“Speaking of which, there is absolutely some serious tension going on between the Faulties and the Perfects,” Hansa said. Her observation wasn’t entirely new to us, but it confirmed what we’d been suspecting since we’d first met Isda and Abaddon. “The Faulties are no longer the apple of Daddy’s eyes, huh?”
I nodded. “It’s bad enough they were taught to be subservient, but now they’re below their own brothers and sisters,” I replied. “At least back in the day, before the stasis, it was just Ta’Zan and his Faulties. As isolated as they were, they were a family. The Faulties were at the top of the food chain, superior to the Draenir, smarter and stronger than anyone else. Then, the Perfects were created and given the top spot. It can’t sit well with all of them.”
“I agree,” Vivienne chimed in. “Even with all the conditioning and training, all animals carry this territorial gene that makes them possessive and competitive. I doubt Ta’Zan found a way to stifle that. I’m willing to bet that if we drill hard enough, we’ll get the Faulties to admit they’re miserable in this arrangement. From there on, it’ll require additional work to get them to rebel, for them to reclaim their spots in this new society.”
“That’s the hardest part,” I said. “Getting them to act. I see how the Faulties and Perfects look at each other. I imagine it’s only a matter of time before we get Isda or Monos to tell us they’re miserable. It’s already written on their faces, whenever they bring in our food. But to convince them to do something about it? That’s the challenge.”
“I’m with Vivienne on this,” Jax replied. “It’s in our nature to act when our territory is threatened. Consider it a form of fight-or-flight, I suppose. The Faulties spent centuries serving Ta’Zan, worshipping him, and living as the superior lifeforms. Now, all of a sudden, they’re inferior because they’re not as powerful or physically beautiful as the Perfects? Man, I’d blow a fuse over that.”
I glanced around the hall, noticing the expressions of our many surviving GASP friends and allies. There was a mixture of concern, fear, and anger weighing down their shoulders. It broke my heart to see them like this, pinned down by the same type of helplessness that had been eating away at me, too. But I was also happy to see they were alive. They still had a shot at this, unlike those who had perished in the fleet attack.
“Okay, then we’re good to go with what we’ve discussed,” I concluded. “Out of the three Faulties we get to interact with, I think Monos may be easiest to break. Isda would come second, but she is more responsive to females, if you’ve noticed. Amal is the most important one, but also the most difficult nut to crack. I say we work on them in teams. I’m happy to take on Monos, and I’m sure Jovi and Varga will want to help, since they both got to meet him before being brought into the dome.”
Jovi and Varga looked at each other, then at me, and grinned.
“Totally on board with you on this one,” Varga replied.
“Monos was very concerned with my wellbeing and survival as I was being wheeled in the other day,” Jovi said. “He’s quite careful and is more open than Isda, that’s for sure. He dropped a few minor comments about the Faulties during the last feeding, too. He mentioned something about the Perfects being too prissy to perform menial tasks such as his. I couldn’t help but chuckle. He liked that. I think he craves validation. It might be a good angle to use on him.”
“Thanks, Jovi,” I said, taking it all in. “You’re right. Definitely a good approach for the next feeding.”
“And what about Isda?” Sofia asked. “Shall I talk to her? She seemed more open with me, indeed. And with Claudia,” she added, looking at Varga’s grandmother. “Want to help?”
Claudia’s smirk was eerily similar to Varga’s—devilish and playful, predicting nothing but mischief. That trait ran in their family. “Of course, honey,” she replied. “We’ll melt Isda in no time.”
“What about Amal?” Lucas sighed. “Who takes her on?”
“I think we should try to get Isda and Monos first. They know Amal well enough to give us some advice on how to rope her in,” I explained. “It might be safer this way. Ta’Zan is extremely clever. He’ll probably suspect that we’ll try the verbal approach, given the catastrophic failure of our fleet. Surely, he’s pleased to see us calm and obedient, but he’s definitely aware that we’re not done fighting yet.”
The hall’s double doors opened, cutting our conversation short. It was time for another feeding. Isda and Monos pushed large carts into the hall, accompanied by two other Faulties. Each of the carts’ shelves was loaded with food platters and pitchers of water, as well as blood reserves for us vampires and Maras.
Something was different, this time. Joining the Faulties inside the dome were four Perfect guards, who assumed positions on both sides of the double doors, watching Isda, Monos, and the other two like hawks as they came toward us with the food. I suspected it had something to do with what I’d said earlier. Ta’Zan was maybe trying to make sure we didn’t get too cozy and friendly with his Faulties.
I nodded at Sofia, giving the Perfect guards a quick sideways glance. Sofia winked at me in return, then discreetly motioned for Jax, Hansa, Anjani, and the others in our crew to get up and move around, obscuring the guards’ view. Isda was headed her way.
I kept Jovi and Varga by my side, while Xavier, Vivienne, Lucas, Kailyn, Cameron, Liana, Ibrahim, and Corrine stood up and proceeded to shield Monos from the Perfects’ line of sight. Claudia and Yuri expertly snuck into Sofia’s cluster, as we kicked our plan into motion.
“How’ve you been?” I asked Monos, just as he offered me a bottle of fresh blood. He then filled a couple of bowls with grilled food and fruits for Jovi and Varga.
“Just fine,” Monos replied absently as he prepared more food and blood for the other prisoners.
They all started to gather around us, completely cutting the guards’ views off. One quick look at the Perfects, and I could tell that they were frustrated. Next time, Ta’Zan could send in more guards and maybe even reorganize the feeding process, making it more difficult for us to actually talk to Monos and Isda. This was our only shot at getting Monos and Isda closer to our side—at least for the time being.
“Monos, what’s up with the guards?” Jovi asked. “We’ve got these dumb collars on, anyway. It’s not like we’re going to try and attack you.”
“Not that we would, anyway,” Varga chimed in, eating some of the food in his bowl. “You’re one of the cool guys.”
Monos looked up at Varga, then smirked and continued to serve food.
“Thank you, I suppose,” he murmured, then lowered his voice even more. “The guards are here to stop us from fraternizing with the prisoners. Father doesn’t want us to get too close.”
“Called it,” I replied dryly. “Doesn’t he trust you?”
“I don’t think he trusts you,” Monos said, smiling.
“Hm… I doubt that,” Varga intervened. “If Ta’Zan didn’t think you to be weak enough to let yourselves be influenced by us, he wouldn’t have sent the guards in to keep an eye on you.”
Monos glanced around, noticing how we’d closed ranks around him, obstructing the guards’ view of him. “Father was right. You people are very clever.”
“True, but so are you. Which is why I’m surprised that you’re not offended by the presence of these guards, in the first place,” I said. “I’d be furious.”
Monos shrugged, then served Xavier a bottle of blood. “I guess. But what can I do?”
“I didn’t say you should do anything. But you should at least be honest with yourself about how you feel. Your own father doesn’t trust you. He thinks you’re easy targets for us, the very inferior creatures he wishes to eliminate altogether. What does that say about you?” I asked.
That hit him deep. His expression shifted from slightly amused to bewildered, as the entire concept sank in. A second later, his brow furrowed, but he continued to serve food.
“Honestly, Monos, I don’t get why you
all let the Perfects push you around like they do.” Jovi sighed, then scarfed the rest of his food down.
Varga swiftly took the lead from him. “You’re all intelligent and powerful, fast and ridiculously strong. I mean, sure, you don’t have the pretty wings and whatever, but it doesn’t make you inferior. You have the same rights. Why do you get to be treated like idiots now, when the Perfects are obviously the ones in need of additional education?”
Monos was fascinated, and he didn’t bother to hide his interest. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, look at this,” Varga replied, pointing at himself, then Monos and me, then the hundreds of supernaturals surrounding us. “The guards should have the presence of mind to stop this from happening. We’re talking right now, you and I. Technically speaking, we’re fraternizing. Pretty poor job they’re doing.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Monos sighed. “I wouldn’t be able to help you with anything, anyway. I don’t have high-level access. I’m just a servant.”
I shook my head slowly. “Is that what you want to be your whole life? A servant for Perfects who don’t give a rat’s ass about you, Monos? Have you never experienced happiness?”
Monos seemed confused. He blinked several times, as if wrapping his head around the concept.
“Happiness? What’s… happiness?” he asked.
“Monos!” One of the Perfects’ voices thundered across the dome, startling Monos. “Keep moving and finish your job!”
Monos did as ordered, even though he couldn’t see the Perfect who had spoken. However, his voice alone had been enough to kick Monos into gear. He was practically quivering with fear as he pushed the cart away and lost himself in the crowd of prisoners.
Varga moved to go after him, but I caught his arm. “Don’t,” I said. “He’s heard enough, for now.”
“But we were just getting him warmed up,” Varga protested.
“Nah, Derek’s right,” Jovi replied. “If we insist, Monos will know we’re trying to sway him. We want him to come to us next. Give him some time. He will.”
“How do you know?” Varga asked.
“He’s got that look in his eyes,” Jovi breathed, staring at Monos as his head moved farther away in the crowd. “He wants to know what happiness is. And we’re going to give him all the details.”
For the time being, we had Monos right where we wanted him. The Faulty kept glancing at us over his shoulder. I could see the glimmer in his yellow eyes, too. The wonder and the curiosity. We were presenting him with thoughts he’d never had before. Soon enough, his mind would be soft and ripe enough for us to plant the first proper seeds of doubt.
This was only the beginning.
Sofia
The Perfect guards hadn’t expected us to gather around the Faulties so quickly. They didn’t intervene, except verbally—by berating Monos. It bought me a couple of minutes with Isda, though. I followed her through the crowd, accompanied by Claudia and the others, who obstructed the Perfects’ view of her.
“Isda, the guards are here to make sure you don’t talk to us, aren’t they?” I asked, knowing that Derek had just had the same conversation with Monos. Isda nodded slowly, then handed me a bottle of fresh blood. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
“Why would it be odd?” Isda replied. “Father doesn’t want you poisoning our minds.”
“How could we? You’re an intelligent creature, Isda. You all are. Why do you allow Ta’Zan and the Perfects to make you feel like you’re anything less than that?” I retorted, genuinely irritated.
She shrugged. She was going to think about this later—my instinct for predicting people’s behavior never failed me. Even though they were engineered in a lab, the Faulties were perfectly capable of emotions. And no one was immune to doubt, especially a creature like Isda, who’d been knocked from her position in this world to make room for her arrogant and more advanced brothers and sisters.
“I’m curious, Isda, what was it like before?” Claudia asked her, then gave her a thankful nod and accepted a bottle of fresh blood.
“Before what? Before stasis?” Isda replied, frowning slightly.
“Yes. What was life like for the Faulties?”
“It was good,” Isda said, the shadow of a smile fluttering across her face. “Even when the Draenir started coming around, desperate for a cure, we stayed strong. We were together, just us and Ta’Zan.”
“And now? Is it better?” I asked.
I caught her off guard, and she instinctively shook her head in response. Upon realizing that, her eyes widened with shock, but Claudia didn’t give her time to dwell on it or walk back on her gesture.
“What about Amal and her sister, Amane?” she inquired. “What’s so special about them that makes them so important to Ta’Zan?”
Isda had mentioned Amane before, though only in passing—Amal’s twin sister. We’d not had the chance to further discuss it, until now.
“Amal and Amane have a unique bond,” Isda explained. “They’re the first and only biological twins. Their genetically modified embryo split in the artificial womb. They were a thing of wonder… Thing is, they’re incredibly smart and capable when they’re together. It’s like they operate at 100 percent capacity. Once you tear them apart, their performance is reduced. On their own, they’re dimmed. Still, even separated from her sister, Amal is a force to be reckoned with. She supports Father with some of the medical and administrative tasks. Father wants Amane back, though, so he can have his genius twins back at full capacity.”
“His operations depend on Amal and Amane being reunited?” I asked.
“I think so. I’m not sure,” Isda replied. “I’m not privy to such information.”
Claudia raised an eyebrow, her gaze fixed on Isda as she offered Yuri a bottle of blood. “Amane left, didn’t she?”
Isda nodded again. “Yes. She was an anomaly, from that point of view.”
“How so?” I replied.
“Well, shortly after the awakening, some of my brothers and sisters were deemed too volatile and violent to be a part of the new world that my father wanted to create,” Isda said. “They were ejected and left behind before we moved to this location. Father didn’t have the heart to kill them. He thought nature would sort things out for him. Amane, on the other hand, chose to leave. She ran away, and Father is still looking to get her back.”
As I processed the information, I wondered if Ben, Rose, and their team had met any of the ejected Faulties along the way.
“There’s a group of outsiders like you out there, you know,” Isda added. “I’m sure your friends here told you about them.” She nodded at Hansa and Jax.
It was my turn to nod. “Two of them are my children,” I replied, my voice low and shaky.
Isda couldn’t help but smile. “Then you’ve raised them well,” she said. “They’ve been giving the Perfects a run for their money out there. Father wants them all captured alive and brought here, but they keep escaping.”
My heart swelled with pride upon hearing that. I could almost imagine Ben and Rose fighting the Perfects and leading their team closer to our location. I ached to see them again—ideally while they staged a jailbreak to get us out of here.
“Why are you telling us all this?” Claudia asked her.
Isda chuckled softly. “No reason whatsoever. I just think you deserve to know, since they’re your people.”
“That’s very kind of you, Isda. Again, it puts you at odds with your Perfect siblings. How are they so cruel and vicious, when you’re so kind?” I murmured.
“I don’t know, Sofia. I suppose it’s just not in my nature to engage in deception and secrecy,” Isda replied gently as she started passing food bowls around to the other prisoners.
“What else do you know about the group of outsiders?” Claudia asked.
“The Perfects send reports every six hours,” Isda said. “The latest one said that they managed to form an alliance with one or two ejected Faulties. It gave the
m a bit of an edge against the Perfects. But I don’t know how much longer they can keep this up. My winged siblings have greater stamina, and they’re very determined, by nature.”
“My Elonora is on that crew,” Claudia breathed, and looked away, temporarily distracted by the thought of her grandchild in such danger.
Isda watched her with concern glimmering in her eyes. “Your daughter?”
“My granddaughter. Her brother is here,” Claudia replied, nodding at Varga, who was busy talking to Jovi and Derek. “Families belong together, Isda. And they all deserve to live.”
Isda sighed, then lowered her gaze, as if already guessing where this conversation was going. We’d implanted the wisps of doubt, and it was going to take a few hours for them to set in and stretch out through her consciousness. It was time to once again address the concept of mass murder and genocide—which was exactly what Ta’Zan planned to do, once he figured out space travel and had a big enough army of Perfects.
We could still do something about that, even as prisoners. One look at Claudia was enough for me to know that we were both on the same page. Isda could very well become our trump card, if we played the game right.
Claudia
Isda seemed to look at me with renewed interest. I’d already noticed the warm glow in her eyes whenever we mentioned our family, but this time it was slightly different. I had a feeling that she was somehow personally invested in this, especially where Rose and Ben’s crew was concerned.
“Ta’Zan wants to bring them all to you. That should make you happy,” Isda said. “If only they didn’t put up such a fight.”
“My granddaughter and her friends were raised like us,” I replied. “They cherish freedom and independence more than anything, and they do their damned best to make sure everyone else gets those things as well. I’m sorry that you were never taught this… that you were never given the freedom you deserve.”
A Shade of Vampire 63: A Jungle of Rogues Page 5
