Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [44]
“Will it be as fast as it was for me?”
“I have no idea. We’re breaking new ground, here. Some may not be able to learn at all, for all I know. If they’ve been jumping too long, their brains may not be able to hold the new patterns.”
“So you think the fact that I’m relatively new helped me?”
“Maybe. I won’t be able to extrapolate until I see more.”
To my surprise, Argus hugs me. “Thanks for saving my ass.”
“I’m the one who put you in this situation. It’s the least I can do.”
He shakes his head. “The least you could do is run. But you wouldn’t.”
No. That’s not me. Not anymore.
CHAPTER 14
The system works.
Today I train twenty students at a time, and some of them learn faster than others. Turns out I was right—the young ones learn like Argus, but the older jumpers take longer, and a couple of them can’t seem to grasp the shift, even after hours in the simulator with me. A veteran jumper named Ashley seems broken with disappointment.
“I know it’s different,” she says tearfully. “But I don’t understand how.”
I’ll keep working with her over the next few days, but I suspect she’s never going to get this. Her career as a jumper is done. I’m sorry as hell to have done this to her, but maybe I did her a favor. People rarely quit our profession voluntarily, so maybe now she has a chance at a normal life. Given the addictive nature of the job, she’ll probably turn to chem and burn her mind out that way. But she has a chance, however slim, at something else.
She storms out of the session angrily, muttering curses, as I welcome the next batch of students. It will be my last of the day because I’m finding this more tiring than I expected, especially with the veteran jumpers. Some of them mutter at having to deal with me; I hear whispers of murderess and vile bitch. I pretend I don’t hear it.
Just got to stick with this for a few weeks, and you can cut them loose.
I fire up the nav chair and the console, waiting for them to join me inside. They do so with varying levels of eagerness. Most of them erect partitions so I don’t glimpse their emotions, but others take pleasure in showing me their scorn. I ignore them and focus on the colors streaming in my mind.
Clear your thoughts, I instruct the group. And then, as I showed Argus, I demonstrate how things have changed, the paths subtly altered. A couple of young jumpers catch on right away, and of those two, a girl flashes the same message I did. Perfect duplication. After her display, glimmers of understanding echo through the web. She can teach. We run the drill several more times until well over half the jumpers jacked in understand the difference.
Find Gehenna for me. Volunteers?
Not surprisingly, it’s the girl who caught on first. She’s eager to test herself, and she performs the jump flawlessly.
Does everyone see how that varies from the old way?
A general sense of assent, underscored with a hint of confusion and resentment. The old Farwan jumpers aren’t happy with change, and even less so at my hands. I was the one who destroyed their world the first time, after all.
We drill until I sense that their exhaustion outstrips their ability to focus. At that point, I dismiss the class and jack out. But I ask my prodigy to stay behind.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Faye.” She’s shy, unable to make eye contact. Or maybe she’s afraid of me. I have a reputation these days.
“You have a talent for pattern duplication. How would you like to teach?”
She shakes her head. “I want to jump. Just as soon as I can get back out there.”
“You can go back to jumping after we get the rest of the navigators back up to speed,” I say persuasively. “It could mean the difference between life and death for some of those colonies waiting on supplies.”
Yeah, that struck the right note. She pales. “I guess I could stay a couple of weeks and help out.”
“I need you,” I tell her bluntly. “We’re facing a challenge unlike anything that’s happened in all the turns since we discovered