One of the students at the university, a friend of Alan’s, received this from a friend at the university in Belland. He was questioned the next day, along with a few others he had shared it with; they all immediately left school for personal reasons. Alan just happened to have a hard copy, printed out by one of the students and left behind, which he scanned in and kept secret. Everyone in the department was interviewed, but there were no other unplanned departures.
Interviewed by who?
Mercy shrugged, Alan said they were government, but he didn’t know which department, and nobody was about to ask any probing questions. Look here.
She pointed to the short article underneath, which mainly claimed, without any substantiation, that the Kin had been researching ways to eliminate Human powers for years, but they had not been able to find a way to do it. It went on to state that they had finally given up on the quest to “cut it out of us” in favor of the more successful study of restricting and then removing the Human’s ability to use their gifts. Mercy highlighted the paragraph that discussed an undisclosed, anonymous insider who revealed that the Kin were in the final stages of a distance weapon. Similar to a taser gun, it shot small cables that speared the Human power user and then sent “tight, high frequency waves” of an unnamed type which shut down the Human’s powers.
It could be a hoax, Cord sent. They both looked at the picture, and agreed that it could be doctored or a complete fake, since there was nothing in it that couldn’t be set up, from the Human’s condition, to the noticeably absent Kin and their machinery.
If so, then why the disappearances?
Maybe for just talking out against the Kin.
They both thought that was pretty unlikely. Neither had seen evidence of that type of suppression in their time at school, and the university was a place where many discussions, seminars, and protests were held that had at their heart anti Kin sentiments.
There is only one more thing, she said, shrinking the file, dragging it to the side and pulling another out of the Teris folder. Inside was another scanned document, this time of a personal letter.
Dear Alan,
Good morning, or, at least it will be when you receive this, since the forsaken hours in the depths of night jealously horde the few minutes that haven’t already been spoken for in my busy life. I would have called, but, since doing some research on the topics we discussed, I’ve decided that it isn’t prudent to discuss them over the phone or other monitored communications. Also, I want you to destroy this as soon as you finish reading it. I know it sounds paranoid, but I want you to do it anyway.
Per your inquiry, I asked around (with increasing hesitation as time went by) both here and with colleagues at other institutions, and found that everyone was both ignorant of it and highly reluctant to discuss it. I haven’t encountered evidence of anything like what you described on the phone. However, it seems like a logical progression to me, given the amount of control the Kin are comfortable with exerting over us and the unpredictable nature of EFM, with the exception of one thought.
I can’t help thinking that the idea of containing the use of power with technology is a daunting, if not impossible, task. It seems (sorry for being blunt, but you know my nature) like an unnecessary drain on resources. Historically, and I am just stating facts here, both our forefathers and the Kin took the easier way out when feeling the threat of these powers, by simply removing the troublesome user and his progeny from the pool. Given that the Kin in the last hundred years or so have been clear about their disregard for individual Human lives, why the attempt now to preserve these lives? I can only think that they want to make use of it, another crop to be harvested from their fields.
Sorry, I’m feeling grouchy tonight. Remember, it’s late. I’ll move on.
There was a project I was fortunate enough to get authorization to visit some eight months ago that might be related in some way. You know that, for my purposes, EFM is just another variable in the Kin-Human political dynamic, one that only relatively recently has been of any import at all. But, as developments in the bordertowns demonstrate, it is becoming more and more influential in negotiations. That’s why, during my last relations conference in Oerata, it came up in several of the seminars. One of the speakers talked exclusively on the topic, and actually showed some video.
On the video, several people who we were assured were volunteers, demonstrated their talents. One woman used her ability to build a house of cards without touching a single card; each one just floated from the deck to a position in the intricate structure. Another woman, a young girl actually, healed a small cut on someone’s arm. It looked like a magic trick, since she moved her hands over it and chanted something unintelligible. Several people laughed outright, despite the fact that the cut completely closed, leaving just a red line. Since I’ve read your research, and seen what they are working on here, I wasn’t one of the ones laughing. Another man standing behind a partition named the picture that was held up on a card he couldn’t see.
During the presentation, and this is the interesting part, each waited in and then returned to a small chamber at the back of the large room. It looked like an enclosed waiting area, with a row of chairs that could be seen through the window where they sat until their turn. The narrator of the film moved to a new display for each presentation and continued to speak about the other talents they had uncovered (nothing you haven’t already researched), so it was hard to get a good look at it. What I saw took just a moment and was in a small corner of the screen, so you didn’t notice it unless you were looking. While he spoke, the card trick lady stepped through the door, cringing slightly on the threshold and then closed it behind her. Then an assistant hit a code next to the door and a small glowing readout appeared, too small to decipher, of course. He checked it and then stepped out of the camera’s range.
The narrator stepped aside to point to a chart, and the camera followed him, passing the earlier demonstration platform. As the view passed over it, I noticed that the house of cards had collapsed, something it hadn’t done when she walked away from it. That’s all the information I have about it, and the people that were there with me hadn’t noticed it when I asked them recently. In fact, at the time, I barely registered it as more than an interesting quirk. Afterwards, having gotten caught up in the rest of the presentation, I forgot about it completely, until we spoke on the phone about interfering with Human energy fields. So, my empirically gifted brother, is there sufficient evidence there for at least a hypothesis?
As for your other question, the infamous Kin Resolution 2538 that was adopted four years ago is clear on the issue. It is legal for the Kin to conduct experiments of any type on “Humans who can be reliably identified as powered.” Neither our government nor the individuals themselves have any legal recourse, per the classification of such people as criminals. The resolution was passed quietly and there has been no move to enforce the code that our department has detected–it just sits there on the books–but it is there for a reason.
You might consider the ethical ramifications of documenting your student volunteers as powered. I would not advise any Human to openly declare or allow to be documented in any way a connection to powers or EFM. I know that puts a crimp in your studies, but the fact remains that by allowing themselves to be labeled as powered they strip themselves of their most basic rights. Why the people in the demonstration did is beyond me, but then, our history is full of people making decisions like that. Perhaps they weren’t aware of just how stupid it was to expose themselves like that.
The majority of our citizens are still blindly ignorant of the impact of 2538 on our civil rights, and, of those that do know, few care, due to the apathy toward the historically small and marginalized group. The taboo on powers in some communities has made things worse, as antipathy to the group has made people look the other way or, worse, make them feel like any harsh treatment of the group is justified.
I know I’ve told you this before, but I’m
going to say it again anyway. You may not be powered, but your close association with a flagged group is dangerous. At the very least, you are a link to these people, at the worst, it is not inconceivable that you could be deemed a conspirator if things go badly. Again, the law is there for a reason, and it won’t be a good one, you can count on it. I fear for you. I just don’t see how you will be able to avoid getting caught up in it. Given your obsession, I know it is a waste of ink, but humor me and consider making a change in emphasis, if not field.
Before I get some sleep, I have an interesting note slightly tangent to the topic. I know you are always interested in power trivia. However, I’m giving the typical disclaimer up front on this one, because I’m not sure how valid it is. One of my graduate students found the enclosed story in an old journal while researching his thesis. The link is below. I know you are already familiar with the witch hunts, so you might have already come across this. In short, there is a reference to a hound that was used to detect what was then referred to as ‘creepers’ in the bordertowns in the Southern Sun region some thirty years back, when the taboo on powers was particularly strong in that area. Apparently, the dog could tell by the scent if someone was powered. Of course, if that were true, the Kin, whose senses are easily as strong, would not need the Human assistance they currently require to detect EF manipulators. Maybe you could help in a little debunking here…? Any ideas? Wouldn’t mind putting a little pressure on my student, just to remind him that, while he may be the top in the group, he’s still about a foot from the bottom of the mountain.
Mother sends her regards, and wants to know when you’re getting married. Yes, I told her you weren’t seeing anyone. No, it didn’t dissuade her. Yes, it never ends. No, I won’t intercede for you. Please call her or she’ll continue to harangue me about it.
Regards, Trev
What a windbag, even worse than his brother.
What do you think?
It doesn’t surprise me at all. Mercy saw a handful of quick images shoot by her of things he had witnessed growing up in a bordertown. Kin knocking on doors, entering, taking people away. Public executions. A secret meeting of Humans in a basement. Two people he knew, dressed for travel, taking with them what possessions they could carry, one who was powered…
Cut that shit out. You know I hate you doing that.” He pushed her power away, and finished by speaking out loud.
“I didn’t do anything. It was you,” she objected, because it was true. She couldn’t prevent herself from seeing things that ran across his mind when they were connected; he was the one who needed to control his thoughts better. However, she still felt bad that she had seen things that he wanted to keep private. “Look, I’m sorry. I can’t really help it, can I? Anyway, this whole thing makes me nervous.”
“It isn’t any worse than being shot, or hit by a taser gun. Both will shut you down, interfere with your focus, so the result is the same.”
“So why even bother with something that only controls your use of power?”
He shrugged.
She pulled up the flyer again, wondering what had happened to the subject of the photo. Her imagination, her sometimes friend, double-crossed her by replacing the tan skin with gray.
“Do you think Scythe could...I don’t know, have been captured, by something like this?”
“No,” he said automatically, which was a relief, because it was her first thought, too. But, then, offhandedly, he shrugged, “Well, maybe. Who knows?”
Who knows? she thought to herself, feeling the panic rise in her. Don’t say, ‘Who knows’!
Who knows? scared her, especially the way he said it, as if it didn’t really make a difference. Who knows? meant that it didn’t matter if people she cared about, people she needed, were vulnerable.
Nothing frightened a person like Mercy more than an attitude like that.
Her parents, her brother, the man she wanted to spend her life with: these were more important to her than anything else. That was why, in the moment she had heard about Scythe’s disappearance, she had abandoned all her ambitions to complete school and establish herself in the city. School, work, day-to-day errands, her routines: those things were just a means to support the family, to make a life for herself and them. If there wasn’t a family to care for, to serve, to protect, then what was the purpose of living in the first place?
And, for Mercy, it was more than just duty. She loved them, and she wasn’t merely emotionally tied to them. Because she was constantly in touch with them through her power, she was a part of their lives. It hurt her when they were hurt. When they were sad, it tore at her heart, and she wrapped them in her sympathy and love. When they were mad, she wanted to tear something up, but instead she listened and tried to calm them. When they were happy, she shared their happiness. And, when they were in danger, she would do anything, everything, to bring them home safely. Each little thing she did, down to breathing, was for them, so there was no room for Who knows? or its silent shadow, Who cares?
She wanted him to know that Who knows? didn’t belong in her world. Besides, she thought that their first instincts were probably right anyway. Scythe wasn’t someone who was easily caught, or, once caught, was easily kept.
-----------
The next meeting went very smoothly.
He held up a picture.
“You know this woman?”
Scythe looked at it.
“Yes.”
“You want me to line her up next to your friend?”
“No.”
“Then get to work.”
He did.
Chapter 16
I am sorry.
“About what?”
About, well, the hard times...
The smell of clashing chemicals and Human illness in the small, white hospital room had filled his head and then sunk down to settle in the back of his throat. Machines with bright displays and cheerful beeps littered the room, hovering over a bed that dwarfed Scythe’s shrunken mother. Scythe himself sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. His gray face was a window thrown open to reveal the devastation he felt to anyone passing by.
Ian Young stood to the side, holding close a woman who was heavy with child. Sometime later, Lena strode in, going right to Scythe and wrapping her arms around him.
She whispered, “Scythe, I’m so sorry.”
At first, he didn’t react to her. He just sat numbly watching. Finally, he pulled his eyes from his mother, closed them tightly, and leaned his face into Lena’s shoulder.
“They...they drugged her when they first found her. She was out looking for me, and they saw that she was a Human and they grabbed her. They used something to calm her, but it didn’t work right; she had some kind of reaction. They kept putting more and more stuff into her, trying to fix it, and when they were done, she was empty inside. Then they told me she was a casualty of the rescue attempt.”
Faith, whose eyes were red and swollen from crying, spoke, “It was wrong, Scythe. It was evil, what they did to your mom.” She leaned deeper into her husband’s embrace, squeezing his hand tightly.
Scythe nodded, his face burrowing deeper into Lena’s neck.
Young Scythe whispered into her skin, “How did you bear it, Father? It’s ripping me.”
Scythe said only, “Don’t call me that,” but in a weary voice, like he didn’t expect to be minded. He moved closer and laid his hand over his mother’s head and watched her quietly. After a while, he whispered, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want you to let me go.”
The youth looked at him quizzically across his mother’s body, “You can’t go until I’ve seen it all, or I won’t be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready to live. I want to live, Father; I’ve waited so long here, for someone, anyone, to come and show me how to live. My brothers and sisters still sleep; they aren’t ready, but I am. I want to run and play and see things, like you have. I’m lonely here and I want to live!”
&n
bsp; Scythe sighed, “Let’s get on with it then, so you can go and have your first scraped knee or whatever. But you have to stop calling me Father, okay?”
The youth looked at him and said with an impish grin, “Nope, ‘cause that’s what you are to me, unless you want me to call you My Savior or My Hero?”
Scythe cringed slightly in disgust. “No thanks.” He ignored the boy’s chuckle and turned his attention to something else that had been bothering him.
The symphony’s four long parts played around them: two rich, energetic pieces that searched and embraced, and two somber parts that fearfully hid and mourned. Scythe frowned when he tried to affect the latter two, the bars shifting slightly for a brief time, but then falling back into place.
He looked over at the boy on the bed, who had turned his back again, his hand in the cold grasp of a dying woman. Without moving, the boy explained, “The memories have a stronger influence than you do, now. I am in their grasp, and further from your reach.”
Thinking that what was to come was far worse than what the boy had already been exposed to, Scythe protested, “But...”
“I know.” I know it will be hard. Harder even than this.
“How?”
“I can tell. It’s all over you.”
“Then stop, before...I...I don’t want that for you...for anyone. Shit, not even for me...”
“It will be okay,” the boy said, looking out the window at the mockingly beautiful day.
“It will probably not be okay. How do you know it will be okay?”
“Because I chose you. Because you came when I called. And, you are at the end.”
“So, if I left right now, you’d be...what? Stuck like this?”
“I won’t let you leave me like this.” He turned to Scythe with the ghost of his usual smile playing on his lips, “I suspect you wouldn’t, in any case.”
Halfblood Legacy Page 24