by C. G. Hatton
“I should have.”
“Did Luka survive?”
There was a coldness there too. As she had said already, he knew she had a great fondness for these creatures, especially the ones so talented, the young ones that had experienced such hardship before finding their way to the fold.
“From what we know of the virus now,” he said, avoiding her question, “it seems to adapt to maximise the strengths of the host. Luka has always been sensitive – bold and reckless, yes – but always highly perceptive. And driven. Nikolai warned me that the child had the potential to be strong. Sebastian found out how strong.”
•
NG felt the power of the attack increase, unrelenting, until LC cried out, doubling over and clutching his chest. He felt the power surge, sending the kid flying back against the bulkhead with a sickening crunch.
“Come on, fight me,” he heard himself say in that mocking tone. “You think you’re so powerful, prove it.”
LC crumpled to the deck with a gasp.
He felt himself laugh, taunting, slowly squeezing closed the veins in LC’s beating heart, shutting down the airways of his lungs one cell at a time. The rush of power was overwhelming.
‘NG, what the fuck are you doing?’ the kid sent fiercely, bracing himself, flicking into survival mode and sending a shockwave of force back at him.
It hit like a physical punch.
NG felt the assault waver with the strength of LC’s resistance. He took the chance to fight, trying to wrestle back control from the overwhelming darkness.
It turned its full attention to him then, derision eating at the core of his very being. ‘You don’t even exist, ‘NG’. How can you possibly hope to confine me again?’
‘You’re not real.’
‘You’re the one that isn’t real, Nikolai.’
LC threw in an all out counterattack. NG felt his senses go spinning off in a dizzying whirl. He got control back suddenly, dropping to his knees as all his strength dissipated like fleeting mist, heart pounding as the full pain of LC’s attack hit home full strength.
He took it for a second then threw up a barrier, feeling the mocking laughter recede deep down inside.
Whatever he’d sparked in the kid was unrelenting, the shared pain escalating and threatening to break through.
NG looked up, trying to disengage gently from the conflict, resisting an instinctive urge to fight back. “LC, Luka, it’s me,” he said.
LC didn’t let up, eyes glaring, nerves still strung tight, pain still flaring. Eventually he decided it was safe and threw his mind into neutral, slumping back into the corner. “Who the fuck is Sebastian?” he muttered, voice ragged, wiping the blood from his face, a hand still hugged against his chest.
NG felt numb. He shut down all emotion and reached out a hand.
LC looked at him suspiciously before taking it, gearing himself to try to stand and failing.
“Don’t move,” NG said. It felt as if hours had passed. They were both exhausted. He could feel the agony pulsing through the kid’s mind and body, the torn muscles, burst blood vessels, heart labouring, lungs threatening to shut down. He used the contact to send a flood of healing energy into the field operative he’d just almost killed, managing to repair some of the worst of the damage he’d caused.
LC looked up finally, eyes still hooded and shot through with red, biting back a comment, trying and struggling to control his breathing.
“Can you stand?”
LC nodded and accepted the help to get up. He swayed slightly as he got to his feet, a trickle of blood running from his ear. The virus in his body was running riot trying to fix the physical damage but he knew how close it had been and he was thinking, my boss is fucking insane.
He flushed as he realised that NG had heard it.
That dark entity deep inside laughed. ‘It won’t be so easy to stop me next time.’
NG took a step back defensively. “Get out,” he said to LC more harshly than he intended, for the kid’s safety more than anything.
LC glared at him, bewildered, and started to back away, absently wiping away the blood trickling down his neck.
“Luka, get out,” NG said again, voice trembling. “Go to your quarters and stay there.”
He felt his senses start to spin again.
“Go!”
He heard the door slam.
‘You’ve blown it, Nikolai, face it. You’re history.’
No. He wasn’t giving in to insanity that easily. He gripped the edge of the table, head down, keeping his breathing slow and steady.
‘The next time I get near Anderton, I will kill him before you even know I have control.’
The door opened.
“Get out,” NG snapped without looking.
‘I could kill Evelyn now…’
Her hand reached to his shoulder and he spun, brushing her away. She recoiled as he glared, hand up in warning. “Leave me alone,” he yelled, anger overriding the fear of seeing her there.
“NG…?”
He backed away, crashing into the chair and turning to run straight into the Chief who had his hands up, expression dark. NG pushed him aside violently, stumbling into a run for the door.
He made it to the lift without killing anyone and sagged against the wall as the doors closed.
He’d almost killed LC. After everything that had happened, he’d almost killed the kid in the safety of his own office.
He punched his fist against the lift door until it opened onto the dark corridor that led onto the Man’s ship, pushing through the gap and breaking into a run.
Two of the elite guards were up ahead, standing shoulder to shoulder to stop him.
Before he even reached them, he shoved them out of his way with an explosive burst of power, armour clattering as they slammed against the bulkhead, and ran on unhindered to burst into the Man’s office, uninvited, unannounced and unwelcome.
He came to an abrupt stop, two steps into the dark chambers, chest heaving. It was almost pitch black in there, four massive figures in full armour standing motionless in his way. The heat was stifling, way hotter than he was used to, and a trickle of sweat ran down his back as he struggled to stay his anger.
The Man’s voice resonated through the darkness. “Let him through.”
As they stepped aside, a tiny orange ember flared and danced into flame.
The Man was sitting at his desk.
NG blinked, head bowed, heart pounding, no idea what to say.
“Leave us,” the Man said and the guards backed away, the door slamming shut after them.
NG swayed. He was breathing heavily, exhausted, as if he’d run the Straight three times in a row.
“Sit,” the Man said.
NG walked forward slowly, not even sure now he was here what he was going to do.
“I must admit,” the Man said, leaning forward to light another candle on his desk, “that I have been expecting this day for some time. I apologise, Nikolai. I should have anticipated that exposure to another telepath could precipitate this situation.”
NG raised his eyes slowly and considered the man in front of him. It felt like he knew nothing, as if reality was unravelling around him.
The Man met his gaze with dark, glinting eyes. “You have questions?”
Damn right he did. “Who the hell is Sebastian?”
There was a long silence. Time meant nothing here in these chambers but right then it extended into an eternity.
The Man was an unmoving statue, fingers entwined and lips pursed. Eventually he nodded. “I found Sebastian when he was five years old and locked in a cage, treated no better than an animal. Humans frighten easily and become savages when threatened. He was a child and his talents were beyond the comprehension of those around him. Even caged, he could still reach out and he had no idea of the harm he could inflict.”
NG stood, clenching his fists by his side, a dreadful queasiness pulling at his stomach. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Who the fucking hell
is Sebastian?”
The heat was almost unbearable.
The Man ignored his confrontational tone. “Sebastian was a complex child and he learned quickly how to torment his tormentors. I only regret that I was too late to save him.”
NG took a step forward, frustration spilling over, voice low and dark as he said, “That doesn’t answer my question. I just almost killed LC.”
“Sebastian almost killed him.”
The frustration exploded into an anger he’d never directed at the Man. “What the hell does that mean?” he yelled. “It was me in that fucking office. I almost stopped his heart for Christ’s sake.”
“It was Sebastian,” the Man said calmly, serenely.
NG hit the back of the chair in front of him. “I’m not Sebastian.”
“No, you are not,” the Man said, ignoring the violent outburst. “You are kind and empathic. You use your talents to help people. You are stronger than Sebastian in many ways and it is your strength of character, that determined selfless nature I created to harness your talent, that is the very basis of the future of all my plans.”
Breathing was difficult suddenly. The words, ‘I created’, resounded around his mind, nonsensical, like a bizarre dream sequence. “What?”
“I created you,” the Man said, an element of sadness in his tone that NG had never heard before. “I had to. I had no choice but to imprison Sebastian in his own body and give control to a new and distinct personality, you, Nikolai, so that you could utilise your potential to grow and develop.”
“What are you saying? I’m not real?” It was a realisation that dawned with a sickening clarity. He stepped back, feeling Sebastian stir maliciously, vying for control amidst a despair to give up that was almost overwhelming.
“Nonsense,” the Man said abruptly. “You are no more or less real than any other being. Sebastian could not survive in this turmoil of human society and he knows it. He toys with you now because he enjoys your discomfort and you do not realise the power you have. Really, Nikolai, do not disappoint me.”
It was dizzying. And he realised suddenly that they’d been here before.
The Man nodded, weary, regretting that it had come to this.
NG felt the probe as a gentle pressure. “No,” he shouted, backing away, instinctively throwing up a defensive shield, forcing the Man out of his mind with a violent deflection. “No! Stay out of my fucking head. And I swear, don’t ever do that again.”
“NG, sit down.”
“No!” He was trembling. “Don’t. Don’t call me that.” Thinking about it, the Man rarely used his name, preferring to use the stupid nickname the guild personnel had given him when he’d turned up as the new head of operations, when no one here knew him any more and he’d turned up out of nowhere – it fitted – all part of the game, the charade.
NG took another step away. “When?” he said aggressively, fighting the despair with anger. “When the fuck did you ‘create’ me? What am I? Five minutes old because you decided you didn’t like the previous owner of this body? You just made me up? Is my whole life a lie? Is everything a lie? Jesus Christ.”
The implications were too wrong, too twisted to be comprehended. He could feel the blood pounding through the veins in his head. “What about the fucking alien invasion? Is that all a lie as well?”
“Sit down,” the Man said, gently, no coercion, inviting him to be sane and calm.
He shook his head, standing and holding onto the rage because that was all he had. It’s a hell of a thing to be told you don’t exist.
The Man lit another candle. “You do exist and you are more powerful than you know. Your life as you remember it is your own, Nikolai. Everything you have experienced is real. Very real. You want to know when I created you?” He took a deep breath. “When Sebastian was five. He was already beyond saving, yet his potential was too valuable to me to destroy him. Your potential is too valuable to me.” He leaned forward and placed the queen from the chessboard in the centre of the desk.
NG stared at the Man, shadows dancing from the candlelight, anger tugging at every cell in his being. Nothing he’d ever known was real.
He wasn’t real so what the hell was the point in anything?
He glared at the carved figure. All the noble sacrifices he’d had to make, every decision, every hard fought battle, they were all meaningless.
A chill settled deep in his chest.
“I quit,” he said coldly and sent the queen flying off the desk, papers and artefacts scattering, every flame in the chamber extinguished, plunging the room into utter darkness.
For a heart beat the universe froze, then the Man’s voice was a deep murmur in that black void. “If you leave here now, I will not be able to protect you from Sebastian.”
He didn’t care and he walked out without looking back.
Chapter 21
“Nikolai was well within his rights to be angry. You have demanded a lot from him. Used him.” She stopped short of reminding him that she had warned him before, many times on many occasions, of pushing the boy too hard.
The Man picked up his goblet.
“This is not the first time he has confronted you,” she said. “Why so different now?”
He swirled it by the stem, watching the dark waves tumble and crash within. “Dealing with one instability is a mere distraction, two or three at the same time an inconvenience perhaps a frustration. Having so many at once, against an exponential increase in occurrences warranting our attention…? I have stopped him before because he was not ready. Because we had time. This time… I had no choice. After the encounter with Sebastian and Luka, he was stronger. Far stronger than I have ever seen him. The truth is that I could not stop him.”
•
NG stood in his quarters, heart still pounding, daring Sebastian to try something.
There wasn’t so much as a sneer.
‘What? Nothing? Was that the best you can do?’ he taunted. He threw a bag onto the bed. ‘You want your body back? Take it.’
Nothing.
He pulled a change of clothes out of his locker and stuffed them into the bag. He looked around. He didn’t own much and he wanted to take nothing else from here.
None of it mattered.
He wandered into the office and knocked back a fast whisky.
He’d take Ghost, he decided. It was the fastest ship they had, no AI and no one would dare stop him. No one would miss him. The battle with the Order would go on to the end of time. That was the nature of mankind. Greed and paranoia, power and fear. That’s all it boiled down to. The Man had created the Thieves’ Guild to maintain balance within the disparate factions of humanity, to nurture and nudge the human race to get it ready to face a supposed alien attack? Well, they could do it without him.
He downed another whisky, rooting around in the desk drawers for a couple of sets of ID and some credit sticks, no idea where he was going to go, throwing out handfuls of accumulated crap he’d forgotten he’d been hoarding.
He stared at the desk, strewn as it was with junk that meant nothing anymore. He didn’t want any of it, all the anger and frustration welling into an intense ball of fury that boiled over before he could contain it.
Everything flew off the desk in a flurry, boards and books, papers and reports, and a damned good bottle of whisky. He cursed and stood quickly, reaching out somehow and managing to stop the bottle in mid-air, concentrating to hold it there, everything else falling to the deck with a crash. He heard the knock on the door, heard it open, aware that Evelyn wasn’t waiting before coming straight in, and he lost it.
The bottle fell and smashed into pieces.
Shit.
He looked up into Evie’s eyes and froze.
She was trying to figure out what to say, finally saying softly, “NG, you need to come to Science.”
Looking down from the observation balcony into the controlled environment of the lab, the package was simply a small silver box, wisps of dry ice spiralling lazily
into the sealed atmosphere.
“Did you run the DNA,” he asked coldly.
“NG,’ Evelyn bit back the words that sprang to the tip of her tongue, thinking that she’d worked with the Assassins for eight years and they had never been thwarted in the completion of any contract she’d ever heard of. She was also thinking that she’d kill anyone who hurt him, or LC, or Hil. Or Devon. “We’re running it now. The results should be back soon.”
The finger that lay in the box had a tiny red ribbon tied in an immaculate bow around its knuckle joint, the manicured nail still perfect.
It was Devon’s. He didn’t need a closer look or any DNA results to confirm it.
“Where’s the note?”
He followed Evelyn to a small office, ignoring the stares of Science personnel as they passed. He felt numb.
The sheet of parchment paper was suspended within a clear casing.
He didn’t want to read it.
Science was a cold figure, standing there, arms folded, dour face softened somewhat. Devon wasn’t always popular but she had no enemies on the Alsatia. Science drew in a sharp breath and said quietly, “We can’t figure it out,” not liking to admit they’d been beaten by a simple encoded message.
NG stared at it, taking in the obscure scratchings and inked lines, the elaborate ancient markings, heart sinking and a resolution taking shape deep inside.
He turned and walked out.
Evelyn watched as he threw more stuff into his bag, tossing in grenades and boxes of ammunition. She’d tried to protest, tried to stop him but knew better than to push it. Instead, she stood there in silence and tried to figure out a way to persuade him that she needed to go too.
“No one else is going to die because of me,” he said, trying to decide between a thin stiletto and a hunting knife. He threw them both in.
“At least tell us what the note says,” she said eventually, voice strained, her own emotions pushed to breaking point. “I’ve known Devon longer than you have. I know the Assassins, NG.”
The confession was hard for her. He didn’t make it any easier, saying coldly, “I know.”