by T. M. Catron
Lincoln looked at Nelson, whose wide-eyed face contained a look of sheer terror. Judging by the others’ comments, he hadn’t told them about their meeting a couple of nights ago. Lincoln nodded at Nelson. As far as Lincoln was concerned, no one needed to know Nelson had abandoned him. He hadn’t had much of a choice.
They took turns filling each other in.
“. . . Baker’s actions were strange,” said Alvarez. “And what about Doyle? The one who killed her. What was that about?”
“Dunno,” answered Lincoln. “But I was really surprised when he told me to look for Mina here. Did she really shoot a woman?”
“Yes,” Carter said. “And she couldn’t explain why.”
“I’m just surprised she had a gun at all. Where’d she get it?”
Carter turned to Alvarez. “Didn’t you say you suspected Mina had a friend helping her?”
“I know she did. She told me. Could it be Doyle?”
“He seemed to know her,” said Lincoln. “But that raises more questions. What’s her connection to him? Why wouldn’t she tell you?”
“Maybe she can’t for some reason,” Nelson said, glancing at Lincoln. “Maybe someone’s threatened her.”
“Who? Halston? He mentioned a human woman a couple of times—whatever that means. But why would he threaten Mina? Isn’t she just a victim like everybody else?”
Alvarez shrugged. “She said she’d check in. You can ask her then.”
“What if she runs into Halston out there?”
Carter chuckled. “She seems to be able to take care of herself. You’ll see.”
***
They settled in for the night away from the creek. Mina sat beside Doyle who had lit a fire despite the warm evening.
“Doyle.”
“Yes?”
“Who did you lose? You mentioned someone earlier.”
“A friend.”
“Will you tell me?”
He stared at the fire. Mina looked at it too, wondering what he saw in the flames.
“The important thing to understand,” he began, “is that hybrids were raised as orphans. Manufactured in test tubes and grown in artificial wombs. We didn't have parents to raise us or tell us how to care for others. The adarria took care of the offspring, if you could call it care. Condar needed it this way. They needed an army of psychopaths—killers that would follow orders. Who did not and could not form strong emotional bonds with humans or other hybrids. And mostly they succeeded. Our early isolation from love prevented those emotions from developing.
“But because of our close proximity to other hybrids, we did form bonds with each other. Many of us feel a strong camaraderie with other offspring and even the adarria. Despite the fact we were taught to kill and deceive at an early age, we generally stuck together. And the Condarri allowed it because they discovered that our close ties meant the hybrids were better able to work together, seamlessly, as a team.
“One hybrid in particular, named Morse. He was in my pod, which meant we did everything together—ate, trained, studied, fought. He was the closest thing I had to a friend.
“When I arrived on Earth at fifteen, I had a perfect enough idea and knowledge of pop culture to blend in with humans my age. The only difference was my knowledge greatly surpassed any human teenager’s. I already understood advanced physics and mathematics and could speak thirty languages. I had no desire to become friends with humans my age. None of them were my peers. I pretended, of course, but my real bonds were with the other hybrids, and these alliances traveled with us to Earth.
“Morse had been sent somewhere else, I didn’t know where, but as I became better known and more powerful, I traveled a great deal. Ran across him a few times. He would never be as strong as I, but he was finding ways to be useful to Condar.
“I met Calla too. I trained her to fight, using better techniques than the adarria had shown us. She was more ambitious than Morse. She pushed herself and everyone around her, to their limit and beyond. I admired her for that.”
Doyle paused a moment. Mina sat cross-legged facing him while he watched the fire.
“Then one day, about a year before the invasion,” he continued. “I heard Morse had disappeared. He hadn’t died, or the adarria would have known it, but he wasn’t registering in the right place. He was making unauthorized trips to India.
“Morse was supposed to be in Europe. He had no reason to be in India. At this point, the hybrids all sort of looked out for one another. Although I was about to be named Dar Ceylin, I had no real authority to send anyone to look for Morse. But I couldn’t go myself. So I asked Calla.”
Doyle paused again. Mina held her breath. He waited so long she thought he wouldn’t continue. The fire cracked and popped, burning lower. Fireflies lit up the surrounding woods, flashing together for a few seconds, and then disappearing as one. When Mina was very small, her mother told her they were fairies. Now the fireflies reminded her of tiny candles. Tiny candles lit randomly, then snuffed out together.
Finally, Doyle spoke again: “Morse had a human wife. He’d met a woman from India while she was vacationing in Europe. And before she left, he secretly married her and made arrangements to join her in India.”
Mina let out her breath. “And why was that a problem?”
He looked at Mina. “The first mandate is for a hybrid to maintain his secret. If a human discovered the hybrids’ existence before the invasion, the entire operation would have been jeopardized. Condar viewed it as the ultimate betrayal.”
“Did you know Morse was married before you sent Calla?”
Doyle shook his head. “But as soon as Calla found out, she vowed to avenge Condar and used it to further her own ambitions. Morse tried to hide his wife, but Calla found her and murdered her. When Morse discovered what Calla had done, he fled to Africa. There Calla hunted him down and turned him over to the Condarri. Condar rang with his screams. They made a very harsh example of him before they finally let him die.”
“And what did you do?”
Doyle looked back at the fire. “Nothing. I did nothing.”
“He was your friend!”
“And he violated orders!” Doyle spoke with a dark passion, his eyes cruel and hard.
“So have you,” she said. “Do you think you deserve the same fate?”
His black eyes danced in the firelight. “No, I deserve far worse. Because when I'm done, all of Condar will see me stand in open defiance of them.” He turned and placed his hands on either side of Mina’s neck, holding her gaze. “Are you afraid of me, Mina?” he asked her again.
“No.”
He kissed her then. And Mina kissed him back. Memories of his kiss aboard the Nomad flooded her mind, and she leaned into him again, this time shivering with excitement instead of terror. He pulled her toward him, leaning back against the tree, forcing her to leave her seat on the ground. She was practically sitting in his lap when he paused kissing her and said, “I’m going back to the bunker in the morning. Come with me. Then we’ll get Lincoln.”
Mina cleared her throat, working to keep her pride intact after this sudden interruption. “You know where he is?”
“I know where he will be—he’s on his way to the hotel.”
She sat up straight, sliding away from Doyle. “And you didn’t think to mention it earlier?”
“I’m mentioning it now.”
“Where is he? Is he okay? Does he have food?”
“Slow down. He’s fine.”
“How did he know about the lodge?”
“I told him how to get there.”
“Why didn’t you just bring him with you?”
“If I’d offered to take him to the lodge, he would have run the opposite direction. I watched him head that way before I went on ahead to find you. You were supposed to be there.”
Mina sat back on her heels, facing Doyle. “We should go find him now. What if he runs into Calla or another hybrid?”
“Calla’s orders are to stay
on the Nomad.”
“Does she obey orders?”
“Better than you do. Sit down. We could wander the woods all night looking for him. He may be there already.” Doyle took her hand to pull her toward him.
But Mina didn’t budge. “If Calla’s on the Nomad, why were you so worried about me?”
“You shot her. You’re lucky she was too wounded to retaliate. Next time you won’t be so fortunate.”
Mina stood, and Doyle released her. “Then if you want me to go to the silo with you, we need to leave now,” she said. “Tomorrow I’m going back to the hotel.”
Doyle rose and leaned in to Mina. “Just a minute,” he said. “What are you going to do at the hotel?”
“Get people out—Lincoln, his friends, my friends. They’re in too much danger.”
He put his arm around her waist, pressing closer. “Not your best plan,” he countered. Forgetting about his adarre, Mina placed a hand on his chest to push him away. His thoughts flooded her mind in a surge of images. The Doyle in front of her was waiting on her, but he was thinking of so much more. Of crushing her to him and kissing her deeply. Of sliding his hands down her body and . . .
Mina removed her hand. “That’s cheating,” she said breathlessly.
He smirked. “I’m not sorry about it.”
“Are you going to let me go?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he whispered back. But he didn’t. Then he said, “I’ve always wondered why Morse risked his life. He must have known he would die.”
Mina’s heart beat a loud tempo against her chest. “He must have loved her.”
“Hybrids aren’t supposed to love.”
She cleared her throat. “Do you think that, deep down, all hybrids are capable of it?”
“No. I think Morse was atypical.”
“And what about you? How do you explain your recent actions, Doyle?”
He looked at their position, his arm around her waist, his other hand toying with her hair.
And he let go.
“We’ll have to hurry,” he said, “if you want to get back to the hotel tomorrow.”
Mina straightened her clothing and reached up to smooth her hair. “Lead the way, O Fearless One.”
***
Calla waited in the dark. The bunker entrance loomed behind her. Halston had said he would meet her here. Her frustration grew. The traitor had kept her waiting. She'd already been inside to study the adarria. But her examination had left her with no answers to her questions. She could not read the symbols there. Could not understand them.
She would find out where the rogues had gathered and then kill him slowly. Halston was the root of all her troubles. He had evaded justice long enough. Maybe his reason for this meeting was to turn himself in. Maybe he thought she would be lenient. But Calla had no intention of being merciful.
“Couldn’t figure out the adarria on your own, Calla?” Halston’s voice pierced the darkness.
Calla twisted to see him standing on her left within arm’s reach. Her hand touched her knife, but she didn't rise. How had he come so close to her undetected? She pushed down her discomfort at his sudden appearance.
“I’ve made a point recently of learning to hide myself,” he said in answer to her unasked question. “It’s turned out to be very useful. Like the new look, by the way. But that’s a nasty scar on your ear.”
“You are late.”
Halston shrugged. Calla swept her eyes over his body. He carried no weapons. He walked around Calla, his eyes on the twitching hand near her knife. “I’m not here to surrender.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I have information I think you’ll want.”
“Then tell me. Don’t waste my time with tricks and baiting.”
Halston nodded. “Of course. But you can’t blame me for being careful. My information is concerning Doyle. Did you know he turned rogue?”
Calla scoffed. “You lie.” She couldn't admit anything about their plan. Halston could be fishing for information. Yet her interest piqued.
Halston crouched to be at eye level with Calla, pretending to dust off his boot. “I know Doyle told you he was playing the part of rogue to lure me out of hiding. And I know he told you it worked.”
Calla remained silent.
“Doyle turned rogue months ago,” he continued. “Before the Condarri was murdered, I think.”
“Do you have evidence?”
“Funny thing about evidence. Often you have to already know the answer to the puzzle before the pieces fit together.”
“Shut up and show me.”
“Yes.” Halston stood. “I’ll show you. If you believe Doyle is traitor, the pieces will make sense. If you still believe he is loyal, you'll find excuses for what you see.”
Calla stood now. “I am not a human, to be so easily swayed by my emotions!”
He locked eyes with her. “You should have been Dar Ceylin,” he said, and her mind flooded with his thoughts.
Halston hid inside the dark bunker, distraught at discovering his mission had failed. The humans could farm the land—his poison didn't work. Fear engulfed him. The Condarri would kill him. And he didn’t want to die. He wouldn’t die. Halston spoke with the adarria under the mountain. They told him how to hide himself. Flashes of light burned across his mind. He grew stronger. The violence of his memory reached all the way into Calla’s mind.
Then the memory shifted. Burning with his knowledge, Halston met with Williams, Thompson, and others. Williams hesitated, but Thompson lapped up the intelligence like a starving puppy. Halston didn’t completely trust him though. Thompson asked too many questions, and eventually they parted ways.
Afraid of Thompson, Halston decided he needed numbers. Recruits. Humans would work because they were expendable. Anything to stand between Halston and Condar.
A human camp. A vote. Halston recognized Doyle from afar. How could he not? Doyle stood beneath the trees with a woman. A human woman. He must have been using her for cover. A poor cover, indeed.
Elation. So Condar was afraid. Afraid of what Halston could do or they would not have sent the commander to investigate. Halston did not communicate with Doyle. But he knew Doyle would come for him soon.
When Doyle left the riot, Halston followed. He'd already become excellent at staying hidden, physically and through the adarre. He watched Doyle shoot Williams to protect the woman. Funny—Williams must have been rogue after all. Then Doyle argued with the woman, and she left. So did Halston. Dar Ceylin would come looking for him now.
Halston went back to the bunker. There he realized its connection to the Factory and possibly Condar. But he made a mistake, allowing Doyle to surprise him in the woods. Doyle was not there to kill him, however. He wanted information about the bunker. And Halston wanted assurance Doyle would not betray him. So Doyle showed Halston something he’d never dreamed—a command of the aether no hybrid had been allowed to possess.
“I stole it,” Doyle said. “You don’t need to know how, not yet. Condar is afraid. Now is the time to act. We need as many recruits as possible. The bunker holds the key to overthrowing those that have oppressed us. If we control the bunker and the aether, Condar will be forced to listen to our demands.”
“Why is the bunker so important?” asked Halston.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.”
The scenes shifted again, more quickly now. Halston spied Doyle near the bunker. The same human woman accompanied him. She kissed his cheek. Why did Doyle still need the human for cover? Another meeting in the forest. A human man held captive. The loyals dead—no more recruits.
“Calla still thinks I’m working with her,” and
When the communic
ation stopped, Calla shook with fury. “You left out a couple of key details,” she said.
Halston smiled. “How do I communicate with the adarria below us?”
“Yes.”
“You have to want to betray Condar, or at least consider it.”
“You lie. The adarria cannot be anything but loyal.”
“You think I’m lying even after all I’ve shown you?”
“I knew most of it already.”
“Then you know I'm being truthful.”
“What is the importance of the bunker? You left that out.”
“I’ll tell you in exchange for your cooperation.”
“You sealed your fate when you abandoned Condar.”
“Tsk, Calla. Will you stand for Condar by yourself? The loyals are dead. Everyone has turned rogue, even your admirable Dar Ceylin. I suspect you have too, or you would have been killed with the loyals.”
Calla unsheathed her knife. “You know nothing.”
“Except that Doyle is a traitor. Apparently you suspected as much, or you wouldn’t have listened this long. What if I help you catch him? Catch Dar Ceylin in the act of betraying Condar?”
“Why do I need you?”
“Because I have one hundred rogues at my command. One hundred rogues who don’t wish to see Doyle take control. They fear his power with the aether. But you, Calla, could lead them.”
“So when you said I should have been Dar Ceylin . . .”
“I meant take the title for yourself. Now.”
“Condar bestows the title. It isn’t taken.”
“You are the arm of justice for Condar. The Dar Ceylin they appointed has betrayed them. Who else can right that wrong?”
“Why are you offering me this?”
“You can lead, Calla.”
“I will not lead rogues against Condar.”
“Not against Condar. Against a traitor to Condar.” Halston spat. “Do you really think Condar will forgive you for allowing Doyle to steal the aether under your very nose?”