“Sky Ryndam!” a new voice called. Ryndam was an honorary family association Sky had acquired on one of her previous visits. Sky started to smile, but then she noticed Danny trailing behind the woman who’d called, and a rear guard prodding him along.
Danny’s nostrils flared when he heard her name. He’d been researching dome history, and he knew Eris Ryndam was the original who was the seed of all the medical technology in the dome. The way they put live cells into healing veins, that was quite a literal seed. The Ryndam template was one of the few that appeared in almost every kind of work in the dome, and they were the face of the government.
“What’s going on, Calla?” Sky asked, wondering what Danny had done to warrant the escort.
“That’s Deputy Prime Minister Ryndam,” Calla said stiffly. At six feet, her height rivaled Sky’s, and they both had crystal blue eyes. Calla even bleached her brunette hair so that it was blonde like Sky’s.
“It’s nice that you’ve grown an ego,” Sky smirked, loving the way Calla’s cheeks reddened. “Danny, what are you doing here?”
“He wouldn’t calm down,” Calla answered. “We thought this would be the safest place for him.”
“You gave us that apartment at Eastwind. He’d be safe there,” Sky said. “Danny, talk to me.”
“They took Morrigan,” he rasped. His expression was strained, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
“Took her where?” Sky asked.
“Dr. Schon wanted to speak to her about the test subject,” Calla explained, her voice calm.
“She’s not a test subject,” Danny growled. Sky couldn’t see any restraints. Was he being controlled? He should have been shouting.
“And she won’t be treated as one,” Calla said, with a pleading glance at Sky. “Dr. Schon knows the difference between a test subject and a person.”
“She could barely tell Tommy and Michael apart,” Danny said, his voice quaking. “And Michael is so broken. Fisher, did you know he was in so much pain? Broken bones, broken back? Things that only happen when abusers kick you around and take pleasure watching you die slowly.”
“I’m sure that can’t be right,” Jack said, sitting forward in her chair, her face paling. “That can’t be right. Deputy Prime Minister, I want to see my son… my charge… Michael. Please.”
“He’ll be brought here shortly. Dr. Schon wanted to conduct a final live test before his inquiry,” Calla said, tapping a device embedded in her palm, lighting up the empty cell next to Jack’s. “Sky, would you like to wait inside with your companion?”
“No,” Danny croaked. “Someone needs to be there for Amanda when she wakes.”
“That someone is going to be you,” Sky said to Danny. Then she looked at Calla. “He’s not facing inquiry, Calla.”
“Deputy—”
“Deputy,” she growled. “Calla. He is the caretaker for Amanda—our colleague that your people graciously agreed to treat.”
“Yes, he’s been whining about her, too,” Calla said. “I don’t know how you tolerate men.”
“Like this,” Sky said, stepping past Calla and taking Danny in her arms. She pulled his face toward hers, pressing their lips together. Danny’s body quaked, and his hands moved forward to brush her thighs, but he didn’t seem able to lift them higher. “Focus on Amanda. When they bring Michael here, they’ll bring Morrigan. I can help them,” Sky whispered in his ear. She kissed him again, and his arms twitched as he tried to return the embrace. “You stay with Amanda.”
“I’ll stay with Amanda if you take me to her,” Danny said, pressing his cheek to Sky’s so she’d know to keep holding him. “I’ll stay by her side. I’ll take her back to the Eastwind. But you have to promise me Morrigan will be safe.”
“She’s in more danger from Dr. Fisher than from Dr. Schon,” Calla huffed. But she motioned to the guard and they led Danny back down the hall the way they’d come.
“What did that mean?” Sky asked.
Jack didn’t answer.
“Jack, what did you do to Morrigan?”
Morrigan concentrated on her hand in Michael’s as they passed through the city. She’d spent so little time there in her previous trip, and most of it in Dr. Fisher’s office working with Michael. She thought she was protecting Michael, but the way he led her and held her, it was clear he thought she was the one who needed protecting. The guard behind them was to ensure her compliance, not Michael’s.
They entered what looked like an apartment building and took an elevator to the third floor. Michael’s pain meds were wearing off, and he was winded from the walk. Dr. Schon’s blonde hair was twisted atop her head in a way that looked both messy and professional. She was dressed in the same monochromatic white that most Cordovans wore, but somehow, hers looked more tattered and rumpled. She muttered to herself as she stared at the door, then motioned the guard to come around and open it.
The four of them stepped inside. This looked like a home, not a lab. Dr. Schon crossed her arms as she surveyed the room, then she went to check the doors in the hall. When she found the room she wanted, she motioned Michael and Morrigan to follow. The room smelled of solvent, but it was neatly arranged with fresh sheets on the bed and a desk with a paper journal.
“What is this?” Morrigan asked.
“This is where Fisher keeps him,” Schon said, poking around the room. She checked the drawers and pulled out some of the clothes. Then she opened the journal. “Her notes said that he wrote, but these pages are empty.”
“His journal’s at the Eastwind,” Morrigan said. “My people helped clean this place so that Jack and Michael could return.”
“I see,” Schon said. “You were present when he severed his ear?”
“No, I treated the injury after the fact,” Morrigan answered. “He was already hurt when he came to Dr. Fisher’s lab.”
“But you agree it was nearly severed. The other rat—male—did not exaggerate the extent?”
“It was being held in place by the skin here,” Morrigan said, tracing her finger across the line of skin behind her ear. “The rest was sliced. I cannot imagine how he could have done that to himself. I believe someone else held the knife.”
“He is quite capable of causing himself injury,” Schon said dismissively. Morrigan balked, wanting to point out that even if he had broken his own ribs, that did not excuse her for not treating them.
“Is your interest in him purely sexual?” Schon asked.
“Not remotely,” Morrigan growled. “No. I—I have worked with deaf and hard-of-hearing people before. I know I can help him communicate.”
“He doesn’t have a thought in his head,” Schon scoffed.
“Doesn’t he?” Morrigan challenged. “He has a journal filled with stories that he has written. I can teach him to speak—”
“He’s mute. His vocalizations have never been more than secondary,” Schon dismissed.
“Michael, show her,” Morrigan said, shaking his arm. “Show her what you’ve learned.”
I’m sorry, Michael signed. You shouldn’t help me anymore.
“No! I will not let you give up,” Morrigan insisted.
She’s studying you. She wants to watch my baby grow in you. I can’t let you become a test subject. His shoulders slumped and the sad, submissive boy returned.
Resisting the urge to scream, she took a breath and turned to Dr. Schon. “He doesn’t want me to be your test subject.”
“You want me to believe those gestures express high-level concepts?” Schon sneered, rolling her eyes.
“I can teach you,” she offered.
“Ask him why he cut his ear.”
“I have,” Morrigan sighed. “He says he’s trying to ascend.”
“Are you mocking our beliefs?” Schon growled. “He didn’t say that. He doesn’t think like us. For him, kissing you is just fulfillment of basic, primal desire.”
“Not true!” Michael cried out loud, his deep voice booming.
Schon raised he
r eyebrows and smirked. Michael backed down, keeping his eyes lifted just enough to lip read.
“Impressive,” Schon said, considering Michael anew. “Now tell me why you mutilated yourself.”
“To terminate,” Michael answered slowly. He’d never practiced these words and they came out slurred. Morrigan barely understood him.
“You are so stupid,” Schon scoffed. “An injury like that wouldn’t be fatal.”
“You terminate,” Michael tried, making a few meaningless signs.
“I guess you do have a thought in your head. You thought if you hurt yourself, I would terminate your project? That I would end your life for you, and you would ascend?”
“Yes,” Michael said.
Schon raised an eyebrow. “Test subjects cannot ascend. You end. Is that what you want?”
“No,” Morrigan cried. “He’s just as much a person as you. Why can’t you see that?”
“You thought you could demonstrate with that dramatically timed kiss and a few words,” Schon harrumphed.
Michael grabbed the journal from the table and a pen from the drawer, quickly scratching out the words: “Do not study her.”
Schon crossed her arms, but couldn’t hide that she was impressed. “Do you know why Dr. Fisher wanted you to come here?”
“She brought me to the lab to share what I knew about fertility,” Morrigan said. “And we have males on our ship that could answer questions for Michael and Tommy about… well, being male.”
“Knowledge exchange,” Schon said. “That’s all she told you.”
“That’s all we got around to.”
“She never asked you to procreate with this test subject?” Schon asked.
“No,” Morrigan said defensively, though in retrospect the implication was as clear as day. “Michael, did your mother tell you to have sex with me?”
Michael shook his head. He mouthed something and made a gesture with his hand.
“Seems strange she didn’t ask when it would validate his existence,” Schon said. “What did he say this time?”
Morrigan debated whether to lie, but Schon ran out of patience first.
“I will stall his inquiry for three days. You will stay here with him and continue your work on his communication,” Schon ordered. Then she grabbed Michael’s face and jerked his chin up. “You improve that voice, make it less awful to listen to, prove you can express your thoughts, and I will support Fisher’s petition for your personhood.”
Michael nodded. He trembled, but Morrigan held him steady. This was a win. Tommy was wrong about his voice.
“You have three days. Three days to be free or terminated. Can you count to three?”
Michael held up three fingers. Morrigan couldn’t believe someone who’d spent so much time with him had underestimated his intelligence by that much.
“Can you repair the nerve and bone damage on his spine? The chronic pain makes it difficult for him to be up for long periods,” Morrigan said.
Schon shook her head. “That treatment is reserved for people, Doctor. If you truly care about his life, you will not leave his side when this strange infatuation of yours fades.”
Tray slouched in the back of the Bobsled, his heart aching, his head spinning. Mikayla had mentioned trying to track Hero by Virp, so the others had decided to fly and scan to see if Hero had tried to teleport across the ocean. Hawk used his power, trying to send juice to Hero’s Virp without frying it. Chase manned the ‘sled’s controls.
“He could be in the middle of the ocean. He could be dead,” Tray moaned, his body clenching as the wind bucked the ‘sled.
“If he teleported someplace unsafe, he’d just go back home,” Hawk said.
But Hero wasn’t home. He could have teleported into a tree, fallen out, and broken his neck. Then what? They didn’t know much about his power, except that Mikayla refused to let him practice it. He’d jumped between the domes in Quin, but only to places or people he knew.
“He had a Confluence. Sikorsky gave him a Confluence. I’m going to kill that man!” Tray ranted.
“That was on the to-do list anyway,” Chase commented, failing to elicit a laugh.
“What if he tried to get to me, but he couldn’t find me because of that damn cloak! What if this shield keeps hybrids out?” Tray continued. The air whooshed around the little ship, so loud that he could only hear them through his Feather, even though they weren’t more than a few feet apart.
“Then it’s very bad at it. Hybrid power is literally how we found Cordova,” Hawk pointed out, turning in the seat to face Tray. He had a few tablets in his lap, and he’d already fried the first.
“What if the Confluence connected to another Confluence stone somewhere. What if some half-breed has him?” Tray worried.
“Or what if he’s on one of the Confluence piles we dumped,” Chase said.
Hawk sat straighter, then looked out the window into the unrelenting rain. “Chase, that’s not a bad idea. Head south.”
Tray sat forward with a surge of hope now that they might have an actual path. He kept one hand on his Feather, and called out, “Hero, can you hear me? I’m coming for you.”
Hawk used one tablet to project the map they’d made in their surveys, showing the areas they were flying over. They should have been looking out the window, but there was no way they’d spot him through the downpour and dark clouds. They needed the signal. Hawk closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. Suddenly the Bobsled dropped.
“Whoa!” Chase hollered. “Hawk! You can’t steal thrust! The grav-drive is not a Confluence!”
Hawk checked the projected map and frowned. “I don’t think he’s here. Next dump site.”
Chase rose above clouds, heading for the second dump site, and then the third. Tray’s heart sank. He was angry at Mikayla for driving Hero to run. She called Tray selfish for tromping about the planet without giving a thought to parenting, but she refused to let him be a parent. Now she knew there was a world to explore and she wanted to disrupt Hero’s life and leave Quin. Tray would give all of it up to stay home with his son.
The rain eased, and Chase circled the third dump site. It was a steep mountainside, covered in moss and gray rocks. White threads of waterfalls wound down the sides. The closest one raged, overflowing its banks, making a mist. Tray tried not to think of how easily his son could get swept away by the water, smashed against a rock, and drowned.
“Can you land?” Hawk asked. “If I have a Confluence, I can connect to his and make it glow. I think I should be able to see it if he’s close.”
“There’s no flat surface,” Chase said. “Even if we spotted him, we’d have to make some kind of rig to get down to him.”
Tray swore. He couldn’t imagine leaving Hero alone while they rigged up some kind of rescue system. He’d jump out of the Bobsled if he had to.
“Daddy, is that you?” a tiny voice whispered.
Tray’s eyes shot open. Hawk had a hand on a tablet, and his eyes closed in concentration.
“It’s me. Hero, it’s me!” Tray said. “Do you see me? Do you see the Bobsled?”
“I thought my Virp was broken,” Hero said. “I can’t move. I fell and hit my head and I can’t sit up.”
Tray shuddered, and shot a desperate look at Hawk. And suddenly, Hero was between them, sopping wet and shivering. Tray scooted as far back as he could, but they couldn’t lay Hero flat on the bench seat. His left pant leg was torn below the knee, and his leg was covered with blood. Hawk tried to support the injured leg, but there wasn’t space in the foot well, and keeping Hero’s upper body stable seemed more important. Hero’s face was pale and his skin cold and filthy. Tray put his jacket around his son, trying to keeping Hero’s arms braced against his chest. Tray didn’t see an open head wound, but if Hero couldn’t move, it was bad.
“Are we going to the ship or the city?” Chase asked.
“I’m not taking him through decon,” Tray said. “Take us home.”
24
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Something unseen tugged at Danny’s body, like someone had a rope around his torso and a clamp on his jaw. He recognized the influence of a hybrid. What he didn’t know was whether Deputy Prime Minister Ryndam was the hybrid, or if the power had been syphoned into their technology. Even as he complied with Ryndam’s wishes, he felt like someone was kicking his heels to get him to move.
When they arrived at the NR lab, Tommy was waiting in the hall, holding a Virp, running his thumb over the screen. His mouth opened when he saw Ryndam, then he ducked his head.
“Fisher?” Ryndam asked.
“Yes,” Tommy said, using his falsetto. His lip was busted from when Dr. Schon smacked him that morning and bright red scab stood out against his smooth skin. “Hello, Deputy Prime Minister.”
“Why are you here?” Ryndam asked.
“Amanda Gray gave me a book. She wants to discuss it this evening,” Tommy said, holding up the Virp. “Is that all right? I’ve been looking forward to…”
Ryndam looked at Danny, and the invisible clamp released from his jaw. “He is a licensed caretaker. If you wish to relinquish your role, then I will take you to the Eastwind.”
“I’m not relinquishing anything,” Danny said. “Tommy is welcome to spend the evening with us as a friend.”
Ryndam gave Danny a perplexed look, and then the rope released from his torso. He shook out his arms, trying to be subtle so it wouldn’t look like an attack.
“He makes a lot more sense next to you,” Ryndam told Danny, giving Tommy a nod. “I do pray Fisher is right and your influence is positive. The last thing we need is another temperamental male.”
“I fear for the safety of my people,” Danny said. “I am responsible for all of their lives, and you blocked our communications.”
“When we allowed you free communication, you conspired to steal a test subject.”
Echo Page 17
