Perfect Weapon

by Jade Kerrion

  "No, don't go," Danyael said, his voice scarcely louder than a whisper. "You could have been killed two days ago. Amanda too. I'm doing this for you, both of you. I can keep you safe."

  Reyes lowered himself into his seat. "Even after everything you know I did to you..."

  Danyael looked away.

  "Danyael, look at me."

  He braced himself before raising his head to meet Reyes's gaze.

  Reyes looked old and tired. "I'm sorry you ever thought that there was a price to pay for my friendship. There isn't. Can we start over?"

  The crushing pressure against Danyael's chest relaxed enough to allow him to draw a deep breath of air. "Yes."

  "Thank you," Reyes's smile wavered. He blinked hard, his eyes glistening.

  Danyael inhaled deeply. Experience had taught him not to place his hope in others, but his yearning heart checked his cynical mind. I've made my choice. It's time to stop doubting and start living again.

  ~*~

  Kieran Howard looked up as the door of his office opened. "Reyes, come in. Sit." He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. The old man sat. Kieran, however, chose to stand. "How is Danyael doing?"

  "He turned in early. He's tired, though he never complains. He knows what we---what I have been doing to him, emotionally isolating him---"

  "Really? What did he say?"

  "He acknowledged the inevitability of his decision. I think he would have come to the same place eventually, just not soon enough."

  "He didn't spend the past two months sulking, though. Did he talk about the research he did on Sadgati's work?"

  "Yes. It appears to have been quite thorough. He referred to work spanning several decades in psychology, cognitive science, sociology, and zoology, including behavioral ecology and ethology." Reyes shrugged. "We've underestimated him. Most people who look at him never get past the fact that he looks like an angel, and those who do, don't make it past the aura of mystery associated with his empathic powers. We forget, to our detriment, that Danyael is also extremely bright."

  "I've never underestimated Danyael's intelligence," Kieran retorted. "When Lucien found Danyael, the physicians thought Danyael was mentally disabled. At twelve, he couldn't read---he barely knew the alphabet---but six years later, he was accepted, on his own merits, to Harvard University, and then four years after that to the Johns Hopkins Medical School. All he needed was a chance, and Lucien gave it to him. Emotionally, Danyael may be a wreck, but there is nothing wrong with the way his brain works. Also, let's not forget who his father is; Rakehell is nothing short of brilliant."

  "Then you think Danyael's right in his assessment of the super soldiers?"

  Kieran remained silent for several moments. "Very likely, yes. Sadgati herself indicated that emotions were the key to controlling the super soldiers. Who better to understand their emotions than an alpha empath? Danyael has no reason to lie to us."

  "And you're going to let him persist in his insane plan to win the confidence of the super soldiers by sitting alone, unprotected, in their barracks all day?"

  "As long as Danyael can protect himself, I'm willing to let him try whatever he has in mind My telepaths are out of their league. They even have trouble sensing the super soldiers---something to do with the fact that their minds are not entirely human."

  "Are you saying that the super soldiers are psychic ghosts?"

  "In much the same way that most telepaths don't pick up on the presence of animals. Telepaths aren't trained to do so."

  Reyes frowned. "The super soldiers must be particularly susceptible to telekinetics then, especially since their minds aren't sophisticated enough to resist manipulation."

  Kieran leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. "Animals, like unshielded humans and inanimate objects, are susceptible to telekinetics, but only if the telekinetic is mentally capable of picking it up. A housecat is susceptible to most telekinetics, but only the most powerful alphas will be able to pick up a six-hundred-pound lion. The super soldiers range from three hundred to three hundred and fifty pounds. An average telekinetic wouldn't be able to move them. Most of my alphas can't move them."

  "So the telepaths and telekinetics can't do anything to the super soldiers, but the weakest of the mutants---the empath---can?"

  "Ironic, isn't it, how much more powerful emotions can be, under the right circumstances? At any rate, my telepaths have had their shot at it. We'll give the alpha empath a chance now."

  Reyes nodded. "As long as he's not at risk."

  "Danyael is too precious, too rare, to be put at risk, but I'm surprised to hear you say it. Are you growing attached to him?"

  Reyes steepled his hands beneath his chin. "It's hard not to. Once you get past the repulsive effect of his psychic shields, it's clear that Danyael is a remarkable and compelling young man. I wish..."

  "You wish?"

  Reyes shook his head. "Nothing. It's not important."

  "I will not put Danyael at risk, Reyes. I promise you."

  Reyes nodded, though he said nothing. He stood and shuffled out of Kieran's office.

  Whether or not the old man truly agreed or was merely playing along, Kieran could not tell. It was not important, either way. Danyael had come around.

  Kieran had never been closer to realizing his vision. How many more lives will be saved? His gaze drifted toward the framed photograph of a young man in uniform that dominated the wall directly across from his desk. John, Tim, you and all those alpha telepaths who died did not die for nothing. We have Danyael. Kieran closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell on a breath of relief and gratitude. We finally have Danyael.

  Kieran knew, though, to be cautious. He pulled up Danyael's file on his computer, and after several moments of careful consideration, he added a single line to it. Far more powerful than anticipated. Kieran had sown the wind; now he had to pray he would not reap the whirlwind.

  ~*~

  Danyael had just turned off his bedroom lights when a soft knock sounded on the door. Slowly, his body aching, he dragged himself out of his bed and went to the door. He swung it open and blinked in surprise. "Amanda?"

  She leaned against the doorframe and smiled up at him. "I heard that you signed up for the super soldier program today."

  He nodded.

  "Thank you. I'm so glad." She paused for a beat and then stepped forward into his personal space.

  With a sigh, he stepped back to allow her into his suite.

  She slipped in past him, spun around, and grinned at him. "Okay, so you're not completely clueless. How are you doing?"

  "I'll be all right."

  "You ever get tired of saying that?"

  "No. Just let me know when you're sick of hearing it."

  "You look tired."

  "It's been a long day." Perhaps she would take the hint and leave.

  She shrugged. "That excuse doesn't exempt you from smiling."

  "Major, I need to rest."

  Amanda winced. "Ouch. You really do know how to disappoint a girl."

  "It's not personal."

  "Men always say that before they break your heart." She didn't look heartbroken, and neither did she seem inclined to leave. "When was the last time you were in a relationship?"

  "Why?"

  "Because you seem out of practice, way out of practice." Amanda glided around him, stroking a finger lightly across the breadth of his shoulders. "You're very tense."

  He spun around, catching her wrists in his hands. "Stop."

  "When I've finally gotten a reaction from you? I don't think so."

  Danyael gritted his teeth. "This isn't a joke."

  She shook her head slightly, blond hair swaying. "It wasn't intended to be." The teasing humor drained from her face. "What's wrong? Why are you keeping your distance?"

  He released her hands and looked away. "It's been a long time."

  "I gathered that. Maybe it's time to break that dry spell,"

  "It's not that easy."<
br />
  She reached out to caress his cheek. "It shouldn't have to be that difficult. You're worried about your psychic shields, aren't you?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm an alpha telepath; my psychic shields are solid. You won't have to worry about your shields falling and your empathic powers killing me while you sleep."

  "Great, that's a load off my mind."

  Amanda's smile turned rueful. "Say it like you mean it, Danyael." She stepped up to him, laced her fingers around the back of his neck, and tugged him down. "I'd like a kiss, if you don't mind."

  They were so close he could feel her breath, soft and warm against his skin. He fought the desperate, instinctive need to pull away.

  As if she understood his turmoil, she whispered into his ear. "Stop fighting. It won't hurt. Give yourself a chance."

  She closed the distance. Her lips brushed gently over his, teasing his resistance away.

  Danyael surrendered to the moment as his body succumbed. His mind, however, lay locked behind psychic shields, taunted by memories of a dark-haired, violet-eyed assassin.

  ~*~

  Danyael.

  Danyael's eyes flashed open. Beside him, Amanda slept, her slim body curled against his, both their bodies naked beneath the sheets. The dim nightlight dispelled enough of the shadows to reassure him that he was safe in his suite at the headquarters of Mutant Assault Group. Even so, he waited for the nightmares and memories to fade and his racing heartbeat to settle before acknowledging the quiet voice in his mind. Miriya.

  Her reply came immediately. How are you?

  He stamped down the surge of frustration, of need. Where have you been?

  Away.

  I missed you. The confession, an outcry from his heart, caught him off guard. He grimaced. He clearly needed more practice in censoring his thoughts.

  I'm sorry. I was...busy. You seem better.

  You missed the two months when I wasn't.

  What happened?

  He propped himself up on his elbows and slowly dragged himself to a sitting position. It doesn't matter; it's done.

  What is?

  Miriya, did you ever see one of the abominations created by Pioneer Labs?

  Yes. You did too, not that you'd remember. We fought them several times. You killed one of them.

  He recoiled. I did? How?

  You drove it to suicide. It was...messy. Human suicide is bad enough, but an abomination can commit suicide in extremely inventive ways.

  I don't want to know.

  I'll tell you anyway. Miriya's tone was full of ironic cheer. It tore open its chest cavity, breaking ribs in the process, and yanked out its heart.

  What?

  Like I said, messy.

  Danyael shook his head, grateful that he could not remember. What were they like?

  Ugly. Really ugly.

  I meant cognitively.

  Oh. They couldn't communicate verbally, but it didn't matter. They were intuitively telepathic and---

  Danyael's eyes narrowed. They were telepathic?

  Yeah. I heard them talk to each other.

  What did they say?

  Whatever passes for battle tactics in damnably strong and fast creatures that don't need battle tactics. "Attack this. Attack that." Zero subtlety. Galahad was able to communicate with them, even though he's not telepathic.

  Then how---

  Miriya said dryly, Let's just call it "kinship" and leave it at that. I think they considered him their brother.

  Considered?

  Most of them were killed eventually. Only one remains, and I have no idea where it is. Maybe Galahad does. Why do you ask?

  Danyael hesitated. No particular reason, he said finally. The super soldiers were his problem, not Miriya's. She would not care about his predicament.

  I'm sorry I was away for so long, Danyael.

  He smiled in the darkness, a sad smile. His gaze drifted to Amanda who slept soundly beside him. He had lost Lucien and Zara to Galahad. Someday, he would have to let Miriya go, too, and embrace the new life he was making for himself with the Mutant Assault Group.

  Someday, but not yet.

  He sighed softly. It's all right. Thank you for coming back. It's all that matters.

  ~*~

  Miriya shook her head sharply to clear her mind from the contact with Danyael's. She looked across the room at Xin. The lights were dim, the hour late, yet Miriya knew that if she concentrated, she would hear the sound of quiet footsteps and voices along the corridor outside her guest suite at the Mutant Affairs Council headquarters. "You were right," Miriya conceded with a frown.

  "Danyael told you about the program?" Xin asked.

  "No, but he asked about the abominations. He wouldn't have had any reason to unless he's wrestling with the concept of another genetically modified creature, well-adapted for fighting, right?"

  "Exactly," Xin agreed. She pushed up from her chair to pace the length of the room gracefully. The suite was both spacious and comfortable, decorated in warm earth tones and furnished in rustic style, but Xin seemed oblivious to her surroundings.

  Miriya reflected ironically that Xin would probably be happy anywhere as long as she had a power source and secure, high-bandwidth network access. Miriya cleared her throat. "He asked where I'd been."

  "Oh?" Xin paused and looked up, her expression quizzical. The illusion of innocent curiosity was dispelled by the shrewd gleam in her brown eyes, though.

  Miriya met Xin's gaze. "He really needed me, Xin. I felt like a first-class bastard when he told me he missed me. We're talking about Danyael, the one whose standard reply to everything is 'I'll be all right.' Do you know how bad he had to feel to confess that he missed me?"

  "And not being there drove him into the general's arms, exactly as we'd planned."

  "Exactly as you planned." Miriya shook her head. "I don't understand how someone can be so right and so wrong at the same time."

  Xin shrugged. "It's a gift."

  What bothered Miriya most was the fact that Xin did not seem in the least bit offended. "Do you understand that Danyael is a real person? You're putting him through hell, in order to nail the general for...what exactly? Playing around with things created in a lab? For God's sake, you were created in a lab."

  "Do you know what an arms race is, Miriya?"

  Miriya tilted her head, startled by the unexpected change in topic.

  Xin did not wait for Miriya to answer. She sat in a chair, her back straight and stiff. "Professor Ehimaya Sadgati is a warmonger. She is selling her super soldier program to nations that have nuclear weapons pointed at each other across their border crossings. What do you think other countries are going to do when they find out that the United States and Chinese militaries are building super soldier programs? They'll build their own armies too."

  "You're exaggerating."

  "I'm not." Xin flipped open the cover of her tablet, pulled up the relevant information, and handed the tablet to Miriya. "That is a list of countries that have enrolled in Sadgati's super soldier program. The graph at the bottom shows the estimated count of super soldiers around the world. The numbers are growing exponentially."

  "But weapons are a deterrence."

  "Weapons controlled by intelligent, thinking humans can be a deterrence, but the information I hacked directly from Sadgati's laboratories confirms that the super soldiers are impossible to control. Even alpha telepaths are struggling to direct them. Sadgati isn't interested in providing a solution. She's interested in making a profit. The product she's delivering is unfit for its role, but because of its perceived effectiveness, it will escalate an arms race as governments all around the world build armies of super soldiers. What do you think will happen when both sides field armies of super soldiers?"

  Miriya bit down her lower lip. "It's going to be bad, isn't it?"

  "'Bad' doesn't describe the situation. It will be a disaster. That disaster is precisely what I'm trying to prevent, Miriya. The United States cannot embark on thi
s path. If we do, others will blindly follow us. The world cannot afford a super soldier program---at least not the one proposed by Sadgati."

  "So you're going to use Danyael to bring it down?"

  "I'm using Danyael to confirm its existence. Until five minutes ago, all I had was a hypothesis. As soon as I have a solid case against the general, the National Security Agency can nail him and shut down the program."

  "How much longer is that going to take?" Miriya asked.

  "Not long," Xin assured her. "Just another month or two, and then we can pull Danyael out and bring him home."

  "I hope so, because I don't know how long I can do this."

  "You have to." Xin held Miriya's cold hands in hers. "Danyael is critical, and so are you. You are the reason Danyael survived his year at ADX. I don't know why you held on to the psychic hook in his mind, but I'm glad you did. You need to hold Danyael close now, keep him strong. Remind him of who he is, who he really is. He'll need friends to anchor him, and right now, as far as he knows, you're the only friend he's got."

  "I don't think he considers me a friend."

  "He said he missed you." Xin stared down at their joined hands and then looked up into Miriya's eyes. "Please, Miriya." The clone's face was earnest, serious. "Be strong, for yourself and for Danyael. Leave the national security issues to me. You just focus on Danyael. Be what Lucien was to him. It's the only way you'll be able to save him."

  ~*~

  Miriya did not vault out of bed the next morning, but neither did she linger as she usually did, huddled in the warm sheets, unable to muster the energy to start her day. She wondered what made the difference. Was it Xin's impassioned plea, or the fact that her mind had lingered in close contact with Danyael's through the night, silently comforting and being comforted by his presence? How much of her improved outlook on life could be attributed to the mood-altering capabilities of an alpha empath, and how much to the knowledge that she too had the power to make a difference in his life?

  She luxuriated in the bath for an hour and then spent nearly as long combing out the tangles in her blond hair. Her hair had grown out over the previous year into a shapeless mop. Miriya frowned at her reflection in the mirror; it was time for a change.