Parasite (The Domino Project Book 3)

by Hanna, K. T.

  She wonders if his knees hurt crouching like that. Hers don’t seem to anymore. “A burden shared is a burden lessened?”

  “Something like that.” He grins back at her, at least she thinks he does.

  She smiles and hugs a blanket close to her chest. Regardless of being hot or cold, it’s comforting. “They asked me if I knew what I’d done and then confirmed everything my twelve-year-old mind had thought up. Then they sat me down and gave me the speech.”

  Sai closes her eyes to block out those faces, but the words still ring in her ears.

  “What did they say?” Dom’s voice is encouraging, caring, and soft.

  “‘We realize this is not entirely your fault and have forgiven you for transgressions you couldn’t fully control, but your life is in our hands. Because of what you’ve done and our decision to spare you, no decision you make can ever be your own. You are bound to the GNW.’” Her voice hitches just a bit as she breathes slowly in and out to calm her fear. Even now, the memory brings back the sheer horror of what she was responsible for, the sheer depth of gratitude she believed she needed to show those people who were kind enough to let her live.

  “‘Be grateful we choose to let you live. You’ll need to prove yourself worthy of this gift every day. Do not disappoint us or we will reverse the decision.’”

  “Seriously?” Dom’s tone is one of disbelief and Sai cracks an eye open to watch his expression.

  “Seriously.”

  “I’ll add that reason to my list then.” He pats her head and leans in, resting his cheek against hers ever so briefly. With a soft kiss to her forehead, he stands in a fluid alien motion and moves back to the console. Her hand flies to the spot he touched. “We’ll put them in their place, Sai. All of us will. This is the last time they’ll ever intimidate a child like that.”

  “Yeah.” Sai smiles, curls up, and lets sleep claim her, knowing that Dom is her safe place.

  Sai wakes to the infirmary walls, the strangely draped ceiling closer than she remembers, and frowns. It’s the way it appeared when she first arrived at the Mobile. There’s no Aishke on the cot next to her and no Iria poking her head around the corner. A sudden pain makes her double over as she remembers Iria’s lifeless eyes, the blood on her hands.

  She stumbles into a standing position and realizes she’s still fully clothed—in body armor, nonetheless. It’s snug and tight, almost uncomfortably so, and conforms perfectly to the contours of her body. After checking outside the door that there is indeed no one out there in the eerily quiet Alpha, Sai turns back into the room and is shocked to find Bastian sitting on Aishke’s cot.

  “Can’t you give me a warning?” She glares at him, or attempts to. Everything around her seems calm and serene. Like the eye of a storm.

  His eyes regard her sternly. “What sort of warning would you like?”

  “I don’t know. A large red banner of the top of wherever I am in huge writing telling me, ‘Hi, Sai. This is Bastian’s subliminal conversation with you.’” She crosses her arms and tries to be angry, but can’t quite fight the relief at seeing him again. “Come to think of it, how do I actually remember what it is you’re telling me?”

  “These aren’t dreams and you remember them because you’re in a different state of sleep—a half-state of consciousness, if you will.” He pauses and leans back. “At least, I think that’s how it works. I’m still figuring it out and you’re the only person I can test it with.”

  She smiles and remembers how he tested her for harming only to yield the opposite result. “I get it.”

  He nods. “Anyway, they know.”

  “Who is they—define which one. And what is it they know?”

  Bastian sighs. “Subliminal messaging doesn’t really work that way, Sai. I don’t even think I’m supposed to be direct with you. I think you’re supposed to interpret.”

  “I don’t have the energy to interpret. Just tell me.”

  “I can’t guarantee you’ll remember it this way.” Bastian is more solid than the last time. His form doesn’t flicker in and out, and he looks precisely like Sai remembers him. “The GNW is aware that something is interfering with the suggestion nets in the outlying PCs.”

  “Damn it.” Her thoughts start racing, the increased patrols making sudden sense. “Do they know how?”

  “Not yet,” Bastian answers, shaking his head. “I mean that in the nicest way. I have a problem with this dilemma.”

  She raises an eyebrow.

  “You’re not my only concern. When the reports got back to the GNW that the thought manipulators weren’t having an effect, she sent out the best I have to test the theory. Which is fine and all, but these kids are people I’ve overseen the training of and am technically responsible for. I couldn’t let them take the fall for it. They’re innocent in this. Just because they were raised under this pathetic regime doesn’t mean they deserve to pay for their crimes.”

  “I know.” She bites her lip, trying to figure out if they can complete these missions.

  “Sorry. They had them beaten.” He pauses for a moment, one hand fluttering halfway to his cheek involuntarily before he snaps back to it. “Even Nim.”

  “Is she okay?” Sai fights the reflex that makes her want to rescue her friend, regardless of danger to everyone else.

  Bastian winces. “I had to give them a false trail, so I told them there was something interfering, but it had nothing to do with the net casters, to keep an eye out for illness and changes in diet. But they will find out, with or without my help. I’ve only bought you a little time.”

  “That’s okay. We’re not trying to save ourselves at the cost of everything else. We’re trying to save everything.”

  He chuckles, and now the solidity starts fading. “Damn,” he mutters. “I can’t keep this up for long. My communication can’t be counted on, but if you need me—truly need me to act on something—I’m sure you can reach me the same way I’ve been reaching you.”

  Sai nods, a part of her wishing she could reach out and not make him go. “I know. I’ve been watching minds for longer than I realized—it’s a natural thing. Probably your fault. Knowing when someone is and isn’t shielding. If I really need to, I can always get Aishke to punch through shielding for me.”

  Bastian nods and grins. “Don’t let her risk herself. Tell Dom to take care of you and that it’s an order.”

  She laughs as he dissipates and opens her eyes slowly.

  It’s a very strange sensation to already feel awake and then wake up. The fact that Dom is sitting in his chair, back rigid and eyes on the terrain as Mele navigates it, just like he had been when she fell asleep, is kind of eerie.

  “You had a Bastian dream?” he asks without turning around.

  “You eavesdropped again?” she fires back, genuinely curious.

  Dom shrugs. “No, but you do this strange thing with the tip of your nose. It scrunches like a rabbit.”

  “One of those vampire bunnies?” Sai sits up but notices the soft smile on Dom’s face.

  “Like the uninfected ones.”

  “Oh.” She runs her hands through her hair and pulls it back into a ponytail again while getting her bearings. “He wants us to know the GNW are aware that their grid is lessening in effectiveness. While he’ll try to throw them off-track, he can’t guarantee how long it will last.”

  “Completely understandable. I’d prefer as little innocent blood on our hands as possible. But…” He frowns in her direction. “What’s wrong?”

  Sai shrugs through the sudden tension in her shoulders. “I don’t know. I still have this gut feeling that something is missing, and I can’t shake it.”

  Dom glances behind him and frowns. Sai hasn’t taken point once yet tonight. He wonders if her back has been hurting more.

  “Sorry.” Her voice is soft and slightly out of breath, but she doesn’t make excuses.

  For a moment Dom stands there, fighting the urge just pick her up and carry her because it would
be faster. She’d swat him away so fast. “Okay. We have to keep up a pace. Ready?”

  She scowls up at him, takes an obvious breath, and nods. “Sorry.” This time it actually sounds like she means it.

  He checks to either side and moves out into the alley. PC 4 appears so tidy, so free of addicts and refuse, it’s almost like a foreign entity. He’s not used to working like this, and it’s eating at him. Sai’s been on edge all night, constantly muttering something about there being an off feeling about this that keeps getting stronger, and he can’t put his finger on what the problem is. The parasite inches close, casting shadows that juxtapose the bright flickering advertisements peeking between buildings.

  “We have two blocks to go through, and then over to the left. Patrol’s in seven minutes. You up for it?”

  Sai nods, that stubborn set to her jaw, and they set out at an easy pace. No phasing when they’re not sure what they could run into. It’s not something people will forget if they see it.

  The two blocks and the jump to the left are behind them in no time. They make it to the building in time to use it as shelter. Dom’s internal timer ticks down in perfect synchronicity with the patrol. He nudges Sai, and she rolls her eyes in response but squeezes his hand briefly. Another minute and the patrol is gone. When the dull clank is nothing more than an echo in the distance, he motions Sai to move out with him. The street grate here is smaller than usual, letting only a tiny beam of light into the huge maintenance shaft.

  One good thing about the better-kept PCs is the actual ladder bases and ledges inside the shafts. Although it’s probably still common for maintenance workers to abseil down, at least they have a ledge to hold onto and a ladder to climb down and get their bearings from. It’s a good thing, too—the pitch-black isn’t about to help any human out there.

  Even Dom has to adjust his eyes to compensate for the lack of light. He frowns and adjusts the heavy pack on his back. Sai moves down in front of him. His hands guide her to the ledge, and he’s quite certain he can feel her tremble. It’s not much, not even noticeable if he wasn’t touching her, but the darkness is made worse by knowing how fatal a fall would be.

  “It’s okay.” And he snaps the belt around her waist, tying her to him in case she slips. He places her hand on top of his. “If we keep our hands close together, it should make it a bit easier with the help of this ledge.”

  He can almost see her roll her eyes at him. “We’ve done this before. I’m not fragile, Dom, just in a bit of pain. Don’t worry. I won’t get lost.”

  Dom can feel the smile tug at his mouth. “Let’s just get this done together.”

  Her silhouette nods, and they begin to move slowly. Time ticks through his head like it’s somehow slowed down, and Dom doesn’t speed up. He can’t risk either of them falling, regardless of the tiny tendrils of impatience the parasite is weaving through his head. The breath of the fans is a welcome distraction, a confirmation they’re where they should be.

  “Thanks for that.” If he thought she was being short before, her voice is clipped with edges of pain now. Sweat beads her face, visible to him in the pale light coming from the other end of the ventilation corridor.

  He doesn’t dignify it with an answer, but makes a show of checking the straps on the backpack to make sure they’re good to go. She’s done this a dozen times. Surely she shouldn’t be this worn out. Maybe she’s sick? He blinks, realizing that while he was waiting for her, she already phased through the fans and was waiting for him on the other side. Perhaps the parasite is making her impatient, too.

  “What the…” Sai stands at the edge of the duct and glances down either corridor. Yellowish lights flicker ominously.

  “What the what?” he asks, looking at her.

  She gestures to the lights currently doing their best impression of an ancient disco ball. “The lights flicker in ways they really shouldn’t. It’s creepy.” Her whisper rises just a little at the end, her mouth twitching into a smile.

  “Let’s hope that’s not an omen.” Dom moves ahead of her and down the corridor. This part of the building has one patrol and no cameras. With any luck, they’ll make it to the next door and ventilation shaft without having to subdue anyone. The precision needed to knock guards out takes so much more time than just killing them. Dom has to stop himself before every try, restraining the glee that tries to insert itself into his mind. It would just be so easy, so much easier…

  It’s not their fault, though. They’re innocent, too. He shakes his head and leads the way, ignoring the odd frown Sai gives him. “What?” he finally whispers to her as they near the end of the right corridor.

  “Now you seem off, too,” she answers, clearly unhappy.

  He blinks at her and holds up a hand, gesturing that she be quiet, and closes his eyes. They can bicker about what’s off later. The footsteps he hears are distant, only just now coming up behind them. Dom heaves a sigh of relief and motions them forward to the next door. One more door, one more shaft, and the real complexity of this PC starts.

  They make it to the door safely. Its hinges are well-oiled. Like everything else—except, apparently, the lights in this area—it’s well-maintained. The passageway they enter is narrow and dank, a musty sort of moldy smell permeating the air around them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sai wrinkle her nose and suppresses a laugh. Despite everything she’s been through, there’s some things that’ll never change.

  It’s not long before they come to the next door. This one is old and not in good condition; in fact, it seems to have rusted shut. Dom scowls and kicks at the lock, forcing a sharp edge to his foot just where it makes contact. It breaks and slowly swings open on creaky hinges. The sound echoes through the whole shaft in front of them.

  He cringes and waits, counting to ten. When no rain of footsteps follow what was a hell of a loud noise, he steps through. There’s a different layout in this PC. Through this shaft, a short ladder climb, and a ledge to scoot around, and the ventilation hub on the other side. At least there’s more illumination in this one. Small lights line the walls about ten feet above the ledge all the way around.

  “Not too long now,” he whispers, knowing he should probably stay quiet, but needing to reassure her.

  Sai nods, takes a deep breath, and reattaches the rope.

  Another set of huge intake fans blocks their way again. Phasing through them has become almost a game. Whoever can recover from the climb first and get through them wins. There are no prizes per se, just bragging rights, but it’s fun anyway for the entire five seconds it lasts.

  The second air intake leads into a myriad of passageways. Dom takes a minute to bypass the camera security using the interface he has built into the small wrist device Kayde gave him.

  It takes a few minutes to put the video loop in place, and then he scans the schematics for this part of the facility. Sai is studying her own set of them off at the lookout position, just in case something unexpected happens.

  “Down, left, patrol, left again, patrol, straight, second right, patrol, right, straight, guard—hub.”

  “Got it. No idea why this one had to be so complex.” Sai cracks her neck and rolls her spine a little. “This is annoying the hell out of me.”

  Dom smiles despite himself. Sometimes he doesn’t think she realizes quite how much she helps even him out. Without her influence, the parasite gains control far too easily. He refuses to think his dependency on her might have consequences later on. If it does, he’ll deal with them then.

  Down and to the left, they wait at the corner—him completely melded and Sai’s bodysuit compensating for what half of her body can’t do. She’s still visible if you look at her, but the armor’s camo abilities are decent for the small wired concentration of adrium in the garment.

  They time stepping out with practiced perfection and dispatch the patrol with their usual efficiency, even if it’s getting more and more difficult for Dom to quell the nagging voice in his mind, more difficult to just
neutralize. But even with the delays, they’re only a few minutes behind schedule.

  She motions to him that she’ll go ahead and wait near the left wing. The second patrol goes down with even less of a fight. “On a roll,” he mutters and Sai grins, but the expression doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s not hard to understand either. Even the parasite is starting to whisper that things might be a little too easy.

  They head straight on and turn right down a smaller corridor. Their timing is a little off because, just as they hit their spot, the patrol rounds the corner. While they don’t see Dom, they see Sai almost immediately. Though they overpower the patrol fairly quickly—easier because their focus was on Sai and Dom’s attack came as a surprise—he has to rein himself in and ignore the dark part of him baiting him to kill everything in his path.

  “Two more,” he murmurs to himself, like a mantra that can keep him sane just that little bit longer.

  Sai’s hand on his arm is warm and grounding. “Dom?” Her eyes are full of concern, a wisp of silver working its way through her dark depths.

  He watches it, focuses, and allows its slow spiral to lull him. Then he pats her hand and gently removes it, resisting the urge to tell her how close his unwelcome darkness keeps coming to the surface. She doesn’t need his problems on top of her own. “Just one more stop, two more people, Sai. We’ve got this.”

  “I know.” Her voice is soft and tone comforting. He knows that, even though he hasn’t told her the worst about himself, she wouldn’t judge him anyway. It’s what he clings to when it starts to get too dark inside.

  The guards stand just next to the corridor leading to the hub. Dom motions to Sai and she nods as she moves slowly, so her limited camouflage isn’t rendered useless, while he makes his way around the other side to complete his own part.

  Guards subdued, they move into the hub room and stop short. It’s huge. Much larger than any of the other PCs. Dom looks over as Sai adjusts her backpack, obviously now aware of why she had to haul two extra canisters this time.

  He knew it would be huge, but not like this. Everything in the room is in pristine condition, and the whole massive dump of machinery runs so softly it’s almost unbelievable. “Okay, let’s do this then.”