No Turning Back

by Sharon T. Rose

PART, the page shouted up at them. Mosin groaned as he read it, prompting Hae to rub his shoulder comfortingly.

  "But this isn't the most notable thing," Lyshunda continued, tracing her finger down the page. "We should all be accustomed to their inflammatory accusations by now. What's truly interesting is how fair this article is. Look here, he says, ‘… on-lookers could clearly see the strain this courageous Woman took upon herself in order to not merely halt the Depredations of another violent Sukker but to capture it and keep the Population safe from its rampage. Fulenthen Sonelion was obviously exhausted by her Long Battle and yet purposefully took time before leaving to pay her respects to Immett Foggler, the Sukker's Victim.

  "Fulenthen Sonelion stated that she remembers every Man, Woman, and Child whom she has ever assisted to free from the Control of the Sukkers. Clearly these are not the words or actions of a Person who considers herself superior to the average working Man, as some rabble-rousers claim. This most controversial of the Descendants, with her ability to track down Sukkers and safely remove them from their Victims, gives us all hope for a Future without the fear of losing our Humanity to the Sukkers.'"

  "Sounds like just another Worshiper to me," Clatyn grunted.

  "I'm not certain of that, Clatyn," Tad mused, rubbing his chin. "If he is a Worshiper, he's the most self-restrained one I've ever heard. They usually rave about us more than this, and always mention something about how much better we are than they. This fellow writes as though he thinks we're all equals in the fight. Yes, he allows our powers, but otherwise ..."

  "He's the one from the press conference," Mosin muttered darkly. "The first one Sylenn cleansed. He has a fixation with her."

  "If he does have a fixation, Mosin," Satherlin replied, "then, as Tad said, he's the most self-restrained man in the world. News-paper pressmen aren't precisely known for restraint, after all. What makes this fellow different, I wonder? As I read this, he's given Sylenn (and us) a fair treatment, recounted the events with a minimum of exaggeration, and made us seem reasonable people who still care about the people we're trying to protect."

  "I thought the same, and this isn't the first time he's written like this," Lyshunda added eagerly. "I kept watch on him after Sylenn and the Hunter cleansed him to make certain he was well, even before you asked us to, Satherlin. So I've read many of his articles, both before and after. Except for the time the Sukker had him, he's always been even-handed in how he reports things, which is probably why he hasn't had a front-page until today. He's not like any other news-paper writer I've ever read before. He seems to care about telling the truth."

  Clatyn snorted loudly. "Journalists all claim to tell the truth, Lysha! That's how they sell their rags; no-one would buy them if they called it all lies."

  "Well, this one uses far fewer lies than any other, alright?" Lyshunda snapped. She turned back to Satherlin. "I thought we might want to investigate this fellow further. We could certainly use a voice in the press that at least tries to tell the truth. What if we gave him special interviews, so that the real story could be heard? If we had everything written up to give to the news-papers, then they'd have to print it correctly, and people would know what's really going on, not what some idiot with an agenda spits out!"

  Tad sighed. "Lyshunda, just because we give them a page with words on it doesn't mean they're going to print exactly that. Clat's right; they want to make money, and sensationalized refugo sells far better than the truth does."

  "But if we give all of them the same page and they start printing it wrong, they'll contradict one another, and then they'll have to prove that they were right, which means pulling out the original information that we gave them. And we'll have those originals, too, so we can prove what we said. If they continue to spew their vitriol on us, then they will dig their own graves!" She looked around, triumphant.

  "The idea does have some merit," Satherlin allowed. "But I will advise caution against false hopes, Lyshunda. All we can do is try to get the right information out there; what others do with it has always been beyond our control, and it always will be. I will agree that having someone on hand to write up what needs to be said would be useful. So, we'll have to get someone to look into him. Niel, you still have your contacts in Suljem who could check his public records?"

  Niel wiped the crumbs from his chin as he replied. "Sure do; most of my old classmates are practicing advocates with access to the Records House! And I even know some street urchins who would follow him for a while for a few coppers. Nobody ever pays attention to the homeless, after all."

  Mosin growled something under his breath.

  "What was that, Mosin? I didn't quite catch it." Satherlin craned around the wing of his chair to look at the younger man.

  "Nothing," Mosin grumbled.

  "I heard you mention Graig; if it's something we should know about, then tell us."

  Mosin sighed angrily. "I said that Graig notices the homeless."

  "That's right!" Konyetta exclaimed, sitting up from her sprawl on one of the settees. "That's how he met Sylenn, right, Mosin?"

  Mosin's glare nearly left scorch marks in the air.

  "Wait, he's met Sylenn? As Sylenn?" Lyshunda looked sternly from Mosin to Konyetta. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

  "Goodness, Lyshunda, I didn't realize that we had to mention every interaction we have with outside people," Konyetta apologized. "Sylenn only mentioned it to me in passing, and I didn't think to say anything about it."

  Satherlin turned back to Mosin. "And you knew about this because ...?"

  "They were talking that one night last year when she stayed out too late in Suljem. When I went looking for her to tell her she should have checked in, I found them chatting away in some little Cafe in the theater district." Was it possible that Mosin's scowl could get any deeper?

  "I see," Satherlin replied, settling back into his chair. "Now I recall Sylenn mentioning something about that at the time, but it was, as Konyetta said, in passing. So, Niel, you get your contacts to investigate Graig, see if he's the sort of fellow we can trust with our secrets. Lyshunda, I'd like to see all the papers of Graig's that you've collected. When Kyysha's back and rested, I'd like her to have a look at them with us; her time studying journalism could be useful."

  The door opened, revealing Twanne and a large cart of food and drink.

  "Thanks, Twanne!" Niel exclaimed, diving on the cart before she'd gotten it through the door.

  "Yes, thank you, Twanne," Satherlin echoed, choosing to remain seated as Niel picked through the platters and bowls. "I'm surprised to see you; is Sylenn not awake yet?"

  "No, poor thing is still sleeping like a brick," the young woman replied, giving up on moving the cart until Niel was done. "I woke her up long enough to pour some soup down her, but I doubt she'll remember it. She just drank it down and then flopped back on her pillow before I could so much as wipe her chin. Poor thing. What little she was able to tell me when she got back was that it had been a tiring fight, but I didn't think it would have her sleep for four days."

  "It was a very old Gontozenel," Sylenn mumbled as she shuffled through the door. Mosin was at her side in an instant, wordlessly guiding her to a couch; she was still tired enough to allow him to. Konyetta shouldered Niel aside to fix a plate and cup for Sylenn.

  "We're all ears," Satherlin replied with a grin. Sylenn nodded, took the plate from Konyetta, and stared at it blankly.

  Lyshunda and Satherlin exchanged worried looks, as did several of the others.

  "It was really old," Sylenn began, still staring at the plate without seeing it. "Maybe thirty years. Maybe more. It was also controlling some younger ones; ordering them around like a general. I wasn't expecting it, so they got in several direct hits before I changed my tactics. Drew them into an alley-way, where I could disappear and take them one at a time. He took off across the city and made sure he kept in a crowd. Wasn't until dusk that I could get to him without anyone in the way. Dragged him to a park and drained him a coup
le of times before he hit me again. Managed to pound him a bit, broke the Drone's body enough that I thought I had him.

  "Then it jumped." Sylenn looked up at Satherlin, her drawn face grim.

  "Jumped?" several of them echoed.

  "That's the only word I've got for it. It tore out of the Drone's body and jumped, or flew, over to another man who was passing by. Took him on the run, bare seconds after leaving the first one, who was such a mess I didn't give him another thought. The second Drone acted just like the first, as though he'd been taken years before. Caught him in another alley-way, and he blasted me full on, point blank range."

  Several hisses echoed through the room. Descendants generally didn't live through point-blank attacks.

  "I'd hit him so many times with a couple different balls, I thought he wouldn't have much left. Sent me into a building, at least halfway through it."

  "Three-quarters," Lyshunda clarified. When Sylenn glanced up at her, she added, "You've been out for almost five days, dear; the papers wrote it all up."

  Sylenn nodded blankly, then returned her gaze to the plate, the contents of which she still hadn't touched. "I got up, got back out there. I could tell it still had enough to hurt me, and I was already hurting, ... I had to make a choice. So I let the Hunter have control."

  Faces hardened around the room.

  "But it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. I knew I couldn't take the Drone, knew that I couldn't direct the Hunter well enough, so I let It go. It's learned, I think, because It didn't just start ripping. I think It was confused because I was letting It do everything. It took a few minutes, but I finally got It to realize that It could grab the ball and do the capturing. Took forever to get the thing out of him, and it had been in him, what, less that a quarter hour? Was like the shaman in Comoryos, only worse."

  Quiana paled and sank onto a chair. She'd nearly died in that battle. Hae laid a hand on her shoulder

  "Finally got it out, the beast eating as much as It could at the same time. I've never seen so much energy in one Gontozenel before. The beast was fit to burst; It couldn't eat any more. We got it into the ball and came back to the Temple. That's the last thing I remember."

  Twanne grinned knowingly as she finished unloading the cart onto the big table; she'd dragged Sylenn's body into bed herself.

  "You've done well, Sylenn, and we greatly appreciate your bringing us this news." Satherlin couldn't reach over to Sylenn, but she felt his intent nonetheless. "And I'm glad to see you up and about. You should eat, if you feel able, and drink; you've been without either for too long. While you're doing that, we've things to do. Mosin; I'd like you to go with Niel and assist him. Twanne will see that Sylenn is taken care of."

  Mosin reluctantly peeled himself away from his sister and followed the still-eating Niel out of the room.