He was perhaps the handsomest man I'd ever met. To me, however, Ilya would always be my ideal.
"Cabbage?" Ilya turned to me.
"Honey, we need to know, and this will allow you to be who you were meant to be."
"Then do it," Ilya jerked his head at Erland.
"I have to put my hands on your head," Erland cautioned.
* * *
Ilya
"Fifth-level capability," the one called Erland sighed and took the offered seat at the kitchen island.
"What does that mean?" I didn't attempt to cover my accent.
"It means you can kick ass after your training," Erland said. "Most can do basic things after their power is awakened, but most six-year-olds don't have the focus the older students do. You, on the other hand," he shook his head. "I think your middle names should be focus and control."
"What are the levels, then, so I may make a comparison?"
"First is weakest, Fifth is strongest. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes."
"You don't sound pleased."
"I am most displeased that there may be a clone of me with the same power I hold," I said. "One who is obsessed-perhaps more so than I am."
"Very true," Erland dipped his head in a nod. "At least he's on someone's chain and likely to use his abilities on command, rather than going wild and causing random destruction."
"That's a rather horrible thing to say," Corinne interrupted. "Somewhere, there is a victim who is being coerced in the worst way possible."
"I understand," Erland held up a hand. "I fear for innocent lives if he isn't coerced. I imagine he is damaged in some way and no longer holds perfect reasoning. He only knows pain, if my calculations are correct. An animal in pain is a dangerous one. Would you not agree?"
"How does an obsession work with someone who is brain damaged?" Corinne turned to Nefrigar.
"Lord Morphis is correct in one respect," Nefrigar sighed. "If the damage created is not repaired, the farther this individual could sink toward his basic, instinctual level. Obsessions cannot be placed upon animals. They fail to take hold."
"So we may be working against the clock-to find this one before he goes completely mad," I muttered.
"Finding him would be best," Erland agreed. "His death should be swift-and as merciful as you can make it."
"Do we have information on his whereabouts?" Corinne asked. "And is there any other option?"
"None," Nefrigar replied.
* * *
Corinne
Somewhere, hidden by the ass-hats who used to be in charge of the American government, was a brain-damaged Ilya who could and probably would perform any misdeeds directed by his less than ethical masters.
I understood that the one acting as former President Phillips was a powerful Sirenali directing his warlock puppet. Anything could come from that unholy alliance, whether the Ilya clone intended it or not.
I understood why they were so anxious to get Sergei and Katya, too; capture them and either force them to reveal Ilya's location, or threaten their lives to bring him into the open. They wanted to make more Ilya clones. They had no idea that capturing Ilya would gain them nothing; Valegar had neutralized Ilya's blood already. There would be no more clones. To me, that spelled further obsession to do their bidding if they managed to capture him.
I'd taken a seat in the sunroom I'd created at the ugly building in Arlington, just so I could stare out the windows at the city and its suburbs beyond.
He doesn't like feeling helpless, does he? Gerrett joined me, choosing a nearby chair and flopping down on it.
"If you're talking about Ilya, then that's putting it in mild terms. I believe he is currently furious, and that's perfectly understandable."
They tried to get information from Sergei. I understand that, he jerked his head in a nod.
"They almost killed Sergei, and then intended to come after Katya," I agreed. "He's pissed about that, too."
In their hands, he would be quite dangerous, Gerrett said.
"We'll do our best to keep him out of their hands," I responded. "Katya, Sergei and their friends, too."
I understand this. However, I also know that removing him from the planet will ensure that they do not find him.
Right. I doubt any of them would agree to that.
Stubbornness. I see it far too often, he gave a mental sigh.
Yes, that made me laugh.
"I was going to offer to take you wherever you wished to go after this is over," I said.
But, he began, I cannot think of a safer place for one such as myself than beside a Larentii.
"Are you certain of that?" I asked. "Wherever I go, trouble seems to crop up."
Yes, but one of my kind will never control you, he responded. Or any Larentii. I know that much, at least. My mother was quite bitter over that.
Do you know the history of the Larentii and the Sirenali? I asked.
No. She would beat me if I asked.
The Larentii don't like to talk about it, either, I shrugged. It goes like this, though, so make sure of your answer as to where you'd like to go after you hear this story.
I'm listening, he nodded.
Long ago, I began, Sirena, your home world, was ruled by one who came to the throne by assassination. He wished to take whatever he could-worlds, people, treasures. Whatever he desired.
He understood, though, that he didn't possess anything other than obsession to gain what he wanted.
The Larentii, however, possessed everything.
Of all the races, only one was made who could slip past the shields around the Larentii homeworld. That race was Sirenali.
The king gathered his finest warriors, to attack that world and bend Larentii to their will by placing obsessions.
By the hundreds, they transported themselves. Once there, they discovered that not only could they not place an obsession upon even the youngest Larentii, they were also guilty of trespass. In the beginning, the Sirenali had signed a pact with the Larentii that they would never approach the Larentii upon their homeworld-either to destroy it or harm its inhabitants. The pact decreed that the Sirenali would be subject to Larentii judgment if that pact were ever broken.
When the first Sirenali set foot on the Larentii homeworld, the pact was broken. Once the invaders discovered they couldn't place obsession on a Larentii, they attempted to take young ones-to enslave them.
The Larentii were enraged. Their children are the most precious thing to them, and each one is loved and treasured.
So, not only were those Sirenali killed who'd attacked the Larentii, but because Larentii children were made targets, Sirena itself was destroyed. It is the only time the Larentii have ever gone to war, and it was to save their children.
The few Sirenali who remain were either offworld during the destruction, or pulled away by the powerful before it happened. The Larentii do not speak of their act of destruction-it shames them that they destroyed an entire world because a small percentage of the population attacked them.
Young Larentii are taught that seeking vengeance against the innocent must never happen again.
That is a frightening story, Gerrett shook his head. I think I understand most of it, although I want to weep for the innocents lost.
Me, too, I said. That's why I want to protect you-because you deserve so much better than you have received before now.
And that is why I wish to remain at your side-because you see me as a person and not a slave.
* * *
Notes-Colonel Hunter
Matt and I sat in the Oval office, while the President stared at his hands. Both rested atop his desk, as if he were contemplating an action he found distasteful. Finally, he spoke.
"We are at war," he said. "A war we cannot declare openly, against those who seek to overthrow our government and all the others. It was their plan last time. It is their plan again. Amelia Sanders is dead because of the enemy. While the country believes it an act of jealo
usy at the hands of her husband, we understand there were other motives. That makes me-and this office-their next target."
"What do you suggest we do, then?" Matt's unblinking gaze leveled on Granville.
"I want a team of assassins gathered, to attack Phillips' compound. I've had it under surveillance since Graye Sanders was invited there. I only have information as to employees leaving to run errands and then returning. The forensics team that went through Graye's suite found little, but they supplied information as to whom they saw there. I have their reports if you'd like to go over them."
"I assume this attack will in no way be associated with the White House?" I asked.
"An organization will take responsibility," Granville huffed. "A manhunt will ensue. If you want, we have intel on a cell of insurgents hiding in the country. We can haul them in for questioning."
"I'm not sure I like this idea," I stated flatly.
"You won't be involved. Neither will Matt. Hold all your people back-I'm handling this one."
"And when they retaliate?" Matt asked, his voice soft.
"I'm hoping there won't be anyone who realizes the terrorist attack is false," Granville replied.
"Until you realize that Phillips was in league with that bunch since before he left office," Matt snapped, standing abruptly.
"There's an offshoot of that group," Granville began. "They've made some threats."
"I'm aware of that. What if they're in this up to their hairline?" Matt shook his head in disbelief.
"They've stated that they want all Americans dead. I assume that includes former Presidents, too."
"I stand with Matt on this," I said, rising to my feet. "I also understand you're not willing to listen to our advice, since this plan is already in the works. I think it best that we leave now. I have people I'd like to speak with, to see what the potential fallout will be."
"I don't want you to discuss this with anyone," Granville snapped.
"Tell that to Corinne, who will see it in my face. I don't have to open my mouth," I said.
Granville cursed while Matt and I walked out the door.
* * *
Corinne
"Cabbage?" Ilya walked into the kitchen, where I watched Gerrett devour a massive omelet. Auggie had called moments before, telling me my work as a White House staffer was over. In fact, President Granville had dismissed all the Saa Thalarr guards we'd brought in to protect him.
I understood without asking that Granville's PTSD had kicked in and he was declaring his own war. Those who'd volunteered to guard him and the White House would naturally disagree with his methods and tactics, so he'd sent them away.
"We lost our help," I muttered. "Those who came to guard the White House have been dismissed by the President."
"Because he wants to wage his own war, rather than relying on others to protect him. Foolish," Ilya shook his head.
"I'm worried that he hasn't thought this through. We know what the enemy is capable of doing. I doubt he fully understands. He could end up dead and hand the country right over to those he wants to keep it from."
"The bigger bomb," Ilya sighed. "Your weapon may be able to protect you from your neighbors or petty thieves, but it will be ineffective against the bombs dropped from overhead. You-and your gun-will be destroyed."
"Yeah."
"My love?" Valegar strode into the kitchen. "I just came from the meeting with Gavin and the others-Father invited them to the Archives after their dismissal," he said.
"What did they say?" I asked.
"They say things are not good," he replied. "If I thought I could convince you, I would take you and those you wish to bring with us and leave this world behind. Father says it is too important to abandon. I understand this-from his perspective. From my perspective, it frightens me to stay."
"I feel as if the ground has shifted beneath our feet," I said. "But it hasn't dropped from beneath us. Not yet. We have to stay, honey. You know we do."
"I am concerned about the terrible things to come," he dropped his gaze.
"Honey, terrible may not be a strong enough word."
I still here, Bekzi sent mindspeech. You need, I come.
Thank you, I returned. For now, keep an eye on Farrell. I'm concerned about what he may do if the President pulls Jen and Brett away.
You think this may happen?
They're his to command, so yeah, I think it could happen. He doesn't have control of us, remember, and he realizes that we won't involve ourselves in all his hastily made plans. Jen and Brett are still military and he can order them to do whatever he wants.
Not good. I think on this.
Yeah. Let me know what you come up with.
I will.
"Bekzi's still with us," I said aloud. "I don't think he'll leave until we do."
"Perhaps we should turn our attention to other things, then, since the President no longer desires our help," Ilya suggested.
"Honey, remember, you're still part of the Program, too," I pointed out. "He'll call you in with Jen and Brett-count on it."
"I dislike this greatly," Ilya growled.
"You'll have to be our eyes and ears on the inside, then," Matt and Auggie walked in, both looking grim and out of sorts. "Colonel Hunter just got a call from the President, asking for all three members of the Program, along with Dr. Farrell, to be sent to the White House."
"I quit," Ilya declared.
"You're in it for life," Auggie muttered. "Remember the agreement you signed? The only reason he isn't trying to order Cori around is because he knows he can't."
"What happened?" I asked. "Why is he suddenly running scared? He had ample protection. He sent them away." I flung out a hand.
"I think he's having control issues," Matt suggested. "He doesn't like what he can't control, and he couldn't control them-not really. All he could do was ask. He can't control Phillips-not openly. So he's employing what he does have control over."
"He's going to get people killed," I snapped. "You know it'll happen."
"We understand he isn't taking the long view on this," Auggie said. "If you'll recall, he and Phillips have bad blood between them, anyway. He was in Phillips' cabinet, remember? They disagreed on almost everything."
"So he's settling old debts by doing the worst thing possible, now? I don't believe this," I said.
"He feels threatened by Phillips. You understand Phillips-or the one posing as Phillips-will do everything in his power to take over the country. Granville wants to destroy Phillips using his own methods and on his own terms."
"He'll find himself on the losing end of this, mark my words," I snapped.
"Cori, we're not disagreeing with you," Auggie rubbed my shoulders.
"Then what do you suggest?" I asked. "Wait for the fallout and attempt to do damage control?"
"That may be all we can do at this point," Matt said.
"Fuck. Ilya," I turned to him.
"What is it, Cabbage?" he asked.
"You need a crash course in warlockery one-oh-one," I said. "Beginning with how to fold space so you and anyone you care about can get the hell away from a dangerous situation."
* * *
Ilya
By the end of the day, and before I was called to the White House, Corinne and Valegar taught me how to fold space. I also learned how to level power blasts, melt metal or plastic, burn anything combustible and Pull anything to me that I could focus my mind on.
Unlike my Larentii tutors, however, I could not control atoms. I couldn't create or destroy the same way they could. Whatever I blasted that afternoon, they rebuilt with barely a thought so I could destroy it again. An advanced spell might do the same, but I didn't have enough time to learn it and it wasn't the same as commanding atoms, anyway. It was merely reconstructing the bits and pieces left after an object's destruction.
Still, I hoped to learn it, someday.
"Time to go," Colonel Hunter walked warily into the basement where I practiced my new skills.
"What if they won't allow me to return here?" I asked.
"You can fold space now, remember?" Corinne said. "Send mindspeech. I'll let you know where we are. I doubt we stay here-there's no reason for it."
"All right. What about Brett and Jen? I understand the meeting is so late because the President was waiting for their flight to arrive."
"You can take them anywhere with you," Corinne said. "If they want to come."
"What about Katya and Sergei?"
"Bekzi will keep them safe," she said. "Count on it."
"All right," I said, straightening the cuffs on the suit I wore. I could tell by the feel that the fabric was expensive and of the highest quality. Corinne had dressed me like royalty. "I am ready to go," I nodded to Colonel Hunter. "We will get this over with quickly."
Chapter 13
Notes-Colonel Hunter
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," the President said. I wanted to laugh-these four didn't have a choice but to appear at the President's bidding.
Ilya wore no expression-he waited to see what the President's command was. Jen and Brett-they had no idea what was going on. Farrell sat nearby, undisguised anger marring his features.
"I received a note yesterday," the President said. "From former President Phillips. I've made copies for you to see," he said, pushing four sheets of paper toward Jen. Trust him to expect the woman to act as secretary and distribute the notes to the others. I also noted that I wasn't included as a recipient. I also wondered at his reason for withholding this information from Matt and me earlier.
It's because he didn't have it earlier, Cori's voice whispered in my ear. Once again, she was in the Oval Office, shielded from sight. The information she provided made me want to shiver. It's fabricated, she confirmed. I've already told Ilya, she added.
"This is a threat against you and your office," Brett set his copy of the note on Granville's desk.
"Yes it is," Granville agreed. "I am taking steps to eliminate that threat. This is where you come in. As members of the Program, your assignment is to assist in the search for evidence at Phillips' home in Virginia," he said. "It is my plan to wait until he is away. You and my special unit will get inside, take evidence, make it look like a break-in and get out. We need to know what his plans are, you understand."
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