by Jade Kerrion
The pounding against the door started seconds later, but Danyael tuned it out. He lowered Amanda to the tiled floor. Her pulse fluttered. Blood trickled out of her mouth. The flaring panic in her eyes faded into glassy blue. She was out of time.
He did not hesitate.
His mutant powers wove through her broken, bleeding body. He curled over her, swallowing a groan of pain, as his empathic powers eased fragmented bones out of her punctured lungs. Darkness lowered like a translucent veil across his eyes. Can't...take much more. Deliberately, carefully, he pulled back, pausing to catch his breath. He heard the dull thud of muscled flesh against steel, and he glanced over his shoulder. The steel door was dented, its structural integrity weakened. The pounding continued. The dent deepened.
I have to finish this.
He braced himself as his healing powers unfurled once more. Blackness inched across his vision. The searing pain he absorbed from her was muted by the chill of encroaching death, but he continued to pour his energy into her until she gasped and drew in a deep breath. Relief flooded him. She would live.
Sick and exhausted, Danyael released Amanda. He collapsed onto his back, closed his eyes, and shifted his focus to a desperate battle to stay alive. The rhythmic pounding against the steel door faded into white noise. The erratic beating of his heart was all he could hear. Dimly he was aware of Amanda and Reyes moving around the infirmary. He caught fragments of their conversation, "Window...only way..." but he could not find the strength to care. Just breathe...and again...and once more...
The sound of shattering glass yanked him out of his world of private pain. His eyes flicked open. The dent in the door had become an opening. On the other side of the door, muscled hands tugged at the jagged shards of steel, pushing and pulling, expanding the hole.
"Jump, Reyes," Amanda ordered. "They'll catch you."
Amanda pushed Reyes out of the broken window. The old man hovered in mid-air, presumably supported by telekinetics, before he was lowered gently to the ground. Amanda ran back to Danyael, wrapped her arms around his chest, and dragged him to the window. Teeth gritted against pain, nausea, and vertigo, Danyael leaned against Amanda when she pulled him to his feet.
"We have to go!" She threw a frantic glance at the door. A super soldier coiled its body and eased one limb and then another through the opening. Slowly it uncurled to its full height, eight feet of pure muscle, trained strength, and instinctive viciousness.
Amanda lunged for the window, Danyael right behind her.
The creature pounced. Its arms snaked out, seizing both Amanda and Danyael by their shoulders.
With the remnants of his strength, Danyael shoved Amanda away from the super soldier. The impact wrenched her shoulder out of the creature's grip. Her gasp became a shriek as she tumbled out of the window.
The super soldier yanked Danyael back and swung him around. The creature's brutish features twisted with anger and hate. Its lips curled into a silent snarl. Its muscles bunched, and it flung Danyael away. The impact with the wall slammed the air out of his lungs. He tumbled to the ground, stunned and disoriented.
Other super soldiers entered the infirmary as the creature lumbered over to him. It picked him up as easily as a child would pick up a rag doll. Its clawed hand drew back, poised to rip out his throat.
A low warning growl from the entrance of the infirmary halted the execution. The creature dropped Danyael to the floor, and with its companions, it clustered around a super soldier that had entered the room. That super soldier looked no different from other others, except for a wound on its right cheek that dripped blood. It was the soldier Amanda had injured, the one Danyael had blasted unconscious before racing after Reyes. It stalked into the infirmary and knelt beside the super soldier who had injured Reyes. The latter, too, had begun to stir.
Danyael felt the warmth of a body hunker beside him. With gentleness that surprised Danyael, the super soldier turned Danyael's face so that it could see his right cheek. Danyael was too dazed to tremble when a finger traced the almost invisible scar that cut across his face, from cheekbone to chin.
Another super soldier hooted softly, picking up Danyael's left hand. The scar on Danyael's cheek and his misshapen left hand were both injuries from his childhood, older than his memories.
The leader of the super soldiers grunted an acknowledgment. It sniffed the air over Danyael's body, and then with a sharp tug, ripped the left leg of Danyael's denim jeans off. Claws cut through the athletic tape and bandages around Danyael's left leg without leaving a mark on his skin. Danyael felt the brush of air against the puckered scabs that scored the length of his leg from hip to knee.
Why were the super soldiers investigating his injuries? Their hostility melted into curiosity. Their compassion bordered on empathy.
They were not the vicious predators he had expected.
Their heads snapped up, and they looked toward the door.
After a moment, Danyael heard what they had heard, the sound of booted feet racing toward the infirmary.
Their anger and hate flashed back into focus. How much of their seemingly natural viciousness were reflections of their interactions with the most vicious predator of all---humans?
If they fought, they would die, as would the soldiers from the Mutant Assault Group. Danyael placed his hand on the lead super soldier. The bestial face was a blur, but he could sense its dark eyes on him. He forced the words out in a fading whisper. "It's all right. They're just here to take you back home."
Resistance coiled around them, a hardened shell.
Danyael could not focus his empathic powers enough to use them. In that moment, he had nothing except words. "You don't have to die. No one else has to get hurt."
Their quiet, mocking disbelief echoed like raucous laughter.
Footsteps drew closer. Time trickled like sand down an hourglass, irretrievably lost. An impossible fight loomed closer. In a few moments, it would be inevitable.
In desperation, Danyael offered the only promise he could give. "I can help you. Let me."
Time passed, precious seconds ticking down.
Their silent indecision gave way to agreement. The other super soldiers clustered around their leader. The lead super soldier gathered Danyael up in its arms and carried him from the infirmary. The movement churned nausea through Danyael's stomach; each heavy step rattled pain through his aching skull.
The super soldiers stalked down the corridor toward the approaching Mutant Assault Group teams.
"Halt!" ordered a young voice, brimming over with confusion. Behind him, two full teams, forty soldiers in all, watched wide-eyed.
The lead super soldier carefully transferred Danyael into the supporting arms of two assault group soldiers. On the verge of blackout, Danyael managed a final order. "Just...take them back to their barracks."
"Yes, sir."
The assault group soldiers stepped aside to flank the super soldiers and escorted them down the stairwell.
Urgency replaced confusion. "Are you all right, sir?" the young soldier asked.
Danyael shook his head. He closed his eyes.
"Let me look at him," Carson's familiar voice ordered. Moments passed. "He's got a concussion, and a bad one at that. Take him to the infirmary. Someone clean up the blood and the glass. Hannah, start Danyael on fluids and two milligrams of hydromorphone---"
The soldiers carried Danyael to a clean bed. The conversations around him faded into indistinct murmurs. Movement blurred into white. He lost consciousness moments later with his shivering hand nestled in Reyes's warm grip and Amanda's cool hand gentle against his fevered brow.
~*~
Two days later, still weak and unsteady on his feet, Danyael made his way back to the arena. A training session was supposedly in progress. Five alpha telepaths clustered at the edges of the sand-covered arena while the super soldiers paced in the center. The glances they threw at their trainers were contemptuous. The general and his aides occupied front-row seats around
the arena. Reyes was with them.
"Danyael." The general rose from his seat. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I..." Danyael's dark gaze darted past the general's shoulder, briefly meeting Reyes's eyes. "I would like to be a part of your program, if you'll still have me."
"Sit, Danyael." General Howard gestured to the chair beside him. "What inspired your change of heart?"
Danyael did not sit. Awkwardly balanced on his crutch, he said, "You need me, and it's something I can do to help." Besides, I made a promise to the super soldiers. "I was wrong not to give the program a chance."
Reyes shot to his feet. Danyael almost lost his balance when Reyes seized him, hugging him tight. "I'm proud of you, Danyael," Reyes's voice, pitched low and rough with emotion, said in his ear. "It takes guts to admit you're wrong and to do something about it. Coming out here doesn't make you a killer. It's not about diverging paths. It's not about choosing one path over the other, once and for all time. It's about accepting everything about who you are, and knowing that each time you act, you get to make a choice. That's freedom. That's true freedom."
When Reyes pulled away, Danyael inhaled what felt like his first clean breath of air in a long time.
In the arena, the alpha telepaths called off the training session and with some difficulty, ordered the intractable super soldiers back to their barracks. "Can I see them?" Danyael asked the general.
"Yes. The research annex is just down that way. You can see them from the observation booths overlooking their barracks."
"No, I want to be in there. With them. Alone."
"No." The general's reply was immediate and firm. "I can't let you do that, Danyael. It's too dangerous."
"If I'm to lead them, I need to know them. Empathy is most powerful where there is mutual understanding."
The general shook his head. "You can meet them in the arena. We can protect you there."
"They consider the arena hostile territory. It's not going to work."
"Danyael, do you have any idea what you're asking? No one has ever done this."
"Maybe that's why you haven't made as much progress as you hoped. I spent the past few weeks researching training programs for humans and for animals. The super soldiers are hybrids. Brute force---which is what you're doing by using alpha telepaths to control their minds---hasn't worked. We have to try something else, and we might as well start by meeting them on their terms where they feel safest, in their barracks."
"We can't protect you in there."
Danyael chuckled, the sound low and humorless. "I can protect myself."
The general and Reyes exchanged a long look. Reyes reached out and touched Danyael's hand. "Are you sure you've thought this through?"
"You don't have to prove anything," the general added.
Danyael nodded. "I know. I'm trying to play this as safe as I know how."
"You don't define 'safe' the way anyone else defines it." The general scowled and then pushed to his feet. "Come this way."
The short trip down the brightly lit corridors to the research annex felt as grim as a march on Death Row. The general finally paused outside a steel door. He held his security key card over the panel. The red light glowing on the panel flashed to amber. It awaited only the general's personal clearance.
The general looked at Danyael. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
The general leaned forward into the eye scanner. Moments later, the amber light changed to green and the door slid open. Beyond the first door was a short corridor, blocked off by another steel door. "That door won't open until this one is sealed," the general said. "It's a security measure we put in place to keep the super soldiers from entering the rest of the compound. The door is remotely controlled, and the barracks are monitored. When you're ready to leave, just say so, and we'll open that door for you."
Danyael nodded. He adjusted his single crutch, shifted his weight, and limped forward. The first door slid shut behind him. When the lock slammed into place, the second door opened.
He straightened his shoulders and stepped into the super soldier barracks.
Ten heads pivoted toward him.
Danyael waited. The first move had to be theirs. His empathic awareness swept through the large enclosure, teasing apart the minute differences that separated wariness from hostility. He could not afford to be caught unawares, but neither did he want to overreact.
Minutes passed in silence. They stared at him, the distance of a few feet that separated them seemingly as vast as the Grand Canyon. A super soldier with a scab on his right cheek finally prowled forward. He was even larger than Danyael's dazed memories of him---eight and a half feet of muscle that perfectly combined brute strength with agile speed.
Danyael inclined his head.
The super soldier stared at Danyael and something flashed through his eyes. More than recognition, more than acceptance, the super soldier's emotions teetered close to approval. The super soldier grunted a greeting, turned his back on Danyael, and returned to his companions.
The acknowledgment, casually offered, was loaded with emotions too precious to put into words. The wariness that hung over the room dissipated like morning mist.
Danyael's dark eyes widened. If the super soldier's approval had surprised him, the super soldier's trust humbled him.
Slowly Danyael sank to sit by the door. He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaned his head against the wall, and relaxed, smiling as he watched them play.
~*~
When Danyael limped out of the barracks an hour later, the general, his aides, and Reyes were waiting for him. Reyes reached him even before the outer doors had fully closed. The old man shook his head and pulled Danyael into a hug. His voice was rough, choked with emotion. "You took years off my life. What were you doing in there?"
Danyael closed his eyes as the warmth of Reyes's emotions surrounded him. Tension flowed out of the taut muscles in his shoulders and back. One friendship could make all the difference in the world, he reflected with equal parts of gratitude for it, and bitterness that he needed it.
The general strode up to Danyael. "What's your assessment of the super soldiers?"
"Physically, the super soldiers are mature, but mentally and emotionally, they're not. They're children, trying to figure out their world. They are more curious than violent."
"But the professor---"
"The soldiers' strength, agility, and speed come from animal genes, but a mature lion is cautious and wary. It doesn't attack anything and everything it sees. The apparent lack of impulse control in the super soldiers comes from the fact that they're little more than toddlers. They are unaware of their own strength, and their curious exploration of the world comes across to us as violence. When we respond with violence, they become afraid and strike back. We conditioned their violence. We made them what they are."
The general shook his head. "That's impossible."
"General, I spent weeks reviewing Professor's Sadgati's research, but learned more about the super soldiers by spending an hour in there with them. What they did two days ago supports my belief that---"
The general's blue eyes were intent on Danyael. "And what exactly do you think they did two days ago?"
"They spared my life."
"Because you spared theirs. I read Major Chandler's report. You could have killed them with your emotional pain, but you knocked them out with physical pain instead. Why?"
"Because murder should never be the first weapon in your arsenal," Danyael retorted. He gritted his teeth as he tried to restrain his anger. "You and the professor were right about one thing: the alpha telepaths can't pull this off. Children need emotional connection. You need alpha empaths." He glanced at the closed door of the enclosure. "You asked me to train them, and that's my appraisal of the situation."
"So what are you planning to do now?"
Danyael knew that the general was asking about his plans for training the super soldiers, but he eva
ded the question. Instead, he said, "You have four other barracks, right? I need to see the other super soldiers too."
"Not tonight," the general said. "You get a good night's sleep, and you can see the others tomorrow. We'll give you security access to the barracks so that you can enter whenever you wish. I ask only that you let the central command station know when you plan to go in, so that they can monitor the situation."
Danyael nodded.
"Meanwhile," the general continued, "Jana is very concerned about your lack of physical progress. She says you haven't been eating or sleeping well for months. If you're going to take on the challenge of training the super soldiers, you need to be in top form."
"I know. It'll be better, I promise."
Reyes patted Danyael on his back. "Let's get dinner now, and you can call it an early night."
Ten minutes later, they were seated at their regular table in the cafeteria. "Been a while," Reyes said as he started on his minestrone soup. "The last time we had a meal together was two months ago, the day the super soldiers turned on their trainers and killed them."
Danyael knew all too well. He hadn't had a full meal since.
"How have you been doing?" Reyes asked.
Danyael looked up. "Don't you know?"
Reyes flushed.
Danyael turned his face away, heartache roiling through him. It was one thing to know, intellectually, that he was being manipulated. It was another to receive confirmation of it. It hurt, even though he had justified his final decision to work with the super soldiers as inevitable, given his lack of long-term options.
Reyes said quietly, "Danyael, I'm sorry."
"I know."
"But you're still angry."
"Not with you."
"With the general?"
Danyael shook his head. "With myself, for being susceptible to emotional blackmail. I don't know if I would have chosen any differently, eventually, but it leaves a bitter taste to know that I got here this way."
Reyes nodded. "I understand. I would feel the same if I were in your position." The old man's shoulders slumped as he slowly gathered his tray and pushed to his feet.
