by Black, Regan
Cali gave her an odd look. "You don't trust us." She held up a hand to stall Mira's protest. "I get it, really I do. But everyone in this room had to hide their true nature at some point. If you're going to be yourself anywhere, this is a good place to start."
"Fine." Mira's patience snapped. "To be honest you're showing me more about the history of my order than I ever knew. Do I understand how I survived the explosion? No. Do I understand why my order hates my father? No. Do I understand what the hell is going on here or why Callahan thinks I need to be 'saved' from something? No.
"Do I want to know? Not really." She wanted to escape, to leave Chicago and all these strange events far behind. When would they realize she was just a healer, not a scholar, and certainly not a spy? "I don't want to know," she repeated, the temper gone as fast as it surfaced. "I'm completely out of my element."
"Let's give it a rest," Jameson said.
Mira knew he meant well, but she didn't want his pity or even his protection. She twitched her hand away from Petra and crossed her arms. Knowing she must look like a petulant child, she couldn't bring herself to care. She was too frustrated and overwhelmed with everyone's theories and expectations.
On some unseen signal, the crowd filed out of the room. Jameson touched her shoulder, but she jerked away.
She knew she was being unreasonable and downright bitchy, but she just couldn't process any of this under the watchful eye of so many witnesses. Three days of her life were simply gone. Worse, Luke had a three day head start with her father. She couldn't decide if that was good news or bad. How could she honor her mother's direction when she apparently didn't know anything real about her dad?
When everyone was gone and the room was still, Mira noticed Cali had left her research up on the screen. Mira used the remote to look through it at her own pace, searching for something familiar, something that would make sense.
She saw the genealogy, followed Cali's highlighted trail of her father's ancestors and gasped at the implication. The lineage would certainly explain her father's raw talent, but not why he'd moved so abruptly into pure research. It sure didn't explain why her parents had never even hinted at such old and powerful connections.
She read the text, probably translated by Cali. Obviously written by someone within the healer sect of generations long gone, the text alluded to a healer's profound change. Caught between two camps at war, trying to help the wounded, a brave healer had been absorbed by a bluish light, presumed dead, and later 'reborn'. The text on the screen was a remarkably poetic account full of passion and courage.
Mira had felt nothing as dramatic as the author depicted, although the footage from the lab was shocking.
She had a vague recollection of the poetic version of the heroic healer legend from her early childhood, and it had been addressed to some practical degree in every year of her formal education at the academy. Looking at this, she realized how much her order had watered it down. In her community the account had been taught as a fairy tale, a warning, and later as a simple hypothesis.
Whatever. At the moment she'd love to know how the 'blessed' healer felt and what she did with her life afterward.
The Guardian, Cali, she trusted, but the rest of them? She wanted to, but even Jameson put her on edge right now. Rubbing her arms, she grudgingly admitted the edginess probably had more to do with this weird new energy humming just under her skin.
Maybe Cali had access to some long forgotten text from the healer's point of view. She skimmed through the information, looking for a footnote, a reference, anything. Surely there was a journal somewhere. Did people only care about how the healer's change affected them?
Her stupid question stopped her short. Well of course they did. Healers were respected, but it was usually a respect based on fear. And in the era when this text was written, people had just as often thought healers were possessed by demons as blessed by heaven.
She supposed she could see it from the general population's point of view. It was hard enough even now to explain her innate knowledge and ability to knit a broken bone or purge an infection. But back when people didn't know what infection was, back when they thought disease was a curse or a punishment? No wonder the healers had been frequently accused of all sorts of ill advised spiritual alliances. The healers of that time probably didn't have the words to explain it all themselves.
"Maybe the Five have a point," she muttered.
"The Five refers to your judicial system?"
Mira spun around to see Cali standing at the counter, a cup of coffee in her hand. She couldn't really resent the woman for staying. They probably all thought she needed a babysitter after her tantrum.
"It's an easy question, Mira."
"Yes." She cleared her throat. "The 'Five' is shorthand for the group of healers who oversee and judge other healers who might have stepped out of line. They judged my father, more than once, but I didn't know he'd been officially shunned."
"You were pretty young when it happened."
Mira thought about that, about the familiar feelings she'd had just recently at the old family dormitory near the lab. "I think that must have been when he went into research."
"Probably." Cali sipped her coffee.
"When we were near the lab, I felt like I remembered the place."
"Makes sense. That is about the time he turned his skills toward improving troop safety and making noise about health care accessibility. Any idea why the enforcers are giving you grief?"
"Other than escaping my inquiry?"
Cali laughed. "That could be enough, but Gideon thinks there's more to it."
Mira snorted and looked back to the screen.
"I'm inclined to agree with him."
"Trust me, running from an inquiry is more than enough. I should've just returned with the enforcers and saved Jameson the pain of that fight."
"Why didn't you?"
Mira scrubbed at her face. She felt tired, except her physical energy levels were fine. Weary was the better word for the emotional exhaustion pressing in on her. "I didn't want to lose my gift. My mom told me the deliberation was merely a formality. They'd decided before they even questioned me. Because I'm Luther's daughter.
"Enforcers know how to cause the most severe bodily harm with the least amount of outward evidence. Once they'd jumped Jameson, I couldn't just leave him to deal with the injuries on his own."
"Of course not."
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not. Trust me, Mira. I've been where you are. Lost, confused, searching for the way forward."
Mira felt her lips twitch. "You found it. With Kristoff's prize experiment too, the way I heard it." She'd heard the rumors that after Cali rescued Nathan from the prison, they'd been in a life or death battle against Dr. Kristoff, one of the world's top geneticists. Unfortunately, he'd been a power hungry bastard who didn't care about people.
Cali grinned, clearly proud of herself. "It was touch and go there for a while. But Nathan looks good, right?"
"So do you."
"I told the others about my leg. Specifically how it never gets hurt anymore."
"That's good, I guess."
"You don't remember how you did it?"
Mira shook her head. "I know you arrived wounded. I touched you and recognized you as one of the Guardians. Maybe who you are had as much to do with your lasting benefits as anything I did for you in that moment. Healing you wasn't an obligation," Mira rushed on when Cali frowned. "It was a little outside the norm, though. You presented a straightforward acute injury, but I was more drained than usual afterward. But that helped me convince Jameson's supervisor I had nothing to do with anything connected with the escape."
Cali shook her head. "He was an ass."
"Big fish, small pond." Mira shrugged. "It worked out. You, Nathan, and Jameson are all safe now."
"I wish we could say the same for you."
"It's my father who's in jeopardy."
"Mira, I'm not sure your fat
her is much more than a pawn being used to trap you."
She shook her head. "That doesn't make sense. He's been aggravating the healer orders for years, beyond just the local community north of here. His opinions combined with his talent, offended a lot of people. He insisted on taking risks to help patients, despite how those risks might bring the healer community into the public view. They pushed him out and started spouting the safety motto."
Mira didn't like the hard look Cali was giving her, as if she was blind to the obvious. "What?"
"Don't they tell you anything?"
"Anything beyond 'the world is a scary place, stay home'? No, not really."
"But surely your father tried to teach you more." Cali sighed. "You know, I grew up kind of like you, apart from the rest of the world. It's not easy to have a desire to help and be scolded – or worse – for doing what feels right."
She had a point, as much as Mira hated to admit it. The little she knew of the Guardians, she knew it was a male dominated society and the clans often lived in seclusion. Yet Cali clearly had full access to all kinds of records. Healers were taught to recognize the different biometrics of Guardians as the pact between them went back forever. While her curiosity was piqued and plenty of questions begged to be asked, she had the feeling Cali wouldn't let her get away with the distraction.
What intellectual leap did Cali want her to take?
She chewed on her lip while she read the text one more time. Reviewed the footage with an eye on that blue light that sheltered her from the explosion.
What had she done to protect herself? Where had that protective energy come from?
She backtracked to the point where her father had let her siphon off a bit of his pain. Watching the tension ease from his shoulders made her feel better about her small efforts.
"He was working on an anticoagulant serum. Something that would be stable long term in a projectile – a bullet. Something like that would mean a victim could bleed out before or even during treatment. Can you imagine the effect in a battle?"
"Devastating."
"That's putting it mildly."
"I'll let Gideon know."
"Thanks. Please let him know it's not something my father would willingly do. He was all about preserving life." She slumped into a chair. None of this was her idea of a good time. Leave the research and development, the war mongering, the spy games to people who knew what they were doing.
"Cali, I'm sorry, but I can't make it make sense. Give me a cancer patient. I can fix that."
"You can cure cancer?"
Mira smiled at the other woman's astounded expression. She looked like a poster child for shock and awe. "Consider it graduate level work. Most of us can stem the tide in early stages. The least talented of healers can manage pain and symptoms better than current therapies in advanced cases."
"Well." Cali's dark eyes glinted with temper. "I have serious issues with whoever oversees education and public service ideals in your community, but that can wait. Do you want my theory about what I've discovered about healers? Your dad in particular?"
Mira nodded. Maybe something Cali had to say would snap all this into place. Maybe it would give her the nugget of information to put her on Luke's trail.
"I think your dad is from a very powerful line of healers. Based on the ridiculous neglect your community has shown their history, I'd say he has powerful enemies too. Someone might even be purposely suppressing your history. What I've got is mostly guesswork, but looking at your dad's professional record, I think his enemies tried to get rid of him. When he kept landing on his feet, they tried to push him into a crisis that would bring on a blue bubble moment."
Mira choked on a laugh that felt suspiciously like panic. "We can't call it anything different?" She rolled to her feet and started pacing for fear she'd curl up into a ball again.
Cali winked. "Hey, it fits. But I don't think your dad had that moment. Can you recall what you were thinking in the lab, just before you changed? For lack of a better term."
"Yes." Mira shivered a bit at the memory. "I was thinking about safety or a safe haven. Jameson shouted, Luke did something and then the flash and heat were insane. I thought I'd die. Was sure of it. Then I decided I wanted to live. And I felt like I just sort of curled up inside myself."
"And something inside you must have flexed outward to fulfill that survival instinct."
She shrugged. "Makes as much sense as anything else."
"Gideon is thinking whoever didn't get what they wanted from your dad is now looking to you for whatever you'd rather call that blue bubble. You're a powerful person, Mira."
Mira felt tears welling. She didn't feel powerful, she felt dense.
"Do you know the first blue bubble healer's name?"
"You know I don't." But she had a terrible feeling she knew what Cali was about to say.
"Her name was Miranda."
Mira's knees buckled. Could it be true? She didn't know which she wanted more, denial or confirmation of everything Cali was implying. "It's just a name."
Cali snorted, clearly disagreeing. "Whether your parents know all that," she waved at the monitor, "and named you intentionally or not doesn't really matter. Whoever your father's enemies are, it's most likely they now have you lumped in with him."
"That's crazy. Our community disagrees about a lot of things, but we don't sabotage each other."
"Really? You don't think it's sabotage to take away a healer's gift because they were out there trying to help someone?"
Mira silently conceded the terrifying point.
"Theoretically, controlling you gives your father's enemies what they want. If they succeed in stripping away your gift, you're not a threat. If you go all blue on them in the process, they have a shiny new toy."
"That's a horrible thing to say."
"Yes it is. But, Mira, I think it might very well be the reality. If most healers can cure cancer, what do you think you specifically can do now that you survived that explosion and saved Jameson too?"
Even with the intellectual and medical advancements of the day, Mira didn't have words for what Cali was suggesting.
Cali seemed to understand her distress. "I'm not sure what will convince you. I've translated some additional texts, the deeper secrets of the healer orders. I'm going to give you some time to read up while I tell Gideon what your dad was working on."
Mira gaped at her. "How did you translate a dead language?"
"A little blood, a little sweat, a little time." Cali winked again. "We've all got gifts. Want any company?"
Mira understood Cali referred to Jameson. She owed him an apology. "Sure. Thanks, Cali."
"You're welcome. It's good to be in the city this time of year. I'm glad Gideon called. Didn't realize I missed it so much."
Then she was out the door and Mira was alone with a wealth of information she'd never seen before.
* * *
Jameson hated that she'd tossed him out of the room right along with the others, but Slick Micky assured him she was safe and she couldn't run away. Resigned to giving her room to think and sort out some of this with Cali, he joined Callahan and Burkhardt for a workout.
"This place is incredible," he said when they walked into the gym.
Callahan shot him a look. "Thought you'd been here before."
Jameson tried to shrug it off, but Callahan reached out and pulled him into a headlock.
"I know the smuggler has a stealth suit. Just as I know you managed to lose one somewhere along the way."
Jameson twisted, tried to trip up his CO and missed, counting himself lucky when Callahan dropped him on the mat rather than the cement floor.
"Come on." He reached out a hand, but Jameson wasn't dumb enough to take it.
He rolled away, getting to his feet and leaving some room between them.
"So what did this enforcer do?"
Jameson tried to describe it. "He went in like he was going to break the guy's neck." Jameson moved his arm
around an invisible opponent accordingly. "But then he rolled his hand or something. The guy went down, completely silent, completely dead, but the neck was in tact."
"Better than burning to death," Nathan said.
Jameson agreed. "And nothing to suggest foul play, unless they have enough remains to realize the guy didn't inhale any smoke."
"Neither did you, from the sound of it."
"I had plenty, thanks."
"Maybe Mira knows the move."
"Probably. She sure as hell knows which nerve the move affects."
Callahan nodded and motioned Nathan forward. Jameson watched them spar for a bit, then moved off to a nearby treadmill. Looking around he thought he might be in the wrong business. Slick Micky had one sweet little empire going here.
Maybe he should retire and help out with smuggler security. Or if not here, then some other company in town. The smuggler was connected to everything and everyone owed him a favor.
The military had been good to him, he'd seen every nasty corner of the world and a few of the nicer locations along the way. It might be nice to stay in one place for a while and travel when and where he wanted to travel.
He adjusted the incline and gradually increased his speed until his quads were burning. Hitting that runner's high felt almost as good as running in the mountains as his breath sawed in and out of his lungs.
A few less orders and a more predictable schedule might be nice. And when a Soldier started thinking seriously along those lines it was time to get out, but the idea of real retirement made him pause.
"I warmed him up. Now it's your turn," Nathan said, pointing to the mat. "He's in a vicious mood."
Of course now that he'd clocked a couple hard miles the CO wanted a crack at him. "He's not the only one," Jameson muttered.
This whole operation sucked. Boring observation detail, blatant attacks from bizarre-o people who were supposed to heal others. Worse, on a personal level he'd found the one woman who mattered and now she'd changed into something – someone – he wasn't sure he could have.