by Jade Kerrion
Slowly Danyael sank to sit by the door. He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaned his head against the wall, and relaxed, smiling as he watched them play.
~*~
When Danyael limped out of the barracks an hour later, the general, his aides, and Reyes were waiting for him. Reyes reached him even before the outer doors had fully closed. The old man shook his head and pulled Danyael into a hug. His voice was rough, choked with emotion. “You took years off my life. What were you doing in there?”
Danyael closed his eyes as the warmth of Reyes’s emotions surrounded him. Tension flowed out of the taut muscles in his shoulders and back. One friendship could make all the difference in the world, he reflected with equal parts of gratitude for it, and bitterness that he needed it.
The general strode up to Danyael. “What’s your assessment of the super soldiers?”
“Physically, the super soldiers are mature, but mentally and emotionally, they’re not. They’re children, trying to figure out their world. They are more curious than violent.”
“But the professor—”
“The soldiers’ strength, agility, and speed come from animal genes, but a mature lion is cautious and wary. It doesn’t attack anything and everything it sees. The apparent lack of impulse control in the super soldiers comes from the fact that they’re little more than toddlers. They are unaware of their own strength, and their curious exploration of the world comes across to us as violence. When we respond with violence, they become afraid and strike back. We conditioned their violence. We made them what they are.”
The general shook his head. “That’s impossible.”
“General, I spent weeks reviewing Professor’s Sadgati’s research, but learned more about the super soldiers by spending an hour in there with them. What they did two days ago supports my belief that—”
The general’s blue eyes were intent on Danyael. “And what exactly do you think they did two days ago?”
“They spared my life.”
“Because you spared theirs. I read Major Chandler’s report. You could have killed them with your emotional pain, but you knocked them out with physical pain instead. Why?”
“Because murder should never be the first weapon in your arsenal,” Danyael retorted. He gritted his teeth as he tried to restrain his anger. “You and the professor were right about one thing: the alpha telepaths can’t pull this off. Children need emotional connection. You need alpha empaths.” He glanced at the closed door of the enclosure. “You asked me to train them, and that’s my appraisal of the situation.”
“So what are you planning to do now?”
Danyael knew that the general was asking about his plans for training the super soldiers, but he evaded the question. Instead, he said, “You have four other barracks, right? I need to see the other super soldiers too.”
“Not tonight,” the general said. “You get a good night’s sleep, and you can see the others tomorrow. We’ll give you security access to the barracks so that you can enter whenever you wish. I ask only that you let the central command station know when you plan to go in, so that they can monitor the situation.”
Danyael nodded.
“Meanwhile,” the general continued, “Jana is very concerned about your lack of physical progress. She says you haven’t been eating or sleeping well for months. If you’re going to take on the challenge of training the super soldiers, you need to be in top form.”
“I know. It’ll be better, I promise.”
Reyes patted Danyael on his back. “Let’s get dinner now, and you can call it an early night.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated at their regular table in the cafeteria. “Been a while,” Reyes said as he started on his minestrone soup. “The last time we had a meal together was two months ago, the day the super soldiers turned on their trainers and killed them.”
Danyael knew all too well. He hadn’t had a full meal since.
“How have you been doing?” Reyes asked.
Danyael looked up. “Don’t you know?”
Reyes flushed.
Danyael turned his face away, heartache roiling through him. It was one thing to know, intellectually, that he was being manipulated. It was another to receive confirmation of it. It hurt, even though he had justified his final decision to work with the super soldiers as inevitable, given his lack of long-term options.
Reyes said quietly, “Danyael, I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“But you’re still angry.”
“Not with you.”
“With the general?”
Danyael shook his head. “With myself, for being susceptible to emotional blackmail. I don’t know if I would have chosen any differently, eventually, but it leaves a bitter taste to know that I got here this way.”
Reyes nodded. “I understand. I would feel the same if I were in your position.” The old man’s shoulders slumped as he slowly gathered his tray and pushed to his feet.
“No, don’t go,” Danyael said, his voice scarcely louder than a whisper. “You could have been killed two days ago. Amanda too. I’m doing this for you, both of you. I can keep you safe.”
Reyes lowered himself into his seat. “Even after everything you know I did to you…”
Danyael looked away.
“Danyael, look at me.”
He braced himself before raising his head to meet Reyes’s gaze.
Reyes looked old and tired. “I’m sorry you ever thought that there was a price to pay for my friendship. There isn’t. Can we start over?”
The crushing pressure against Danyael’s chest relaxed enough to allow him to draw a deep breath of air. “Yes.”
“Thank you,” Reyes’s smile wavered. He blinked hard, his eyes glistening.
Danyael inhaled deeply. Experience had taught him not to place his hope in others, but his yearning heart checked his cynical mind. I’ve made my choice. It’s time to stop doubting and start living again.
~*~
Kieran Howard looked up as the door of his office opened. “Reyes, come in. Sit.” He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. The old man sat. Kieran, however, chose to stand. “How is Danyael doing?”
“He turned in early. He’s tired, though he never complains. He knows what we—what I have been doing to him, emotionally isolating him—”
“Really? What did he say?”
“He acknowledged the inevitability of his decision. I think he would have come to the same place eventually, just not soon enough.”
“He didn’t spend the past two months sulking, though. Did he talk about the research he did on Sadgati’s work?”
“Yes. It appears to have been quite thorough. He referred to work spanning several decades in psychology, cognitive science, sociology, and zoology, including behavioral ecology and ethology.” Reyes shrugged. “We’ve underestimated him. Most people who look at him never get past the fact that he looks like an angel, and those who do, don’t make it past the aura of mystery associated with his empathic powers. We forget, to our detriment, that Danyael is also extremely bright.”
“I’ve never underestimated Danyael’s intelligence,” Kieran retorted. “When Lucien found Danyael, the physicians thought Danyael was mentally disabled. At twelve, he couldn’t read—he barely knew the alphabet—but six years later, he was accepted, on his own merits, to Harvard University, and then four years after that to the Johns Hopkins Medical School. All he needed was a chance, and Lucien gave it to him. Emotionally, Danyael may be a wreck, but there is nothing wrong with the way his brain works. Also, let’s not forget who his father is; Rakehell is nothing short of brilliant.”
“Then you think Danyael’s right in his assessment of the super soldiers?”
Kieran remained silent for several moments. “Very likely, yes. Sadgati herself indicated that emotions were the key to controlling the super soldiers. Who better to understand their emotions than an alpha empath? Danyael has no reason to lie to us.”
> “And you’re going to let him persist in his insane plan to win the confidence of the super soldiers by sitting alone, unprotected, in their barracks all day?”
“As long as Danyael can protect himself, I’m willing to let him try whatever he has in mind My telepaths are out of their league. They even have trouble sensing the super soldiers—something to do with the fact that their minds are not entirely human.”
“Are you saying that the super soldiers are psychic ghosts?”
“In much the same way that most telepaths don’t pick up on the presence of animals. Telepaths aren’t trained to do so.”
Reyes frowned. “The super soldiers must be particularly susceptible to telekinetics then, especially since their minds aren’t sophisticated enough to resist manipulation.”
Kieran leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “Animals, like unshielded humans and inanimate objects, are susceptible to telekinetics, but only if the telekinetic is mentally capable of picking it up. A housecat is susceptible to most telekinetics, but only the most powerful alphas will be able to pick up a six-hundred-pound lion. The super soldiers range from three hundred to three hundred and fifty pounds. An average telekinetic wouldn’t be able to move them. Most of my alphas can’t move them.”
“So the telepaths and telekinetics can’t do anything to the super soldiers, but the weakest of the mutants—the empath—can?”
“Ironic, isn’t it, how much more powerful emotions can be, under the right circumstances? At any rate, my telepaths have had their shot at it. We’ll give the alpha empath a chance now.”
Reyes nodded. “As long as he’s not at risk.”
“Danyael is too precious, too rare, to be put at risk, but I’m surprised to hear you say it. Are you growing attached to him?”
Reyes steepled his hands beneath his chin. “It’s hard not to. Once you get past the repulsive effect of his psychic shields, it’s clear that Danyael is a remarkable and compelling young man. I wish…”
“You wish?”
Reyes shook his head. “Nothing. It’s not important.”
“I will not put Danyael at risk, Reyes. I promise you.”
Reyes nodded, though he said nothing. He stood and shuffled out of Kieran’s office.
Whether or not the old man truly agreed or was merely playing along, Kieran could not tell. It was not important, either way. Danyael had come around.
Kieran had never been closer to realizing his vision. How many more lives will be saved? His gaze drifted toward the framed photograph of a young man in uniform that dominated the wall directly across from his desk. John, Tim, you and all those alpha telepaths who died did not die for nothing. We have Danyael. Kieran closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell on a breath of relief and gratitude. We finally have Danyael.
Kieran knew, though, to be cautious. He pulled up Danyael’s file on his computer, and after several moments of careful consideration, he added a single line to it. Far more powerful than anticipated. Kieran had sown the wind; now he had to pray he would not reap the whirlwind.
~*~
Danyael had just turned off his bedroom lights when a soft knock sounded on the door. Slowly, his body aching, he dragged himself out of his bed and went to the door. He swung it open and blinked in surprise. “Amanda?”
She leaned against the doorframe and smiled up at him. “I heard that you signed up for the super soldier program today.”
He nodded.
“Thank you. I’m so glad.” She paused for a beat and then stepped forward into his personal space.
With a sigh, he stepped back to allow her into his suite.
She slipped in past him, spun around, and grinned at him. “Okay, so you’re not completely clueless. How are you doing?”
“I’ll be all right.”
“You ever get tired of saying that?”
“No. Just let me know when you’re sick of hearing it.”
“You look tired.”
“It’s been a long day.” Perhaps she would take the hint and leave.
She shrugged. “That excuse doesn’t exempt you from smiling.”
“Major, I need to rest.”
Amanda winced. “Ouch. You really do know how to disappoint a girl.”
“It’s not personal.”
“Men always say that before they break your heart.” She didn’t look heartbroken, and neither did she seem inclined to leave. “When was the last time you were in a relationship?”
“Why?”
“Because you seem out of practice, way out of practice.” Amanda glided around him, stroking a finger lightly across the breadth of his shoulders. “You’re very tense.”
He spun around, catching her wrists in his hands. “Stop.”
“When I’ve finally gotten a reaction from you? I don’t think so.”
Danyael gritted his teeth. “This isn’t a joke.”
She shook her head slightly, blond hair swaying. “It wasn’t intended to be.” The teasing humor drained from her face. “What’s wrong? Why are you keeping your distance?”
He released her hands and looked away. “It’s been a long time.”
“I gathered that. Maybe it’s time to break that dry spell,”
“It’s not that easy.”
She reached out to caress his cheek. “It shouldn’t have to be that difficult. You’re worried about your psychic shields, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m an alpha telepath; my psychic shields are solid. You won’t have to worry about your shields falling and your empathic powers killing me while you sleep.”
“Great, that’s a load off my mind.”
Amanda’s smile turned rueful. “Say it like you mean it, Danyael.” She stepped up to him, laced her fingers around the back of his neck, and tugged him down. “I’d like a kiss, if you don’t mind.”
They were so close he could feel her breath, soft and warm against his skin. He fought the desperate, instinctive need to pull away.
As if she understood his turmoil, she whispered into his ear. “Stop fighting. It won’t hurt. Give yourself a chance.”
She closed the distance. Her lips brushed gently over his, teasing his resistance away.
Danyael surrendered to the moment as his body succumbed. His mind, however, lay locked behind psychic shields, taunted by memories of a dark-haired, violet-eyed assassin.
~*~
Danyael.
Danyael’s eyes flashed open. Beside him, Amanda slept, her slim body curled against his, both their bodies naked beneath the sheets. The dim nightlight dispelled enough of the shadows to reassure him that he was safe in his suite at the headquarters of Mutant Assault Group. Even so, he waited for the nightmares and memories to fade and his racing heartbeat to settle before acknowledging the quiet voice in his mind. Miriya.
Her reply came immediately. How are you?
He stamped down the surge of frustration, of need. Where have you been?
Away.
I missed you. The confession, an outcry from his heart, caught him off guard. He grimaced. He clearly needed more practice in censoring his thoughts.
I’m sorry. I was…busy. You seem better.
You missed the two months when I wasn’t.
What happened?
He propped himself up on his elbows and slowly dragged himself to a sitting position. It doesn’t matter; it’s done.
What is?
Miriya, did you ever see one of the abominations created by Pioneer Labs?
Yes. You did too, not that you’d remember. We fought them several times. You killed one of them.
He recoiled. I did? How?
You drove it to suicide. It was…messy. Human suicide is bad enough, but an abomination can commit suicide in extremely inventive ways.
I don’t want to know.
I’ll tell you anyway. Miriya’s tone was full of ironic cheer. It tore open its chest cavity, breaking ribs in the process, and yanked out its heart.
> What?
Like I said, messy.
Danyael shook his head, grateful that he could not remember. What were they like?
Ugly. Really ugly.
I meant cognitively.
Oh. They couldn’t communicate verbally, but it didn’t matter. They were intuitively telepathic and—
Danyael’s eyes narrowed. They were telepathic?
Yeah. I heard them talk to each other.
What did they say?
Whatever passes for battle tactics in damnably strong and fast creatures that don’t need battle tactics. “Attack this. Attack that.” Zero subtlety. Galahad was able to communicate with them, even though he’s not telepathic.
Then how—
Miriya said dryly, Let’s just call it “kinship” and leave it at that. I think they considered him their brother.
Considered?
Most of them were killed eventually. Only one remains, and I have no idea where it is. Maybe Galahad does. Why do you ask?
Danyael hesitated. No particular reason, he said finally. The super soldiers were his problem, not Miriya’s. She would not care about his predicament.
I’m sorry I was away for so long, Danyael.
He smiled in the darkness, a sad smile. His gaze drifted to Amanda who slept soundly beside him. He had lost Lucien and Zara to Galahad. Someday, he would have to let Miriya go, too, and embrace the new life he was making for himself with the Mutant Assault Group.
Someday, but not yet.
He sighed softly. It’s all right. Thank you for coming back. It’s all that matters.
~*~
Miriya shook her head sharply to clear her mind from the contact with Danyael’s. She looked across the room at Xin. The lights were dim, the hour late, yet Miriya knew that if she concentrated, she would hear the sound of quiet footsteps and voices along the corridor outside her guest suite at the Mutant Affairs Council headquarters. “You were right,” Miriya conceded with a frown.
“Danyael told you about the program?” Xin asked.
“No, but he asked about the abominations. He wouldn’t have had any reason to unless he’s wrestling with the concept of another genetically modified creature, well-adapted for fighting, right?”