Read GEN13 - Version 2.0 for Free Online Page B

the ground.
    The aide cowered in terror against the opposite wall. Who was this girl? What was she?!
    In fact, though, there was no longer anything to fear. The girl had already done what she came to do.
    A second girl, similar in age but with short, curly hair, stepped out of a doorway to join the first. “We weren’t supposed to engage the guards,” she said. “Time to withdraw.”
    The first one nodded.
    The second girl closed her eyes. The air beside them started to shimmer. The pair stepped purposefully toward the effect, and in the blink of an eye, they were gone without a trace. Only the bedlam that they left behind remained as proof that they had been there at all.
    The whole thing had taken only a matter of minutes. With startling efficiency, two twelve-year-old girls had invaded one of the most secure areas in the country. They had overcome a pair of highly trained guards. They had committed cold-blooded murder.
    And they had done it all without a single change of their impassive expressions.
    The front office of the employment agency was a sea of noise. Between the ringing phones, the clicking of fingers on keyboards, the employment counselors pitching clients to potential employers, and the hopeful souls laying out their dreams of the future, it was hard for the people inside to hear themselves think:
    “What kind of experience do you have?”
    “Yes, I’ve got a terrific candidate sitting right here. I think you'll be very happy with her.”
    “I understand. Thanks anyway.”
    “Oh, sure! I see it now. So what you’re saying is that maybe I could start with accounting, and then sort of ease my way gradually over toward lion tamer... ?”
    The ongoing din wasn’t uncommon at the agency. If anything, it simply signalled business as usual. It was far more uncommon when, a moment later, the noise came to an abrupt halt and an awestruck silence blanketed the room. One by one, all heads turned when Kat walked tentatively in through the door.
    For a second, Kat worried that it might have been because of the bullet holes in her sweater. But a quick glance confirmed that they weren’t visible; she’d had the foresight to keep her jacket zipped up to conceal them. After all, Kat figured, an outfit riddled with bullet holes might not make the best first impression.
    No, Kat concluded that the reason was a much more familiar one. Even without bullet holes, Kat had grown used to the fact that she had a hard time blending into a crowd.
    Screwing up her courage, Kat strode through the room. She tried to distract herself from the stares by focusing her attention on the room and its furnishings instead. The walls were a faded off-white, the desks and file cabinets were the standard sort of metallic black and gray that were typical of almost every office Kat had visited since her days in elementary school. ( Hmm , Kat thought, reading the metal tag on the front of a desk as though it was deeply important. “Ridgeway and Company, Akron, Ohio.”) Her feet followed along well-worn scuff marks in the linoleum that hinted at the many years’ worth of people who’d gone before.
    Kat headed for one of the few desks where the guest chair beside the desk wasn’t already filled. A heavy set, middle-aged woman in hom-rimmed glasses sat behind the desk. Her fingers were still on the keyboard that she’d been using before Kat came through the door. The nameplate on the desk proclaimed her name as Rhoda Mickel.
    Kat stood in front of the desk, her hands clasped together. She tried a nervous smile.
    “Hi,” said Kat.
    “Yes?”
    “I’d, uh ... I’d like to find a job.”
    Ms. Mickel peered over the frame of her glasses and eyed Kat skeptically. Kat shifted her weight from foot to foot.
    “Sorry,” Ms. Mickel said, “this isn’t a modelling agency.” She turned her attention back to the computer and started to type.
    Kat was dumbstruck. “But—but that’s exactly the point!” she said. She leaned forward with an