Test Subjects

by R S Penney

  Kimran was hit. Arin had a first-person view of the man falling face-down on the ground. He got a good close-up of a black-top road, and he could still hear the sounds of men falling, but he saw nothing else.

  It was over.

  Breathing deeply, Arin touched his fingertips to his forehead and massaged in little circles. “I should have been with them,” he murmured. It was a foolish sentiment, but he still felt guilt over it.

  Sariel's talents would be useless out there. Telepaths could do nothing against an army of mindless drones. If he was honest, Arin had to admit that there was a better than good chance that he himself would have been overwhelmed. Even the best Keepers could do little to protect themselves when faced with incoming fire on all sides. Funny that he still thought about it in those terms. Arin had always wanted to be a Justice Keeper, but the Nassai had rejected him. He had their powers, but he had no right to the name. And that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He wished-

  Footsteps in the stairwell.

  Arin stood up, grimacing as he shook his head. “What nonsense is this now?” He started across the room. “If one of you idiots panicked and came stumbling back here, I will have to-”

  He cut off when the newcomer emerged.

  A man stood just inside the stairwell door: tall, lean and shirtless. Every inch of his exposed dark skin was hairless, and his metallic eyes reflected the room. A ziarogat? It must have been some kind of mistake.

  Arin could not allow this creature to join the battle no matter how much his men needed the help; its presence would alert the Justice Keepers to Slade's involvement. The damn thing just stared at him, waiting for orders.

  With deft fingers, Arin typed commands into his multi-tool, executing a program that sent a signal into the panel on the ziarogat's chest, identifying himself as someone that the ziarogat should obey.

  His eyes narrowed as he studied the cyborg. “What are you doing here?” he asked, stepping forward. “You should not have been dispatched to this world.”

  The ziarogat said nothing.

  “State your mission objectives.”

  Once again, the creature remained silent.

  What was wrong with this thing? It should have been compelled to obey his every command. The ziarogat could not speak, of course, but the panel embedded in its chest had a speaker that would list its most recent set of orders and who had given them. Once Arin's security code was recognized, it should have obeyed without hesitation.

  He turned his back on the cybernetic creature, crossing his arms and forcing out a sigh. “Just my luck,” Arin muttered under his breath. “On top of everything else, I have to deal with one of Slade's defective-”

  Spatial awareness allowed Arin to sense the ziarogat raising one arm to aim the weapon on its gauntlet at the small of his back.

  Arin fell forward, slapping his hands down on the floor while a single bullet buzzed over his back. He lifted his feet off the floor and kicked like a donkey, smashing the panel on his enemy's chest.

  The ziarogat stumbled.

  Arin stood and whirled around in time to see the thing raise its weapon again as it retreated toward the stairwell door. Without thought, he put up a Time Bubble that made his opponent appear to be a blurry, shimmering figure.

  He stepped to the right and let the bubble collapse.

  A bullet whizzed past his left shoulder, but Arin was already charging across the room, closing the distance. The ziarogat adjusted its aim, pointing a fist with whitened knuckles at him.

  Arin fell on his ass, sliding across the floor tiles. Using both hands to lift himself, he kicked upward to strike the underside of the ziarogat's chin, making its head snap back in a way that would give a normal man whiplash.

  The creature staggered through the stairwell door and practically tumbled down the steps. Only the enhanced dexterity programmed into its cybernetically enhanced brain kept the damn thing on its feet. When it reached the landing, it grabbed a railing to steady itself and looked up at him.

  In one quick motion, Arin got to his feet and leaped from the top of the stairs. As he descended toward his opponent, he saw the ziarogat raise its left arm to shield itself, and then a flickering wall of static appeared between them.

  The force-field came at him.

  Trapped in forward motion, Arin had no time to dodge. The thought of using Bent Gravity to pull himself out of the way barely registered when the force-field hit him like a tidal wave and sent him flying backward.

  He went through the door and crashed to the floor, curling up on his side and trying to think through the pain. His symbiont was healing his body – he could feel that much – but it was so hard to resist the urge to just lie there and recover.

  The ziarogat came up the stairs with a blank expression, completely nonchalant about carrying out its primary function – to kill Justice Keepers. It was a machine doing its job, nothing more. Its recognition protocols must have been damaged. That was the only explanation for its failure to obey. He had only an instant to react when it pointed that wrist-mounted weapon at him.

  Once again, Arin made a Time Bubble and used the extra seconds to roll out of the way. His skin was beginning to tingle. It wouldn't be long before his symbiont was too tired to heal his body and craft Bendings, and then this fight would be over.

  Arin let the bubble collapse.

  A bullet struck the floor where he had been, and he heard the distinct crackle of a spark. Only one bullet at a time. Stun-rounds. That was an abnormality; these creatures were lethal, but for some reason, this one was trying to take him alive.

  The ziarogat pivoted slightly to face him.

  Arin brought one foot up to smack the creature's wrist while it tried to take aim. “You are ordered to stand down!” he shouted. “Stand down!”

  Curling up into a ball, Arin sprang off the floor to land in front of the thing and then raised his fists for a fight. The ziarogat looked at him with those dead eyes, calculating its next move.

  It threw a punch.

  Arin ducked, evading the blow by mere fractions of a centimeter. He used one fist to pound the creature's belly, striking again and again. If his opponent had been human, he would have driven the wind from its lungs.

  Clamping one hand onto Arin's head, the creature forced him downward. Its knee came up to smash his nose and make his head ring like a gong. Two hands took hold of the back of his shirt and threw him to the floor.

  Arin flopped onto his back.

  The blurry image of the ziarogat stood over him, one fist pointed down at his belly. A bullet flew from the launcher on its wrist and landed in his stomach. In the brief instant of contact, he felt tiny prongs pierce his shirt and deliver an electric charge.

  The current raced through Arin's body, turning his muscles into jelly. He could not move, could not think. It was all he could do to retain some small scrap of consciousness. The creature was watching him. Why wasn't it obeying his commands?

  His body went limp, and in a moment of unexpected lucidity, the answer was there in his mind. The ziarogat ignored his orders because it had been programmed to ignore his orders. Slade had betrayed him.

  That was his last thought as a second bullet bounced off his stomach with a jolt that knocked him out.

  Part 2

  Chapter 16

  On his first visit to Claire's classroom, Harry had noted the many ways the learning environment had defied his expectations, but now, with class in full swing, he was even more surprised.

  His daughter and another young student stood in the middle of the room, working with some holographic system that modeled the Leyrian solar system. A large, orange sun floated above the table with planets spiraling around it.

  Another group of kids was using a large, tilted screen of SmartGlass in the corner. And they were giggling. One girl was so excited, she practically bounced up and down. To his Earth sensibilities, this looked more like play than studying.

  His mouth worked soundlessly for a
few seconds, and then he shook his head. It's a different culture, Carlson, he reminded himself. Stop acting like you're a caveman who just saw fire for the first time.

  The teacher also defied his expectations.

  Sora wasn't here, and the pang of disappointment he felt at that was accompanied by a flash of guilt. Instead, a tall man with fair skin and a dark goatee stood by the wall, supervising the children.

  He gave a start when he noticed Harry's presence, then turned his attention toward the door. “Mr. Carlson!” he exclaimed. Claire's head whipped around when she heard him speak. “What brings you by today?”

  “I thought I'd have lunch with my daughter,” Harry mumbled.

  His next shock came when Claire ran toward him, threw her arms around him and hugged him tight in front of all the other students. His daughter liked to project a snarky, “I'm too cool for this planet” attitude. He didn't think she would be willing to show such affection in front of her friends.

  As she pulled out of his embrace, Claire shot a glance toward her teacher. “Tim,” she said. “This is my father. Dad, this is Tim.”

  “Tim?”

  “Timonis Elbran,” the teacher clarified. He strode across the room with a friendly smile, then offered a handshake. Harry took the man's hand, surprised to find that he had a very firm grip. “I'm your daughter's teacher.”

  After a moment's thought, Harry remembered seeing the name on various reports the school had sent home. He had just assumed that some teachers specialized in certain subjects. “I thought Ms. Gaieles was Claire's teacher…” He felt incredibly stupid after blurting that out. Both for his ignorance about his daughter's education and for his undue interest in Sora.

  “She is,” Tim said. “The duty is shared between myself, Sora, and Kari Nenalian. Sora has a free day today.”

  Claire smiled up at him with that devilish glint she sometimes got in her eyes. “I told you I have three teachers, Dad,” she teased. “Maybe, if you'd…I don't know…listen to me, you'd understand.”

  Now, that was the daughter he knew and loved.

  Harry felt heat in his face as his head sank with the weight of his chagrin. “You're right,” he replied in a hoarse voice. Jesus, were the other kids looking at him? “I guess I was a little caught up with the move.”

  “It's understandable,” Tim said. “Moving to a new planet would take quite a bit of adjustment.”

  “Is it all right if I take Claire now?”

  “Certainly. We were just about to break.”

  Five minutes later, after she had had a chance to save her work and confer with her partner, Harry was walking with Claire down a long hallway lined with murals painted by the students. The double doors at the end of the corridor allowed sunlight to spill in.

  Claire walked with her eyes forward, clutching the straps of her backpack. “Thank you for coming to have lunch with me,” she said. There seemed to be uncertainty in her words, as if she wasn't entirely certain this was actually happening.

  “I thought we should spend some time together,” Harry said. “After we moved, I got wrapped up in helping Melissa.”

  His daughter wore a thoughtful expression as she nodded. “That makes sense,” she said. “Melissa's the one who has a dangerous job, and since it's pretty much the same as your job, I can see why you'd want to help.”

  Once again, he was taken aback. Claire was still a few weeks shy of her eleventh birthday; he wasn't expecting such maturity from her. That left him feeling guilty. Had he missed some major milestone? Some moment when his youngest started to think – if only briefly – like an adult?

  A ten-minute walk brought them to a cafe where booths sat in the light that came in through circular windows. Plants in wicker baskets sat on high shelves along the sky-blue walls, and the aroma of warm apple pie filled the air.

  The hologram of an olive-skinned woman in a black skirt and a sleeveless red top appeared shortly after they sat down, smiling brightly as she nodded to them. “Welcome to Nina's,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

  Claire was scrolling through options on a thin, SmartGlass tablet, but in moments, she looked up to address the hologram. “The chicken on a bun, please,” she said. “With a glass of orange juice.”

  “And for you, sir?”

  Harry sat back, crossing his arms and sighing softly. “A garden salad, please.” The disappointment in his voice was unmistakable; he wanted a hamburger, but the doctors all insisted that he needed to eat more veggies.

  The hologram winked away.

  “So, how's school?”

  Claire looked up, scrutinizing him for a good long while before she answered. “It's good,” she said. “Kari told me that she was very impressed with my science project. We just started a unit on astronomy.”

  “You're feeling…less stressed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Harry opened his mouth to speak, then forced it shut again, pausing to collect his thoughts. “I know how hard it was on you when I got hurt,” he said at last. “I promise I'll never make you go through that again.”

  “Yeah, I'm okay,” Claire mumbled. “I just…I feel kind of like luggage.”

  Harry's eyebrows went up.

  His daughter snarled like an angry dog, then shook her head. “We moved here for Melissa,” she snapped. “Yeah, you talked to me about it, and I remember telling you that I was okay, but moving here wasn't about me.”

  “Of course it was!” Harry protested. “It's safer here, Claire. The schools are better, and you've had a chance to do things most kids back home will never do.”

  “I know that,” Claire sulked. “But I had friends back home. I liked it back home. You'd do anything for Melissa, but me…”

  Harry stared at the girl with his mouth agape, blinking slowly. “You really believe that, don't you?” It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. “Claire, I love your sister, but that doesn't mean I don't love you.”

  “I know-”

  “We came here,” Harry said, leaning over the table, “Because I thought you would be safer as well.”

  “Oh.”

  Their meals arrived a few moments later, and Harry found himself picking away at the salad. Damn bullet wound. Damn doctors and their damn opinions on the health of a middle-aged man. He really didn't like cucumber.

  Finally, Claire looked up at him, and the concern in her eyes made him realize that he was in for another uncomfortable question. “Dad,” she began in a shaky voice. “Did I take something away from you?”

  “What do you mean.”

  With the sandwich clutched in both hands, raised halfway to her mouth, the girl flinched. “You liked working with the Keepers,” she mumbled. “You liked working with Melissa. Did I take that away from you?”

  Harry was taken aback by the question. “No, Claire,” he stammered. “You didn't take anything for me.”

  “But you were so happy!”

  Harry couldn't help the grin that he felt spreading on his face. Chuckling softly, he shook his head. “You think I was happy being shot at?” he replied. “I admit that I miss being a cop sometimes, but the thing that makes me happiest in this world is you girls.”

  “Really?”

  He reached across the table and set his hand on top of Claire's. “Really. You didn't take anything away from me.”

  “Thank you, so much!”

  That came from Tiela Zarvo, the tiny woman with a bob of short black hair who stood just inside Bevi Tremana's office with a resolute expression. “You put yourself at great risk to protect us.”

  Anna stood before her with hands clasped behind herself, smiling sheepishly at her own feet. “You're very welcome,” she said with a nod. “Protecting those in need is what the Justice Keepers do.”

  The other woman looked up, squinted for a second, then nodded as well. “Many of us have forgotten that lately,” she said with hesitation in her voice. “After what we see on the news…Well, you've reminded us of the truth.”


  She turned to go, stepped through the door and paused before marching off down the hallway. “Thank you, Operative Lenai,” she said one last time before leaving. Anna accepted the praise and tried to find some comfort in it. This community had been torn apart by Adren's violence, but she and her team had put a stop to that.

  They had the telepath in custody at Justice Keeper Headquarters in Denabria, with a slaver's collar around his neck to prevent him from using his talents to cause trouble. She hated that device – for both its name and its function – but it was the only way to prevent a telepath from assaulting the guards and possibly manipulating them into letting him out. Keli had no problem with it; she seemed to think Adren deserved his fate.

  Anna had spent the last twenty-four hours doing follow-up work, checking for any sign that Isara might still be lurking nearby, making sure that Adren's victims got proper medical care. The doctors said they were all doing well. Some would need therapy, but the outlook was positive. And yet, for some reason, she still felt a lump of anxiety in her chest. Something wasn't right, but Anna couldn't put her finger on what.

  “Well, I have to hand it to you,” Bevi Tremana said, stepping through the door. “You really knew how to handle this case.”

  Anna sat on the other woman's desk, smiling as she shook her head ruefully. “I've seen my fair share of weird,” she said. “You do this job long enough, and you'll develop a sense of how to deal with pretty much anything.”

  “I screwed up,” Bevi said. “I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be.”

  The other woman turned so that Anna saw her profile, facing the plain gray wall of her office. Her face hardened. “Apologizing isn't easy for me,” she said. “I'm not used to having to rely on someone else to solve my problems…But I was completely unprepared for a telepath running amok, and I handled it badly.”