The Intuitives(69)
The gryphon eyed him curiously for a moment but then dropped the paper ball into his hand, apparently figuring out what Rush wanted.
“You’re a smart one, aren’t you,” Rush’s voice was warm and encouraging, and he scratched the cub’s chin again. “OK, boy, I’m going to throw it farther this time. You ready? You wanna get it for me? You wanna get it? Go get it!”
Rush threw the ball well over the gryphon’s head, but instead of running after it, the gryphon leaped into the air, executed a twisting, mid-air somersault and extended its wings to dive after the ball, snatching it up in its beak before it hit the floor and then landing on all fours—only to keep right on going, thanks to the floor’s smooth surface, its paws and talons skidding wildly on the sealed concrete before it finally slid to a halt, making Sketch laugh out loud.
“That was awesome!” Sketch shouted, forgetting in his excitement that they had snuck out of the lodge in the middle of the night and were supposed to be keeping it down.
“Shh,” Rush reminded him, but Rush was chuckling too.
The gryphon cub shook its head for a moment, regaining its composure, and then jumped into the air again, gliding casually back to Rush. It used its wings this time to brake so that it landed gently, if still a bit clumsily, and promptly dropped the wadded up paper back into his hand.
“That,” Daniel said quietly, “was so cool.”
“Hey, guys, I hate to break up the party, but I think we should go,” Mackenzie said. “We said we were just going to try this to figure out why they want us to do it. Now we know we can do it, but we still don’t know why, and I, for one, really don’t want to get caught out here.”
Rush looked at Sam. “Tick-Tock?” he asked. Mackenzie flashed him a look of annoyance but said nothing.
“She’s right,” Sam admitted reluctantly. “We still have time to clean up in here and not get caught, but we need to get going.”
“OK,” Rush acknowledged. Kaitlyn walked back to the sink to retrieve the damp rag while Rush addressed the gryphon cub.
“Come here, buddy,” he said gently. He scratched the cub behind the ears for a moment before finally backing away from it, but the cub only followed him, trying now to climb into his lap.
“No, no,” Rush protested, chuckling again, and the cub looked up at him, cocking its head questioningly. “Time to go, buddy. Time to go home, OK? Go home.” Rush pointed toward the portal, and the cub looked at it obediently and then looked back at Rush.
“That’s right, boy. Go home. Understand? Go home now. We can play again later, OK?” Rush pointed to the portal again, and this time the cub lifted up into the air, surprising him by whistling a quick little tune and then shivering again, its fur and feathers bristling up and settling back down just like before. The shiver had caused it to fall about a foot through the air, but it caught itself easily with a downstroke of its wings and then glided toward the portal, glancing back at Rush over its shoulder to screech a final goodbye, and then thrusting its beak into the darkness, slowly pushing itself back through until it finally disappeared.
“See ya, buddy,” Rush said quietly.
With a sigh, Kaitlyn knelt by the edge of the chalk circle and wiped the rag across one of the runes. Immediately, the portal shuddered, shimmering in the air for just a brief moment and then vanishing without a sound.
36
Instructor Report
“So, what went wrong this time? Where are my results? Do you have any idea how much pressure I’m feeling from above?”
“I believe that I do, yes.”
“Is that supposed to be funny? Because, trust me, you don’t. You have no piss-damn idea how much flak I’m taking. I’ve been doing my best to keep it off you and your little Pollyanna Island of Neverland, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold the shit storm at bay. Hell, I’ve been your piss-damn flak umbrella. What’s coming in from above is a lot worse than what I’ve been dishing out.”
“That is a frightening thought.”
“It is, isn’t it? So maybe you can understand, then, why it’s so important to me that we turn this ship around before it turns into the Titanic! What, exactly, do I have to do to get these kids to perform?”
“You have to tell them the truth. Do you really think I have been making this up? That I have been placing imaginary obstacles in your way? I want this project to be successful at least as badly as you do.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“Do you? Then you know nothing about me at all. This is a mission for you—just one mission of many over a long career—but for me, it is my life’s work. And my mother’s before me, and her father’s before him, extending back more generations than your own precious nation can count. Far more. So do not doubt my commitment. When I tell you that the unconscious mind is powerful, that it knows when it is being lied to, and that it will not cooperate in this work against its will, I am telling you the truth. We will not get what we want until we tell them what they are doing here.”
“And I’ve told you we can’t compromise the security of the project!”
“I am not asking you to tell them the details of what they are up against. We do not need to frighten them. But we must at least tell them what they are trying to accomplish. Otherwise, all our efforts here will be wasted. And you can tell your superiors that the expert they hired had the solution and you chose to ignore him.”