to their fullest potential for them and threatened their targets to say they were satisfied with the outcome of the mission. The other code would tell the agent that he was truly satisfied, that all was as it should have been. If he had not been satisfied, Intelligence agents would have been sent to him immediately to solve the matter, the ending of which would have included our punishment in ways we did not want to imagine.

While ribbons of his words passed along my ears, I continued to consider things in a trancelike state. Perhaps his wife was inside the house worrying her way into insanity over the loss of her daughter and husband. Perhaps she was elsewhere, not wanting to be in her own home for fear that whoever was involved with the disappearance of her family would also be after her. But Suarez and his daughter Rosario would find her. If he loved her he would feel compelled to tell her all that had happened, how he had to do what he did. Afterward if she loved him still they would run away to another part in the world, knowing it would be best for them to stay away from both Kremlin and the CIA, even if both organizations eventually lost interest in them. They could not remain in America. They would have to begin a new life elsewhere, whether they wanted such a life or not. All because Suarez had chosen to open a package he had received in his office. If he had chosen to leave it where it was, perhaps all that had happened never would have.

I wondered of the life I would have been living in that moment, in that point in time, if I had chosen to force Orion out of my house and force Taurus and memories of Athena out of my life forever. Perhaps I would have been dead, killed by Intelligence agents, my body hidden in the cold earth or cremated by a Pyrokinetic Gifted.

But as I listened to him go over in a business-like tone the particulars of transferring the second half of Taurus’ fee for his protection into their account, I knew I was certain of one thing: now that the agency had their money, Suarez and his family would be left alone despite the protection that they would surely need while hiding away from their pursuers. Our sympathies, it was often said, could be extended as far as our salaries could take us, and no farther. Taurus would, however, request the people of E to erase the memories of whoever they believed was not suitable to retain memories of our existence. I did not doubt that Rosario would forget all of what had happened in the next twenty four hours. She would never know she had been abducted. Perhaps her mother, Suarez’s wife, would also forget that her daughter had been abducted.

Then again, they could all be dead by the following morning, killed on behalf of Kremlin or the CIA because their knowledge had labeled them liabilities. Suarez knew this, he must have thought of this even as he spoke into the phone’s receiver, just as he knew he would have to face what was to come, with or without protection.

Agent Scott had been watching my expression. Upon realizing this I gave a look of challenge, but this was forgotten, whether with ease or effort I did not know, when I wondered at the piercing quality of his eyes. His attention was stealthy, as if he wanted to watch while others were oblivious to this. I wondered what he thought, if he was gauging my weakness, or gauging something else that would intrigue me more. Then the blue orbs had turned away even before I understood that they were seeing me no longer to focus their attention on the phone in Suarez’s hand. Agent Scott took it, returned it to his pocket.

Suarez cleared his throat silently, watching us.

“Will her memory be erased?” He glanced at his daughter’s raven head by way of explanation.

“You know this has to be done,” Orion replied. His tone was plain.

He did not argue. He only nodded.

In this epilogue I knew Orion was severing whatever connection had been forged between himself and the targets, because I was doing the same. For all who survived each mission there was always an denouement to walk through in which we sometimes forced ourselves to resume our air of detachment concerning those who were targets no more, to believe they were nothing to us.

By then the world was shifting to the left and right, or juddering up and down. I had lost both strength and blood, and everything my eyes beheld possessed the magic of a dream. I heard Orion speaking.

“We will leave you now, Mr. Suarez.”

“Yes,” Suarez said. “Yes.”

He took a few steps back, taking Rosario with him. She retreated without protest, her large eyes never ceasing to absorb us, as if our likenesses were being engraved within the walls of her mind.

“Do you think,” he said, after a moment of deliberation, “that they will come after us, either of them?”

“Perhaps,” I heard myself say. “Maybe they will.”

He did not reply, but nodded to himself and looked away, betraying a sliver of despondency.

But already the warmth of Agent Scott’s hands was travelling over my shoulder. We were removed from that place in an instant, leaving Eduardo Suarez to fix the pieces of his family’s life even as they were falling away.

***

We had been taken to Taurus Hospital, and had been assigned to a Mender as soon as we appeared in the waiting area. We were taken to a room for the sake of privacy. Agent Scott had not needed to be our company; he had not suffered a scratch on his body, but had remained with us still. He watched in silent interest as the Mender’s hands worked their craft on my body, sealing wounds and soothing organs. Her power was like a magical balm that I could feel. Always did gratitude course through my heart beneath a Mender’s hands. She worked with no more than a few words, telling me where to move for her to reach other injured places. It only required the space of several minutes before she was finished, and when she was, I felt better than I had in a very long time. She left me and with graceful steps went to work on Orion.

Agent Scott was a very handsome man,; I did not deny this to myself. After all, only I was able to hear my own thoughts in that place. But he must have had an idea of what passed through my head from the undistracted way in which I watched him, taking a few moments to glance elsewhere when I believed I was being too forward. Still, I wanted him to know he had gained my interest, just as much as or more than I had gained his. After a time the subtle alteration of his expression told he realized my thought. A slow seductive smile crossed his face, and I enjoyed this, glad that I had taken my partner’s advice.

But my partner, once he had ceased his silent flirting with the comely young Mender and saw what was happening between the other agent and myself, was keen on insinuating himself into the unspoken conversation.

“You can go, you know,” he said.

Agent Scott looked at him.

Orion watched him, mischief in his gaze. He smiled. “You paid your debt; you’re free of me. So—go. We’ll see you next week.”

“That’s all I get? For saving your ass? Even I was more grateful when you—”

He waved him off. “I’m not going to send you roses. Or maybe I will. Depends on my mood. See you around.”

Agent Scott bowed his head, awarding me the full view of his face.

“See you around?”

I nodded before remembering I was supposed to speak an answer. “Yes, you will.”

He headed for the door, which was something I had never seen him do, having watched him teleport to his destinations. The door closed behind him softly with a small click. I continued to stare at it until my partner’s exaggerated sigh drew my attention away.

Minutes later we were walking down the hospital’s steps, squinting our eyes from the light of the dying sun. Our steps were light and unhurried. It was as if we had never been injured; so great was the power of the Mender. The day was ending, and it seemed a shame to spend the rest of it in our department updating back logged reports. Nevertheless, I turned in the direction of the main building.

With his power Orion grabbed my hand only long enough for me to realize his intention.

“We don’t have to go in today,” he said. “The day’s almost spent. We should go home. We deserve the rest.”

It was only after a second’s thought that I agreed. We grinned like little truants before resuming our professional expression to satisfy the eyes of our colleagues who continued to enter and leave the hospital. We headed for the parking lot, and ready to find Orion’s Aston Martin easily among the other vehicles.

But the parking lot contained several agents, an uncommon thing, as it was not yet the end of the workday for them to leave the main building to escape in their vehicles. They were speaking among themselves, their faces somber, grave. From time to time each would look over toward an area somewhere to the northwest of us where other vehicles had been parked.

We joined them almost reluctantly, our ignorance of the reason for the crowd’s presence giving rise to caution. But as we listened, we realized that people were speaking of an agent, a Six, who had been killed that day. He had died on the job, so they said, killed by a creature that had proved itself to be far stronger than he. It was like this that they continued to speak, wondering how he might have died and the unfairness bound up in the fact that he had died in service to an agency that would forget his memory before the week was out. His colleagues had come to watch a fellow Six drive his car out of the parking lot, and as Orion and I stood among them and made way for the passing vehicle, we heard them swear that they would not forget him as long as they lived. We knew they meant this, because each department from One to Six was a unit, whether they cared for each other or not. They would always feel the loss of a colleague, but the friends of the one who had died that day surely felt his death more than the rest.

After the car was driven out, the belongings of the dead agent stacked in the backseat, the agents all departed the building, returning to their various departments. The world had not stopped because of the loss; our superiors had let us remember this in the past, as they would continue to do in the future.

Soon we found the Aston Martin sitting comfortably where it had been parked. We headed toward it, our hearts less cheery than they had been minutes ago.

“There it is,” I heard him say, “your first taste of Taurean life.”

“You try to make it seem as if it is not the same as Athenian life. It is.”

“You might be right. You are right. But at least we both survived.”

“Right.”

“And now that you are one of us there will be no reason for me to kill you.”

It was here that we stopped, both of us on either side of the car, our hands reaching for the door handles. He looked at each other over the car’s roof, aware that we were saying much more in silence than we had out loud. The old suspicion returned, and perhaps it had never left, but had been repressed long enough for us to complete our previous job. For all his mischief Orion was not one to be trifled with; he was far too clever, and possessed an intelligence that I had not yet been able to fathom. His expression was an impenetrable wall, whatever I wanted to learn from him would not be revealed to me then. I had been taken from Athena into enemy territory and made into one of them. It did not mean however, that I had to trust them.

“I have not forgotten the question of why I am here,” I said to him.

A smile of challenge. “Neither have I.”

We said nothing more, and got inside the car.