“That was good,” Barclay says as we slide into a booth to sit and wait. “I didn’t think you’d be able to keep up,” he says, gesturing outside.
“I’m pretty fast, for a girl.” I ignore the way the sweat is cooling on my skin.
He smiles, and I laugh a little, though I don’t know how I’m able to. The adrenaline running through my body makes me feel light and a little giddy now that I don’t need it.
It’s not like we’re out of danger—I know that—but for the moment we’re safe.
“No, I’m serious, Tenner,” Barclay says. He’s stone-faced, his skin shiny with sweat, his eyes ocean blue. But it’s his voice that makes me shiver. It sounds like truth. “You’re good at this.”
I think of what my dad would say about that, and smile. Barclay and I both know we have to be good at this. We know what the stakes are. If we aren’t good, people will die.
“What is this?” I say, even though I know.
“I’m trying to compliment you,” Barclay says. “Can’t you just say thanks?”
I shake my head. “Too stubborn to accept compliments.”
The waitress comes and brings us two cups of coffee and a slice of the pumpkin pie to share, on the house. Her eyes are on Barclay the entire time she talks, and I’m pretty sure the pie is for him.
I’m about to comment on it once she’s gone, but Barclay’s face loses its humor and he leans closer to me. “After this is over, you should think about joining IA.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just stare back at him.
“You wouldn’t necessarily have to live here,” he says, cracking a smile. “IA has a presence in almost every universe.”
I bite my lip. It isn’t about moving to Prima, not that I have any desire to do that, either. But joining IA is something I’ve never thought about. I didn’t realize it was an option, but I can’t think of a single reason I’d want to. The IA is threatening Ben, and me, pretty violently. Why would I ever want to be a part of that?
I don’t say that out loud. Because for whatever reason, IA means something to Barclay.
But he’s waiting for me to say something. “It’s just, with all the corruption,” I say, carefully. “How can you even want to be part of IA anymore?”
“It wasn’t always corrupt, and that’s why we’re doing this,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Just think about it. You’d make a good agent. I’d help you.”
I stare into the black abyss that is my coffee, and I wonder what Alex would say about this—if he’d jump at the chance to run around the multiverse and fight the worst kind of bad guys. With how smart he was and how hard he worked, Alex would have made a great agent.
“One of the first things I learned was observational survival,” Barclay says.
I dump a packet of sugar into my coffee. “Care to elaborate?”
His eyes don’t leave mine, not even for a second, and he says, “There are twelve people in this place, counting us. Six are other diners, then there’s the waitress, two line cooks, and a manager in the back office. He’s probably got a gun tucked in a safe, but the biggest threat is the guy alone in the booth behind me. He’s not much bigger than I am, but his worn-out boots are military issue and he’s still sporting the standard army haircut. He’s probably not a soldier anymore, but he looks like he wishes he was.
“But no one in this place is even close to being as dangerous as you and me. We could take everyone out without a problem if we needed to.” He pauses, searching for something in my face. “You do it sometimes too. You analyze the situation and calculate the best escape routes and chances of survival. I don’t know if your dad taught you or if it’s some kind of instinct, but being aware of your surroundings is the most important thing anyone can ever teach you in this line of work.”
Barclay leans back against his seat as I think about his words. I can’t actually remember my dad ever specifically telling me to analyze a room, but I know he used to do it all the time. And I know I do it—especially when I think there’s going to be trouble.