by Hanna, K. T.
“Twenty-nine PCs, right?” Sai asks, mentally tracking them all in her head, trying to insert something into this strange standoff Dom and Mathur seem to be having.
He nods. “I guess it will take a while to distribute it all.”
“Do we have that sort of time?” Sai asks, suddenly feeling a little less optimistic.
“As long as you come with me, Sai, it will work,” Dom interjects before Mathur can answer.
Sai blinks at him. “Me? Why me?”
His eyes regard her oddly for a moment, like they’re weighing both her and what he wants to say. His answer sends a shiver down her spine.
“Because none of the other dominos are ready yet, and you’re the closest I have.”
Kayde’s lab has always fascinated Sai. Beakers idly simmer, frothy substances balanced precariously at the rim. Readers are artfully scattered across the table surfaces as if artfully arranged. It’s enough to take her mind off the prospect of having to go on the Ebony runs with Dom. She hopes he knows what he’s doing because she’s still unsure of how far she can push her legs if needed. Kayde smiles at her as she looks up from her table.
“If it were anyone else, Kayde, I’d think you were amazingly and precisely organized.”
“But you know me too well,” Kayde murmurs. The tweezers in her hand barely move, but she grins and places her current beaker back down on the bench. Holding whatever she’s plucked firmly, she whips out a plastic bag and drops the invisible item inside it.
With a satisfied sigh, she finally turns to face her visitor, rubbing her hands together in undisguised glee. “You brought it with you? Mathur finally released it?”
“Yeah.” Sai hands over the container and shrugs. “What does it do, Kayde?”
“Nothing really. It’s just the copies of the pure specimen of Shine we had. Or, I should say, the precise breakdowns of the compound they call Shine. Fascinating, really. I can go through all the ingredients with you one day. Suffice it to say—it’s no wonder this affects people the way it does.” She takes the containers and places them carefully on the metal workbench. “I’m surprised the crap in this drug doesn’t kill people.”
Sai watches, curious as to just how much of the mad scientist label Kayde actually lives up to. If the perfect almost-disarray of the lab is any indication, she’s not really mad at all. Neither is Mathur. Sai frowns.
“Is the Ebony going to be ready?” Dom leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.
Kayde shrugs. “Technically, it’s ready. I’m just trying to break the texture down. That was the problem with it before. It was too thick and wouldn’t pass through the filtration system, causing a slightly poisonous backlash.”
“Only slightly?” Sai raises an eyebrow. These are cities full of people they’re talking about. She remembers all too clearly how easily they die on the outskirts. They don’t need any help.
Kai shrugs. “The thinner or more transparent I can make it, the better it will be for distribution. It needs to break down in the system so it’s virtually invisible and breathable, since I can’t exactly inject it into someone’s bloodstream.” She glances over at Dom. “And neither can you.”
Sai laughs. “He wouldn’t try. I’m hoping we don’t spend too much valuable time on distributing this stuff.”
“You’d better spend enough, though.” Kayde stops, her smile gone. “Seriously, Sai. This is important. Part of their ongoing victory over the Exiled is their ability to make the citizens of Mid-Am simply not care. We need to stop that, and this is the only way. Once that measure of thought control is gone, there will be nothing they can do to otherwise influence people.”
“People will get to choose what they believe and what they don’t.” Dom’s voice drops a tone, quieter than usual. “You know, like every normal being.”
Sai stamps her foot, ignoring for the moment the petulance in the act. “I know full well why we’re doing it. I wasn’t laughing at the task, but at your weird rivalry.”
“Oh.” Kayde’s face reddens, and she turns back to study the Shine container in her hand with an amazing amount of dedication.
“Anyway…” Sai hesitates for a second before expressing her concern. “Couldn’t Deign just…project?”
Kayde shakes her head. “Not to that extent. Magnified by the grid, she might be able to manage a section, but the Ebony would affect her ability, too.”
“How long then?” Dom interrupts, apparently unfazed by the entire conversation.
Kayde works for a few minutes, ignoring him, her face scrunched in concentration, blonde hair scruffy in its hasty bun. “Give me a day or two. Probably tomorrow night. You could leave after the salvage team returns.”
“Mele can travel during the day.”
Kayde nods. “I know, but night is still easier on all of you. If they’ve adapted their sensors enough to see these monstrosities, maybe they can see her. Night will make it harder.”
Dom shakes his head. “Mele is on a different wavelength. Trust me.”
For a long while, Kayde just looks at him. “One of these days, I’m going to figure out exactly how the alien parasite half of yours works.”
“Deal.” Dom smiles, without putting any effort into it, and Sai can’t help shivering at the result. “You have no idea how much a part of me the parasitic element is.”
Kayde pales, and her tone is cautious when she speaks again. “Any more news from Garr?”
The topic change is welcome, and Sai gladly butts in. “None yet. Have you figured out any solution to the visual acuity improvement Owen is introducing in the Damascus?”
Kayde shakes her head again. “I can’t exactly tweak the netting covering all of the Mobiles we have. Not to mention…” She falters and her face reddens again.
“Not to mention the ones we lost,” Sai finishes for her. There are some days she wishes there were a play button in her head. One she could hit before her vocal chords actually jumped into operational mode. Some things are better without memories.
Kayde nods, fiddles with a couple more of the beakers, and frowns while she transfers yet another invisible item. “It’s not going to help them see Dom and his siblings. It’s probably not even going to help them see Mele. But the Mobiles are so large, there’s really nothing I can do. They’re just too…big. And the nets are attached in so many places, it’d take weeks upon weeks to try and adapt them, and that’s after Mathur and I figure out what the hell it is Owen has done.”
Kayde takes a deep breath and faces Sai. “As good as it is that Garr is still trying to keep us in the loop, she doesn’t have the same resources as Bastian. There’s no way she can smuggle us out a part or plans or instructions or, hell, even hints. All we have is hearsay.”
“Best to stick to what we know.” Dom leans a hand on the bench next to him carefully. “We have to get Ebony distributed as soon as we can. If you need help with it, Kayde, tell someone.”
“I will.” Kayde grins. “But I’m fine.”
Dom nods curtly and turns, taking a step toward Sai. “I have to get back to the others. But should you need me…”
He leaves it open, and she smiles.
“I know.”
He watches her for a second more and then leaves the room.
“You two have some major codependence going on there.” Kayde’s tone is soft, contemplative.
Sai glances at her friend, even though the same thought has occurred to her once or twice. “You think?”
Kayde nods and moves a step closer. “But I think he needs you more than you need him.”
Sai looks up at Kayde, squinting against the lighting in the lab. Her friend is much taller, can probably take a hit or two. “I think you’d be surprised how wrong it feels without him.”
For several breaths, Kayde just studies Sai, an intense gaze raking over her face as if searching for something. “No. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be surprised by that at all.”
Sai’s cheeks heat up almost instantly, and s
he glances away. “Dom was there for me when I had no one, when I trusted no one.”
“And dominos can’t lie.” Kayde almost whispers the words. “After so many, that must be refreshing.”
Sai nods and rolls her shoulders out. “Dom is just Dom. He’s no one’s perception of anything. I’ve never met anyone more themselves.”
Kayde raises an eyebrow. “Odd phrasing.”
“No.” Sai purses her lips, trying to figure out exactly how to put it into words. “Dom can take on any form, within reason, that he chooses. He has the strength and cunning to do anything he wants with his life now. And yet, he’s chosen to be who he is and do what he’s doing. I find that pretty spectacular.”
Aishke and Darrien are sitting in the training room when she gets there, in complete silence. He’s only a touch taller than her friend, but his body shows off the heavy workout routine James demands. Every time she stands near him, Sai feels dwarfed. She takes in Darrien’s slowly healing wounds and cringes. “Something wrong?”
Aishke blinks owlishly. “Sorry? I was thinking…” She smiles softly and focuses on the ground again.
Darrien shrugs and picks at his uniform. Sai heads to the back of the room to bind her hands, hoping to fend off injuries they can poorly afford right now. While she can heal, it takes energy. Even though she’s been building endurance, just throwing away her reserves isn’t an option.
“Is there any word from the salvage team yet?” Aishke’s voice is soft and hesitant. When Sai turns, the girl is still looking at the ground, uncertainty radiating out like a pinwheel.
“Not that I’ve heard. As soon as someone does, I’m sure we’ll know.” She squeezes Aishke’s shoulder briefly and leans in for just a moment. “Thank you.”
It’s enough to see the slight smile that plays in the corner of Aishke’s lips for just a moment.
“You been practicing, Darrien?”
He nods and rolls his shoulders, lips pursed. “Somewhat.”
She scans him, from the tension in his shoulders to the slight frown on this face to the way he still favors his left side from their run-in with the Damascus. He’s uncomfortable and probably mildly confused. “Is this all of us today?”
“Some were sent on the salvage mission.” Darrien looks away. “Others are still arriving.”
Sai nods and wonders if it’s perhaps best to try and get Darrien back into the swing of things on his own. He had it rough in the encounter, and she didn’t heal him at the site. If she had, they all would’ve been dead. “It’s probably better this way. We have things we need to work through.”
She glances around and motions to Darrien to pull one of the other training dummies out into the middle with her. Two of them lined up, she activates a psionic layer over her hands, hitting the target hard in a flurried pattern. She turns toward the two of them, Aishke still on the floor.
“We lack stamina. And while it’s not the only aspect, our psionic stamina pulls from our physical endurance as well. If we’re not fit enough, we’ll never see this through.”
Aishke frowns up at her. “But we’re so much better now.”
Sai laughs, but it’s a harsh and derisive sound. “Better, yes. But we need to be more. Push more. Three blasts need to be nothing for us. Linking needs to be second nature. We have to make sure that if we push it, we don’t need a week to recover. We can’t win like this.” The words are harsh but true, and the pit of Sai’s stomach twists in knots she’s not entirely sure aren’t her own psionic power feeling the pinch.
Darrien nods, steel entering his gaze. “We need to be stronger.” He clears his throat, a slight flush to his cheeks. “I need to be stronger.”
Sai regards him briefly. “Why? What’s your motivation?”
He blinks at her. “Motivation?”
“What’s your motivation behind becoming stronger? Be the best you can be? Be better than others? Revenge? Competition?” She pushes the point, not having had many opportunities to talk to him since they got back. They’re all so scarred; she needs to know where his head is at. “Why should precisely you be stronger?”
Darrien cricks his neck, and his cheeks flush darker. “Because my sister is in one of those PCs, without a dormant gene or any protection. She believes everything they’ve told her about me. I need to fight for a chance to let her think for herself.”
Sai nods. It’s the right motivation, one she can work with. “Which PC?”
“Fourteen.”
Sai can’t help breathing a sigh of relief. “Having family in Central would be devastating. At least she’s safer there.” For now, anyway.
Aishke stands up, stretching out her shoulders by pushing down with the opposite hand. “If Central goes down, it all falls down.”
Sai smiles. They will be ready. “Like a domino.”
Dom watches as Mathur fusses with the base of Thirty-Five’s skull, pressing at specific points. He frowns a little, and his hands go to the back of his own head to see if he can feel anything there.
“You do not technically have an off-switch,” Mathur says with that subtle lilt to his voice. He reaches for one of the tiny electricity-conducting implements, dwarfed by the adrium stacked around his lab. It’s neat and tidy for the most part, with only a scattering of tools on his current work bench to indicate any activity.
Dom blinks at him, caught slightly off-guard. “I wasn’t really…”
“What are you thinking then?”
He shrugs, glancing at the pulse device which sits off to one side, momentarily on hold. “I’m wondering if we promised their capabilities a little prematurely. I don’t know if we can deliver what is necessary.”
Mathur puts the fine instruments down and turns to face Dom. “We are almost done. They just were not created like you.” He walks over and brushes a finger down Dom’s spine. “You are a whole, a single piece, a complete being. You were incubated as you are for a full nine-month term. They were rushed. The only thing vaguely programmed about you is your reset mode—a trigger I left in place should you melt down.” Mathur turns to face the prone domino on the table and nudges Dom gently. “This one and the rest were created with my plans, but with robotic elements inserted to ‘improve’ them.”
“They’re more advanced than I am?” Even to his own ears, Dom’s voice sounds skeptical.
Mathur chuckles. “No. They are close, but they are missing a few things that I cannot retroactively grant them, and so I must tinker.”
“You can’t recreate something that’s already been made.” Dom’s eyes don’t move from their focus on Thirty-Five as he tries to grasp the elusive idea that these others are like siblings to him. So similar, yet so distant.
Mathur nods and goes to pick up the tools again, but Dom shoots a hand out and stops him.
“Seriously, though. What is it you did to me? How did you make me so different? How were the instructions not included for them?” Dom’s grip is tight and he knows it. He eases up just a little, not wanting to bruise his maker, just needing to know.
“It is sort of a long story.” Mathur shakes Dom’s hand off and gently picks the tools back up. “But I guess there is no time like now to let you in on it.”
Dom leans against the wall, anticipation coursing through him. All these emotions, all the conflict inside him calms. “As it happens, I do have some time right now.”
Mathur chuckles as he goes back to work on the opened cavity behind Thirty-Five’s head. “I think you will be disappointed. It is nothing amazing or overly special, just something unique to a few of us.”
“Spill it.” As Sai would say… Dom waits, glaring slightly at Mathur.
Mathur doesn’t let Dom’s impatience faze him. He slowly completes the delicate work in front of him and shrugs while seaming the adrium back together. “I left them exact instructions. Precise, even. From the intricate positioning of your adjusted organs and access nodes to the complexities of making sure your synapses were connected everywhere they needed to be,
while not destroying them with the fusing of the adrium. To be honest, these other versions of you are perfect in almost every aspect.”
Mathur’s eyes are closed, and for a moment Dom feels a light, breezy rush of some form of psionic power, so quick and light he would have missed it had he not been paying attention. “If they’re almost perfect, what’s the difference?”
Mathur sighs and triggers the slow sequence to reinitialize Thirty-Five into waking. “The difference, Dom, is me. I am a healer. I am an exceptionally powerful healer. They spared me from the pits below because healers are uncommon. If they had realized Sai’s healing ability, Bastian would never have gotten his hands on her. Of course, how were we to know? She leveled a block…”
He leans against his chair, a soft chuckle lighting up his face. “I digress. When I created you, I put some of myself into how you connected with everything. You were not just made of psionic DNA and some alien metal. You were created because I wanted you to be. With everything that I am, I wanted you to live. I used my own DNA sample and infused every connection in you with life. I healed all the passages in you that were left raw and figuratively bleeding in the others.”
This time he sits heavily on the seat. His age has never been as obvious as it has since the fighting began. “If only I had not left the instructions. If only I had taken you with me.” Mathur looks up and smiles tiredly. “But I did neither of those, and now we have to fix this.”
Dom isn’t entirely certain what to say or if he should say anything. There’s far too much emotion in Mathur’s voice for him to deal with.
It’s like the old man can read his thoughts. He reaches up and pats Dom’s hand. “I do not expect you to understand, though. I always thought you would be far different than you are now. Not that we ever could have thought of the personality that would emerge in a human-adrium hybrid. For what it is worth, Dom, you have made an old man proud.”
“Thank you.” It seems appropriate, but Dom still feels marginally uncomfortable. “Sai seems to think there’s a way we can fix them.”