Dissident

by Lisa Beeson

  Gregory lifted his eyes to meet Ari’s, condemning her as liar and a hypocrite. She had promised him no harm if he cooperated. Her anger flared that her word had not been upheld, but she couldn’t help feeling that the jerk deserved what he got.

  Kael’s eyes zeroed in on Randall. “Feel better?”

  Randall looked like a dear in the headlights under Kael’s unyielding glare, but he managed a nod and a shrug of one of his shoulders in response.

  “Good, because you’re done.” Kael turned his focus to the others. “Break over. Get back to work.”

  Without a word of protest, the men went off to execute their different jobs.

  “Where are the other captives?” Ari asked Roche before he took off.

  “In the chinook, safe and sound,” he answered before jogging over towards the office in back.

  She looked through the metal of the chinook across the hangar. Petra, Zachary, Scar-chin, and surprisingly, an unconscious Helena DeVane were all trussed up on the floor, with noise cancelling headphones on.

  Ari relaxed a little, glad that Petra had not witnessed any of that. She had promised the girl that she would not be harmed, and Ari intended on keeping that promise at least. No one was hurting children on her watch. Even if the children were sociopathic little goblins.

  “Where is she?” boomed a voice with a slight Scottish brogue.

  Ari turned towards the office to see Roche deftly jumping to the side as Reid pushed his way through the door, eagerly looking around the hangar, a crowd of curious people behind him – some familiar, some not.

  When his eyes settled on her, she saw the slight give of his knees. Pain and remorse filled his eyes as they swept over her scars and robotic leg. But the sadness quickly turned to joy and pride as he began to tear up and a smile spread across his face.

  Ari’s heart nearly burst with love for the burly Scotsman. He made the conscious decision not to see how she was hurt and what she had lost, but to see how she had healed. He chose to see her strength and resilience, and he was so proud of her.

  “Ah, lass… you’re a beautiful sight for this old heart,” Reid said as he pressed his hand to his chest and strode towards her.

  Ari ran into his open arms, hugging him tight. His massive arms crushed her against his barrel chest as if he would never let her go again. “We thought we lost you, lass,” he said into her ear. “Promise me you’ll never do something as stupid as that again.”

  Ari chuckled tearfully. “I can’t promise that, but I’ll try.”

  “You bloody damn well will,” he said with his own rumbling chuckle.

  No sooner had Reid released her then she was swept up in another tight embrace. Tauber.

  “We needed to get it done,” he mumbled.

  Ari felt his sharp remorse and guilt for leaving her, and his need for her to forgive him. She held him just as tightly as he held onto her. The poor man tortured himself enough fighting his own demons; she didn’t want to add to it. “I know,” she said as she drew back to look him in the eyes to show him that she meant it. She was surprised to see they were the same height now. “No worries, my friend.”

  Ari realized now that these men had not abandoned her. They were completely devoted to her – ready to raze the world in order to make sure she was safe. They couldn’t sit back while the bad guy got away, they had to make him pay. They were men of action – swift, violent action. Doing what they did best.

  “Just… leave me a note or something next time,” she said with a wink.

  The hardened, bulldog of a man, cracked a small grateful smile and nodded.

  She heard Cam curse under his breath in Russian, and she had to keep herself from bursting out laughing. The Russian surprised her, but she knew exactly what made Cam so shocked. That small lip curl of a smile from Tauber in public was like gigantic grin on anyone else. The man was practically jubilant.

  “Come, lass,” Reid said as he put one of his big arms around her shoulders. “There’s some people eager to meet you.” He turned her towards a group of three people standing back by the office.

  Her eyes went straight to the tall young man who looked just like Joshua, only older. He was thin and showing signs of malnutrition. All three of them were.

  “Eric?” she asked tentatively.

  He started in surprise. “You know who I am?”

  “Joshua told me about you,” she answered. “You look just like him.”

  He smiled and nodded, visibly reassured.

  “This is Harper Nguyen,” Reid said, gesturing to the girl huddled into Eric’s side. She gave Ari a nervous smile as she brushed a strand of turquoise hair behind her ear. If the length of her black roots were any indication, she’d been locked away in The Facility for a long time. Another flare of anger burned through Ari, before she schooled her features and returned the smile.

  “And Dr. Sonia Wu,” Reid continued, motioning to the other woman who could be anywhere between forty and fifty years old. It was honestly hard to tell with her hollowed cheeks and the dark shadows under her eyes. Ari nodded and Sonia nodded back, her eyes taking Ari in as if she was a specimen she was eager to study.

  Ari could tell that the doctor knew she wasn’t human. There was nothing malicious in her stare, however. It was only a scientist’s eye examining something interesting and unknown. Maia used to look at her like that all the time; Ari was used to it.

  Adam cleared his throat, leaning casually in the doorway, his brow raised in expectation before glancing over at Kael.

  Ari glanced back at Kael and motioned towards Adam. “This is Adam Lennox, former Army MP and current Transcendent of the ancient Xjaamin Order…” She turned back towards Adam and motioned back at Kael. “And this is Lothan Kael, my grandfather.”

  Eyes widened, mouths dropped open, and brows furrowed in shock and confusion; all of them wondering how this man, who looked barely old enough to be her father, could possibly be her grandfather.

  Adam was not surprised, however. He merely straightened and walked over to Kael – both men looking each other over and summing each other up. Kael had a good three or so inches on Adam, but both men swallowed the space around them with their dominant authority, each extremely powerful in their own right. The challenge was clear. No one made a sound, or even dared to breathe. When the tension was at its breaking point, Kael slowly extended his hand towards Adam.

  Ari didn’t know how everyone’s eyes could possibly get any bigger, but they managed it. Cam’s audible gasp of astonishment, nearly made her laugh again. But she only smiled, because she knew that Kael had seen Adam’s strengths and potential, he saw someone able to protect and fight for his granddaughter. The proffered hand was his seal of approval and a proposal for what was to come.

  Adam nodded and extended his own hand, knowing what the gesture meant and the honor and responsibility that came with it. The men clasped hands and with a firm shake, the vow was made. A respectful truce was forged, and everyone was able to breathe normally again.

  “Um…” Myles chanced in small voice before clearing his throat, successfully breaking the moment of collective awe. “Harper…?” He held out a comm unit towards her. “It’s time.”

  Chapter 27

  Soren had retreated to the safe place in his mind.

  The world around him was falling apart like a wet paper boat in his hands. There were no more rules; anything could happen at any time, nothing was solid or safe anymore.

  Emotions were high in the large room where they all were clustered high in their mountain tower. The adults that were not violently trying to get information from Wyatt, were having vigorous conversations of their own. Some were shouting, and some were whispering behind hands. Markus and Mara were speaking in whispers as they stared out the wall of windows at the island below. Marin was having an intense discussion with Jonah, while Brenna played a song on the white baby grand piano, escaping into her own world just like Soren. The melody was flowing like a pleasant undercurrent to t
he hectic white noise of conversations.

  Mara had reactivated the chips in Soren’s and the Laramie siblings’ necks so they could not use their abilities against them. If they were not going to help, then they would not hinder either, according to Mara.

  Soren hated this room. He hated the cold antiseptic feel of the harsh white décor. But especially, he hated the dead animals used as decorations throughout the sparse angular space. Their only crime was the unfortunate luck of having a snowy white pelt. A dead polar bear, its face frozen in a vicious snarl, was now a rug on the floor. A stuffed artic fox perched on a clear acrylic stand, so life-like in that moment before pouncing, yet never to move again. The head of a mountain goat hung high on the wall, judging those beneath him with an imperious stare. There were even animals whose fur wasn’t normally white who graced the room of death. Helena had told him that they had something called albinism, and they were very rare. There was a baby giraffe in the corner. The snowy head of a male lion hung on the wall across from the mountain goat, a peacock stood near the chaise, and the stuffed body of a large alligator guarded one of the doors.

  His grandmother liked to say that she had granted the animals a form of immortality, but all she had done was steal their life to flaunt their corpses.

  Their lifeless glass eyes kept making him think of all the death he had seen. They’re faces kept flashing through his mind to superimpose on his vision like a bad photo filter. So he stopped looking at the dead animals and pushed bad thoughts away, locking them in a box in his mind. If he didn’t think about it, it couldn’t hurt him.

  Whenever he had retreated before, Skylar would say that he reminded her of the clockwork-boy from a story Marin had read to them. It was exactly how he felt too. With a numb detachment, his fingers moved with the comforting mechanical motions of paper folds, as his vacant-looking, yet watchful eyes distantly took in the details around him. His outward demeanor was an unfeeling tin carapace protecting him from the real life monsters all around him, plotting and strategizing against the men who had come to save him.

  The only things keeping him from giving up and losing himself to fear and despair was the glimmer of Ari’s spark still in his chest and the blip of Skylar’s happiness and contentment he had felt earlier. It helped to know a part of Ari was always with him, and wherever Skylar was, she was safe and happy. Wyatt had said that she was waiting for him. He had to hold onto the hope that he would find a way to get to her somehow.

  Every once in a while stares or a pointed finger would dart his way, but for the most part no one paid him any attention, except for Isaac and his little brother, Paul, across the room. They had made it a game to freeze and unfreeze him.

  Their mother, Anita, sat beside Soren on the hard white bench against the back wall near the piano. Her dull eyes stared ahead, as her twitchy fingers pulled at the strings coming loose from the bottom of her shirt. She was a clockwork person too, except her gears seemed broken. She kept mumbling the same word over and over: “salvarla… salvarla…”

  Soren felt sorry for her. She didn’t have an Ari or a Skylar to help her.

  In his periphery, he would catch her movements stuttering unnaturally as well. Even their own mother wasn’t safe from the devil spawn’s mean spirited games. Sometimes his and Anita’s stuttering movements would synchronize, and the brothers would crack up like vicious hyenas.

  After the third time it happened, Claudia went over and slapped the back of the brothers’ heads in reprimand, and told them to quit it. Then she came over and knelt in front of Soren, ignoring Anita completely. “Hey, Soren. You wanna play a game or something?”

  Not with you…, he thought bitterly, as he continued to fold the paper that wasn’t really there.

  She stilled his hands with hers, emitting some of her soothing sounds. “Fine. If not a game then maybe we can go for a walk. I want to talk to you about what happened with your mother and… and Val.”

  At the sound of Val’s name, Anita started clawing at Claudia’s shoulder, her dull, placid eyes going wild as her mumblings became increasingly louder and more panicked. “Salvarla…SALVARLA… SALVARLA!”

  “Stop it!” Claudia screamed as she pushed Anita away and slapped her across the face as hard as she could. At the sharp clap of sound, the murmur of voices silenced and Brenna stopped playing the piano. Everyone stopped to stare. Even in his retreated state, Soren flinched at the sudden violence. Anita did not whimper or cower, however. She only sat there silently, her eyes still unfocused, as if pain couldn’t reach her.

  “Save her, save her,” Claudia mocked as she got up to stand over her. “No one is going to save Val now, you stupid cow! Your daughter is a murderer!” Claudia’s face turned beat red with her rising anger and the soothing sounds she emitted changed into a high-pitched whine that hurt Soren’s ears. His hands went up to try to keep the sound out, but it did no good. It felt as if long fiery needles were piercing into his eardrums.

  “The miserable, selfish bitch killed my father!” Claudia screamed and started slapping Anita again and again, alternating between each hand. “I hate her! I hate her! I HATE HER!” she screamed, letting out all her anger and grief on the broken woman who could not fight back.

  Asa rushed over. “That’s enough, Claud… that’s enough…,” he said as he corralled Claudia’s swinging arms and pinning them in his embrace, trying to calm her. Shocked out of her fit by Asa’s presence, the high piercing sound suddenly stopped and the pain vanished.

  Soren was stunned that Claudia was able to do something like that, and that Anita was Val’s mother. That meant that Isaac, Paul, and Petra were Val’s siblings. He inwardly cringed at the thought, and his fingers began making the folds again. He thought Val deserved better. She wasn’t bad like the devil spawn. She didn’t hurt people on purpose, she just got angry sometimes and wanted to be alone.

  Then he remembered that Claudia and Asa had been crying as they had come out of that room, because people had died. Did Val use her ability to wreck that room? If she was fighting against the bad guys that means she’s one of the good guys. Where is she now? Is she a prisoner somewhere in the tower? Or is she safe with Big Man?

  Maybe he did need to talk with Claudia…

  Brenna began playing again as Marin came over and knelt down in front of him. Brushing his shaggy hair behind his ears, she asked if he was okay, acting as if she was concerned. If she was really concerned about me she’d get me out of this place and take me home.

  Soren tensed when she came in close to hug him. “I’m on your side,” she whispered in his ear as she slipped something into his pocket. The weight of the round, flat object felt as obvious as a boulder, but no one seemed to notice what Marin had done. “Give this to Eric when you see him.”

  Eric? Marin is friends with Eric?

  She pulled away and turned to look towards Claudia, who had broken down crying and was bawling unintelligible words into Asa’s shoulder. Without another glance at Soren, Marin stood up to check on Anita. The woman had angry red splotches on her face from Claudia’s slaps, and a little bit of blood leaked from her ears, but she seemed oblivious to it and reverted to her clockwork glitch. “Salvarla…salvarla…”

  Save her… Save her…

  Soren was about come out of his safe place to inspect what he was sure was a large coin in his pocket, when he felt the prickly burn of Markus and Grandma Mara’s stares on him.

  He hoped that if he stayed hidden in the safe place and did not initiate eye contact, they would lose interest. But with a sinking feeling in his belly, he saw Markus and Mara stride towards him in his periphery. His fingers moved faster as his fear grew.

  “Soren, stop fidgeting and stand up,” Grandma Mara commanded when they reached him.

  Soren’s hands stilled and his clockwork carapace stood up, but he continued to keep himself safely hidden.

  “Your great-grandfather wishes to speak with you,” she explained. “You will be respectful and obedient and listen to
every word his says, do you understand?”

  The command was too abstract to compel him, but he nodded that he understood. He did not want to be slapped like Anita or punched like Wyatt.

  Markus put a hand on Grandma Mara’s shoulder and squeezed. He whispered, “Samara,” as if he was saying something completely different.

  She closed her eyes and gave a curt nod in response. Markus was about to say something else, but one of the suited men came over with a high-tech device that reminded Soren of a small walkie-talkie.

  “Ma’am, it’s Gregory. He wants to speak with you.”

  After a quick bracing breath, Mara took the device and walked over by the cold, empty fireplace.

  Markus gave a sad sigh, before motioning to Soren follow. When they approached the doors, some suited men tried to follow, but Markus waved them away. “I want to talk to my great-grandson alone.”

  The coin burned in Soren’s pocket, begging to be inspected and deciphered, but he kept his hands on the hem of his shirt and dutifully followed. He didn’t want to risk someone taking it away from him before he had a chance to figure out what it was or why Marin had given it to him.

  As soon as they were away from the crush of anxious people, it felt like a heavy weight had lifted from him. Cautious, Soren emerged from his safe place so he could be present and Markus wouldn’t think that he wasn’t listening or being disrespectful. As he emerged, Soren was surprised by Markus’s lack of anger or worry. Instead, he felt only a distant sadness and a kind of tired finality coming from the old man.

  *****

  Cam stood behind Myles, looking over his shoulder at the monitor as Harper spoke to one of the asshats over a comm in Gregory’s voice. Dang, if I had ability like that I’d speak like James Earl Jones’s all the flippin’ time.