by K. T. Hanna
“But I do not. I never expected this as a level of retaliation. In my head, they would slowly lose the hold they had as they lost the control over their laboratory subjects, and the rest of the population would start to truly realize the broadcast they saw was real.” He shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are more sunken than usual, and his movements somewhat stilted.
“Do not mind me. These are just the silly ramblings of a tired old man, Dom. Do you know...” He pauses and closes his eyes for just a moment. “Do you know what the Exiled were when I came here?”
“They were...the Exiled?” Dom asks, not quite understanding.
“Yes,” Mathur chuckles. “They were definitely that, but they were also a broken group of people. The war left them astounded, immobile, lacking in hope. The GNW had not only turned an army of machines against them, an army that was supposed to protect people, but they had also had troops infuse Shine into their waterways and food sources. For three weeks, none of the Exiled’s psionics had abilities that were remotely useable. Many of them were picked off by the Damascus, hence the weakened line of abilities we see among them now.”
He pushes himself back on the couch and looks up at Dom. “We have had many people escape the cities for a better life among the Exiled, even before I started the project to build these Mobiles. Do you know how little we actually need money? These did not cost us anything more than willing people who wanted a better way of life and were willing to put in the hard labor necessary. The resources, the planning, the technology—all of this was will power.” He gestures vaguely around them.
“So much of what you’ve done is a fantastic achievement. That’s why you can’t let them see you down, Mathur, do you understand? You have to be strong for all these people who depend on you.” Tact has never been Dom’s strong point, and he hopes that, for once, his knowledge of people doesn’t fail his intentions.
“Such kind words. You know, I always hoped but never thought you would exhibit the range of emotions you can. Anger, maybe, but not the rest.” He sighs and chuckles a little. “But I digress again. These people deserve more than an ending at the hands of the Damascus, and I need your help with the other dominos to make that a possibility. They are all I can think of that will not fall easily.”
“If Sai’s ability to tap into...whatever she tapped into can be replicated, then don’t you think everyone’s can? I know it’s not an answer, but it can perhaps become one of the solutions.” The desperation inside him is clawing to get out through his eyes or let the darkness take control of him. Dom fights it, some of his turmoil leaking into the words.
Mathur shakes his head. “We are not going to know anything until they wake up. Go help Gregory, and I will fetch you as soon as any of them are awake.”
Dom resists the urge to growl at his maker and leaves the room.
The following morning brings almost permanent frustration.
“I don’t work like that, Mathur,” Dom says for what seems like the twentieth time in as many minutes. The old man ignores him and continues to tinker just beneath the hairline of the prone domino in front of him.
“I made you. I do think that I know what it is I do.” Mathur’s own repetition has become clipped, his impatience shining through.
“Well, I am me, so you know...” Dom leaves it hanging and is surprised by a slight chuckle from Mathur.
“Sai has definitely influenced you. In a good way.” But he still goes back to doing exactly the opposite of Dom’s suggestion. Dom’s thoughts are cut short when Iria interrupts them, out of breath as she hangs onto the doorframe.
“They’re awake,” she says as she gulps down air. “Just Mason and Walstein, not Sai,” she adds when Dom smiles. He resists the urge to scowl and heads to the hospital wing with Mathur.
“You look like crap,” he says to Mason and nods at Walstein, not entirely sure of the young man’s experiences or loyalties.
Mason tries to smile, only to cringe as his jaw is still healing. His skin appears loose, like he no longer fits into it, and the shadows under his eyes are deeper. He appears to be worse than when they picked him up.
“Stephen said you have questions.” The words come out partially slurred, obscured by the drugs pumping into his system through the small dispenser attached to his arm.
“How are you not dead?”
“Sai.” Mason shrugs, even though it’s obvious it causes him pain. “She screamed and this white, hot light exploded around her, catapulted into the lieutenant who was about to kill Wally over there. I don’t remember anything after that.”
“You are serious?” Mathur steps out from behind Dom. “You are really serious?”
Mason nods.
“Damn it. Where is Bastian when we need him?” Mathur flops into one of the chairs near the bed.
“I don’t follow.” Dom crosses his arms and regards the older man with curiosity. “How on earth could Bastian make this better?”
Mathur scowls. “Not make it better, but train Sai, get her to understand what it is she did and perhaps how others can accomplish the same sort of thing. There is no telling how far this could go if given the chance. We could have a whole new weapon on our hands.”
“And why Bastian? I mean, he’s good at what he does, but...” Dom shrugs.
“You’ve spent all this time with my brother and you haven’t realized it yet?” Mason laughs and then coughs, clutching his side. He sighs in a breath, and Dom almost asks him to do it again, sure he heard something rattle.
“He’s extremely intelligent and knows...” The light dawns on Dom. “You mean he wasn’t just in charge of the school because of his strength and striking good looks?”
“Exactly.” Mathur sighs. “This bit of information gives us some level of hope. Not much, mind you, but some at least. It’s a good thing overall, but we can’t afford to have her fall into a coma or faint every time she overexerts herself. It’s not just inconvenient—it could be downright dangerous. At this rate, she’ll sleep until tonight.”
Dom holds up a hand. “Technically she was already awake.”
Mason sits up straight, and a cry of pain escapes his lips, his skin pales, and he leans back again, panting. “When? How did I miss that?”
“You were unconscious. She woke after the pulse, healed you and Walstein up enough to drag you into the transport, and set a very loose course back to the Mobile. Somehow, she managed it all before the sun rose and burned you to a crisp.” Dom watches Mason closely, storing the man’s movements away to address with Bastian when he next sees him.
“You didn’t find us at the scene, then.” Mason’s eyes get a distant and contemplative sheen over them. “Interesting...”
“She’s still recovering from her surgery, too, you know. It’s not like that was just a drop in the pond.” Every time anyone seems to dismiss the notion that adjusting to the grafts of her legs is trivial, Dom feels it grate against his patience, but he’s pretty sure Mason is mulling over other things right now. “I’m guessing you want me to play messenger boy yet again? Go and fetch Bastian’s wisdom and then rely on me to impart it correctly, yes?”
“Well...” Mason coughs again. “If you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so glamorous.”
Dom ignores the jibe. “I’ll go as soon as she wakes up. I want to talk to her myself first and see if I can get her to tell me what she did and how it felt. It’ll help Bastian a lot to know exactly how this might have been accomplished.”
He spends a moment chasing away the darkness in his head as he leaves the room. They’re all working on the assumption that Sai has a clue what she did and that they’re not totally screwed.
“You’re sure?” Bastian doesn’t quite believe what Dom’s telling him, even though he knows his friend has no reason to lie.
Dom sighs and glares at him, eyes flickering in color briefly. “I have testimony from both Mason and this Walstein person. They both remember Sai being surrounded by a white light that took out the Dam
ascus. Sai even remembers a little about how she got it to trigger in the first place. Would you like me to go over that as well?”
Bastian nods, grinning despite himself. The more he hears about the incident, the giddier he gets. Like a school boy at his birthday. It’s a present he’d never even thought to investigate before.
Dom squints at him but doesn’t comment. “Sai says she realized if she didn’t do anything, they’d all die. She says she willed as hard as she did during her test, reached desperately for more power, and let go.” Dom stops for a moment and examines his hands before continuing. “She just dug deep and did it. Her exact words. She concentrated on the lieutenant and opened the floodgates. Sai says she screamed, saw it hit, but fell into nothingness and didn’t wake up until sometime before dawn.”
Bastian stares at him for a good full minute before shaking his head. “I’m not sure why I never thought of it. I mean, logically, wouldn’t anyone wanting to protect himself and or others think of tapping into the base of the power at its most raw and natural? But then...” He looks at the floor and feels the flush rise in his cheeks. “I guess I’ve never been in a situation that truly warranted it. A situation that meant it was either me or them and my survival was paramount.” He laughs and claps his hands. “That’s one mighty fine girl we’ve got there.”
Dom raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this...uncontrolled in emotion, Bastian. It’s unsettling.”
“Really? Probably get me killed if I’m not careful.” The thought sobers him up, but he feels a glimmer of hope, despite the dragging tired in his bones. “I’m going to have to experiment and test a few things to see if I can figure out a safer way for her to perform this. As long as I can continue to avoid Zach, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Avoid Zach?” There’s a strange shift in Dom’s countenance, like a shadowed glow around his form.
Bastian clamps down on the urge to step back and smiles, shutting down his own thoughts. “He’s being himself. His nosy, pesky, intrusive self. It’s all good. I’ve danced around him for years, just need to be a little more careful now.” He changes the subject before Dom can say anything else. “How is Aishke coming with the Harming exercises I gave her for control?”
The shimmer around Dom ebbs until nothing is out of place, and his eyes settle back on silver. “Not too bad. She’s a little impatient at times and that can be an impediment, but overall she’s improving.”
Bastian nods. “I’d like for her to be able to master this newfound ability, too, but if she hasn’t got a hang of those exercises I gave her for Harming, then there’s no way in hell she’s going to be able to execute Sai’s ability without killing herself and or others. And that’s not something we should risk yet.” He glances at his watch. “I have two meetings today.”
Dom frowns at him. “You’ve been taking too much Shine again. You know you’ve got to modify your usage or else you’re going to be useless to yourself and us, if needed.”
“I know, I know.” Bastian waves away the complaint. “This is my first set of meetings since you left, actually. I pleaded ill for a few of them and seriously did need to sleep. I’ll take a minimal dose. I’m actually starting not to care much whether or not they realize I have more gift in my pinky than they have in their entire bodies.”
Dom smiles and his tone is gentle. “Have you never just thought about going out there and slaughtering every single one of them? It’s an option after all. Your abilities would even make it easy.”
Bastian raises an eyebrow. “You know it’s not that easy. Deign is stronger than she looks. Her shields are something not even I know how to cut through, or I’d have already done it. And with Zach dancing around the edges, hedging and pushing closer to her seat of power...” Bastian shrugs. “I’d sooner take him out than Deign.”
“Really? Isn’t he manageable?”
Bastian shakes his head. “Zach is slimy—always has been, always out for himself—and I’ll be damned if he’ll use the GNW’s weight to squeeze out every inch of advantage. Deign, in her misguided way, cares about the people, even if it’s misplaced. Her own formidable abilities to project her will onto someone, her own strength of shielding—for now they keep her safe. And we need her to lead because I don’t have the backing of the other families to take over, and Deign is the evil we know.”
He pauses, brain firing through rapid thoughts, testing out different avenues to rid the United Conglomerate of GNW’s controlled reign, but comes up with nothing he can do by himself. Not that it’s a surprise, he’s known it all along, but sometimes Dom gives him hope. He glances back up to see Dom winking slightly in and out of camouflage, watching him. “Sorry. I digress. Maybe...” He purses his lips, thinking of Sai’s discovery, and winks at his friend. “Maybe if she can find a way to stabilize this power draw, I’ll go and put them all out of their misery.”
“You’re an odd fellow, my friend,” Dom says quietly, but there’s a quiet approval in the way he lays his hand on Bastian’s shoulder.
Bastian clasps the cool fingers briefly before Dom withdraws. “Speaking of odd, how have you been feeling lately?”
Dom takes a step back, glancing furtively around the room before rolling his shoulders and replying. “I’m...figuring out a way to deal with things in the manner I was probably intended to from the start. No GNW holds on my system, no false channels causing me an imbalance.”
“Is that all it was?” Bastian steps closer, focusing on Dom’s eyes, trying to see if any telltale red shines through. But they’re silver, if a little cloudy.
Dom shakes his head. “No. It appears the channel held the parasite in the adrium at bay. Dealing with its onslaught in my raw, awakened state was a lot to handle. It still creeps up and pushes, tests me. But as long as I’m cautious and don’t let it overwhelm me, I can use the power it has.”
“Carefully?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Dom answers. “Carefully.”
The way Dom says the word sends a shiver up Bastian’s spine as he glances at his watch to check the time. “Will you stay here until I get back, so I can leave the doors closed and my wards intact? I’ll try to think of a course of action for our girl while I’m in the meetings.”
“I’ll be here, hacking into databases they should never try to hide from the likes of me.” Dom grins again; somehow the expression has become slightly less alien.
Bastian can’t help but laugh. “I knew you’d find something to do,” he says as he releases the shields and exits his room, trying not to dwell on the dangerous undertones to how careful Dom actually needs to be.
The hall in front of the meeting room is guarded by a squad of Damascus. Bastian schools his face so as not to show his discomfort. A full squad—lieutenant, Hound, and four henchmen. The lieutenant holds up a hand and gazes at the manifest in his other.
“State name and purpose.”
“Nehvin, Bastian. Director of Psionic Facilities and Programming. Attending weekly board meeting.” Bastian keeps his tone level and polite. Giving offense to a squad leader is not conducive to a long life. While it would be simple for Dom to take out any one of these guys on his own, trying to take on an entire squad at once is something not even Dom would live through. Bastian understands his friend’s hesitance and is frustrated with his own inability to use his otherwise formidable powers to neutralize them. There’s a reason they were created to subdue the psionic uprising.
After about a minute of tapping around on the reader in front of him, the lieutenant steps aside and motions with his hand, but the glowing gaze bores into Bastian as he passes. “You may proceed, Director. We have your imprint.”
Another concerted effort not to cringe as he walks past them. Having his imprint on their files is not something he would have done, given the option. But he can’t miss this meeting and he can’t appear hostile in any way. If he’s to have any hope of stopping the carnage that’s about to begin, Bastian knows he has to play nice just
a little longer.
As the door to the room closes behind him, Bastian notices his reaction is probably one of the milder ones. The tension in the room is palpable and thick. He sits down at his usual seat and waits, observing.
Harlow fidgets, like she always does when she’s nervous or uncomfortable. There are bags under her eyes and her usually thick brown hair is limp and untidy. Harlow’s support, and thereby her family’s name, is the only one Bastian is quite certain would stick by him the event of an overthrow. If Deign would stop keeping her so busy, he’d test those waters further.
Owen is new to the board. He sits with his hands in his lap, fidgeting, probably thinking about how the last two people in his position were found mysteriously murdered. His gaze never rests in one spot for long, and he avoids eye contact with all of them. Since Selwyn was the last of that family’s direct line, the position fell to a cousin brought in from a sectioned research lab in another city hub. GNW research is such a delicate subject, Bastian is still unsure of his loyalties, as most researchers live isolated from the rest of the population and keep to themselves.
Zach doesn’t even look as if he feels the Damascus are any type of inconvenience, his white suit is as cool as his arrogant expression. Married into the position his partner didn’t want, he is a distant cousin to Deign and technically has a line to her rule that is somewhat hazy and convoluted. Bastian can’t recall the last time Zach mentioned his wife. Alara or something? He frowns as he tries to recall if they have children.
Markus is there, too, his arms crossed and the most annoyed expression Bastian has ever seen on the chief of police’s face. With the Damascus out there, the authority of his station and all of his crew come secondary. In a pinch, and especially after this annoyance, Markus might even stand with him, but the man has always been fond of Deign—blindingly so, since he adopted her like a kindly uncle after her parents died. The man is too soft to sit in with this nest of vipers. Bastian wants nothing more than for him to be able to retire and bounce grandkids on his knee.