Free Socket 1 - The Discovery of Socket Greeny by Tony Bertauski Page A

made something up about a great warrior named
Craftsman. He still wouldn’t have laughed.
    “You are creating quite a stir, you know.” He
narrowed his eyes. “The whole Paladin Nation is a buzz about the
new find. I had to see you with my own eyes.”
    I filled an awkward silence with a laugh. He
talked funny. “What’s the big stir?”
    “Well, for one, you are sixteen years old and
timeslicing, my dear friend. That is quite abnormal. And so far
your preliminary evaluations are soaring. Only one cadet has ever
had higher scores than you.” He smiled. Teeth perfect.
    “And that would beeee… you.” I gave him a
chance to fill in the blank – he was obviously proud – but he let
me do it.
    “Do not feel disappointed. I am a product of
genetic engineering. New and improved, one might say.”
    “You timeslice?”
    “Oh, no. I will begin timeslicing when I’m
twenty, that’s the normal progression. You see, the body isn’t
prepared for such stress while it is still developing. At twenty,
you are adept physically as well as mentally. You realize you are
lucky to have survived your accidental timeslice.” He smiled,
again. A little too big. “Premature timeslicing can drain the life
from you, starve you to the end. It is a good thing you are here
for us to guide you.”
    “I’m thrilled,” I said, thinking of my first
day.
    He opened his mouth wide and laughed. It
sounded unnatural. Like he practiced laughing.
    “Pike got a little aggressive in your
preliminary, yes, I heard. You handled it quite well, though. Most
cadets leave something like that unconscious. You, on the other
hand, actually spoke. Quite impressive, indeed.”
    He looked me up and down, again; walked
around. Grimmets scurried out of his way. He made a full circle,
nearly stepping on Pivot. “Could you tell me something?” Broak held
my hair, let it fall off his fingers. “Why is your hair so unkempt
and lacking of color?”
    This guy was way into my personal space. And
he was holding my hair. That was… unnatural . My stomach
tightened and sparked. Broak put his hands up like he felt a
warning. I surrender . He rubbed both hands on his pants.
    “Pigmentation disorder.” I took a step
back.
    “I have never heard of such a thing. You are
not albino, how is that possible?”
    “I live in South Carolina but I’m standing in
a jungle somewhere in the world where there’s mountains. How’s that
possible?”
    Suddenly, saying I lived in South Carolina
didn’t feel right. Do I live here now?
    He stopped observing and narrowed his eyes.
“You are intriguing, dear Socket. Take any other sixteen-year-old,
drive him through a wormhole and introduce him to a brutal minder
like Pike and, well, he’d be crying for mommy. You, on the other
hand, behave as if this happens every day. You are quite
extraordinary.”
    “Not like I had a choice.”
    “No. You didn’t.” His smile faded from his
smooth face. No sign of whiskers.
    “How old are you?” I asked.
    “Same as you. Do you find that odd?”
    “You seem pretty okay with all this
yourself.”
    “That’s because I was born here. I’m a
Paladin breed. I was made to do this. You are a genetic mutation
and that’s why so many Paladins are all enthusiastic about you.
They love mutations. They have this false hope that nature will
provide the right combination of DNA to improve our race. But if
you want to know the truth, you are just an abnormality, a random
chance. If you think about it, it’s like squirting paint on a
canvas hoping it will become the Mona Lisa.” He twitched. “Do you
understand?”
    Did I just get insulted?
    Broak clasped his hands behind his back and
looked into the pond below. He sniffed the air and sneered, then
brushed a bit of dust from his chest. The grimmets rustled
nervously, never taking their eyes off him.
    “Whether you know it or not,” he said without
turning, “you are somewhere in between, dear Socket.”
    “In between what?”
    “This world