"And if they gang up on you?" he asked with a thread of tension in his voice that she recognized as fear.
"No need to fuss. They’re strong, but it would take a lot more than three of them to bring me down." She chewed on her lip, mind speeding along faster than light. "All right, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to keep pretending to be a level four and let them think they’ve got me."
"Are you nuts?"
"I want them to board the station—"
"No sarkin’ way, Ryelle! Don’t even—"
"Listen, Declan. Those aren’t just children. They’re telenetic children. I want to see them for myself, talk to them. I want to see if we can work something out." He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. "I’ll contain them and keep the GenTec at bay. The station will be safe."
"Safe. With three hostile GenTec telenetics in residence. You really are nuts. Why don’t you just talk to them over the com?"
"Because they’d still be with the other GenTecs. I want to see what they’re like alone, without their creators’ influence."
"Take them away and isolate them? Isn’t that what the Institute did to you?"
Ryelle felt the blood drain from her face and turned to give Declan the full force of her furious attention. "What the hell else would you suggest? They aren’t here for tea and cookies, Master Chief. They may be as scared and lost as I was as a child, but they are attacking me with extremely hostile intent. If they succeed here, they won’t leave a single soul alive, because you are witnesses to their newest strategy. This is a test. If it works, they’ll start the war all over again, this time with a level playing field, telenetic for telenetic. I doubt these are the only telenetics they have, but if so, you can bet there will be more soon."
His face tightened, eyes blazing blue fire at her. "I get that you need to stop them. I just don’t get why you’ve gotta do it on my sarkin’ station, Ryelle. I’m responsible for these people. Bringing GenTecs on board is a risk I can’t accept."
She took a deep breath, trying to keep hold of her patience. "I promise you, they won’t harm this station. They weren’t going to anyway until after they’d bagged me."
"I thought you said they weren’t here for you."
"They don’t need telenetic genetic material. But I think they still need me for training. These attacks…" She gestured vaguely in the direction of the ships, sight swimming out of focus as she analyzed the sequence and pattern of the telenetic attacks. "They aren’t trying to kill me. They’re testing, learning from what I do to counter their actions. They’ve started using some of my own techniques. They haven’t had anyone to hone their skills. They need a teacher."
The word arrested her and she considered it for a long moment, not hearing Declan’s reply. Was it possible? It was fraught with risk, both in the short and long term. But killing them all wouldn’t solve anything. She’d already tried that. "The GenTec want to come home," she whispered, mind drifting down avenues built by years of fighting and then wielding political power.
Declan shook her arm, recapturing her attention. "Ryelle! Are you all right? What’s wrong?" His face was paler than normal, eyes dark with concern.
She sighed. "I keep telling you, I’ve got this. They’re fast learners, but they’d have to get a hell of a lot stronger and quicker to affect me. The only tricky part is keeping up the illusion that I’m just a level four." She peeled his hand from her arm and held it in both of hers. "Please, Declan. Trust me."
"Goddamn it," he muttered, running fingers roughly through his hair. He suddenly noticed his people watching and straightened, face smoothing into a hard mask. Stepping to the rail, he said with calm command, "Skeleton crew only. Everybody else, go to the nearest safe containment area. Don’t forget a deck of cards and munchies."
There was a smattering of nervous chuckles as most of the people rose from their stations and rode the grav steps to the entrance deck, filing past Declan and Ryelle with edgy, furtive glances. Ryelle paid them no mind, concentrating on her three adversaries with a frown. Just children. Damn those GenTec.
When most of the crew was gone, Declan turned to her with grim demand. "They don’t get out of your control. Got that?"
"Yes, Master Chief," she said in a bland voice. "Now hush and let me concentrate."
He moved away, giving her space while he dealt with the frantic miners and Mobulus HQ’s demands for information. The ships came on with ponderous inevitability, the three child telenetics lobbing her back and forth between them like a new toy. She played the tiring level-four telenetic to the hilt.
When the ships broke out of the ‘roids and into open space between the field and the station, Ryelle was limping along for them, yielding one moment, then battling them back in an act of desperation. It was a fine bit of theater, if she did say so herself, aided by their naiveté and inexperience. A battle-hardened telenetic would have seen through her deception, but these children had had no such training.
By the time the ships reached the station, she was defeated, feigning exhaustion while they held her contained and immobile. The room was silent and tense as the sparse crew and Declan watched a holo of the ominous array of GenTec ships descending upon them. The Mobulus station had no defenses, so they were helpless at the feet of the GenTec.
As she had suspected they would, a midsized transport left one of the larger ships and headed for the station, carrying all three telenetics and a contingent of GenTec soldiers. Declan turned from the hologram, staring at her with fierce blue eyes and grim features. She winked at him, lips quirking just slightly at the edges. It was the most she could allow herself to move. He grimaced at her and turned his head to watch the transport’s progress, his knuckles white where he gripped the rail. Ryelle sighed, wondering when he’d lost his trust in her ability.
She waited until the ship docked and the telenetics disembarked with their soldier guard. Once they were on the station proper, she shrugged off their telenetic hold and turned on them, immobilized the group in an instant. Then she methodically destroyed each of the ship’s communication, propulsion, and weapon systems. Some either fought or fled as they realized what was happening. She deflected any blasts and caught the runners, holding all the ships until she had disabled them to the point that they had life support and little else.
Once the ship-borne GenTec were neutralized, she returned the soldiers to their transport, and then returned the transport to its fleet, taking a moment to disable it as well. Then she turned her attention to the problem of the telenetics. "Declan, I’m going to need a secure section of the station to hold these three."
When she got no answer, she glanced around to see the crew staring at her with varying levels of shock and awe.
Declan faced the array of drifting ships with his arms folded and a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. "I’d forgotten," he muttered. "I thought I’d remembered how amazing you are, but I didn’t really. Goddamn, Ryelle."
"I’ll second that," Pete wheezed, leaning carefully against the rail. "I saw vids of Mirabella, but Sweet Mother, it ain’t the same. You—you just…"
Ryelle sighed. "Focus, please. I’ve got three dangerous children I need to contain. How large is your medical unit?"
Declan turned to her with a frown. "Not large enough. We’d still need access for station personnel."
"No isolation ward?"
He shook his head. "We can clear out a storage room."
"Might work," she responded, heading for the door. "I’m off to meet our visitors."
"I’ll come with you," Declan said with a dark undertone to his voice.
Ryelle studied him as they left operations together. "Don’t trust me to handle it alone, Master Chief?" she asked quietly.
His face tightened and he shot her a quick glance that looked like regret. "I’m sorry, Ryelle," he said when they were alone in the corridor. "I should have remembered what you could do. But…" He shook his head, mouth thinning. "These are people I care about and you’re not infalli
ble."
"True enough," she said mildly, while her chest cramped with hurt.
They walked silently for a moment, before Declan sighed and caught her elbow, pulling her to a halt and turning her to him. "It’s not that I don’t trust you, honey. Thinking about anybody I care about in danger makes me nuts. That includes you, y’know."
She looked into his solemn gaze and felt a gooey smile try to sneak across her lips. Pathetic. It’s not like he was declaring his undying love. "How are you doing this?"
He lifted his eyebrows. "What?"
"You’ve got to be feeling my ability, but you’re not tackling me. I’m both impressed and disappointed."
He chuckled, moving her along the corridor again with a hand still at her elbow. "Lots of practice. I’m getting used to it. Plus, you wore me right the hell out last night."
"Getting used to it?" There was a sinking in her stomach. "Does that mean you don’t want—"
He stopped abruptly, yanking her around and pressing her against the wall, showing her with his demanding mouth and the hardness of his body that he was still very much affected by her. When he lifted his head, he growled, "Hell, yes, I still want. Just getting better at controlling myself."
This time she let the sappy smile have its way, curling her fingers in his uniform. "Mmm, I’d say sorry, but I’m not."
He made a rough sound in his throat and pushed away from her, a gleam of heated amusement in his eyes. "Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got work to do."
Her happy glow lasted until they reached the corridor where she had immobilized the children. Then the warmth seemed to drain out of her entirely. They had been caught in mid-stride, eyes wide and faces stiff as they stared at her. She felt her stomach churn and she grimaced at her own handiwork, terrorizing children in the line of duty.
"Hell, they look almost normal," Declan muttered at her side.
And they did. Two males and a female, they looked to be about the same age, roughly eight or nine years old. One boy was slightly taller and could have been a bit older. They all wore the same outfit, a high-necked, long-sleeved, greenish-gray tunic with matching slacks. Other than ebony dark skin and black eyes with no whites around the pupils, they seemed to have all the usual human characteristics. They looked strangely frail to Ryelle’s eyes.
"How odd," Ryelle murmured, remembering her own experience with GenTecs—a face with no mouth or nose and another with hard, plated skin. Shaking off the disturbing memory with a shrug of her shoulders, she stepped forward and addressed her prisoners. "I am Telenetic Ryelle Soliere. This is Master Chief Engineer Declan McCrae, head of this station. May I know your names?"
If anything, their eyes widened further and they quivered in her hold like leaves in a storm.
"You are the Death Dealer of Mirabella," the tallest boy said, his voice thin but quavering with defiance. "The Sun Stealer. Why are you here?"
She heard Declan draw a sharp breath at the titles, but she didn’t look at him. She tilted her head, studying the boy intently. "Luck brought me here. Good luck for us, bad luck for the GenTec. Why are you here, little man?"
He didn’t answer.
She glanced at the other two with raised eyebrows, but they kept silent also. "Shall I guess?" she said gently. "You are telenetic, but the GenTec have no experience with raising and training such talents. You’re here to acquire a teacher."
The smallest boy twitched, but that was their only response. The unrelieved midnight of their eyes disconcerted her.
"So what do you suggest I do with you?" she asked them.
"Kill us," the tall boy said with flat finality.
"Because we will kill you when we can," the girl added in a soft, almost sweet voice.
"We aren’t defective," the small boy finished in a sullen mutter with a hint of a scowl on his dark face.
"Defective," Ryelle mused in a thoughtful tone, linking her fingers together and studying them with as much calm as she could muster. That cold kill us still reverberated in her mind, sending chills down her spine. "Are you sure about that? You failed your objective here. And you look very much like your ancestral humans instead of the enhancements the GenTec so admire and revere. Doesn’t that make you defective?"
The small boy jerked in her hold, ebony eyes blazing dark fire at her. "We didn’t fail! You weren’t supposed to be here! And we only look like this ‘cause—"
The tall boy made a hissing sound and the little one subsided with a sidelong glower at his companions. The girl had her lips pressed tightly together, eyes aimed at Ryelle’s feet.
Ryelle made a noncommittal sound in her throat then separated her fingers and spread her hands in an open gesture. "Well, I don’t plan to kill you, so I suggest we retire someplace more comfortable. I have a feeling this discussion is going to take a while and we’d get awfully tired standing around here." She planted her hands on hips and gave them a considering look. "If I free you to walk on your own, will you behave?"
The tall boy and girl exchanged a sidelong glance, before the boy said, "We will," in a much too agreeable voice.
Ryelle nodded and turned her back before she allowed herself to smile at the response.
Declan was looking at her like she’d lost her mind. "Free them?" he asked in a low, incredulous voice.
"Trust me?" she asked in return with lifted eyebrows and wry smile.
He took a deep breath and nodded, expression grim as he looked at the children over her shoulder.
"All right, kids. Follow the leader." She released them and began to walk, taking no more than two steps before she felt their concerted attack. With a sigh, she immobilized them once more and floated them along after her in a neat row, not acknowledging their rebellion in any other way. "I imagine your—parents?—will be concerned for your whereabouts and well being, but we need to talk before I chat with them. If you’re hungry or thirsty, just let me know, and we’ll do our best. Though I have to confess, the food on this station is…less than stellar. On the other hand, MCE McCrae here makes a mean milkshake." She sent a wink to Declan, but he just stared at her.
"Where are you taking them?" he asked with deep suspicion in his voice.
"My rooms," she answered as casually as she could but slid her gaze away from his with an inner wince of anticipation.
He grasped her upper arm in a tight grip and gave her a little shake. "You are not taking them to the residential area. I’ll get a storage room cleared—"
"Meanwhile, we stand in the corridor and twiddle our thumbs? I want to sit and try to have a normal conversation with these children. Children, Declan. Who, by the way, are expecting me to kill them any second now. I think they’d be more receptive in a comfortable setting."
"Receptive to what?" Still suspicious.
She gave him a brilliant smile and said nothing. He glowered at her and paused at a com unit. She didn’t pause with him but heard his crisp orders to clear a storage area and prep it for residential use. The corridors were thankfully deserted—the telenetic children would have a terrorizing effect on the station occupants.
When they reached her quarters, Ryelle entered with the children floating behind and Declan bringing up the rear. She could hear him muttering ominously but pretended to be deaf, placing the children with gentle care on a couch together. Their eyes were wide as they stared at her, little bodies stiff with tension. She released her hold on them and smiled.
"So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?"
"So you can poison us?" the tall boy asked harshly.
Ryelle turned her laugh into a cough, holding a hand in front of her mouth to hide her smile as she sat across from them. "Why do you think I’d poison you?"
"Or drug us," he said in a defensive tone, looking offended at her amusement. "To get what you want."
"I don’t want anything from you."
"Than why haven’t you killed us?"
"I don’t kill children," she said in a gentle voice, humor draining from her. "I s
uppose I’ve been painted the villain, the murdering monster of Mirabella by your parents. Or creators, or whatever. The truth is I regret what I did. I feel as though I should have found another way to stop your people and end the war. I’m grateful to you, because I feel like I’ve been given a second chance."
Declan made a rough sound from his vigilant stance by the door, but he said nothing. The girl flicked him a glance, but the boys didn’t look away from Ryelle. None of the three seemed any more relaxed or receptive.
Ryelle sighed. "May I know your names? You can make some up, if you like. I’d just rather not resort to Boy One, Boy Two, and Girl. Or Larry, Curly, and Moette."
Declan muttered something that didn’t sound appreciative of her sense of humor. None of the children seemed to get it. They glanced at one another with furtive determination before they attacked her telenetically again. She caged them again, though she allowed movement within a small space around them.
"Then I’ll name you," she stated as if nothing had happened. She was sure Declan hadn’t noticed a thing. She considered them thoughtfully for a moment then pointed at the girl. "Rose." The tall boy. "Daniel." The smallest one. "And…Jake. Will that suit you?" Silence. "Fabulous," she said dryly. "You all look about the same age. Can I know how old you are?"
This time when they looked at one another, there was uncertainty in the lines of their young features.
"We…aren’t allowed to know," Daniel answered reluctantly.
She blinked at them. "Ah. Accelerated growth?"
"We should not be speaking to her at all," Rose whispered to Daniel. The tall boy pressed his lips together grimly, but Jake glowered at his knees and said, "They didn’t tell us what to do if we got caught. I’m thirsty." Rose nudged him with an admonishing elbow, but his glower only deepened.
Ryelle rose to her feet. "I’ll get you all something to drink."
"We want nothing from you!" Daniel said, chin lifted in defiance.
"Oh, give over, kid," Declan snapped, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "She could squash you in a second. If there was really something she wanted from you, she could hurt you until you begged to give it up. It’s stupid not to drink and eat while you can."
No Such Thing Page 25
