by Hanna, K. T.
“This is like something out of a horror movie,” she whispers as they move ahead.
“I didn’t realize you were so nostalgic,” he murmurs, his attention not on her for the moment.
“I’m not, but I feel like that flickering light is going to go out and leave us alone with some monsters.” Something scuttles off to her left, going back the way they came. Maybe it’s a rat going to join the rest of his rat buddies in scaling the walls. “Sorry,” she says. “Overactive imagination.”
Dom nods in the dim light and moves on toward the brightness at the end of the tunnel.
It feels like it takes them a long time to reach a point where Dom speaks again. In reality, it was probably only a couple of minutes.
“We’re here. Off to the left. I need you to hold the shaft open. This is why I can’t do this alone. I may be able to morph to some extent, but I can’t stretch myself four feet.” In the dim light, she can see a hint of a smile on his face.
She glances around. “Is it odd there are no guards?”
Dom shrugs. “Not for this PC. They’ll have someone dropping by a few times a day in order to check on the progress and make sure the filters are working. But no—they don’t man this 24/7. Not here, and not in the first few we’ll be going to.”
“The outskirts aren’t that important to Central, are they?” It’s mostly a rhetorical question.
“Not at all.” He glances at her, a shadow crossing over his eyes so fast it’s gone before he continues. “There’s no influence to be gained on the outskirts.”
She tsks with annoyance.
“At least it makes our job here easier. For now.” Dom’s tone is grim, and it echoes Sai’s own sentiments.
The filtration machine is massive. There are twelve divisions of it, all branching off the main hub, which is exactly where Dom heads. He frowns for a second and pulls the container carefully out of his pack. “Here.”
He gestures to a flap about four feet up and on a slant toward the ceiling. Inside the flap is a metal handle that requires her rotate it and then tug it open and hold it there.
“You need me to hold this open while you insert the filter?”
“Yes. Long enough to make sure I get it working.”
She holds the flap, which is far heavier than it looks, and twists at the handle, raising it slightly. A chamber to the side opens up, and she can see several openings for canisters. Dom inserts the Ebony cylinder. With a twist of a small knob, it makes a whoosh sounds and disappears.
He points after a few seconds at a red light, now becoming green. “There. They’re supposed to use fresh filters every six months—or when the sign shows red. These guys on the outskirts are lazy, and their air is stale. At least for the next six months they’ll not only get their minds back, but have fresh air, too. We have to go.”
Without the burden of the Ebony, the trek out is much faster than the one in. They can jog the entire way. Getting past the fan at the end of the tunnel is a little trickier on the way out—far less room to make a mistake. Sai almost shoots past, but Dom’s hand grabs the waistband of her pants as she precariously balances on the precipice. Another time he’s saved her. It’s like a habit now and it’s starting to eat at her. Not because she doesn’t appreciate it, but because she doesn’t want to need it. Even from him. Perhaps especially from him.
As she scales the wall after Dom, far easier than she would have ever imagined, something inside her clicks, and a dread creeps through her she can’t seem to shake.
The drive to the next PC is spent mostly in silence. Dom glances over at her every now and again, concern mirrored on his face. Sai can’t bring herself to meet his eyes. Hell, it hurts to meet her own in the reflection in Mele’s screens.
“We’ll be at PC 27 soon. Will you be okay to come with me?”
“Sure.” Sai stubs her toe—or what pretends to be a toe against the bottom of her chair—and wonders why it only gives her a dull sense of having touched something. Are they malfunctioning? Is she losing her synaptic connection to her new limbs?
“Sai, I’m going to give you exactly five minutes to tell me what the hell has been wrong with you since we finished up in PC 29. If you don’t tell me, I’m going to pull over until you do and we’ll be stuck on this mission far longer than we can afford.”
Dom’s expression is one Sai’s not seen directed at her before, and she shrinks back involuntarily. He’s obviously annoyed. “I’m fine.” The moment the words are out of her mouth, she regrets them.
“You are not fine. So much that it’s distracting.” His eyes are on their path, navigating the dark with ease. “Tell me, Sai. You don’t usually keep things from me.”
She keeps her eyes averted. “I’m keeping them from myself.” The thoughts in her head scare her because the reality is harsh.
“Then tell me.” This time his voice is insistent but soft.
“I’m not human anymore, am I?” The words force their way past her lips, as if she needs reassurance from him that she’s wrong, that it’s all in her head. Even though she knows he’s not going to lie to her, not going to give her the answer she seeks, the innate need to be told everything is going to be all right gets to her.
For a few moments she doesn’t think he’s going to answer. The silence in Mele is suffocating, and the surprise tears won’t stop running down her cheeks.
His words are so soft that, when he finally does speak, she has to strain to hear him. “Not entirely. Not anymore.”
Her gasp echoes in her ears, and the sobs come fast as images flit through her mind. Of her power, of her feet, of her legs that aren’t legs but some foreign component attached to her skin so she can still fulfill her purpose for the Exiled. Maybe it would have been better if she’d stayed in the streets. Maybe it would have been better if she’d never passed that damned last exam. Maybe…
“Stop it, Sai.” Dom is there, so close to her, so gentle. So alien in the perfection of his features—so close to being what she never wants to become. She pulls away, but his grip is firm.
“Snap out of it.” Even with the urgency in his voice, it’s gentle. He’s always thinking of her.
She hears the tone in his voice, knows Mele is on autopilot, and is fully aware they’re on a schedule, but there’s a part of her still childish enough to just not care. To want the adults to finally buck up and take care of everything, to take care of her.
“You’re still you. You’re still the girl I helped Bastian teach, you’re still the person I helped realize just how powerful you could be, and you’re still the friend I care for more than I should. Don’t break down on me when I need you.” His voice grates as if he’s trying to fight back his own tears, which is odd, because Sai knows a domino can’t cry. Even though she knew all this without him having to say it, to hear the words is so much more comforting than just knowing them in silence.
“Then why can I do this? I’m not a domino, but I’m no longer human. A human being can’t will their body to change shape.”
“Neither can you.”
“Semantics,” she mutters. She doesn’t move from the hold he has on her, his fingers against her skin grounding her. It helps keep her thoughts level. “Can Mathur? He has a portion of one leg replaced, correct?”
Dom shakes his head. “He only has a calf—a prosthetic, no synaptic connections. There’s not enough adrium in his system to…form the bond.”
“But there is in mine?”
Dom nods, a sad sort of smile on his face. “I’m so sorry, Sai.”
She shakes her head at him. “This isn’t your fault. You weren’t yourself. And now, I’m not myself.” She laughs, a bitter sound even to her own ears. “I’m just not sure what to do, how to deal with this. Do I really just run around in a pair of shorts and no shoes?” Her fingers flutter down to where the adrium intersects with her flesh, the defining line becoming less and less apparent, even to herself.
“It’s melding with you, knowing you. It’s feeding
off you.” His voice is hoarse and sad. It’s not a side of Dom she likes. It scares her even more than being able to morph her feet.
“Will I die?”
Dom laughs softly. “It’s not like that. Adrium is a parasite. An alien parasite. Couple it with a machine and you’re fine. That’s all it needs for adaption and it finds the purpose. But couple it with psionic DNA and it thrives. It’s like it becomes sentient, a part of you, feeding off the electronic impulses that flow through your body. At some stage you’re going to have to fight its natural impulses, but at the moment, it’s just melding.”
A chill runs down her back. “Those dark thoughts?”
“The ones that coax you? Yes.” He gives her less of an answer than she wanted.
She laughs and leans her head back, cricking her neck to try and downplay the panic. “Fight the natural impulses? Am I anywhere close to that?”
Dom shrugs and lets go of her shoulders to brush her errant hair out of her face. The breath of his fingers against her cheek lingers like a promise of something she can’t fathom, doesn’t even know if she wants.
He reestablishes control of the console and looks back at her, his expression sadder than she’s ever seen before. “Take it one day at a time, Sai. One day at a time.”
Her bed is soft and fluffy, far nicer than anything she remembers sleeping in before. Sai rubs her eyes and looks around the room. She frowns at the all-white decor and the feathers floating out of the pillow she just pushed to the side. It reminds her of the facility in color, but not in comfort.
Swinging her feet to the side, she’s about to get up when she realizes just how far off the ground the bed is. There’s a plush white carpet far beneath her. She frowns again and turns around to gently lever herself to the bottom. It takes longer than she thinks, and the last few feet let her float to sit on the cushy ground.
“Sai.”
She knows that voice and turns, rubbing at her eyes again. “I’m dreaming?”
Bastian smiles at her, the warm smile he only showed her once or twice, but in the dream it could be a permanent fixture. “In a way.”
“You look better than you did last time.”
“Ah, yes.” His visage darkens for a moment. “I’ve arranged for my own sort of reprieve. This is odd…” He fades for a second before coming back stronger than before. “Sorry, still getting used to this type of telepathy.”
“This is telepathy?”
“Projecting my own consciousness to someone else is a sort of like dream-walking—a type of telepathy. But it’s not something I ever tried to do, not until that day…” He walks over—or floats over, Sai can’t tell. The movements are smooth. His expression turns sad for an instant as he glances at her legs.
She follows his gaze and realizes that, for the first time since she got them, she’s actively presenting herself in a dream with her new legs. The dark thoughts that threaten to overwhelm her stay at bay but only by sheer force of will. “You worried me, us… What arrangement?”
“They think I was trying to protect the people in the PCs.” There’s half a grimace on his face.
“It’s not exactly a lie. You were just trying to protect everyone.” She wants to reassure him. “They’d have known if you were lying.”
“True.” His face lights up, more carefree than she’s ever seen him. “I wanted you to know that I’m under supervision and Dom won’t be able to visit. This is the only way I can still gather information and deliver it to you. I’ll make sure it’s not a trap first, though.”
“How can you do this?” Sai asks, curiosity suddenly overwhelming her.
“Your core. Dom explained it to me, and when I need to hide that part of my consciousness I can no longer drug to keep from them—or when I need to utilize a little more power than I readily have—I just tap into it…and…it makes me feel so alive, Sai, so damn in control.”
She glances at him and the freedom with which he speaks in this state. “This place—it suits you.”
He grins like a twelve-year-old. “Thank you. Will you tell them…tell them that while I’ll still need to get out of there, I should at least be able to work in a concerted effort with you when the time comes. Help you complete the task. I’m no longer completely useless.”
She smiles, and the expression feels oddly soft in this place. “You never were.”
“Perhaps, but still let them know.” His blue eyes practically glow with intensity as he speaks.
“I promise.”
“I think he’s trying to wake you.” Bastian’s words are fading. The entire world is fading and her head feels so light she can’t think anymore.
“Sai.” Dom shakes her, but Sai’s eyelids are too heavy to force open.
“Lemme sleep a minute.” She fends him off feebly, eyes squeezed shut as she tries to maintain that groggy state.
“We don’t have a minute. You’ve been asleep for ages.”
Sai’s eyes snap open as she crashes to earth with the realization that she’s in the passenger’s seat and not that beautiful wonderland she’d been in moments ago.
“Sorry.” She forces herself to sit up properly, blinking her eyes to try and clear her head. “Had a dream.”
“That wasn’t a normal dream.” Dom heads to the back of Mele and starts gathering their things. “What is Bastian doing?”
“How can you hear my dreams?” She feels a little invaded, a bit vulnerable. Maybe Bastian’s attempts to reach out to her through her dreams is what’s been making her sleep so much the last couple of days. It’s probably interfering with her actual sleep.
“I can hear anyone’s dreams, thoughts… I usually choose not to.” His back is to her, but he turns around as he slings the backpack over his shoulders. “When you mumble strangely in your sleep, I want to make sure you’re safe there, too.”
The words settle between them, and the vulnerability trying to eat at her evaporates. He’s right. If Bastian can get to her through her dreams, there’s always a possibility another powerful telepath could, too. She smiles and nods, still mulling over the dream in her mind.
“Are you ready?” he asks, tone soft. “This is the last run for tonight.”
“Third one’s the charm.” She barely even remembers the second. It’s a blur of forming and reforming her feet to fit. The mental acuity it demands is taxing, and her upper body burns so much it feels like she’s on fire. To top it off, it’s getting easier to trigger her feet.
This time they leave Mele a little farther away from town.
“Sensors,” Dom says by way of explanation. “Mele is mostly adrium, but she does have certain electronic elements that sensors will scan for.”
“Mmm…” Sai concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, not feeling as rested as she should. “Why did we do PC 29, PC 27, and now PC 28?”
“Because someone at city planning decided to build PC 28 after PC 27, but farther in front of PC 27. So the distances are off.” He shakes his head, and she thinks she can see suppressed laughter in the movement of his shoulders.
“City-planning genius then.” She smiles as Dom chuckles out loud this time. She steps faster to fall into step with him.
“I didn’t intrude in your dream. Just enough to make sure you were safe,” he says softly as they enter through another desolate alleyway and blend into the dregs of the city. “What happened?”
“Bastian is fine and figuring out his own abilities as enhanced by his core.” She sighs, belatedly unsure about the shining confidence around her mentor.
“It enhances his telepathy?” Dom raises an eyebrow. “That’s interesting.”
“And a little worrisome.” Her gut starts to roil again. Dom nudges her gently, and she smiles, but takes a breath to continue. “He seems to revel in the power.”
“Power is tempting.” A shadow passes over his face.
Sai shakes her head to try and clear out the negative thoughts. “They believe he was trying to stop the Psionic Wars from r
epeating themselves.”
Dom walks a few feet in silence, eyes on the ground, as he searches for the way in. “At least he’s all right.”
“Yeah…” Sai follows his gaze. “There!” She points triumphantly at the grate, half-hidden by a dilapidated building’s outer wall. “Maybe we should make a contest out of this.”
Dom looks at her for a moment. “Deal,” he says before jimmying the grate open. “As long as you keep score with me and tell me the rest of the dream.”
“He said he doubts you can reach him in person, but that he will make himself useful to us. I don’t think we could stop him from putting himself in danger if we tried.”
“And he’s extending his reach with the core?” Dom asks as he lowers himself into the shaft.
He has to wait for his answer until they’re inside PC 28’s facility. Sai follows him more easily this time, even though it’s difficult to ignore the screaming muscles in her chest and shoulders. “Yeah, really. He said he figured it out in desperation when they had him dosed on Shine. We’re not to worry about him.” Because that’s so easy, she wants to add, but doesn’t.
“Okay,” Dom answers nonchalantly as he inserts the canister smoothly. In the distance, there’s a steady plop of water echoing through to them. Sai shivers.
Sai can tell it isn’t, though, and she doesn’t blame Dom because there’s something not sitting right with Sai about the whole situation either. Not with Bastian, not with how easy it’s been so far. The place is deserted for the third time in a row. Sai isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth as they say, but the whole setup leaves her queasy.
“Don’t worry about it. Kayde assured me the closer we get to Central, the more difficulties we’ll have getting in.”
“Will you get out of my head?” Sai bites back to stop from snapping the words.
“Sorry.” Dom pauses. “Habit. And Bastian was right. You think very loudly.”