by Megan Derr
Cyan did not bother to add 'like ours', but they both were thinking it. Jade would never see past the murders, or that Cyan had not supported him. "Must you do this? Why can't you let it go? Be happy that you have me, that we're alive."
"I don't have you," Jade said coldly. "You chose to ignore your family, to not care that our parents were murdered, to walk away—"
"They're dead!" Cyan shouted. "Getting revenge won't bring them back. They're gone. Instead of seeing me, instead of trying to be a family with what was left, you put all your attention on revenge. It's always about you; it always was. I was right there the whole time, and you never saw me. No one did. I'm your brother, your stars-damned twin, and even you never saw me except as something to mock and hurt."
Jade did not respond to the tirade at first, simply stared at him, until Cyan looked away with a rough sound. Finally, Jade said, "You're a fool and a coward. You never would accept who you are, you defied Mother and Father at every turn—"
"You helped me!" Cyan snarled. "You helped me learn to fight, pointed me to the Auths—"
Jade tossed his hair and smirked. "It kept you out of my way, made it easier to get what I wanted. If you had just accepted your life and made the most of it, I would have been forced to work a lot harder at getting what I wanted. Precious Cyan, so earnest and good and stubborn." He sneered.
Cyan said nothing.
"You ran from duty, from your family—you are very good at running, dear brother, I will concede that."
"I don't run all the time," Cyan whispered, even as the words cut. He didn't always run. He'd never run from a fight, except when it came to fighting Jade. Einn and the way he made Cyan feel terrified him, but he hadn't run away. Even now, as the agony of Einn being dead cut through him once more, he was glad for what he'd had, that he had not run as he probably should have.
Cyan's vision blurred. He'd been trying not to think about Einn because it just hurt too fucking much. "I will never forgive you for killing my friends, Jade. You can keep me prisoner all you like, it'll never make me give a damn about you. Not now."
Jade just laughed. "Your friends? Or is it that you're mad I killed your little Fornarian fuck toy?"
Cyan snarled and lunged blindly at Jade, screaming in agony when the collar activated, but keeping his hands around Jade's throat, squeezing with all the strength he had left. Nails raked his face, searing his skin and adding to the agony already tearing through him. He couldn't breathe, but he would be damned if he let go—
Rall tore him away and threw him on the bed, and Cyan finally gave up. The sound of the door closing made him glance up cautiously, and he glared when he saw Jade was still in the room, looming from the foot of the bed. "Rehab hasn't been good for you, brother."
"It's been great," Cyan replied, smugly enjoying the bruises already forming on Jade's throat, the way his voice was not quite as smooth as it had been only moments ago. "You still haven't explained why setting Cohen up to fall is revenge for murdering our parents."
"They'll find the evidence for that after they arrest him for everything else. When they do, he'll know he was played for a fool the entire time, exactly as he played Mother and Father, exactly as he thinks he has been playing me."
Cyan shook his head. "Mom and Dad would be appalled by your behavior. They'd be ashamed of you."
Jade tsked softly and moved around the bed to the side, reaching out to pat Cyan's head as he would a child's. "Cyan, our parents were ruthless politicians. They pushed hard to murder an entire race. No matter how they prettied it up, you of all people know that murder is murder. Our parents were not nice people. You would have finally gotten a taste of that if you really had gone ahead with your plans to defy them and joined the Auths."
"They would not have done as you did."
"You're a fool."
Cyan said nothing more, refusing to be further baited. No matter what Jade said, their parents had been good people. Jade was the only twisted one. "You can't keep me locked up forever, not when people know I'm here."
"You're shaken from your ordeal and only going to be further broken by the revelation that Cohen really was the killer. By the time people expect you to rejoin society, I'll have broken you." He dragged his nails lightly down Cyan's cheek, leaving livid red marks, but not quite breaking skin.
The door opened, and Rall entered carrying chains. Cyan tensed. He could take Rall, he knew that. Once upon a time, it was beyond his abilities, but he was the best of the best on Rehab now. He was better than any Auth. He could take Rall, and even Jade—maybe.
He needed to save Sean and Mendel, but he had absolutely no idea where they were or when Jade's scheming would all come to a head. If he left now, he'd be flying blind and likely in completely the wrong direction. He could run to Pyotr, but he had no faith in that quarter, and so late in the game, what could Pyotr really do?
Easier to wait until Sean and Mendel were arrested and hauled to Zero. They'd be arraigned or taken off quietly somewhere to be dealt with. Jade would be sure to tell him, just to torture him, and Cyan would figure out what to do then.
A sharp slap jerked him from his thoughts. "Pay attention."
Cyan glared at Jade, but said nothing, simply allowed Rall to chain him to the bed. He had no idea how he would get out of the chains, but that was a problem he would deal with later. "I hate you," he told Jade. Jade only smiled and patted his cheek, then turned and strode from the room, Rall on his heels, leaving Cyan alone.
He tugged experimentally at the chains, amused and annoyed that Jade had always preferred such old-fashioned, but regretfully effective means of keeping Cyan where he wanted. The locks, unfortunately, were not old-fashioned—they would require a passcode from Jade or Rall, but it was possible Cyan could fry it. His only real problem was the collar, but that would have to be endured until he could break it off. Hopefully, he'd last long enough to break it off.
Cyan stood up to see how far his chains would let him walk, unsurprised that he could only go a few steps from the bed—too far away from anything useful. Returning to the bed, he looked around his room, taking in the life he had left behind. The life to which he would probably be returning, one way or another. Either Jade would trap him here, or circumstances after Jade was arrested would. Not that he really cared. His only motivation was to save Sean and Mendel.
After that…he just didn't know. His desire to build a life, a real life, had died with Einn.
Chapter Eighteen
Planet 1529208 (Kolstar), Research Facility
Sean's temper finally snapped. He turned on his heel and slammed his cuffed hands into the face of the guard who had grabbed his ass one time too many. The bastard dropped to the ground like a rock, blood pouring from his broken nose. Bending, Sean grabbed his stunner and clubbed him with the butt of it, then stood and aimed the stunner at the other two guards.
It happened quickly, too quickly for anyone to react properly. Sean didn't give them a chance to make up for lost time and didn't waste his own by telling them to drop their weapons and surrender. Instead, he fired, knocking them both out. "I am sick and tired of this stars-damned shit," he said, and dropped the stunner as more guards came pouring out of the facility. "One more of you Bangkok whores touches me, and I'll show you why no one fucks with Rehab. Collared and cuffed doesn't make me helpless."
Mendel chuckled as they were roughly hauled away. "I think you made your point." They were dragged into the building that loomed before them. It was made of rough, dark stone and marked only with numbers. Inside, the lights were dull, gleaming on slick blue tile and a dingy gray floor.
Sean glanced at the various rooms they passed, seeing what he could through the glass panels in each door. They all looked to be along the same lines of Mendel's laboratory on the Brilliant. So they were definitely in the right place, not that he'd ever had any doubt.
Eventually, they passed from the laboratories into what was clearly a wing of holding cells. If there was one thing Sean rec
ognized on a moment, it was a prison. They were led to the very end of the hall and shoved roughly inside; the door locked behind them with two different kinds of locks. Sean sneered at such slack security.
"I am astonished you were not beaten for taking out three of their guards in a temper tantrum."
"They're lucky it was only a temper tantrum," Sean muttered, then said more clearly, "They know I'm not one to fuck with, and that aside, they don't dare damage the goods. I would wager that you are of extreme importance, and they can't hurt me without risking you."
Mendel nodded, sitting down on one of the two small beds that were attached to the wall and meant to be folded up out of the way when not in use. In addition to the beds, there was a sink, a toilet, and a shelf meant to hold soap, washcloths, and other toiletries.
Sean rolled his eyes at that, but if the obviously amateur guards wanted to give him potential weapons, that was fine by him. "I wonder how long we'll stew here before something finally happens. Did you see anyone else? I didn't. This place could be empty, except they don't employ that many guards for an empty building."
"No, but I marked some of the equipment in the labs," Mendel replied. "Definitely a genetics facility, and not just for studying—at least three of the rooms I saw contained life pods. They are definitely trying to create something, not that we really needed confirmation at this point."
"To what end, though?" Sean asked. "It's all illegal; whatever they create will just be destroyed."
"Not if they successfully create a sentient being," Mendel replied. "That was the initial problem with the Draconis. We were meant to be sub-sentient, but wound up being fully sentient, and the IG code says that termination of a sentient being is murder."
Sean's mouth curved in a half-smile. "Nothing but trouble, Draconis."
Mendel tried to smile back, but it faltered and fell. "I may be trouble, but that doesn't mean I had to drag you—"
"Shut up," Sean said, cutting him off. "Whatever happens when this ends, I'm not sorry I met you. I've gotten to be me the past term, in a way I never have before. Even if we're fugitives, I haven't had to hide my magics or pretend I didn't have them. I think my only complaint in this whole mess is that I still haven't gotten to fuck you."
"Your priorities could use a recalibration," Mendel said, but he smiled, and that was all Sean cared about.
Sitting down beside him, Sean leaned in to take a kiss, annoyed that their still-bound hands kept him from touching. "Are they ever going to take these stupid cuffs off of us? I'd rather not cause trouble early by removing them myself."
"Not after your temper tantrum," Mendel replied with a laugh. "I'm more upset about the collars, but there is no way they'll give us a chance to use our magics."
"Not when we can teleport," Sean agreed. "But if they want me to behave, they should tell the guards to stop grabbing my ass. There's only one person with permission to do that."
Mendel laughed again. "I fully intend to make up for all the times I could have, but didn't, once we're out of here."
Sean smiled and kissed him again, trying to believe it would happen, but all he could see was that after this, they would just be moved to a different holding cell.
His thoughts were scattered by another kiss, and he decided thinking was definitely overrated. If he and Mendel had both done less thinking earlier on, they would have had more time together, instead of being on the same ship, but galaxies apart. Mendel's lips were soft and firm, his mouth warm, and he knew exactly how to kiss Sean to distraction.
He was so distracting, in fact, that Sean jumped when the door opened, and someone cleared his throat. "Come on," the guard snapped when they jerked apart. He hauled Sean to his feet, and another grabbed Mendel, leading them back the way they'd come, then down another hallway and a third before stopping in front of a glass-front door.
They spoke to the two guards manning the door, one of whom then opened the door by typing in a long passcode and transmitting a second code via his in-lens. The door slid open, and Sean and Mendel were dragged inside and thrown to the floor. The guards departed, and Sean managed to get himself to his knees, then looked up.
As he'd expected, they were in a laboratory—and there were the life pods Mendel had mentioned seeing in other labs they'd passed. They were empty of specimens, but contained the pale, pink-ish nutrient fluid necessary for such experiments, so they were going to be used soon.
"Dr. Bikendi?" Mendel said, and Sean's gaze snapped to where Mendel was looking at a man who had, until then, gone unnoticed in one corner of the room. The man was of average height, with dusky skin and white hair streaked with black and glowing violet eyes—marks of the Telven. Sean shivered, thinking of the black-skinned Telve back on Rehab and their razor-sharp fangs meant for drinking blood. This man's skin was more brown, though, since he was half Telven, half Kemperast.
So this was Dr. Itzal Bikendi, who was as feared for his heritage as he was respected for his brilliance. "What's going on?" Sean asked, slowly standing up.
"I would have thought that Mendel would have figured it out by now," Bikendi said, scowling at them and making no move to approach. He looked tired, haggard.
"We think we have the general idea," Mendel replied. "We're working on the theory that they want to recreate the Temperast, possibly with a Draconis-style bond."
Bikendi nodded. "Yes, but with some modifications. They want the Temperast to be powerless until matched, and for the Temperast to be the only ones affected by the bond while the soldiers bound to them are largely unaffected. They also want the bond to be tighter. Right now, for every bound couple, there is a twenty-one percent chance that when one person in the bond dies, the other will live. That is a seventy-nine percent chance that both parties will die. They—whoever they are, though I have my suspicions—want that percentage brought as close to one hundred percent as possible."
"Sub-sentient creatures that are forced to rely entirely upon their matches for life and power," Mendel said, "while simultaneously increasing the power and ability of their matches." He balled his trembling hands into fists. "They want to make the Temperast into weaponized Draconis."
"More or less," Bikendi agreed, looking more tired than ever. "I have been running the experiments as ordered, if only because I've nothing better to do with my time, and I do not have to hurt anyone to do my work. I will say I am damned tired of my own blood being drawn, but this is hardly the first group of morons to be overzealous on that point." He pushed up his sleeve to display the bruises and needle marks. "I do not much care for being the scientist and the experiment. You will not enjoy it either."
Mendel made a face in agreement. "Where is everyone else?"
"I have no idea. I have not left this room since I was dragged into it. Samples are brought to me; I never draw the blood myself. It would be a waste of time and resources to kill anyone, but that's all I can tell you."
"Most are probably in those other holding cells we passed," Sean said. "Or the labs, in the case of the other scientists. This place seems to have an abundance of space, so there's no easy way to pinpoint them exactly, unfortunately. So what do you need from me? I'm no scientist and I'm no Draconis."
"But you are a magics capable human," Bikendi pointed out. "You are also matched to Mendel, who is most qualified to help further my studies. They probably put you in here to make him more likely to cooperate—or so they can yank you away if he fails to cooperate. I will need blood samples from both of you."
Sean nodded and began to remove his jacket—then realized he was still cuffed. Bikendi muttered something Sean didn't understand, then went to the door and rapped on it. A moment later, the door opened, and a guard stepped inside. "What?"
"I cannot get work accomplished if they're cuffed," Bikendi said. "Remove their bindings."
"Boss' orders," the guard replied. "One's a killer, the other is ex-Rehab. They stay in the cuffs."
Bikendi sneered. "It is clear to me that I am surrounded by meatbags."
Sean snorted at the uniquely Telven epithet, but one popular amongst criminals. He'd been called one so many times, he scarcely noticed any more. "Mendel is useless to me—to this whole endeavor—unless he can use his hands. What is he supposed do in chains, chitchat over tea? Make him useful or get him out of my sight."
The guard backhanded Bikendi, making the second guard laugh—it was all the distraction Sean needed. He swung his hands into the gut of the nearest guard, and when he doubled over, brought them down on the back of the guard's head. He dropped to the ground and Sean went for the next guy, catching him in the shoulder and knocking him into the counter, then nailing him in the groin. While he was distracted, Sean stole his stunner and fired, knocking him out. He rounded at the last guards, who was trying to retreat to call for help, and fired twice.
Dropping the stunner on the counter, he retrieved the cuff keys and freed Mendel, who immediately freed Sean. Flexing his wrists, Sean dragged the guards back out into the hall, stole another stunner and a knife, then returned to the lab. "Mendel, got that datapad?"
Mendel snorted in amusement and reached into his boot, pulling out a datapad about the length and width of two fingers. "I'm still surprised they did not find it."
Sean laughed. "Underpaid guards do underpaid work." Taking the datapad, he turned it on and pulled wires from his own boot, then used his newly acquired knife to pry off the cover of the door control panel. Syncing the datapad to the panel, he reached into his other boot and pulled out a small, thin case. He opened the case and quickly put the in-lens in place over his right eye.
Ready, he set to work, first jamming the door, then looking for cameras. "Do they not have eyes on this place?"
"No," Bikendi said. "Some of the equipment would interfere anyway, and the guards would have no idea what we're doing. The cells and halls are watched, but not the labs. We just get live attendants and periodic inspections."
Sean nodded and went back to work. It took surprisingly little effort to find what he needed and only a few minutes work to download it all to the datapad.