“Progress, Mark? Do you know how I did at the desert proving grounds? I couldn’t get past the fourth pylon. I can barely fly.”
Mark’s eyes darted to the bruise and back up to Maddy’s face. She could read conflict in his steely eyes.
“What’s really going on, Mark?”
The Archangel sighed and lowered his voice, leaning in close to Maddy.
“There is a strong contingent – very strong – among the Archangels that thinks waiting to Commission you is just a waste of time and momentum. Given your special . . . position.”
“You mean my popularity?” Maddy said, getting to the point. This was no time to be humble. Something bigger than her was happening.
Mark narrowed his eyes. “Being an Angel is about a lot of things, Maddy,” he said. “Yes, making saves is a large part of that. But pleasing the public is also one of those things. Without public support, we Angels are going to have a hard time keeping Linden and his racist cronies at bay.”
“So basically I’m a great PR opportunity.”
Mark put his hand on Maddy’s shoulder. “We need to remind people of the reason they fell in love with Angels in the first place. And why they need us still. Rekindle that romance. Capture the thrill. The opportunity. You embody all that, Maddy. Whether you like it or not. It’s bigger than you, now. You’re going to be a Guardian in two weeks.”
Maddy let out a long sigh. “But what if I can’t? What if I’m not good enough?” Her voice became quieter. She looked up at the Archangel. “What if I’m not ready?”
“Well, you’re going to have to be.”
CHAPTER 19
If Maddy had thought things were hectic before, her unforeseen Commissioning this year threw everything instantly, irrevocably into overdrive. It suddenly seemed that the amount of media coverage had doubled overnight, and Maddy was the name on everybody’s breathless lips.
The NAS had made the right bet: Maddy was becoming the biggest thing for Angels in decades. She was doing wonders for Angel publicity: her picture was everywhere; she was in demand from everyone; she even suddenly had her own action figure that came with the kid’s meal at a popular nationwide hamburger chain. For the first time in weeks, the story about Senator Linden and the Immortals Bill faded a bit into the background as everyone re-remembered the excitement of Angels, now that someone who had been born a human was officially joining their highest ranks.
As the Archangel spokesmen kept saying on TV, “Maddy stands for the best and brightest, our new generation of Angels. She’s made so much progress, we’re all just eager to get her out there saving Protections and thrilling her fans!”
And so Maddy Montgomery Godright, recently graduated from Angel City High School and formerly a morning shift waitress at Kevin’s Diner, was their “It” girl. It was dizzying.
“Maddy, honey,” Darcy had said, looking seriously into her eyes, “you have hit the jackpot.”
Maddy wasn’t so sure about the jackpot, however, especially as the crush of photographer and interview requests grew to smothering proportions. And if she already wasn’t a favourite among the other Angels, now all of them except Jacks officially hated her. Especially those in training. They all but hissed at her when she walked by, and Emily’s friend Zoe had stopped her in a hallway and told her to her face she didn’t deserve it and everyone knew it. Emily herself had been keeping up a stream of thinly veiled insults on her Twitter feed. Even Mitch had been a bit chilly to Maddy.
It’s not my fault! she wanted to shout out to them. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good. It didn’t matter who was behind her early advancement to Guardianship – the other nominees were going to resent her bitterly no matter what.
And Jacks? His reaction to her early Commissioning had been strangely quiet.
So then one afternoon less than a week from Commissioning, sitting in the nice air-conditioned comfort of her luxury apartment, Maddy suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. At all. Like there was a vice on her chest and the vice was getting tighter and there was no way to get out. She gasped for air.
She realized she was probably having a panic attack. Looking at the blogs, watching A!, checking Twitter – the tsunami of being nominated to Guardian after such little training had suddenly overwhelmed her. Catastrophe, embarrassment, shame and failure all crashed into her head at once. And capping it all was an image in her mind’s eye of her tumbling down for ever, out of the clouds, her wings flapping helplessly.
In a cold sweat, Maddy dug through her purse, searching. After fumbling through a number of canisters of lipstick and make-up – how different her life had become in just a year – Maddy found it. The card read: “U.S. Navy Aviator 1st Lieutenant Thomas Cooper.” And a phone number.
A bored voice answered the phone. “Navy.”
“Is Tom, I mean, Lieutenant Cooper there? This is Mad – his tutee.”
“Hold, please.”
The phone clicked over, and patriotic hold music played in Maddy’s ear. Her pulse was still racing from the panic. She tried to catch her breath.
The phone clicked over. Tom’s voice was on the line.
“Hello, Maddy?” the pilot said, the line crackling slightly. “Is everything all right? Our next session isn’t scheduled until Thursday, and it’s Sunday.”
“I need your help,” Maddy blurted into the phone before he’d even finished his sentence.