by Loren Walker
But she was too tempted, the more access she had, the more Theron shared, the more accommodating the guards were, the deeper she drew into the secrets of Osha, the NINE, and the Savas.
It’s the smart approach. It’s not a betrayal. My father would not be disappointed. He knows I’m alive. He knows to keep his distance.
One more search. One day won’t make a difference.
V.
“You’re an Insynn, I hear. Predictor of the future, through skin-to-skin contact.”
Anandi stared at the pixels, at Ganasan's stoic face, body seated in a chair, with Theron sitting across from him. She'd found the cache of videos unexpectedly, swimming through the network, deeply hidden. She paused the first video, got to her feet, checking for any sounds of someone approaching, any clicks, any surveillance. There was nothing. So Anandi eased back into her seat and resumed the video.
“When did it start?" Theron continued. "Has it changed since? Is it the only NINE skill you possess?”
No response.
Theron leaned back in his chair. "You’re aware that you have an implant in the back of your head?”
Ganasan’s face twitched.
That seemed to satisfy Theron, by the change of tone in his voice. "You all have one. CaLarca, too. I know where it is, I know how to extract it, and still keep you alive to see your family. I also know its purpose. Do you?"
Ganasan remained silent.
Theron tapped on the edge of the chair. "It’s the Insynn trait that is puzzling me. It’s a passive skill, really. It can harm through foreknowledge, and it can bring up memories, and futures, but it can’t physically maim, or control, or kill. The other three skills, those are easy to hate, and fear. But Insynn, I’m stuck over.
"Precognition has its benefits, of course," Theron added. "But is it a danger? Can it harm? That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Or is it only harming the Insynn himself? Some kind of self-torture?" He laughed a little. "I understand that well enough."
Then his amber eyes fixed on Ganasan. "Of course, this is the extrasensory skill I developed."
Finally, Ganasan spoke. His voice was low, and full of disbelief. "You’re an Insynn."
Theron sighed. "It seems that I am."
"But you’re developing anti-NINE technology," Ganasan growled. "And holding me and my family because we’re NINE. How can you justify this?"
"I don’t need to justify anything," Theron said. "I’m Theron Sava."
"That name means nothing to me."
"It should," Theron said. "And it will. The name means everything. It opens doors, it opens pockets, it creates bridges. And most of the time, it provides answers. But not when it comes to you and your kind. So tell me: are you just an Insynn, or do you have more hidden talents?"
"You can’t tell on your own?" Ganasan shot back.
"I’ve run tests, " Theron said. "I’ve opened up skulls. But I have so many questions. I wonder, for instance: if you have one skill, is it inevitable that you develop another, and another, and another? How can you get rid of it, altogether? Is it like a tumor, something that can be surgically removed? Is it something you have to generate within, to eradicate the bad cells? Can it be removed by cutting synapses in the brain?"
Theron leaned forward in his seat, his hands between his knees. "You’re the only other Insynn I’ve met, so I would like to scan your brain. Test your resilience. I want to understand Insynn to its roots. If you’ll permit me to do so, I’ll let you rejoin your family."
"And then what?" Ganasan shot back. "We remain hostages, but as a trio?"
"You’re not hostages," Theron said. "I’m not seeking a bounty, nor a reward. You’re helping to make Osha a better place.”
The audio cut out, and the file ended.
Dumbfounded, Anandi played it again, listening to the conversation, the threat of what was to come. Then she closed the file with a click.
She had been tracking the production of the NINE technology. Official production was scheduled to start in three days, with shipping available within the week to every corner of Osha. The last step was to make the NINE public, and create the buyer’s market for such items. Theron wouldn’t be asking for her help for much longer; it would be a command, and then what would she do?
She had to get through to Renzo about how wrong this all was. Public knowledge wasn't the answer. True, maybe those inventions could be used by special forces or patrol, but by the public? That would be a disaster; people against people, NINE against mortal. It could be a new kind of civil war, if it was allowed to develop.
And Anandi couldn’t stay there, knowing that CaLarca and her family were imprisoned. It wasn’t right, no matter her personal thoughts on the woman. She couldn’t condone that, not for any cause.
She had to shut this whole operation down.
But how to do it?
Anandi leaned back in her chair, rocking in a nervous rhythm. CaLarca’s cell was guarded and rigged with anti-NINE technology. Even if she distracted the guards, got the door unlocked, and disabled the technology, even if CaLarca and her family got to the front door, what then? Where would they go? What about the little boy? Would the guards shoot them if they ran?
How did Phaira do this, make these kinds of decisions? She thought back to her father, kidnapped so long ago. How easy it was to pass on the information to Phaira, knowing that the woman could handle the physical danger of saving him, and Anandi had to do nothing but wait for results. That’s what she had done with the Hitodama; sat back and waited for everyone else to provide her with information and results.
With a hard exhale, Anandi let her feet hit the floor with a thump.
No more hiding. No more hiding behind screens and her father and Phaira. For once, Anandi Ajyo would step out into the light and declare her position.
Anandi had been noting patterns. Theron left the compound from late morning until early evening. The abandoned school was mostly quiet during the day, save for the faint sounds from the auditorium. There were guards, but when Theron left each day, the structure grew lax, the men so bored after such little activity. Still, they liked her. Maybe they would indulge her. And Renzo tended to work through the night, but went to his room after lunch for an hour, with that damned REM injector.
That was the time to move, that pocket.
She had to try.
* * *
When Renzo was enclosed in his quarters, Anandi made her move down the corridors, heart thumping so loud she thought her ears might explode. A Sava stood guard by CaLarca’s cell, leaning against the wall, scratching at his jaw and yawning. Anandi noted the golden guns in his holster, trying to remember the Sava’s first name before she spoke.
“Hi,” she twinkled, trying to recall some of her old personality. “How are you? Pretty boring around here, huh?”
“You know I can’t answer that honestly,” the Sava said, smiling at her. “Where you headed?
Anandi jerked a thumb in the direction of the cell. “Looking to speak to the one in there. I think she might talk to me if Theron isn't around. You know? Woman to woman?"
The Sava’s smile faded. "I'm not sure that's a great idea. The last time…”
“The last time, Theron interfered,” Anandi reminded him.
Then she forced herself to smile. "Don’t you want to get out of here? I sure do. So, if I get the intel we need, I'll make sure that you get the credit. Deal? You want Theron’s favor, as do I.”
The Sava hedged, eyes darting to the side.
“Five minutes. That’s all I need, I promise. I’ve got a HALO. I’ll be fine."
Was this really going to work?
“Lift your arms.” The Sava’s tone was sympathetic. “I have to check you for weapons.”
Anandi did as told, allowing the man to pat her down. Luckily, he didn’t go all the way down the back of her boot, where Theron’s encrypted Lissome was stashed. Still, she made her body cowed, even shorter than it already was. It seemed to work. She was so tiny,
she wasn’t a threat without weapons, the Sava appeared to surmise, as he opened the door to the cell, and held up five fingers.
Anandi nodded and slipped inside.
She instantly recognized the beard and the hollow cheeks of the man in the corner. In response to her sudden entry, Ganasan scrambled to his hands and knees, one arm outstretched to protect his family. Behind him, CaLarca didn't seem to register Anandi’s presence, one hand on the small of her son's back, rubbing as he slept. The drift of her fingers, back and forth, was hypnotizing.
What was Ganasan doing in there?
He must be cooperating, she realized with a sinking stomach. Am I already too late?
“What do you want?” Ganasan spat at her.
He hasn’t seen me, she remembered. He doesn’t know who I am, or what I’m here to do.
“I’m a friend,” she told him, hands splayed to show they were empty.
Then Anandi unfastened the HALO from the back of her head, showing the trio the half-circle of silver. Her hands trembled as she lowered the HALO to the floor.
Please don't hurt me, she couldn't help but think as she stood upright. Please don't go into my head.
"I'm a friend," she repeated.
Then she turned from Ganasan, and peered at the walls of the cell, listening to their quiet hum. It was impressive, what Theron had come up with to neutralize their abilities, similar to the signal put out by the HALO, but cell-wide.
"If this were disabled," Anandi asked under her breath. "What could you do?"
She glanced back at the family, and she circled her finger around her head "What could you do?" she repeated.
"We don't need your help," CaLarca's voice was cold.
"Larca," Ganasan started, but the green-haired woman shot him a look, and he fell silent.
"What are you doing here, Anandi?” CaLarca's black eyes were hard and unblinking, even as her voice remained a whisper. "Have you been watching, remotely, as always?"
That stung. She recalled the stories she'd heard about CaLarca, the bitterness, the distrust. How she called the Arazura, seeking Renzo, and the woman had lied to her, knowing that she'd left him, Cohen and Phaira for dead. And now Renzo was her jailer. Anandi didn't know who to trust.
But she knew what was right.
And it wasn't keeping these three in prison, no matter who they were or what they might do.
Ignoring the family, Anandi searched for the source of the current, scanning the walls and wires. Then placing her ear an inch from the current, she followed the sound of the hum.
“Don’t do it,” Ganasan hissed at her. “Don’t touch anything. You’ll get us all separated again.”
“I can do this,” Anandi insisted, licking a finger and tracing the edge of the current, a millimeter apart, feeling the heat. “Just let me - ”
Ganasan’s hand was hot around her arm.
Gasping, Anandi jerked away. Her arm was burning, as if he had branded her.
She covered it with her hand as Ganansan had collapsed with a moan.
Then the building shuddered, and Anandi stumbled.
VI.
Footsteps, and bodies clambering, and what sounded like thunder rippled through the abandoned school.
Ganasan lifted his head. “Disable this tech,” he hissed at Anandi. “Disable it now!”
Then he turned to grip CaLarca by the shoulder, who stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. “You can do this. You’re strong enough, I know it.”
A final BOOM resonated through the building. Cracks of sunlight were suddenly visible. Voices were shouting, over the sound of gunfire.
Trembling, Anandi tried to calm her thoughts and listened, searching for the source of the current. Shut it down, her mind repeated, shut it down. Flick, yank, bypass, interrupt, short out. Something!
There, hidden behind a pipe, barely visible: a smooth mechanism the same color of the wall. Beautiful circuitry, she couldn’t help but notice as she popped it open, feeling the trace of an electric shock as she dug into the mechanism, so neatly done, as she worked to bypass the securities and disable the power. The alarm sounded as soon as she started, but she could barely hear it over the sound of gunfire.
Ganasan had taken the now-squalling Bennet in his arms and stood behind CaLarca. Her feet were planted wide on the floor, fists balled, her eyes flickering between the door and Anandi.
The humming ceased, what little of it could be heard over the raucous fight outside.
In front of her, CaLarca flexed her fingers. The heat in the room started to rise.
To Anandi’s shock, the shape of a knife formed in CaLarca’s hand: a pearl-handled one, materializing out of nowhere.
The air in the cell shifted.
The knife was suddenly airborne, flung at the opening door.
It froze in place, shuddering, six inches from the face of Bianco Sava.
Then the knife clattered to the floor. The sound was so much louder than Anandi expected.
CaLarca leapt at the man, a loud cry emanating from her mouth. Her cry turned into a wail of pain, as she clutched the back of her head, her body twisting to the ground.
Bianco gazed down at her with curious, cold eyes.
Then Ganasan was in front of Anandi, snatching up the knife from the floor, but he, too, was crippled with pain, his hand clasping the back of his head.
As his parents writhed, the little boy screamed on the floor. Anandi couldn’t move, could barely breathe. She had disabled everything, CaLarca and Ganasan could use their NINE powers. How could they be defeated so easily?
I shouldn’t have deactivated the cell, her mind screamed. I could trigger it again, somehow. Somehow?
There was another odd shift in the air, like a ripple of a silent wave.
And CaLarca, Ganasan and the baby tipped to the side, like toys. Anandi cried out, her hands to her mouth, as the little boy’s head bounced off the floor. His eyes were closed, his mouth agape, and he was breathing, though there was a hint of blood around his nostrils. His parents breathed too, unconscious.
In the doorway, Bianco had fallen too, but only one knee. His broad back heaved.
Then his gaze lifted, and his gold eyes met Anandi’s.
She saw black spots. She was going to faint.
But she couldn’t bend her knees to sink to the floor.
Her throat closed up. A thin whistling sound came from her mouth.
Pressure in her head, so great, as if she were underwater.
Then her right foot moved, and then her left.
And Anandi wanted to scream, but she physically couldn’t. She couldn’t control her body from sliding and slumping out of the cell, past Bianco, past the fallen guard, to where Renzo was hiding around the corner. Her hand shot out and snatched the Disruptor Coin from his hot grip. With the Coin coiled in her fist, Anandi hit Renzo, over and over again in the face. He tried to push her back, but she was so suddenly strong, and her blows relentless. Her knuckles split. Tears streamed down her face. When Renzo stumbled, she kicked out his prosthetic from under him, and he fell and hit his head on the floor.
Then Anandi’s back hit the wall with a slam, and suddenly she could move independently again, her body shaking with relief and terror. Anandi tried to take in a deep breath but her lungs were still jerking, protesting, and she had to hold onto the wall to stay upright.
A groan, to her right, a man’s voice. Renzo? No, he was still on the ground, his muddy outline she could make out through the swelling of hot tears. She turned her head to the right, thankful that she could do, and squinted.
A shadow writhed in the near-darkness. Who was that?
She heard pounding footsteps, over the roar in her ears. Bodies ran past her and leapt on the shadow. There were grunts, and curse words uttered, the smack and groan of pain.
Then the shadow drew closer, flanked on either side by the men in white. It was Theron, mouth bloodied, his face wrenched with pain, not even trying to fight back. He was shuddering. Was he
having a seizure? No, his eyes were focused, not rolled back. But he was weak, and dazed.
Her brain turned in a slow crank. The Disruptor Coin had a limited range, and it affected those with NINE abilities. Theron was affected, of course he was.
Anandi's thoughts turned to ash, and her terror took over as Bianco came into view, his face a sheen of sweat, breathing heavily, but on his feet. He was holding someone's hand, someone smaller, cowed and shivering behind him, who clung with two hands to Bianco's one. The man in the middle cell, she realized with a jerk: Voss, whatever his name was. Why was Bianco holding his hand?
Bianco released Voss's hand. Renzo was awake, groaning on the ground, his prosthetic leg showing at the edge of his trousers. The HALO glimmered in the low light, looped along the back of Renzo’s head. Bianco bent over, and removed Renzo's HALO roughly, taking some pieces of blond hair in the process. Then he handed it back to Voss, who took it with trembling hands.
Then Bianco turned to Anandi, and she wanted to scream; she wanted to claw through the wall instead of looking into Bianco’s eyes. He held out a hand, palm turned up.
The Coin. She still had it clenched in her fist.
Anandi threw it at him and hid her eyes with her hands.
His heavy footsteps moved away. Anandi peered through her fingers. Bianco was striding past Theron, followed closely by Voss. Neither even looked at the man on his knees, arms wrenched painfully behind his back by the two men in white. Bianco and Voss walked to the end of the hallway, twenty feet away, and turned to face the double-door opening of the research and development center.
He locked eyes with Voss and held out his hand. Voss removed the beaded bracelet he wore, and handed it over, their fingers brushing. There was electricity in the air between the two older men; even Anandi could feel it.
Bianco unfastened the bracelet and slipped one of the black beads free.
Only then he spoke: “Bring him here.”
The men dragged Theron down the hallway on his knees. Theron didn’t even attempt to escape; his feet splayed behind him, his shoulders slack from effort.