Chameleon (The Domino Project Book 1)

by K. T. Hanna

  “What happened, Sai?” He cocks his head to one side and glances at his fist. “I pulled the power. I didn’t try to hit you any harder than every other sparring session we have had. Are you okay?”

  Her first instinct is to shake her head, but with the room still spinning, she thinks better of it. She shrugs instead. “I can’t take a hit. Never been able to.”

  “I see.” And for a moment those flickering gold eyes grow distant and he lowers himself smoothly to sit on the ground with her. “This is why you fight so defensively.”

  “Yeah.” Maybe if she holds her head still long enough, it’ll all come back together.

  “But I’ve seen you take hits before.” Now he sounds confused.

  For a few moments Sai looks at him, trying to gather the stray thoughts to answer properly. “You’ve seen me take glancing blows. I can do those. Absorb some of the impact and deflect the rest, reinforced by psionics. But a direct hit? I’m a goner every time.”

  The domino watches her for a moment. “We will need to work on that then.”

  “On taking a hit? Not going to happen. Unless they’re smaller and less powerful than me, I guess.”

  But he shakes his head. “No, on other ways to avoid getting hit.” He stands in one fluid motion and reaches out a hand to her.

  Sai takes it and rises slowly, her balance still slightly off. “You’re odd, Dom.” She stops short. The heat rises in her cheeks and she wonders if he noticed.

  “I am odd?” He looks sideways at her. “How so?”

  “Just... You’re not like I imagined a domino would be.”

  For a moment he’s silent, and she realizes the soft, almost lilting hum that accompanies adrium psionics is ever-present now. Then he speaks again, softly. “How did you think we would be?”

  “I...” Sai pauses for a moment, juggling the right phrasing in her mind. “I never thought of dominos as individuals...but you’re very much yourself.”

  He chuckles, or at least, she thinks it’s a chuckle. The sound echoes faintly. “I believe this is a good thing.”

  “Yeah.” Having reached the middle of the room, she readies her stance again.

  “Why did you call me Dom?”

  Sai blinks. She’s been calling him Dom in her mind for several days now. “I don’t like numbers. We had them at the training facility. No names. No identifiers. Just numbers. You feel like much more than a number to me.”

  This time he smiles. “Thank you.”

  Her head clears slowly after a hit, but even so, she can see the slight modifications Dom is making to her stance to help her avoid getting hit. It’s engrossing and she doesn’t realize time passes so quickly until the timer on the subcutaneous wristband beeps.

  “Dammit. I have to go, Dom.”

  He relaxes his stance. “Hurry up. He’s not patient today.”

  Sai has fifteen minutes to make it from the defensive training room over to Bastian’s private offices. It normally takes just short of that, and today is laundry day. There’ll be piled up washing carts hovering everywhere. She glares at the slightly itchy spot on her wrist, as if it’s the band’s fault she didn’t have the foresight to schedule herself five minutes ahead of time.

  Used to her routine after a few weeks now, she’s realized one thing: It’s hard enough to train with Bastian on a good day, but on one of his bad days, which in her experience seem to far outweigh the good, it’s even less fun. Maybe his bad days are his normal days?

  “Department of Enforcement, my ass,” she mutters as she dodges through a series of four laundry carts lined along the hallway leading to Bastian’s office. It’s not the first time she’s wondered why on earth, with all their technology, they haven’t figured out a better way to take care of laundry.

  She glances at her wrist as she raises her fist to knock. Two minutes early. Perfect.

  “Come in.”

  Of course he knows she’s there. He always knows.

  “I’m not god,” he says as the door closes silently behind her, humor obviously sour.

  “That’s definitely bloody true,” she snaps at him. “There’s nothing benevolent about you.”

  She clasps her hands in front of her mouth, unable to believe she let that slip out. “I’m sorry, Bastian!” she gasps and bows her head.

  His footsteps draw closer, and he raises her head with a finger. She’s never seen him so close before. Blue—he has startlingly blue eyes. Just for a moment they’re there, and then he steps away. “You’re irritable today.”

  Sai waits for him to finish.

  “Talk to me. You’re not going to train well if you’re this worked up. You’ve been doing so well with outer control lately, I started to think you wouldn’t slip again. What is it?”

  “I don’t get the point,” she says slowly, trying to find the right words.

  “And?” The letter opener in his other hand resembles a dagger a little too much.

  “I...” Here goes. “I’m learning how to do things with and without my psionic abilities, but I can’t seem to get the hang of this controlled and detailed sifting. What’s the point of training me in what I can’t do?”

  His expression is calm, as always. He sighs. “You really are difficult. Do you know that? Most people simply do as they’re told. They like being a part of the bigger picture, of something larger than themselves. Why do you rebel?”

  “It’s not rebelling, it’s needing to understand...sir,” she adds the last word belatedly.

  “A need to understand?” He twirls the letter opener through his fingers. “There’s a lot you still won’t be able to understand, Sai. But give it a few months and I think everything will become clear. For now, can I ask you to trust me?”

  Sai pales and takes a step back. She’s made it all the way here without trusting anyone. Bastian might have pulled her from the rubble, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own agenda.

  “Will. You. Stop. That.” His irritation is palpable. “Who the hell taught you to shield? You’re inept. You scream your frustrations to anyone with enough talent to know how to listen and half of those who don’t.” He grabs her hands and holds them to her head with his own. “Watch how I do this. Close your eyes and follow what I do.”

  He guides her through every step, every building block, and demonstrates ways Sai never realized she could shield. Everything she’s known up until now seems rudimentary and insufficient. He deftly weaves the blocks together, putting force and cohesion behind them until a much more secure wall surrounds the private parts of her mind. She notes the subtle reinforcement he uses and the repetitious way he shows her until she understands and works with him.

  “There,” he says, leaving cold air to rush in where his hands no longer contact hers. “Now, when you scream, only you should hear.”

  “But you can still find them, right?” She opens her eyes and knows the answer even before the incline of his head and wonders where the letter opener disappeared to.

  “Shall we?”

  Sai nods and steps away from the desk a little lightheaded. All these new, refined techniques drain her energy much faster.

  Mind-sifting technique control is like playing with mirrors in a fun house, only without the mirrors or the fun. The gel-like liquid, apparently meant to replicate how sifting through actual memories feels, is gloppy and difficult to control. If not careful, it only shows what the reader wishes to see instead of what is actually there. And if really not careful, it just splashes goo everywhere when the control snaps.

  But, if she tries really, really hard at controlling the sift, she should be able to...

  “Oh. Wow.” Bastian’s voice is breathless. Sai cracks an eye open to see an intricate web of beautiful designs, even prettier than the ones Bastian had demonstrated, suspended within the liquid.

  “You did it!” He’s beaming. “I wasn’t sure anyone else would be able to.”

  “Wait—you didn’t know I could do that?”

  He shrugs an
d makes notes on a little reader in his palm. “How could I? I’m not you. No matter what some people think, I can’t just jump in and take your body for a test drive. You’re a Rare. You have to be able to do some of the things I can, right?”

  Sai glares and projects a thought toward him.

  “Stop being childish, Sai,” he says without looking up. “You outgrew that when you killed and maimed over a thousand people.”

  “Screw you, Bastian.” She pushes herself away from the desk, fists clenched, chin raised. “I’m fully aware I should be dead. Maybe next time something in me awakens, I’ll do the job properly and take myself with it instead of being rescued by some pity party to have it held over my head for my entire life.”

  He walks over to her and reaches out to grasp her shoulders, pulling her closer. “That’s the fire you need, Sai. Hold onto who you are no matter what anyone tells you. It’s the only real thing we all have. Let your pride make you stronger.” He releases her abruptly. “How’s your stomach?”

  She blinks. “I’m fine.”

  “Not now! Do you have a strong stomach? Do you throw up easily?”

  “No?”

  “Good. Come here tomorrow after dinner. I think you’re ready for displacement.”

  “Let me guess—you’re not going to explain it to me until I get here tomorrow, are you?”

  “Maybe.” Bastian grins for a split second. “You never know with me, do you?”

  Her body threatens to collapse, and her muscles ache. If she doesn’t get back to her room soon, into that wonderfully small tub to soak out the aches, Dom will never forgive her in the morning.

  “I’m going to bed, Bastian. Stop guinea pigging me. Give me something solid so I don’t worry I’ll blow us all up.”

  “Maybe.”

  She heads toward the door, limping slightly, focusing on her progression. Sai fails to hear Bastian and is startled by his sudden appearance beside her.

  “What would you do if razor-tooth rabbits escaped?”

  Sai blinks at him again. “Those weird experiments gone wrong? The fanged little menaces?”

  He nods.

  “I’d kill them, I guess?” She’s still trying to understand what he’s saying.

  “Why?”

  She looks at him, her eyes trying valiantly to close. Unless the rabbits stop biting long enough for her to use one as a pillow, Sai really doesn’t care. “Because everything I’ve ever heard about razor rabbits involves them being dangerous and vicious, a pest that needs to be put down.”

  Bastian raises an eyebrow. “So not because you knew the information yourself, but because someone told you the information was true?”

  “Well, yeah. Why would anyone lie about something like that?” Sai has no idea if her answer is even close to right.

  He holds her gaze until she begins to squirm. “Good. Maybe it’s starting to sink in.”

  Sai glares at the yellow glob on her white ceramic plate, impersonating the scrambled eggs she thought she was getting. The glob stares back at her, probably smiling. She sighs and clamps down on a fork full of the substance, chewing with renewed animosity.

  “It’s still better than what we used to eat.” Nimue slides into the seat next to her.

  “True.” The girl has a point. Sai plays with the rest of her food and glances at her classmate, resisting the urge to move away. She’s dangerously close to invading Sai’s personal space. The clock over the serving line lets her know there’s still twenty minutes until seven. She sighs. “Today is going to be a long day.”

  Nimue glances at her. “Oh?”

  “Things to study, beatings to dodge. The usual.” Sai dismisses the inquiry in her usual fashion. She’s not one to open small talk with many people. No one has ever proven they can be fully trusted, which is why Bastian’s question still nags at the back of her mind.

  “Sai?”

  She looks up from her mangled breakfast and pushes it away in disgust before responding. “What?”

  Nimue blushes and tucks a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you got out. There were rumors about your test. I’m just glad you made it.”

  Sai studies the girl’s face, seeking any sign of insincerity before answering. Being stuck in the facilities means everyone has at least something in common: an awakened psionic ability. Most psionic users can tell if you’re lying. As far as she can tell, Nimue isn’t, but then, maybe that’s her specialty.

  “Thanks. I’ll see you in class.” She pauses, not sure what prompts her to, then takes a deep breath and gets it over with: “I’m here around this time every morning, if you’re bored.”

  It’s not a question because Sai doesn’t have time for an answer she’s not even sure she wants, but as she turns to leave the hall, Nimue’s smile is oddly satisfying.

  The satisfaction carries her all the way back to her room where she retrieves her reader, unlocking it by simply picking it up in her banded hand, before hurrying to Ms. Janni’s class. As usual, she’s the first to arrive and flips through the information she summarized the previous evening with a frown.

  There’s so much glossed over in the junior division. Maybe they save this part of the past for when children are mature enough to handle it. Glancing over her notes, Sai notices the time on her reader and frowns. Janni is late.

  Mildly annoyed, Sai gathers her things and turns to leave the classroom when Nimue’s head pops around the door frame. “Sai!”

  Sai blinks and looks to the left of the classroom door where Nimue and Kabe lean against it. Deacon isn’t anywhere in sight.

  “Yes?”

  Kabe grins. “We have the morning off. Janni has meetings or something”

  Sai shrugs and follows them out into the nearly empty hall. “I was going to get a head start on some of the homework.” She glances mournfully at the reader hugged against her chest. “I need all the head start I can get.”

  Nimue laughs, but it’s missing some of the edge of old. “You were never bad, Sai.”

  “Maybe not, but it takes me a lot of effort to accomplish what everyone else seems to manage easily. My parents never sent me to school before I attended the facility.” The words come out bitter, even to her own ears.

  Nimue’s smile fades, and she pats Sai’s shoulder awkwardly. “Sorry. I never knew.”

  “I never told anyone.”

  “You can pick my brain any time.” Kabe grins and falls into step with them. “What do you want to know?”

  She glances at him, fighting back the feeling that there’s some hidden motive, and sighs. “I just don’t get the whole GNW as a government thing.”

  “Easy.” He seems pleased with himself and clears his throat. “The government couldn’t handle their prisons, and so the private sector took over. They couldn’t handle the medical experimentation that flooded the hospitals, and so the private sector took that over, too. And when the government could no longer handle the situation between the Damascus and the uprising and virtually abandoned the people, the private sector had to step in again for the good of everyone.”

  Sai nods, twisting a strand of hair with her free hand. “Yeah, I get that...but why didn’t people fight it?”

  “Without GNW, the Psionic Wars could have gone on indefinitely. Without them, society as we know it might not even exist today,” Nimue says with a smile and a nudge of Sai’s arm.

  “Yeah.” Sai fights off the shiver climbing up her spine. The hallways are cold.

  Nimue grins. “You can pick my brain, too! Though I’m usually only good with math.”

  Sai smiles back. “I like math. It’s mostly logical. Mostly.”

  The other two laugh, and for once, Sai wonders if everything has to have an ulterior motive.

  Her last discussion with Bastian weighs heavily on Sai’s mind. Displacement doesn’t sound nice.

  Not only were her classes cancelled, but her session with Dom was called off at the last minute and he won’t be back for a few days, which l
eaves her with a large gap in her afternoons. Maybe she’ll be able to convince Bastian to take the time slots.

  The steel door is already open when she arrives. Glancing at her wrist, she realizes she’s too early. There are other voices, ones she doesn’t recognize, coming from within the room. Sai has never really considered herself a snoop, but an open door, with voices speaking inside...

  Don’t even think it, Sai.

  She almost scowls from behind the wall at him, but realizes at the last second he’ll probably see it and admonish her again. So, instead, she lets herself slide to the floor and begins to work on her shields. She starts slowly, building them up and deconstructing them exactly the way Bastian showed her. Every time she rebuilds, she weaves a bit more of herself into them, more of her will and determination, in order to cement the underlying willpower that is their foundation. She makes them tighter and more impenetrable, far better than they ever were during her time in the junior division. She begins to treat it as a game: knocking them down as fast as she can and building them up faster, tighter, and more stable.

  As she repeats the exercise, it draws her in, taunts her to build better shields, to pull on more power. To see if, and when, she might reach her limit. There’s a strange tug in her gut she’s only ever felt once before, during her exam just before she blacked out. But this time, it feels good.

  Something touches her shoulder, and she flinches, pulling herself back while pushing forward with a burst of energy—all in the blink of an eye. The feeling in her gut vanishes abruptly and her vision clears as she shakes her head. She sees Bastian still leaning over, surprise on his face for an instant before he masks it.

  “You didn’t answer when I told you to come in.” He dusts invisible specks off his clean black coat. “You shouldn’t let yourself feel so comfortable in unsecured territory. Anyone can walk down this hall.” He motions her into the room and closes the double door behind them.

  Sai feels her cheeks flushing. She’s never lost awareness so acutely before.

  “Though...” He pauses as he reaches his desk. “I do commend you for working on your shields. They’re coming along.”