“I’ve not done this in years,” I say to Sean.
He shrugs and carries a long sigh. “Hopefully, it’s like shooting a gun after you’ve not done so in a while. It just comes back to you.”
We walk up next to my mother and Kylie. “We can’t do this here,” I tell them. “We’ll need to go someplace dark where they won’t see us disappear.”
“Fine. You boys shout your orders and let’s go.”
“Nope. Kylie is running this show. She’ll be barking orders,” I say.
Kylie instructs the Creations from Desert Hills to keep lookout and watch the Guidance members. The captives rest, snacking on the freeze-dried fruit and water left down here in the bunker. As long as they aren’t ambushed, they should be fine. It’s the safest place in the city.
My mother, Kylie, Sean, and I slip into a nearby hall, out of sight of the others to hide our light.
“Tell me, Kylie,” Mother says, “Can you control your inner adjustment?”
Sean parts his legs wide and crosses his arms. “Judging by the burned to a crisp Creations upstairs, I’d assume not.”
“Stop it, Sean. This isn’t the time.”
Sean clears his throat. “Sorry, Mom.”
The darkness of the tunnel is replaced by the light of my mother’s profile. Sean and I adjust to match her. Her light doesn’t beam out like the hue of a blinding strike of lightning; instead, she possesses a bioluminescent emission of light that lines her silhouette and makes her round cheeks, small, almond shaped eyes, and sharp jaw easy to identify. She smiles, and her radiant silver eyes shine a little brighter. “You boys,” she says, voice soft and hushed as she blinks back tears. A luminous pool lines the bottom lid of her left eye. A tear escapes, skating down her cheek. I jolt forward to catch it before it can hit the ground. “Sorry,” she says as I’m straightening.
Our tears, in this form, are dangerous. A tear’s impact will cause an explosion that can knock out a small town. Our bodies are weapons, like the universe punishing itself for the loss of us.
Kylie squeezes her eyes shut, fists balled, shoulders near her ears.
“Ky,” I say. “You’ve been fighting your emotions for so long your body is having a hard time communicating with your will to change. Stop trying so hard. Relax.”
“I’m relaxed, Marc,” she snaps.
She’s stressed out and overwhelmed, nothing about her is relaxed. “I’m not trying to push you, Ky. Just help.”
“Just give her a little juice so we can get a move on.” Sean with his impatience.
“She’ll have to figure it out on her own, Seanabe. Go lean against the wall and wait,” my mother says and waves her hand behind her. Sean doesn’t move, but he’s silent.
Kylie breathes, breath rushing past her puckered lips, and she allows her muscles to relax. “There are all these feelings surging through my body. I feel my blood rushing; I feel anger, and fear, and anxiety, and affection on top of my flesh like it’s fabric.”
“It’s just a little reprogramming,” my mother says in an encouraging tone. She gives me a nudge against my arm with her elbow and nods toward Kylie, who still has her eyes closed, breaths even as she tries.
I purse my lips and narrow my eyes. She just said to let her figure it out on her own. I conceal my form, burying it under my flesh. “Alright, Ky. Look at me.” She flicks open her ice-blue eyes. They’re soft with despair. “There’s no structure to this.” I press my hand to her chest, and she shivers. “From right here. Every time. You want to feel it, like you feel your heartbeat.” I thump my thumb against her chest, to the rhythm of her heart. “You can compare it, if you must, to the emotions that draw the biggest reaction out of you, the ones that race your heart and stall your breaths.”
Kylie rolls her eyes and sighs heavily.
“Want me to show you what that feels like?” I ask her, smile breaking through.
Sean and my mother’s illumination shines upon her face. Her brows knit, and then it clicks. Her lips pinch as she fights her grin, and she looks away from me. “No.” she grabs my hand, which I move from her chest to her neck. “I think I got it.”
“You do. Make it happen.”
I back away, but she keeps her hold on me. “Don’t let me go yet,” she says and closes her eyes. She sucks in a breath, and on the release, she slowly fades out, flickering with illumination. She’s allowed herself to be converted into her Itteix identity, and I bring on mine. Doing so decreases the level of heat she gives and makes her more comfortable to touch.
Kylie meets my gaze, the blue in her eyes mixing with the Itteix silver irises. Every strand of her hair is detailed, infused with a light that shines brighter than her flesh. I push my fingers through it and pull her to me. “Can I show you something?”
She nods.
I reel her close, and our bodies buzz, warming, shifting our silvery-blue to purple.
Kylie splays her arms at her side. “This is so cool. I love this color. Can I do this with anyone or just you?”
“Just me. You’ll have to be this close.” I slide my thumb over her cheek to see the nerve react by shimmering with light beneath my graze.
She places her hand over mine on her cheek. “I feel you much more intensely like this.”
“If I kiss you, we’ll burn brighter, like the sun, but…”
“Purple,” she says, finishing my sentence.
“Alright, cut the mushy stuff. She’s got it. Now let’s get this show on the road,” Sean says, fading out into a wisp, like a thin line of smoke.
There’s a soft poof sound behind me. Kylie’s quickly figured this one out. My mother is next, and I’m last. We sore from the tunnel, out of the building, through the clouds, and up through the sky to the building of the Trade.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I feel like I’m a part of the wind, one with the cool air of the Earth. My body moves like a ribbon, flexible and fluid. I see the world as I normally would, but I hear it in every cell of my body, from the ash sizzling as it falls to the ground, to the whistling of the wind whipping through the clouds, and the running engines keeping the Trade building hovering in the sky.
I’m the last to land, my body seeming to use the atoms in the air to reform my frame. My feet easily find the ground as I solidify. As I cross the sidewalk, I cool down and fade into my more familiar form. Being another being is hard to adjust to. I never wanted to be something else. I’ve grown to love my Creation body, and I don’t enjoy the amount of energy it takes to change from one form to another. I don’t like the onslaught of sensations I must concentrate on in order to change into my Itteix form.
Like a small island, the Trade’s headquarters hover over Highrum, away from the distraction of the city, but in view of it. One oval-shaped building is the only structure on the island. It’s surrounded by oak and pine trees and tall sunflowers and fields of lavender.
The scent whips past my nose as the wind blows, and I’m nearly lifted off my feet. A few bushes line the walls of the simple, stainless-steel gray building. It goes up a couple stories but is nothing to bat my eyes at. The land surrounding it more beautiful.
I’ve never been up here before. Never had a reason to. I thought we were unable to have contact with the Trade, and discomfort rolls through my stomach at the thought of doing so as I follow Marc’s mother to the pearl-white doors.
I suck in a breath to calm down. The air here is even cleaner than Highrum’s, but it’s cooler. Without the smog from the fire raging below in Highrum, the late afternoon sky shines brightly.
An aircraft rises from the roof of the building and hovers over our heads briefly before turning west and diving toward Earth, disappearing in the clouds. The door opens at our approach, revealing a bright lobby accented by marble floors and countertops. The walls are the color of a gray sidewalk, and the ceiling is made of blue-tinted glass.
Small offices surround the lobby, and just behind the lobby desk—placed in the middle of the floor—where a
petite woman with jet black hair and a pearly white smile sits, is a staircase that rises to the next and last level of the Trade’s headquarters. I can’t see what lies on those levels because of the high railing that serves as a wall for that floor, but I can imagine it may be where they keep their mysteries.
Lovett walks to the counter in full Itteix form, and her voice echoes around us as she says, “Someone here isn’t properly doing their job.”
The young woman behind the lobby desk slowly loses her smile. Her eyes even frown as she listens to Lovett’s complaint about being captured by the Guidance, held against her will, starved, and deprived of her rights. Marc, Sean, and I, each in our Creation form stand back, keeping our stance strong and our gaze straight ahead. Creations—no one, really—are not allowed to address the Trade. We speak when spoken to. Those of us who do not follow the rules are deemed rebellious, showing our lack of respect for those who approved our creation. As it stands, there would be no us if it weren’t for them.
A tall man in a collared navy-blue shirt and beige slacks descends the stairs. His chin is extended as he holds his head high in a way that implies he’s one of power, that even by his presence he deserves our respect. And he gets it.
A hush falls over the lobby when he makes it to the landing. He comes around the desk, stands beside Lovett, and places his hand on hers that rest on the counter. “We may be a few hundred miles above earth, but that doesn’t mean we are not affected by the things going on there. Half of the population is gone, dear friend. We are under a threat. You and your life are very important to us, and so is every other citizen of the America.” He takes a step away from her and presses every finger of his left hand to his chest saying, “I, Trade Officer Audrey Grandin, would like to apologize on behalf of the Trade to you Lovett Thanatos, for making you feel devalued and insignificant to us as a citizen.”
Lovett fades into her human form and nods. “I suppose since what’s in the past has passed, all I can do is accept your apology.”
Trade Officer Grandin smiles, the skin of his once tight cheeks wrinkling. His smile is huge because of the big size of his teeth, but it fits his face. His hair’s slicked back and shiny. The blue tint of the ceiling windows makes his black hair look blue. The earpiece stuffed into his right ear blinks a tiny blue light from the side.
The two turn and head for us. Trade Officer Grandin strides, and with every one of his steps, Lovett, a foot shorter than he is, takes two.
They stop a foot in front of us. His gaze burns through me on his walk over, and the closer he gets, the more intense it becomes. Now, with him standing right before me, I feel like I’m set on fire. My cheeks burn hot, and my stomach turns.
“Trade Officer Audrey Grandin Sir,” I say in a strong tone.
“Kylie Alexander. Marcain and Seanabe Thanatos. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”
Because of the way Lovett strolled in here in her alien form without a care for being shot down or captured as we risk with the Guidance, I openly admit, “I never knew I was an Itteix until a day ago, and I think the Guidance is out to capture, test, and have me breed for them.”
Grandin throws his arm out to the left, gesturing to an office room enclosed by tinted blue glass.
We march over and sit around a table with Grandin at the head of it. The door’s closed, and the room is a lot cooler than the lobby.
Gaze on the table, I blurt, “There are babies in the Guidance building that need to be rescued. I also have the code to shut down the mind control of the Fourth-Generation Creations.”
“The code, now.” Grandin strikes up from his seat and rushes to me, holding a hand to his ear with the earpiece.
I read the code back to him and explain what’s going on with the babies being held in the Guidance building. He doesn’t repeat anything I say, but after I’m finished, he asks, “Did you get that?” then drops his hand from his ear. Hopefully, they’ll save those children asap and do what’s best for them.
For a while, his attention seems otherwise occupied as he listens to the voice coming through his earpiece. Nodding once, he says. “Acknowledged.” He turns his attention to us. “We’ll have the babies rescued within the hour. They are safe. We’ll raise them without the Vojin influence. They will have the Creation gene but will not have a twin, which means they will possess the healing ability. The Fourth Generation Creations have been terminated. They will terrorize the Creations no more.”
“Great.” Sean claps once. “Mission one, completed.”
I raise my hand. “Can I start by asking for a shower and some real clothes?”
“Of course. Each of you can help yourselves to the amenities here. I will have the receptionist make sure you get some comfortable clothes.”
I slouch into the chair, sighing with relief.
“So,” Grandin carries on, propping his clasped hands on the table. I continue to avoid looking him in the face as to not be disrespectful. “Kylie, I’m inclined to believe you may feel at a disadvantage, discovering your origin so late in life and at such a trying time. On behalf of the entire Trade council, I sincerely apologize for the loss of your parents and your twin. In every war, there are, unfortunately, casualties, and some hit closer to home than others. We,” he again presses his five fingers of his left hand to his chest, “have lost many in our attempt to expose the Guidance, specifically, Richard and his partner, Arletta. Everyone has been murdered with their deaths covered by the flaws of the country.”
I lift my gaze from his hands to the T stitched onto the chest pocket of his shirt. Neither his condolences, nor his comparison draws a response from me. All I want is for them to be straight with me. Give me my mission, let me choose my weapons, and watch me work.
Grandin leans forward, propping his elbows on the table. Marc and Sean sit back on their chairs, looking in Grandin’s direction, but also not looking in his face. Lovett, the virtuous woman I’m discovering she is, stares Grandin in the eyes. She sits on the chair, legs crossed, bare foot tapping the air, nails rapping against the marble top of the table. Her lips are pursed. She’s also unmoved.
“There are a few of you the Guidance had their eye on.” Grandin starts slowly, tone on edge as if the information is classified, and he’ll reap some consequences by telling us. We each lean in, noticing his discomfort, though interested in what he is about to reveal. “You and Luke were to be made into ultimate weapons, so once of age you could breed more weapons. The Guidance have known you were Itteix from the day your parents were murdered. They’ve known you all were, even when your husband was murdered, Lovett.”
“And it was your job to protect us,” Lovett says, slamming her hand on the table. Her gesture, though aggressive, doesn’t result in a slapping sound against the marble, but a pat. As though she were purposefully trying to lighten her anger.
“Itteix are extremely important to us. During the destruction, when the alien invaders disrupted our planet, it was the Itteix that tried to save us from the Vojin’s attack.” I sneak a peek and see his downcast gaze and tightly drawn eyebrows match his distressed tone. “The Vojin convinced us it was the other way around, and unfortunately, our defensive efforts were used against the Itteix, helping the Vojin win.”
Grandin presses a button on a remote, and in the middle of the table, a small black semi-circular object projects upward, showing what I suspect to be a time in the past when illuminated spheres fell from the sky, burning and exploding in the sky like fireworks. Their residue hits the ground and contributes to the eruption of the land like catastrophic bombs. The video fast forwards to a few humans shaking hands with a Volones and two blueish-green Vojin. They sign a paper. “We agreed to letting the Vojin help protect the Earth because they had us convinced this was their desire, protecting our little planet from other extraterrestrial life that intends to harm it. We signed the treaty. Vojin didn’t get free reign on Earth, but we appreciated the help from outside our atmosphere.”
Lov
ett sits forward and says, “And the plan went to shit, kids. The Vojin was the real enemy, and they,” she throws a point at Grandin, “found it out fairly quickly.”
Grandin opens his hands and rests them on the table. They splay as he says, “We intercept every communication that’s passed from space to Earth and from country to country. One was peculiar; it was forwarded to Richard a decade ago from the Vojin reading, verbatim, ‘As you have now been voted in as Leader of the Guidance, you are in a position of power. Repay the Vojin the debt you owe, or they will take it.’ There was no response to our knowledge, until five weeks later, when Arletta responded how they would work something out. So we needed eyes on the inside, which is how we had so many people dedicated to work with and for us to protect our country from people who want to harm it.”
I clear my throat and sit up straight in my chair. “The Vojin discovered the advantage of having Creations on their side; you all discovered the advantage of having the Itteix on your side, likely once you all made amends, and then the Guidance discovered the advantage of fooling everyone into making their perfect being. A mixed Vojin Creation, courtesy of the Vojin implants in Creations, with the heart of an Itteix, courtesy of the Trade covering up Itteix in Creation breeders and their own sick desire to experiment with genetically altered humans. All for one to understand the depth of emotions, have the guts to battle, and easily latch a host for controlling purposes.” Nodding, I say, “I get it,” and shrug, because it ultimately means nothing at this point in the game. It’s too late to stop them. “How do we fix it?”
Marc and Sean scoot closer to the table and lean forward as the projector flicks off. Sean says, “The Vojin got the jump on us the last time we took them on. Before we even had the plan together, they had us by the balls.” He gestures between Marc and him and says, “And we still ended up getting played. The guns and bullets did some damage, but we were outnumbered. Aliens, Zombies, Creations…” Sean angrily blows his breath past his lips, making them rumble as he throws himself back against the chair.
The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3 Page 85
