Persist (Discipline Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  The only one that was actually focused on the terrorist attack at the moment was Micha, who was working, as far as she was concerned. They had two protected people with them, and while psychic and trained to fight, she wasn’t a secret service agent. Not that everyone wouldn’t have died if they’d been with the girls instead of the Cymeds. Even if Ben hadn’t been there, they would have all died, it was clear. She’d seen it happen while she fought, almost every time.

  Even as she’d struggled to take down the one mech armored man. That had been hard for her. Worse than for Clark, she was willing to bet. In fighting skill she was at least as good, if not better. The man was just huge though, and stronger than the rest of them by a good amount. Looking around the place, which was mainly a small restaurant, with bright colored seats and tables off to one side, with windows all over the place, and a store to the right, her mind turned back to Ben.

  What he’d done had been hard to watch and even harder to bear for the few moments that she let her mind link to him after the mop up. The men on the ground had screamed and moaned in torment, but it was her colleague holding them there, suffering the same thing as they all laid there in that stinking horse barn. The woman that had tortured them all was familiar, too.

  From work. Only the woman that Micha knew was in admin, and was a total sweetheart. Far too kind for field operations. A few pounds heavier as well, which was fine, given that her life was secret filing and making sure everyone got the right plane tickets, and hotel accommodations on time, not fighting.

  Jan.

  The men on the ground had been familiar, as well. Not from her life, but they were all the same ones liberated from the suits. There had been a lot more of them in that barn, but the ones that Ben had captured had been there. That part excited her in a way that was pretty self-satisfied internally.

  For the first time they’d managed to catch someone from another world. Alive. They’d collected bodies, but the others had all managed to fight to the death rather than be taken prisoner.

  Breaking contact with her, mentally, he looked around, trying to tell what the other people there were thinking. Most were just hungry or needed a restroom, the road travel having taken its toll on them. Ben could feel that, being hungry like he was himself. The single bagel hadn’t really done much for him. On the great side the little store had a covered tray of doughnuts, which he pointed to, smiling.

  “There we go. You can eat at least Lissa. Let me see what else they have here. It mainly looks like junk.” Which was all so tempting that everyone turned and looked at him for a few seconds, their eyes going wide. At least the ones with him. Except Lenore, who needed the restroom, but didn’t want to go alone. Being smart like she clearly was.

  Lissa moved toward her, also getting the idea, but was watching Ben the whole time.

  “How hard is it for you to sit with us while we all eat?” Her voice was soft, but it was kind of clear she understood more now, suddenly, and it resonated between them. It didn’t hurt even. There was pressure, from the others, but that, the pain of being around another of their own kind didn’t do much this time. That had been growing, he thought. As they spent more time together, they were able to stand each other more. Even when he wasn’t there.

  Leading to naughty sex-capades, no doubt.

  “Hard. You have no idea how many times I’ve nearly stolen your desserts. You know, pointed the other direction and made a mad grab for them?” He pictured doing that with a piece of chocolate cake, the thing half smeared over his face as he tried to protest that he didn’t know what had happened to it, his cheeks bulging. It was funny enough that three of them at least chuckled. Clark didn’t seem to really get it, and Lenore just didn’t pick it up as more than a vague sense of him trying to be funny.

  That, or they were being really polite about his battle against binge eating. While the girls went off to the restroom together, to use the facilities and talk about him and Clark, Ben carefully looked at everything there, and sighed.

  “This is pretty hard. I guess fried foods will have to work? I know that the calories won’t hurt me, but it feels like cheating.”

  Next to him, still holding his right arm, the larger man nodded.

  “I get that. Still, not having enough energy isn’t going to help anyone right now. I think we can justify this one, as long as you don’t make a habit of it.” There was no smile, or hint of teasing, even though the man felt like that inside. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the allure of food, just that it had never been his habit to truly stuff himself.

  It made a difference. For Ben it hadn’t even been odd.

  Almost his entire life, he’d eaten what he wanted, when he was interested in it. Not hungry, just when it felt like time to eat. Stuffing himself was nearly a daily experience for him, or had been. For a long time that had happened at least once, or twice, a day. To the point of discomfort and sometimes pain. Now it felt almost impossible even though he was burning enough to make that a good habit, thanks to everything he’d done in the last months. Like a thing that he could barely imagine being real for him.

  Even if being fat again was off the table, he couldn’t afford to get lazy in any part of this life now. That was the crack in the armor that might let him fall apart in every way. It wasn’t a fear for him, since he knew that in the end he would fail. Everyone did. They broke under the stress of the world, or got old and fell apart. If it took him ten times longer than everyone else, it would still take place.

  Glenda had figured that it wouldn’t even matter if Ben failed, in the next months or years. Figuring that the Cymeds hidden plans would have them all dead inside two years anyway. Though, unless their plan involved an AI with predictive algorithms taking over the world, or doing whatever it had in mind, then things had likely changed for them all.

  On the good side, they could use that. Ben was the only one that had a particular need to take out the AI in question. They needed a name for it, he decided. Not that anything came to mind, and he wasn’t going to call the thing anything as neat as Oracle. There wasn’t even a helpful written prompt for him, the tally in his head working out the optimal menu for him from the fried things and deli selections that were available. It was more than he would have figured on getting, but it seemed that he was going to need to get nearly seven thousand calories into him before too long if he didn’t want to be at risk of low blood sugar.

  So he selected things, and pretended not to notice what the women were doing, in the bathroom together. Which was talking about the attack earlier. There was a flat screen in the place, up in the corner of the little restaurant area, so Ben moved so he could watch it, while he waited for everyone else to get what they wanted. Half of what he had was to go, so came in a smart box, which was thin, but would keep the food warm or cold, depending on what compartment it was in. Most of it was wrapped stuff, fried in grease or oil. There was coleslaw and potato salad as well, which he’d picked because it was as close to being healthy as anything that he could eat there.

  To drink he had water, since short of mainlining sugar through a syringe to his arm, there wasn’t a worse thing that he could think of than drinking soda. Plus, the machine nozzles were all filthy, and probably had bacteria growing all over them.

  That didn’t stop the others from using them, as he watched the news that was playing on the screen above them. It was in three dimensions, but not a holo-display, since those were pricey. This was more like what regular people had in their homes. A bit nicer than the one that he’d had in his living room before it had been abandoned.

  It didn’t matter. The place had been where Fluffs had died, shot in the head. The stain on the floor wouldn’t come up, and he hadn’t been able to replace the carpet, so it wasn’t a place he’d lingered in, after his father was gone.

  Now the thing showed them.

  All of them, which was different than he would have expected. The camera person in the doughnut shop had kept doing her job, even as the mech armor
ed terrorists had come in, and there were truly impressive shots of his friends fighting them. Things nearly seemed to flow, and like the men in their powered suits were just being tossed around easily. That hadn’t been the case, and they’d been taking damage from doing it the whole time.

  The Swarm going down, the portion that he’d done was shown next, even if it was out of order. That had been the first thing done. The sound played, but it was an expert, talking about what they were seeing. One from the government.

  The woman seemed strained, to say the least. She was also heavy and had on so much makeup that she looked ready to go on stage as a clown. Her voice was a bit watery, too. As if she was really uncertain about the whole thing she was saying.

  Which made sense, given a lot of it was just plain wrong.

  “These, uh, are members of our Cymed group. Technically part of a private project, but on loan to us from Monsanto. The um… Man that ran out, the…” The shot moved to show Ben, as he scampered over the parked cars, actually doing a flip over one, and landing on his feet, perfectly. A thing that had felt very different while he’d done it, and in his mind hadn’t been cool at all. “Yes, that one. What we’re seeing here is him using psi capabilities. He was genetically modified for that. Ben… Esponstein, I believe? We might have to check that name.”

  The whole thing was walked through and actually caught most of the highlights. Even switching to Clark when he turned, inside the shop still, and started to focus. There was no dramatics to it, just the vehicles that were trying to ram cars and kill people stopping, one after the other.

  “The people here are all psionically enhanced. It’s… We’ve had programs for a while, but this is the only one that’s maintained long term high level success. The smaller woman is a government agent. Michelle Navidad. You of course will recognize Casandra Banks? She’s been part of this program for several years now. Nine? The other man is Clark Samson. He used to be a financier. Wall street. Very successful at it.”

  Then the screen showed Mags, and did a highlight montage of her fighting rather gloriously against a foe that should have been able to take out twenty men, or thirty of her. Instead she won, just before the others fell down in pain.

  “Maggie Richards. The President’s older daughter. Also one of this impressive group. His younger girl was there too, having been taking a course of training with the Cymed operation, to aid in the fight against terror. The point here is that we won. A small group of unarmed men and women stopped an unexpected terrorist attack cold. Impressive people, but it shows that we can all do our part, if we’re willing.”

  The commentator took over then, and broke to go to the White House Press Secretary, who Ben mainly ignored. The man wasn’t right, about a lot of things, and knew it. There were solid lies being spun for the public, to leave them feeling good about things instead of scared. It probably kind of worked, though the few other people that had been watching were all looking at them now. The men from across the aisle, sitting closest to them saw him glance over, and gave him a nod.

  What they were thinking was that the burrito he was eating looked good. One of them was. The other just wanted Lissa’s autograph, and possibly a blowjob, having seen the sex tape. Mags would have done too, for the sex parts, but she was obviously hurt. That meant she needed to be taken care of, and could be left to the big guy with her.

  On the great side, even if they were noticed, there weren’t that many people, so they were actually allowed to eat in relative peace. The news above them was annoying, only talking about the latest attack like it was. Ben felt a bit bored with the topic now.

  Especially since the whole thing had been kind of small compared to the other attacks. One that was clearly targeted at them. If not personally, then at least the group as a whole. Lenore got a phone call, which got him to make a face. It was a government person of some kind, who she didn’t know, wanting to check on her whereabouts.

  That got him to take the thing from her, and growl into it a bit.

  “There’s a leak, on your side of things. Not that we can’t be tracked right now. She’s fine, we all are, more or less. Let us get to a secured line before we tell you all about it?” That was just him being rude, grabby and paranoid, but when the younger woman took her device back, she smiled.

  “Those are pretty good points. Uh… Let me see. Nine, nine, three, seven, one, bravo. That should be the right one. I’m alive and safe. In transit to a safe location.” Then she hung up.

  Ben glared, and shook his head a bit, then sighed.

  “That has a camera, right? We could have been doing that video already, like you suggested.”

  She blinked, looked at it and shook her head.

  “No. It’s just for web and secure phone conversations. We’ll have to wait.”

  It clearly had a camera, but Ben got the idea. She enjoyed making her sister feel bad, a bit, but she didn’t want to break her mind. Not even for Ben. Not that she wouldn’t date him, now that Maggie had screwed things up. What she didn’t get was that he was kidding, too.

  Probably due to how often he’d mentioned it.

  “We should probably go soon. Except… The road is still snowed out ahead.” Meaning they were trapped there. He checked, and it really was out, complete with blinking yellow lights and a sign explaining that there was a twenty-mile stretch that had to be plowed due to heavy snow. It was just spitting a bit outside the window, but they were going to be there for a while longer, regardless.

  On the great side, no one had even called them in to a news station or tried to get their pictures. They were going to be on video, since the place had cameras all over, like the whole world did, but Lissa was only going to have to sign three or four autographs.

  That meant he ate until he was actually full. The food was all right. A bit grease filled, thanks to what he’d gotten. Everyone there was tense, including the other people eating. The world had just gotten scary all of a sudden, in the last months.

  There was a woman, her wife, and their three children that caught his attention. Two girls and a boy. It was clear to Ben that the kids were all clones, though the youngest, the boy, was a gender swap of the thinner woman. They seemed happy enough, and had elected to give that kid light blonde hair, and blue eyes, meaning he didn’t fit with the rest of them at all. Wrong in every way, but still one of them. The boy was the first one to approach them, having seen the news. He was probably about ten or so, and really wanted to learn how to fight like they had.

  The mind powers were kind of neat too, of course. Not as great as the fighting though. Before the boy got more than two words out, one of his mothers dashed over and slapped a hand over his lips.

  “Sorry about that. Mark is a bit curious. A real handful.” She was annoyed by that part, even though the real difference was just that she’d elected to have a boy, and boys weren’t girls. Her world was focused around the female, and while she was smart enough to understand that humanity needed both men and women, hence having one of the other kind, there was a tinge of regret to the last child. As if it was too much to ask of her to raise a boy.

  Ben felt sorry for the kid, but merely smiled at them as if the whole thing had been cute. It was, in a way. Sad, too. The woman and her wife actually struggled to be good parents and really did try. They just weren’t able to understand what a boy needed to have in order to grow up to be a man. They were trying, subtly, to turn him into a girl, through training, and were kind of surprised that it wasn’t working. He was just the male version of two of them, after all. It should have made a difference, but Ben could have told them it wouldn’t have worked the way they wanted. Men and women were different. No one should have been shocked by the news, but people were from time to time.

  It was a strange tangent to go onto, but Ben saw the lines in his head. How the treatment little Mark was getting would lead to him trying to struggle for the approval of women his whole life, and fail, since the standards he was being trained to hit didn’t act
ually fit with what he could be or do. In the end, it would probably destroy him. If they all lived that long.

  The sense he got was a faraway thing, but there felt like something very dark coming. Years away, but close at the same time. Ben couldn’t really make out what it was, because as soon as it happened, if it did, everything just ended. Like when he tried to look into other realities.

  Lissa nervously ate doughnut after doughnut, finally getting nearly enough calories into her. After a while she started to eat more slowly, picking at her food.

  “I was thinking of putting out some feelers on a few projects. Is that a good idea? Acting, I mean. I never hated it. Not really. I’d gotten out of it, since my mother had made me do it for so long. It felt right at the time, but now I’d kind of like to get back to it.”

  Ben shrugged, but spoke without meaning, too. Sitting in the real world, but not in control of his mouth, which wasn’t a great thing. It was clearly predictive, but not a thing he was getting a chance to control or filter.

  “You need to do an autobiography first. Tell the truth about your childhood, and what you had to face. It doesn’t have to be from a big studio. Dave and Bethany can help you with that. Then you’ll have a lot of people interested in you. It will be hard, but I think it will really help you. Besides, you’re all going to need a project to work on, while I’m away.”

  He didn’t know where he was going. Clark asked, curious, rather than scared.

  “Taking a trip?”

  “Yes. I can’t say where, or how I’m going to get there, but I won’t be around for a bit. There are some things that need to be done.”