Cat gave me an injured look. “Won’t you at least hear my side of it?”
“I’ve heard plenty from Cindy already, thank you,” I said savagely. “I heard about all the wonderful things the Guardian Angels are going to do for the world.”
“It’s all true, Adrian,” said Cat. “I never wanted anything for myself. And I know that humans would be better off in our care.”
“I was human once, Cat,” I said evenly. “As were you. It is not our place to rule them.”
“And why not?” she asked, taking a step closer to my chair. “It would be a far better world for everyone than if we continued to let humans rule themselves. We could put an end to all of their ridiculous wars. We could unite the entire human race under one flag. Think about it, Adrian. A world without borders. We could end conflict for good.”
“You’re fifteen years old,” I scoffed. “What do you know about running a planet?”
“Not much,” admitted Cat. “But I do know what the biggest problems are. After I came into my power, Father took me on a trip around the world. I traveled with him for half a year. I saw babies starving to death in tiny dirt huts, and I dined under crystal chandeliers in the palaces of kings. Father showed me how unbalanced this world really is, and how close we all are to destruction.”
“It’s not for us to change that, Cat. You know it isn’t. You can’t force the world to change.”
“You’re wrong, Adrian. This is exactly what the Guardian Angels are all about.”
“Controlling the minds of billions of people?” I asked disgustedly.
“Of course not!” Cat said in a scandalized tone. “I couldn’t do that if I tried. Just the leaders, Adrian. The leaders of politics and the economy. We need to make them think of the masses first and their own personal gain second. If only they worked together, all of our problems would be solved. That is what we’re about. That is what the original Guardian Angels were created to do. To protect humanity from its own mistakes. It’s the only reason psionics exist.”
“What makes you think you’re so superior to them?”
“We are superior, Adrian,” argued Cat. “Look at the things we can do. The people need us. Even if they don’t want us, they still need us.”
“That is the excuse of every dictator the world has ever seen.”
Cat shook her head. “You’re blinded by your hate.”
“I have reason to hate!” I shot back. “So should you. Our parents–”
“Our parents were casualties of war!” cried Cat. “Of a pointless, stupid war that Father and I have just ended once and for all! And now we can end all the other stupid wars. We can save billions of lives!”
“You honestly think that you’re doing this planet a favor? You think injustice and inequality justify what you’ve been doing?”
“And what have you been doing, Adrian?! Look at you! You’re nothing but a killer! I’m offering a chance for peace! I’m trying to make a world where people can stop butchering each other over their petty differences! Why can’t you see that?!”
“All I see is the difference between freedom and slavery. That is not a petty difference, Cat!”
Cat looked away, saying quietly, “What’s so great about freedom, Adrian? What about the freedom to live without fear of being attacked in the middle of the night? What about the freedom to live with the people you love? Our parents were murdered by the Guardians because they wanted me so badly that they didn’t care what happened to anyone else. They wanted a master controller. They wanted to do exactly the same thing I’m doing.”
I sighed. It was useless to try to convince her that our parents had been killed by a member of the Seraphim. It didn’t matter who had killed them anymore. Cat and I were just talking in circles.
Cat knelt in front of my chair and grasped my hands. “You and me, Adrian, we both wanted the same thing. We still do.”
“I doubt that, Catherine Divine,” I replied coldly, “because I wanted you dead. I still want you dead.”
“Why do you say such horrible things?” Cat asked in a hurt tone. “We both want peace.”
“There will be no peace as long as the world is run by a master controller. There will be no equality. No justice. No end of suffering.”
“I know it won’t be perfect,” whispered Cat, “but it will be better.”
“I’m sorry that you think so.”
“I think Father is right,” Cat said sadly, standing up. “This really is the only way I can save you.” Cat carefully placed her right hand on the top of my head. “Please don’t fight me. It could damage your mind if you do.”
I smiled grimly. “I’m glad that we got to talk before you converted me, Cat,” I told her. “I wanted to make sure that I hadn’t just imagined what you are. Now I really have no regrets.”
And with one last deep breath, I said as loudly and as clearly as I could, “Let there be light!”
Chapter 19: The Loss of Silence
Cat took a step back and stared at me. I stared back.
Nothing happened.
“Let there be light!” I shouted again. “Let there be light! Let there be light!”
I looked down at my stomach. I knew the bomb was still inside me. Why didn’t it work? It had to work!
“Let there be light!” I hollered furiously.
But Cat and I were both still alive, engulfed in a deafening silence.
“Adrian…” said Cat.
I looked up at her. Tears were welling in her eyes.
Suddenly Cat reached forward and slapped me across the face. Then again, and again.
“I trusted you, Adrian!” she wailed. “I promised Father you’d never do it! But he was right! You really are nothing but a murderer!”
Randal entered the room and, with a frown in my direction, strode up to Cat.
Cat turned and buried her face in his chest, her whole body shaking as she cried loudly, “He said the words, Father! He tried to kill me! Oh, Father, he tried to kill me!”
I finally understood. The Seraphim had removed the bomb in my sleep, disarmed it, and put it back into my body so that I wouldn’t know. Randal had been putting me to a sick little test, and in Cat’s eyes, I had failed her.
And far more importantly, I had failed myself. The war really was over now.
“I’m so sorry, Cathy,” said Randal, putting his arms around my sister. “I tried to warn you, dear. This is what the Guardians do to their followers. They don’t even need a master to do it. They will sacrifice anything, even their own families, to bring anarchy to this world. But it is not your brother’s fault. He has been brainwashed to believe that we are evil.”
I glared furiously at Randal Divine. He gave me a wry smile and said, “I so wanted my daughter to be right this time.”
Then, still holding Cat, he whispered to her, “You can still save him. You can turn him around. You can release him from the evil that the Guardians have poisoned him with.”
“I can’t,” Cat said hoarsely. “He’ll resist. He won’t accept conversion like this. I know it.”
“Then let us give him some time to come to his senses,” suggested Randal. “That usually works.”
“Please, Father!” cried Cat. “Please don’t send him to the Department of Allegiance!”
“Of course not, dear,” Randal said soothingly. “We will let him live with Ms. Gifford right here in Lumina Primus. Give him time, dear Cathy. As long as it takes. He’ll come around.”
“I love you, Father,” said Cat, hugging him tightly.
“I love you too, dear,” said Randal. “Come now.”
Randal escorted Cat out of the room.
Then he came back alone.
His eyes cold and fierce, he slowly walked up to me, drawing a small white remote control from his pocket as he did.
“This is for breaking my daughter’s heart,” he said, pushing a few buttons.
The powerful electric surge from my control bands jolted my body, but I refused
to scream.
Randal shocked me again as he said, “When you are ready to accept your inevitable fate, Adrian Howell, you may ask Cathy for her forgiveness, and then you may ask her again for conversion.”
He cuffed me across the face once, and then left.
I sat alone, lost in the shame of my failure.
The guards didn’t return for a long time. When they finally did, they were accompanied by a surgeon and a healer.
They escorted me to a nearby room that had a bed, and there they removed my bomb. Unlike the Slayers, the Angels were kind enough to give me a localized anesthetic before cutting me open, and the healer closed up the wound before any pain returned. The whole operation took just fifteen minutes.
But the guards didn’t take me back up to the penthouse just yet. They returned me to the interrogation room, strapped me back into the chair and left me there. They didn’t tell me why.
After a while, the door opened, and Cat came in by herself. Her eyes were still red from crying.
“Father and I are leaving Lumina tonight,” she informed me.
“So go,” I said, shrugging.
“When the time comes, we’ll be a family again,” said Cat, her voice trembling. “I’m going to fix you, just like I’m going to fix the rest of the world.”
I shrugged again. “Keep telling yourself that, Catherine.”
“But first I want to know why,” said Cat. “You were going to die too. You were going to die in this room with me. How could you do something like this?”
“Our parents died because of people like you,” I replied. Looking away, I added quietly, “And because of people like me.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I have nothing more to say to you about this,” I said, shaking my head. “You won, Cat. That should be enough.”
“You have something of mine,” Cat said evenly, walking up to me. “I want it back now.”
My pendant was still tucked under my sweatshirt, but Cat pulled it up by its leather cord.
She looked at the bloodstone unicorn in surprise. “What happened to my lucky pendant, Adrian?” she asked.
“I lost it,” I told her.
“And what’s this?” she asked innocently. “A replacement?”
“It belonged to my sister.”
“Your sister?” repeated Cat, staring at me.
I nodded. “My sister. The one I was trying to save.”
Suddenly Cat’s eyes burned with rage. She yanked hard on the pendant until the leather cord snapped. “Now it belongs to your real sister!” she shouted, holding the stone tightly in her fist. “Or maybe in the garbage!”
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned and ran out.
Another hour or so passed. I started wondering if I had been forgotten. Perhaps I would be left here to rot, which, under the circumstances, wasn’t such a terrible prospect. But then the door opened again and a suited Seraph Knight entered.
“Escorting prisoners isn’t a part of my regular duties,” the Seraph said with a smile, “but I wanted an excuse to see you.”
“You are supposed to be dead,” I said, trying hard to hide my surprise.
“I was dead,” said Terry. “For a while, anyway. They shot me four times, and Wood-claw doesn’t have a healer, you know.”
“I heard that you killed Harding for turning Angel,” I said with a grin. “Nice.”
“I’ve done many things I regret,” replied Terry. “Even so, my new master has given me the opportunity to repent and make amends.”
“If you want to make amends, perhaps you could kindly break my neck right here?” I suggested. “Save someone the trouble of stopping another attempt on your master’s life.”
“I heard about the bomb, Adrian.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And?”
“I think it was a very good plan,” said Terry. “An ingenious device.”
“Compliments of the God-slayers,” I informed her.
Terry smiled. “So you’ve finally learned to do all that you have to. I was very impressed with you. Horrified, of course, but very impressed.”
“You taught me well, Terry,” I said. “But Alia taught me last.”
Terry nodded solemnly. “I always knew that Alia had more guts than me. I never thought you did too.”
Terry reached down and undid my restraints. I carefully stood up. Even if the control bands weren’t still draining me, there was no point in trying to fight her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to kill me.
“They allowed me into the High Seraphim,” Terry told me with a touch of pride in her voice. “It’s the first time any former Guardian Knight made the High Seraphim. I’m now a member of your sister’s personal guard.” She gave me a wink, adding, “And King Divine’s.”
“You must be very pleased,” I said evenly.
“I am, Adrian,” replied Terry. “I’m currently assigned to the Royal Gate. It’s a great honor for someone as unworthy as me.”
I gave her a wry smile. “I’m sure you’ll make an excellent security guard, Teresa.”
Terry sighed and said in an understanding tone, “I know where you’re coming from, Adrian. You really have to experience this to fully appreciate it.”
“Conversion?”
“It’s really something,” she said with a dreamy expression that made me want to scream. “You can’t know until you actually feel it. Conversion isn’t mind control at all. It’s mind release. It’s complete freedom from all the silly, trivial things we cling to.”
“Like the memory of your brother?” I asked. “The one they sent back to you in installments?”
“Gabriel was a casualty of war,” said Terry. “A war that is finally coming to an end after seven hundred years. He would be happy if he was alive today.”
“Alia’s dead too,” I told her.
“Oh,” said Terry, looking away. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Adrian.”
“I’m sure you are,” I said disgustedly. “Cindy was sorry too. But I guess Alia’s just another casualty of war, right? Just like James. And Laila.”
“They were important to me too,” said Terry. “I really am sorry.”
“Conversion must be something real special, Terry. I can’t wait.”
Terry ignored my sarcasm. “Once you’re on our side, I’ll try to get you into the High Seraphim. We can be a team again.”
Terry escorted me out of the room, back to the elevator and up to the penthouse.
Cindy had already known that Terry was alive and working for the High Seraphim. They said their goodbyes in the living room.
“Keep an eye on our true master for me, Terry,” said Cindy. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Make sure Adrian stays out of trouble,” said Terry.
Cindy laughed. “I’ve been trying to do that for years. But maybe this time I’ll succeed.” After giving Terry a quick hug, she added, “I know work comes first, Terry, but come and visit whenever you can. You are always welcome here.”
Before she left, Terry said to me, “I’ll be waiting for you at the Royal Gate, Half-head.”
I didn’t reply.
Once Terry was gone, Cindy gave me a sympathetic look, saying gently, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted, Adrian. But I promise you’ll find a new life here.”
I started my new life in silence. I refused to say a word to Cindy, or eat or drink in her presence. For the most part, I stayed in my room, away from my converted adoptive mother and her live-in security. Cindy had four bodyguards who lived out of Terry’s old room, working in pairs through two shifts. I didn’t bother learning their names. I had nothing to say to them either.
My control bands had been replaced with a solid steel ring that was locked around my right ankle. It couldn’t electrocute me, but it kept me drained all day and all night. This wasn’t just a security measure. The idea was that prolonged draining weakened the spirit.
Mark Parnell visited me on my third day back. He had also b
een converted, and I refused to speak with him. He didn’t visit again.
I was told that I would remain under house arrest until I agreed to freely accept conversion or until Cindy deemed me ready. I wasn’t about to be broken that easily, but at the same time, I wasn’t entirely sure why I was resisting anymore.
Everything we had done since returning from the Historian’s mountain had failed. We never found the Royal Gate. James and Alia were gone. Terry was as good as a loss. Candace, Ed Regis and the others, even if they were still free, would soon be caught or killed. And my final, desperate attempt to end this war, and all the pain that I had gone through to finally accept Alia’s death and my own… all of it had been for nothing. I felt like my entire existence had been completely emptied. Hollowed out. Lost.
I sat in my room all day, silently meditating. I hardly ever opened my eyes.
I remembered asking Cindy, years ago, what conversion really felt like. She had told me that it was like being in love, and that conversion gave meaning to life. But I had always thought of conversion as something far less wholesome. More like a drug addiction.
Cat had described our parents as being “casualties of war,” and Terry had said the exact same thing about her brother. That was the horrible thing about conversion: It diminished your capacity for caring about anyone other than your beloved master. That was why converts could sacrifice themselves and their loved ones so easily, writing them off as casualties of war. Conversion lessened the pain of their losses.
So I certainly believed Cindy when she told me that I would see things differently once I was converted. But that was the whole point: I didn’t want to see things differently. I didn’t want a release from my pain. I needed my pain. It was all that I had left. I couldn’t let the Angels take that too.
Cindy let me live in peace, either because she didn’t care or because she understood my need for silence. Either way, I was grateful.
But then one day, nearly a week into my stay, when Cindy delivered my lunch to my room as she always did, I broke my silence for a very brief moment.
“This was Alia’s,” I said, fingering the bloodstone unicorn that Cindy had placed on the corner of my tray.
“I know,” said Cindy. “I found it lying on the floor in the gathering place a few days ago. I thought you’d like to have it back.”
Guardian Angel (Psionic Pentalogy Book 5) Page 32