Elor sat at the table, facing the entrance as he came in.
“Elor!” Jacin cried. He started to rush to her to sweep her into his arms when her hardened look stopped him in his tracks. “Love, what’s wrong? Where are the girls? What’s happened to them? Are they okay?”
“I knew you would come,” she said coolly.
“Of course, Elor. If you sent the guards away, something had to have been wrong.”
“Oh, really? Is that all it took for me to get you to come home? Simply dismiss the guards? I should have kicked them out a long time ago.”
Jacin’s temper rose. “Elor, please don’t tell me you brought me all the way here to have this same argument again.” Jacin took a seat next to her. “You know my work is hard, and I know I don’t come home as often as either one of us would like, but—”
“No. That argument is over. And so are we.”
Jacin blinked. He must have heard wrong. “What?”
She spoke slowly, her face turned away from her husband. “I can’t do this anymore, Jacin. I’m so alone, always alone.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Did you know Valendra turned sixteen last week? She has a boyfriend. And Daith graduated from Lameer Young Adult School last month and took first place in her school’s running competition.” Elor’s composure wavered, her voice shaking, although tears still did not fall. “Did you know I was sick in the hospital for three weeks? I tried to contact you, but they told me you were too busy and to try back in a few days. Every time I called, they gave me the same response.”
Jacin’s heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. He knew he’d been absent a lot—had missed a few family things—but Elor would never leave him. She was probably tired of being stuck home with the girls while he flitted around the galaxy, making a difference.
“Elor—” he said, a smile on his face.
“You think this is funny?” Elor asked. “You actually see humor in this? Great. I hope you still find this situation funny out in space by yourself. The girls and I will be fine without you. Better in fact without protesters and reporters everywhere we go.”
Jacin’s heart raced, but still he clung to denial. “Elor, you don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s talk about this. I promise things will be better—”
“You promise? You promised you would take some time off. You promised to stop working once we had enough money. I’m done with your promises,” she said, spitting the words at him, “and I’m done with you.”
The grin on Jacin’s face faded. She was serious. Not a trick to get him to come home more often. She wanted him gone. But he needed her to stay.
Jacin forced his fear to recede, to keep his mind clear. “I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t home often, but I’m here now. You haven’t lost me.”
“You want to bet?”
Jacin raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish.
“Have you seen yourself?” Elor said. “You look terrible. It’s been two years since I’ve seen you and you seem to have aged ten. Your hair is thinning, your eyes are bloodshot, and your skin is practically hanging off your face. You’ve lost a lot of weight and your clothes—”
“I know my appearance isn’t perfect,” Jacin interrupted, “but my work is demanding. I can’t help someone and then take a break when they need me the most because my clothes are dirty.” His words came out harsh, a reflection of his pent up anger. “You have no right to dictate how I should look when you have no idea how hard this has been. I can’t abandon them because I feel tired and have bad headaches. And I have all those stupid protesters to deal with. I don’t know why they can’t understand I’m helping!”
“You talk about helping those who need you and doing whatever it takes for them, but what about your family? We needed you and you’ve let us down time and again. Who are we supposed to depend on? We were a team and you broke us apart. And the ‘troubles’ you have because of those protestors? Maybe if you stopped to check yourself you’d see you don’t seem like you’re helping anyone.”
Jacin’s anger blossomed. “You don’t agree with the protesters, do you?”
“You have to admit your policies have changed over the last year. I mean, Jacin, you’ve allowed your soldiers to beat and kill innocent beings—”
“Innocent? That’s what they want you to think. They don’t care about me or the reasons behind my work.”
“What reasons?” Elor challenged. “You’ve become more interested in proving yourself right than doing what’s best for others. When’s the last time you healed just to heal? When’s the last time you helped instead of forced?”
Jacin couldn’t believe it. His own wife had turned against him. She, when all others had abandoned him, was supposed to stick by him through any problem, any decision.
Sweat trickled down his forehead. Maybe she really doesn’t love me anymore. I can’t live without her. I need to know for sure.
Using the technique he’d perfected to penetrate the thoughts of hundreds of others—to stop war, to end prejudice, to change governmental ideas—Jacin pushed forward to comb through her mind.
Nothing.
“Why can’t I read you?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your mind—I can’t see what you are thinking.”
Elor’s fingernails dug into the tabletop. “What, now you’re trying to read my thoughts?”
His eyebrows contracted, perplexed. “No one has ever been able to stop me from reading before. How did you do it?”
“Is that all you care about? You used to ask me what I thought.”
“I need to know how you did it. What if others can do this? I need to know so I can counteract it.” He breathed heavily as he inched forward.
“Jacin,” Elor whispered, “what’s happened to you?”
All at once, Jacin felt her fear, like a rush of cold nausea. She had never been afraid of him before. But he had to know how she had counteracted his efforts. Still feeling her fear, he softened his features.
“I’m sorry, Love. I thought I could understand better if I could see what you are thinking. I should never have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t. It’s a good thing Daith showed me how to block my thoughts.” She bit her lip.
Jacin glared at Elor. “Daith has my abilities? How could you not have told me?”
“You think after my attack I would let anyone know about Daith?”
“You had no right to keep that from me,” Jacin snapped.
“I don’t have to tell you anything. We aren’t a family anymore. I don’t love you, not this monster you’ve become. Now get out!”
Jacin’s chest tightened, his stomach a pit of ice. He couldn’t lose her. Something must be wrong with her. She must be sick. He would go inside her. He would fix her. Then she’d love him again.
Jacin built up a larger amount of energy and pushed against her mind. Her blocking bent and folded beneath his momentum. Once through, a huge burst of energy struck him, a wave of heat, knocking him back into his own mind.
“How dare you!” she screamed, backing away from the table.
He licked his lips, rising. “I can fix this. I can fix us.”
Jacin reconnected with her mind. Elor fought back, mentally blocking him again. She put the chair between them.
“Stop it!”
“You’re confused,” he told her, his voice filled with desperation and fierceness. He disregarded the chair. It wouldn’t stop him. “Don’t fight me on this. Just let me in and everything will be the same as before, the way it should be.”
“Do you really think if you force my mind to change you’ll get me back?” Elor’s words fell on deaf ears. He tried to connect with her mind and again a wall of energy forced him out. But her resistance felt weaker this time, and they both knew it.
“Please, stop,” she pleaded. Her breath came in gasps. Her fingers curled around the useless furniture.
Jacin pushed again, further inside with every try. Elor used up more energy e
very time she shoved him out. Tears streaked her face. Jacin ignored them, convinced he could help her, fix her.
With one last thrust, Jacin plowed inside. He went into her memory core. Nothing. He couldn’t find anything wrong. All her circuits seemed normal. Her thought processes appeared sound. But how? There had to be something he could change.
Suddenly, everything went dark. Jacin felt no force as he slid out from her mind.
Back in himself, he looked at his wife. Slumped over the back of the chair, hands limp at her sides, terror etched on her face. Her mouth lay open, slack. No light shone in her deep, emerald eyes.
“Elor?” Jacin’s throat tightened.
She didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She didn’t breathe.
Jacin screamed.
In seconds, his guards appeared.
“Is everything all right, Commander?”
Jacin whirled toward the intruders. “Get out!” he bellowed. The guards stumbled back. Jacin gazed through his tears at the body of his wife, his love.
He swept around the table and gathered her lifeless body into his arms. “What have I done?” Silence answered him.
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. He couldn’t understand what had happened. The only person who’d ever supported him, ever believed in him, was gone.
But she didn’t support you. She didn’t believe in you. She gave up and tried to leave you, alone. The thoughts stabbed at him. Tears of despair falling down his face became tears of bitterness and resentment. Jacin let go of Elor’s body.
“You tried to leave me. You said you wanted to understand, but you lied.” The words poured out, as years of frustration with his work, his life, his gifts overwhelmed him.
“The only thing I knew would always be there was my family.” Elor’s body fell off the chair and thudded onto the floor. Jacin didn’t even blink. The heat inside him raged.
“I had you. And you wanted to leave. Not only that, but you hid our children...”
Jacin stopped. His children. Elor had said Daith had his gift. Maybe she could help him? Maybe they could help worlds together, as a family?
Jacin left the house, absentmindedly wiping the blood that trickled from his nose, already focused on the task of finding his daughters. “Dispose of the body inside,” he told the guards. “Make sure nothing is left of it or the house.”
Trey awoke, shaking. Blood had dripped from his nose onto his desk, trailing across the datapads on which he’d been reading about Dr. Ludd.
Trey felt sick. He had not chosen that version of Jacin Jaxx to follow. Jacin had been so out of control, and then in an instant, flipped his emotions to make himself correct. He’d killed his wife and left her dead without a second thought.
It wasn’t right.
Elor had been innocent. One of so many.
Trey knew Jacin had failed because his powers consumed him. But with Daith, if controlled by someone else, her abilities could be harnessed and channeled. The innocents could be saved and the wrongdoers punished.
Trey pushed himself away from his desk, his hand sliding in the blood. He knew now the plan he’d dreamed of since he’d been younger, since what had happened with his mother, had to be put into play.
Dru would never go along with it—Trey knew this. But perhaps he could use his brother in a different way.
Chapter 31
Daith smiled at the sight of Dru, who sat cross-legged on the simulation room floor, his brow furrowed in thought. She loved the way his hair fell over his face, casting shadows across his stormy eyes.
“Good morning,” she said, willing her mind to move away from these thoughts.
“Morning! How did you sleep?” He patted the floor next to him.
“I slept wonderfully,” she replied, sitting. “I feel great.”
“Good because I think I’d like to try something new today.”
“Don’t we try something new every day?”
“True, but this will test the next level of your abilities. How do you feel about an attempt to use active powers instead of passive?”
Daith tucked up her legs and wrapped her arms around them. “Active. That means a forced change in energy, right?”
“Exactly.
“I’m game. What’s the test?”
Dru loaded his program and the room filled with simulated beings—tall, short, different skin textures, different species. Bodies took up so much space Daith couldn’t see the walls or exit. Dru handed her a datapad with a grid, labeled in rows and columns from one to six, which represented the room.
“I’m going to mix in with these simulations,” Dru said. “I will think of the grid square I’m in and once you’ve read the location from my thoughts, touch the appropriate spot on your pad. If the spot turns blue, it’s me. A red spot means try again.”
Dru stood and melted into the crowd. The simulation started and the beings moved all around her, scraping or stomping their limbs on the floor, chatting in incoherent languages. Daith closed her eyes. She concentrated on the pad, trying to determine his location. She waited for Dru’s thought to come, but didn’t sense anything. Her ears filled with the incessant noise from the simulations moving, talking, laughing. Daith pursed her lips. She reminded herself active powers required a forced change in energy. If he didn’t send her the coordinates, she would have to find them.
Daith thought of Dru. She pictured him in her mind; thought of his gray eyes, his calm voice. A tremble in her stomach ignited as she thought of the surge of energy between them when they touched. She imagined him, could feel him move around the room. She searched for his mind. Warmth grew inside her—unrelated to her quivering insides—and she directed the energy toward him. The sounds around her diminished, muffled, and she could hear his voice inside his head.
Five-five.
Daith’s eyelids flipped open and she pressed the designated spot on the datapad. The spot turned blue, the simulated images faded, and Dru stood by himself.
“Not bad,” he said, after she explained how picturing him had helped her connect with him. “Now you have to find where I am,” he explained, “but I’m going to feed you false coordinates.”
“How am I supposed to find you then?” She stretched her legs out in front of her and bounced them, waking them up.
Dru paused until he found the right words. “Once you’ve made your connection, try to push against what I’m telling you. You should be able to feel a difference compared to the truth.”
The simulation restarted. Daith connected with his mind in a few moments.
Five-five.
But the thought felt different. She could press against the number and it felt flimsy, as if made out of thin gauze, not solid like before. Daith mentally pushed at the gossamer shell and it stretched, thinning. Leaning harder on the thought, Daith’s mind moved past the barrier and found a second set of coordinates which seemed clearer.
Four-six.
She opened her eyes and pressed the button. The spot on the screen turned blue.
“Wow,” he said. “I thought that would take longer. Okay, let’s see if you can handle the next level. You have to find me, but I won’t know where I am. You will have to reach into my senses. See what I see, feel what I feel. In this way, you can tell where I am from my surroundings.”
Daith closed her eyes, waited a moment so he could find his spot, and concentrated on Dru, thinking about how he’d see himself in the room.
Suddenly, she could see through his eyes, but the view appeared different. The colors were brighter and the edges of the room blurred. Spots of light danced in front of her and the distortions made focus difficult. Daith concentrated harder and after a while she adjusted enough to interpret what Dru saw. She studied his surroundings, noticing the simulation room door, and felt confident she could pinpoint his position.
Daith began to disconnect her mind from his, when she felt his gaze move and stop, resting on her. A surge of emotion flooded through him, knocking Daith out of hi
s mind.
She’d felt heat, desire, guilt, and concern. They felt like electricity—bolts striking her core.
Shaken, and embarrassed at uncovering his personal feelings, Daith quickly pressed the button and stood. The simulated crowd disappeared. Dru came over quickly.
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?
“What? Yes. Everything is fine. My leg fell asleep,” she lied.
“Okay. Well, tell me what happened.”
“Nothing happened,” she said quickly.
“Well then, how did you find me?”
“Oh!” The heat drained from her blushing cheeks while she told Dru what she had sensed in his mind, excluding his personal feelings.
“You’ve done very well,” he said.
Daith smiled a thanks and then stopped. Something about what he’d said sounded familiar. The words stuck in her head, but she couldn’t place them. She tried to dismiss the phrase, but it persisted, repeating itself over and over again. She couldn’t even concentrate on Dru’s words.
And then she understood. A line from the final clue during the “Hunt for Dru” game—the clue that had left her feeling unsettled. ‘You’ve done very well, but you’re getting distracted.’
Distracted from what?
Daith gazed around the empty room. All the tests they’d worked on—sending her thoughts, testing her senses, making her fix broken objects—had nothing to do with her memory. She hadn’t remembered a thing about herself since she’d been here.
“Dru, I need to ask you something.”
“Of course.”
“Why are you helping me develop my abilities?”
“To exercise your mind and memory so you can remember your past.”
She scrunched her brow. “I don’t believe you.”
Dru’s face tightened. “What do you mean?”
“We haven’t worked on a single memory program. You haven’t even asked if I’ve remembered anything. All these sessions have been tests, a way to see how far you can push me, or wanting to know how I respond in critical situations. I want to know what for.”
Eomix Galaxy Books: Illusion Page 19