The Cure

by Teyla Branton

  Dimitri took Mari’s hands. “Hello, Mari, I’m Dimitri Sidorov, one of Stella’s friends. You look a little like her. You know, she’s been waiting a long time for you to join us. We all have. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Mari stared at him, her brown eyes reflecting the glare from Jace’s flashlight. She didn’t speak, but she seemed aware, which was more than she’d been for the past few hours.

  “I’m just going to touch your head now.” He brought up his hands, laying the palms on her cheeks, sliding up to her temples and back into her hairline. She didn’t flinch, but after a moment her eyes closed. “There now,” Dimitri said softly. “The pain is going away. Relax. You poor child.”

  Dimitri remained in that position for much longer than I expected. After a few moments more, Mari let go of her knees and slumped to the side. Dimitri helped her lie down on the bench seat. “Sleep, child. Things will be much better in the morning.” He replaced his hands on her head, his face intent.

  I looked at Jace, who shrugged.

  At last Dimitri withdrew his hands. “I can’t see her thoughts as you and Ava can, but I can feel the wound in her mind.”

  “Can you heal her?”

  “If I had my drugs, it would be easier, but I can still do it. I’ve induced a sleep already. Now I will help her back onto the path.” He reached out and took my hand. “Place your hand on her forehead. Tell me what you see.”

  I scooted closer, closing my eyes and reaching out with my thoughts. Mari’s unconscious mind wasn’t a lake, but a colorful meadow of grasses. I smelled flowers and earth and rain, though the sky was clear. Instead of bubbles, there were floating flowers, each one holding a memory. The more luscious the flower, the more enjoyable the memory. In the middle of the meadow, a deep, ugly gouge marred the beauty, emitting a dark haze that blotted out the brightness. Mari stood there on the edge, nearly falling inside the dark pit. Wilted, foul-smelling memory flowers pushed at her from behind, forcing her ever closer to her doom.

  The ugly gouge had to be a representation that either she or I was creating, a visual representation of her pain and the terror of these past few days. “Should I take the memories?” I asked, telling Dimitri what I saw. I pushed at the memory in the park where she’d almost been raped, and sidestepped the one where she’d watched Ritter cut a man in two during the fight at the palace. Blood red tinged the hazy darkness around us.

  “No,” Dimitri’s voice came to me from far away. “She must deal with them herself. She’ll face worse yet in her life. She needs to grow stronger.” His hands closed over mine, and I felt his strength, both mentally and physically. The gash in the land in front of Mari began to seal. Surprised, I sent the thoughts to Dimitri’s mind.

  “That is my ability,” he said. “I can feel any wound and can lend my strength, healing part of it so that the patient will recover enough to take over healing completely and go forward, leaving either the physical illness or damaging memories in the past. But what an interesting representation.” He didn’t sound surprised, and I guessed that he and Ava had worked together to heal others like Mari. No wonder it was so easy for me to send the images to him.

  Or maybe it was because we shared the same blood.

  “How long until she’s healed?” I asked.

  “I can never be sure. But not long, I suspect. She feels determined to me.”

  Even as I watched, the representation of Mari pushed at one of the foulest memories. Not the one of her husband’s death, but of the one where he betrayed her. She took a step forward, and the meadow in that spot healed even as I watched.

  That’s it, Mari. Be strong.

  She didn’t look my way, which was probably for the best. I walked away from the gloom into the light, the meadow vanishing as I released my touch and opened my eyes. Jace stared at me worriedly. “She’s going to be okay,” I told him.

  He nodded. “I’d better help with the tents. You can stay with her.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” Dimitri said. “I shouldn’t leave her for at least another ten minutes.” Sweat beaded on his forehead, a sure sign of the toll his healing exacted from him.

  There’s always a price. I thought of the exhaustion my own mind had gone through the past few hours. At the same time, my headache wasn’t as bad as I expected. A good sign that I was inching further along in my progress.

  We left Dimitri sitting there with the flashlight in case he needed it. Outside, Cort waited for us, holding a glowing lantern. Next to him stood a lanky, distinguished-looking man with dark graying hair, who looked more like a tennis player than a scientist, except for the slightly hunched shoulders that told of hours peering into a microscope.

  Cort cleared his throat as Ritter and Keene joined us. “This is Dr. Sven Hertenstein,” he said. “He’s a research scientist from Sweden, an expert on autoimmune diseases.” He introduced each of us quickly and then addressed Hertenstein. “Tell them what you told me about your research.”

  “You mean the failed research?” Hertenstein asked in perfect British English. “The side effect?” Even the name sounded ominous. At Cort’s nod, he continued, “As we reported last week, we have created a promising formula. At the very least it will extend your patient’s life, but it may even be the beginning of a cure. However, during the testing several weeks ago, we found something very disturbing. So disturbing that while we made notations about the effect the drug had on our subjects, we didn’t report it to you. My colleague and I felt it better to keep quiet and destroy what we’d made. Since it bore no relation to what we’d been hired to do, we felt it was in everyone’s best interest.”

  I had the feeling he was trying to justify his action rather than get to the point, and I waved my hand impatiently. “What did this drug do exactly?”

  He rubbed his long fingers together nervously, his light-colored eyes glancing from me to Ritter and back again. It was natural that he’d pinpointed Ritter as someone in charge, but I found it interesting that he seemed equally concerned with pleasing me. “It did suppress the immune system as we hoped, but it also suppressed the emotional and physical reactions our body makes when confronted with a moral choice. It causes psychosis. Basically, when given the drug, the patient has no sense of wrong and no ability to tell reality from a dream or, say, a computer game. The result is someone who will take a suggestion and follow it through simply because it sounds interesting. There’s nothing left in the subject’s brain to tell him it might not be a good idea. No stops.”

  His lips thinned as he paused and took a breath. “Let’s put it this way. It would work well for an invading army—if you didn’t mind that your soldiers killed just as many of each other as they did the enemy. It’s untraceable because it imitates the body’s natural immune system. Within hours the patient returns to normal, feeling as if he’s been dreaming.”

  Ritter’s eyes narrowed. “So what you’re saying is if someone got a hold of this drug, they could use a person—any person—as a weapon. An uncontrollable weapon.”

  “But you destroyed it,” I said. It made sense to me why they weren’t excited to report their findings. Destroying the drug was the only moral option.

  The doctor’s face looked gray in the light of the lantern. “Our mistake”—he fumbled on the word—“was that we kept the notes. When the lab was attacked and began burning, we managed to save all our research on that special drive your programmer gave us, including those notes. We also took a large quantity of the base formula we use in our tests. It saves days of preparation and we knew how eager you were to have our new formula. My colleague kept it all with him when we split up because we were afraid I’d be captured when I went to make the call to your people. We planned to meet up later where we live in the forest. It’s a remote enough place that we believed the research would be safe. However, when I got there, he was being forced at gunpoint to leave with those men.”

  “That’s when we showed up,” Cort took over as the scientist lapsed i
nto silence. “We tracked them until our Jeep busted its axle.”

  I frowned. “I hate the idea of the Emporium having access to that drug as much as anyone, but they won’t have time to analyze the data before we catch up to them.”

  Hertenstein shook his head. “You don’t understand. At the lab, they killed our assistants. We only got away because we were at the other end of the building and someone turned on the intercom so we heard much of what was happening. The men who came wanted only to destroy our research. That much was clear. But something changed. I believe the only reason they kept my colleague alive was because he told them about the drug with the side effects.” His head drooped. “I can’t blame him really. The lab . . . the screaming . . . the threats . . . it was horrible.”

  Beside me, Keene shifted, speaking for the first time. “If Justine has that drug, her plan to assassinate the senator would be that much easier. She could grab anyone off the street, a kid or a police officer, and give him the senator’s picture and an assault rifle. No covering up needed on her part. It’d be just another misguided youth who stole a gun and went berserk, or an underpaid cop with a grudge.”

  “That’s right.” Cort met his gaze solemnly. “Even more important, they could use it again and again—in schools, in government buildings, in subways, in meetings between government heads. The Emporium has been trying to create something like this, something untraceable for years. I know for a fact they’ve conducted tests in relation to anti-depression drugs—with some very gruesome results that get politicians across the country arguing about gun control, when in actuality the real culprit is their drug. If they get hold of this formula, it’s the beginning of the end. With mass killings on the table, every government in the world would be forced to make concessions in order to protect their people. I believe the Emporium would take the leverage this drug would give them and announce their existence to the world.”

  That meant they would no longer work from the shadows. They would control everything and everyone.

  “THEN WHAT ARE WE DOING standing here?” I asked. “Darkness or no, we have to find them now. Maybe I can help—if we get close enough.” I’d already cast my mind as far as I could into the jungle and had found nothing except animals.

  Cort shook his head. “Uh,” he said, pausing to clear his throat, “we’ve discussed it thoroughly and we’re reasonably certain the Emporium will test the drug here in Mexico—and probably on Senator Bellars, since they seem to want so badly to kill him. But there is a bit of good news. The drug has an incubation period. Even with the base they stole from the lab, they’ll need eight hours to prepare it. They’ll also have to find supplies and a place to set up a lab. That means only a handful of villages within driving distance, or maybe even Palenque itself. If we wait until light, we can be sure we’re on their trail, especially now that Ritter’s here to track them. What we can’t risk is going past them or the wrong way because then we would find them too late. As far as we can determine, we don’t think they know we’re here.”

  Ritter nodded. “We leave at first light then. I want everyone ready a half hour before.”

  “No.” Keene shook his head. “I understand that we can’t risk losing them, but we have two vehicles. Barring the possibility that they have a secret headquarters, which I admit they might have in some remote village, Palenque is the closest and likeliest place. It’s also where Senator Bellars is. We need to warn him. He’s done too much good to leave his safety to chance. Whether they try out this new drug or go with their original assassination plan, Senator Bellars is still at risk.”

  Ritter’s black eyes glistened and the coiled strength in his body gave the impression he was about to pounce. Silence ticked by, and then he nodded. “You start now for Palenque. We’ll give you enough ammo to protect yourself. Even with how slow you’ll have to drive in the dark, you should make it there in a few hours. It’s pretty much southeast of our current position. You’ll probably need to do some backtracking until you find a good road.”

  Keene nodded, his gaze now going to his brother. “You could come with me.”

  Cort tilted his head as if seriously considering the offer. Finally, he spoke. “They have a large contingent of Unbounded. When we run into them, it’s not going to be pretty. I’d better stay to help. But you’re right that you shouldn’t go alone. You may need backup.” He looked at Ritter, his arched brow a question.

  “We need Dimitri.” Ritter’s gaze hesitated on Jace for the merest instant before passing to me. “Erin, you go. And take Hertenstein and Mari. Stash them in a hotel somewhere before you check on the senator.”

  “What? No way,” I said at the same time Benito whined, “What about me? I want to go.”

  “I’d like to stay,” Hertenstein said. “I can handle a gun.”

  “No, you aren’t trained for combat and we can’t risk losing you.” The way Ritter said it made me think he’d planned a separation all along, though perhaps he wouldn’t have acted until morning, if Keene hadn’t pushed the matter.

  “I’m not going,” I said. I could handle myself in a fight, and I could also tell when we were getting close to the Emporium agents and how many mortals there were versus Unbounded. No way was I going to allow Ritter’s overprotectiveness to endanger the mission.

  He grabbed my arm. “Excuse us a moment. Erin and I are going to have a chat.”

  “Fine.” I pulled from his grasp and stalked toward the trees.

  “Meanwhile,” Ritter called over his shoulder, “one of you better get on the phone and try to reach Ava and see if she can aim the satellites away from this area. The Emporium will have satellite phones, just like us, and it’s only a matter of time until they think of sending an electronic copy of the research back to Emporium headquarters.”

  “Already did that,” Cort said, “except for the one satellite that you were using to find us, and that’s directed away now. We also had a technopath watching for information to come through. He’s still watching. We’re pretty sure they haven’t gotten it out, though there were several calls made from this area, so we have to assume they’ve been in contact with someone here—perhaps to whoever is watching the senator. That means they’ll have a plan. But keep in mind that once they’re closer to town and in range of a cell phone tower, all our eavesdropping and satellite adjusting won’t do any good. We have to catch up to them before then.”

  “We will.” Ritter’s voice was a growl of suppressed anger that sent a shiver crawling across my shoulders.

  I waited for him at the edge of the dirt road. Apparently, that wasn’t far enough, and he passed me, going deeper into the darkness of the jungle.

  “I can help,” I said to his back. “You know that. I don’t care about the senator.” Not exactly true, but he’d get the point.

  Ritter whirled on me, silent and deadly. “You do care about Keene.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I felt compelled to answer. “Of course I do. We’re friends.”

  His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched, as though struggling not to respond. Silence reigned for a moment, except for the croaking call of something in the trees. Ritter glanced back at the faded glow of the lantern. “Your friend Keene will need you to make sure he’s not attacked by more bandits tonight. Or, worse, the Emporium. We have no idea where they are and if Keene should stumble across their camp in the middle of the night, he’ll be dead—no matter how good a fighter he is. Truthfully, I’d rather send Jace, but he’s a little rash. Plus, I’m still not convinced Keene is everything he pretends to be. You, I can trust to keep an eye on him. You’re also familiar with Justine. If she’s behind the attack on the senator, my bet is that she’s not out traipsing through the jungle. Cort said they haven’t seen her, and the sooner we know where she is the better.”

  I hated that he made sense. Justine always made her underlings do the dirty work. Well, anything dirty that required actual work. She stepped in only when she wouldn’t break a fingernail. Regardless,
she always seemed to delight in causing the suffering of others.

  “You know,” I said, scrambling for another excuse to stay, “it could be that Justine’s presence here has nothing to do with the lab or the senator. Maybe she’s here for another reason. Maybe she has something more to hide.”

  “Our missing people you mean? From the New York raid?”

  I felt guilty at the slight hope in his voice. “Well, you didn’t find any other sign of them these past months, did you?” Okay, so I was fishing just a bit.

  “Not a trace. But I had some other—” Breaking off, he looked past me into the night. His expression showed nothing, but this hesitancy wasn’t like him and I was tempted to try to push past his mental shields—not that I’d succeed. His eyes came back to me. “Either way, Keene needs someone to keep an eye on him. He used to work closely with Justine and that makes him suspect.”

  I didn’t want to go with Keene. I wanted to find the research so I could take it back to Stella. I wanted to give her and Bronson another chance. “Maybe you’re just trying to get rid of me so you can have your revenge,” I said. “Kill as many of the Emporium as you can.”

  He was next to me so fast that I didn’t see him move. He looked mean and angry, but his dark eyes also showed something more. Something I might translate as hurt if I didn’t know better. “This isn’t about revenge. It’s about getting those files. I know how important your ability can be, but for a fight, I need the others more.” He paused for several seconds before adding. “Besides, you are also too important to lose. You and Ava are the only sensing Unbounded the Renegades have left.”

  “I don’t need your protection.” I had half a mind to pull my new machete and try it out on him, though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. He’d know it was coming and counter the move.

  He’d know it was coming. So would Jace. And while Dimitri and Cort weren’t gifted in combat, their many years of practice made them more valuable in a fight than I could hope to be for years. I had to believe that for Ritter the mission was everything, even above his thirst for revenge or his desire to protect me. Unfortunately, that meant sending me with Keene really was his best plan. Maybe he wasn’t trying to protect me or make me pay for being angry at him.