by K. T. Hanna
“I had nothing else to do.” The comment sounds lame even in her own head.
“Are you ready?”
She laughs nervously. “Would it make a difference if I said no?”
He shakes his head and pulls an old metal cage out from underneath his desk. In it is a strange brown rabbit. Or, as Sai looks closer, a razor-tooth rabbit. Its odd red eyes stare at Bastian intently. She blinks, the conversation from the previous day still making no sense in her head.
“Razer-Rab, if you want their cute and cuddly name. Accidental fusion in one of the testing laboratories just before the Psionic Wars. Someone thought it would be a good idea to keep a few of them on hand for testing purposes. I’d commend them, but I think I read somewhere they ate them in a lab blackout.”
He pulls an old-fashioned needle out of his drawer with a tiny bottle of serum and begins to siphon it. “I do believe the latter incident is what caused the labs to revert back to some manual locking mechanisms. Can’t trust computer-driven ones when blackouts are abundant, can you?” Without even looking at it, he reaches in and grabs the rabbit by the scruff of the neck, ignores the sharp fangs aiming for the artery in his wrist, and stabs it with the syringe, injecting the rabid animal.
After about twenty seconds, it stops snapping its jaw and lies there, perfectly still.
“What are we doing?” Sai takes a step toward the desk, curious despite herself.
“You are going to displace his heart.”
Displace. Force out. Sai looks at him in disbelief. “Say what?”
“I know you’ve studied basic human anatomy, as well as that of multiple lower life forms. You are going to attempt to make his heart cease. To force it out of rhythm. To end its life using psionics.”
“You want me to kill the rabid bunny?” Sai asks, a little clearer on why he asked her about killing them the previous day, but only a little.
“I could ask you to experiment on humans, but that might get us both in trouble.” Bastian’s eyes lock on her own as he waits for her answer.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“Because it’s not general practice, nor is it a common ability. Actually, so far, I’m only aware of one who can do it.”
“You?” Sai isn’t sure why she asks, but she has to know for certain.
“Yes, me.”
It’s the first time she’s heard a raw emotion of any type in his voice. He sounds almost sad. Sai resists the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, to say something she knows will sound banal, like sorry.
“And you want me to try because?”
His clear blue eyes bore through her for a moment. “Because you’re a Rare. Not having encountered many others, our limitations and diversifications aren’t known. This gives us a chance to find out things we may not be aware of about ourselves. The things we’re capable of.”
That tiny bit of information is more than Sai thought she’d get from him, even if the exact definition of what a Rare is still escapes her. It’s a piece of his confidence, a link to someone other than herself. In that moment, Bastian seems a lot younger than she thought. The weight of the world is gone from his shoulders, and in its place are the vast possibilities for what he might be.
“I can...try?”
“Good.” The mask is back, as if it never went away in the first place. “Come here, and I’ll guide you through what you need to do. If you lose the thread, stop me, and we’ll go in again. Got it?”
“Got it.”
It’s strange with another person in her head. Sharing even a part of her thought processes feels like an invasion of privacy, but his movements are gentle and precise. It’s easy to follow his lines.
Bastian shows her how to flow into the animal, beyond its physical walls, to the sinews and veins that run through the entire system. The beauty of nature’s finest computers—a living, breathing thing.
She balks at first. Though Sai understands what it is Bastian is guiding her to do, it’s not something she’s ever contemplated. For her, all the time spent in the facilities has been trying to get away from taking lives, trying to make up for it. Until now.
It’s painful to attempt, even though she knows these animals are beyond reason. They can’t be kept as pets and breed like wildfire if not kept in check.
Every time she gets a little bit closer, but can never quite seal the deal. Sai wipes her hand over her brow, startled to see the moon high above the dome outside Bastian’s window. The only other source of light is the flickering screens as they flit through their sponsored messages.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, the tiredness makes her voice raw. “Just one more try?”
Sai doesn’t even wait for Bastian’s response before diving in again, this time determined. Making her way past tiny bones and minuscule vessels to the heart, she closes her eyes at the brief flare of light inside her and wrenches, willing it to cease being.
Something hot and wet drips down her face as she opens heavy eyes to blink the tears away. Only, it’s not tears—it’s rabid bunny guts all over the desk, the carpet, and herself.
“Oops,” she says and slides to the ground, unable to stop the hysterical laughter from spilling out. She killed it, exploded it. Exactly what she never wanted to do again. The giggles won’t stop, and the goop sticks to her hands.
Bastian is there with a few wet towels to clean her up, and she blinks in the sudden light that bathes the room. As she dabs the blood away, punctuating the macabre with a streak of laughter she can’t quite tell is her own, Sai watches Bastian clean up the rest of the office. It takes him but a few seconds. His eyes closed, a wind picks up, making the end of his jacket flap softly, and all of a sudden the mess is gone. She wonders idly if he was just showing off. Her laughter dies and he hands her a glass of water.
She clutches it gladly and gulps it down, only to start coughing immediately. “What the hell is that?”
Bastian raises an eyebrow. “Vodka.”
“You gave me alcohol?” Sai splutters. No amount of twisting her mouth will clear out the taste.
“You looked like you needed it. I know I did after my first—and mine was the mistake of a very bad mood.” He reaches into the fridge built into his desk. “Here—water better?”
Sai nods, enjoying the slight warmth of the vodka spreading in her system regardless of her disdain for the substance. “Thanks,” she mutters.
Bastian shrugs. “You’re what? Seventeen?”
Sai shakes her head. “Not quite, I don’t think. I’ve always guessed at my birthdate.”
He watches her for a moment, and Sai wishes she could push hard enough to read his mind the way he does hers. “Well done. You need more finesse. In case you ever need to use this.” His voice holds a hint of bitterness.
“Why would I need to... I mean...” She stops without asking the burning question she doesn’t want the answer to.
He glances at his watch. “Let’s just say, another offensive defense is always good to have.”
She nods dubiously. “How did you clean that up?”
He glances at her and shrugs. “Party trick. Maybe I’ll show you one day.”
Sai glares at him or tries to. Somehow, she feels like it’s not as effective as usual.
“It’s late. Go and sleep. You’ll need it. Domino won’t be back for a few days, and you’ll have your first mission coming up soon.”
“Wait—what? Mission? I’m still a student.”
“True, but like I said, you’re a Rare and I need you to do what it is I don’t have time to. I’m just glad you didn’t turn out to be all fanfare and nothing else.”
“Now I’m confused.” Sai stops and plants her hands on her hips. “What exactly is a Rare? You act like I should know the specifics.”
Bastian blinks at her. “Rare. You have an ability, affinity, power—whatever you want to call it—far stronger and more in-depth than others. Rare.”
“There aren’t many of us then?” Her voice trails off a
nd she feels momentary regret.
“Clearly, at least not many that make it here. Now go and get some sleep. Get up in the morning and do what you do. I’ll see you here after your classes. You have preparations to make.” His tone means the end of the discussion.
For some obscure reason with Bastian, her fate stings. Sai doesn’t like being indebted to anyone, but what she likes even less is this need for his approval.
A scowl on her face, regardless of anything Bastian might try to tell her, she stalks out of his office without looking back.
The heavy steel doors close silently behind Sai. Bastian can still hear her stomping down the corridor. So young. He sighs.
“Do you think she is too young?” An elderly man steps out from a previously concealed doorway and tilts his head in Sai’s direction.
“She’s no younger than I was when I got thrown into this, Mathur.” Bastian turns back to his desk and rummages through the contents, fighting a scowl.
“Even when you awoke at fifteen, Bastian, you were never young. She lacks your finesse.”
“I noticed that.” Bastian surveys the area to make sure he hasn’t missed any stray intestines. “She also lacks reason to take a life. According to her, she’s lucky to be given a chance to redeem herself. We drill that mantra into their heads from day one. Add hints of suggestion behind the words and it governs their morality. After so many people fell victim when her power asserted itself, I don’t think she ever thought to take a life again. If only I’d found her in time...”
“There was nothing more you could do. Do you worry this will break her?” Mathur walks further into the room, steps hesitant as he chooses his footing. His shoes make a slight shush as he moves.
“If she’s going to break, she’ll break no matter who is responsible. I need her. I can’t do this on my own anymore. As much as we want to pretend otherwise, we’re balanced precariously. Sooner or later, I’ll get found out.” Bastian flops back into the chair and looks at the ceiling. His head pounds, his body aches. He knows he’s been pushing himself too far, but in this case, there is no one else he can trust. Not yet.
“You are really going to do this?”
Bastian nods. “Are they ready?”
“They are already dying, Bastian. All of them. And those are the only volunteers I can give you.”
Bastian closes his eyes and nods, sealing off the sadness he feels, and lets the mask fall over his face to hide every emotion he’s ever felt. It’s better that way, harder for him to slip up. “Thank them for me?”
“There is no need. They understand. You are going to kill yourself if you are not careful, you know. One day you will misjudge the dose, and you will lack the power to retaliate if you are discovered.”
“That’s a lot of maybes. I’m careful.” Bastian avoids eye contact with the doctor. “Besides, I can’t afford to slip up, can I? If I do, we’ll be back where we started.”
Mathur smiles tightly and shifts his weight to the other leg. “We are all grateful for everything you do.”
“And do they know you’re here?”
“No one knows I am here.”
“Not even Mason?”
Mathur shrugs. “Your brother was busy.”
“My brother is always busy!” Bastian finally looks at his old mentor. The grey hairs have overrun the black, and wrinkles smile where laugh lines once did. Bastian sighs. “You senile idiot. You’re too old and valuable for this cloak-and dagger-business. I would have made it out tonight.”
“Your rooms are secure.”
“Not as secure as my mind. And that damn leg of yours doesn’t do us any favors.” He takes a deep breath and counts to five. Ten takes far too long. “Don’t surprise me again. I almost killed you this afternoon.”
Mathur smiles at him kindly. “You are too frazzled. You need a vacation. You are older than your years.”
“And where would you have me go?” Bastian asks dryly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll go take one of those fantastic relaxing baths Dom is always trying to push on everyone.”
At the mention of the domino, Mathur’s expression clouds over, and Bastian kicks himself for being so cold. “Sorry. I can be an ass at times.”
The old man shrugs and averts his gaze, the twinkle gone from his eye. “How...is... he? How are they doing?” The question is hesitant, as if he really doesn’t want to know, but can’t stop himself from asking.
“Dom is doing spectacular, but then you know he always does. The others? Well...” Bastian shrugs. “The others aren’t your prototype. They’re not Dom, and they don’t have his sense of self yet. He’s working with Sai. Hopefully he can protect her when I send her out on her first missions. She’s stronger than you’d think.”
“You would not have risked so much if she was not.”
“Good point.” Bastian glances at his watch. “I have to make sure to keep her away from Zach, though.”
Mathur coughs. “Does Zach suspect?”
Bastian shakes his head. “I don’t believe so. She hadn’t fully recovered strength from her final exam when he saw her. Now I just have to keep her out of reach.”
“Not just her. What about you?”
Bastian chuckles at the thought. “I highly doubt it.” He leans back and suppresses a sigh. “How’s the antidote coming?”
Mathur shrugs his shoulders and fiddles with his glasses. “So-so. Needs more testing, but with enough luck and your continued support, we should succeed sooner rather than later.”
“Thank you, doctor. That’s very reassuring.” Bastian’s words drip with sarcasm as he glares at his friend for a moment. “You should go soon if you want to make the time-window. Harlow’s security tweaks are far superior to her father’s. The blackouts don’t last as long.”
“I know. I just wanted to see Sai for myself.” Mathur starts walking toward the side door. “I trust the shipment will still be delivered?”
“On time, my friend.” Bastian picks up his personal reader, balancing the light adrium device in his hand. The warmth seeps into his skin, and he frowns, distracted, effectively dismissing the older man. “On time,” he mutters to himself and the now-empty room.
Bastian glances at the clock on his wall and the numbers glimmering through the skin on his wrist from band beneath. Both are in sync. The odds of only one of them malfunctioning is slim enough, but both of them at the same time? No chance. That leaves only one choice. She’s late. If there’s one thing Bastian hates, it’s tardiness.
The knock at the door is tentative. No, not tentative—tired.
“Come in,” he mutters automatically, and the doors swing in on his voice imprint command.
Sai teeters at the threshold to the room. Her dark hair is knotted and stands out at frizzy angles from her head. Black soot clings to part of her face.
“You’ve never been that good at chemistry I take it?”
He watches as she fights a scowl, which seems to be her automatic response to most things.
“It’s Nimue who’s bad. When she said she was good at math, I don’t think it included chemistry. I have no idea how that girl made it through her final test. What’d she have to do? Groom a puppy?”
“Pretty much,” Bastian says before turning away and picking up another cage from behind his desk.
“What?” Her tone is incredulous.
“Did you think all psionics are as violent as you, Sai?” His tone is bland, and he studies the effect his bluntness has on her. She’ll have to get far better at hiding her reactions to things. Right now she cracks easily under pressure. If she needs a reason and a cause, he’ll hand her both on a silver platter.
“I’m not violent!” More indignation. Her moods are far too erratic.
“You are a tad. You excelled at every single fighting class you took. You disabled six fully trained combat men—three psionics and three dominos. You should have been dead, but you’re not. Nimue would have died in the second wave. She’s an empath. Stick around her and maybe
you’ll end up feeling happier and less sorry for your poor self.”
He winces inwardly at the expression on her face. Sometimes he’s aware that what he says to people can come out a lot harsher than he intends. It’s a drawback of cultivating an unapproachable facade. “She’s not unique, though. There are many levels of empath out there, and to read through shields, she needs skin contact. You have abilities inside you no one has even tapped into yet. So, let’s find some more, shall we?”
She runs her fingers through her hair, working out knots in exasperation, and eyes the cage on his desk with distinct skepticism. “Do I have to kill that, too?”
“No. I want to take a different approach after yesterday’s mess.”
“Fun.” Her voice falls flatter than her usual quip. Bastian sighs softly and steps over to look her in the eye.
“I know you don’t want to kill. You think you’ve done enough of that for two lifetimes. I’m here to tell you that, no matter what we want and what we think we’re incapable of, there may be a situation that arises where your life is more important to you than the person standing over you. If I weren’t to teach you this, to teach you to try and access the abilities you have and use them in defense of yourself or others, how good a teacher would that make me?”
“You said you’re not a teacher.” There’s that stubborn set to her jaw. A myriad of colors pass over her face, reflected from a sudden pop-up triggered just below his window. Red streaks linger longer in her hair, reminding him of all the blood she already has on too-young hands.
“Touché, my dear, but I am your guide.” He points to the cage. “Today, we’re going to do the reverse. Have you heard of a medi-psi?”
Sai scrunches up her brow in thought and answers tentatively, “Uncommon. The creator of the dominos was one?”
“Ten gold stars.”
“Cut it out,” Sai grumbles. “Your point?”
“The point.” Bastian mulls the words over in his head, trying to figure out how exactly to say what he wants to. “The point is there aren’t many medi-psionics. Those of us capable of manipulating body structure, organs, diseases within a body for healing purposes are far and few between. It’s probably a good thing there aren’t many healers, considering the fact that—logically—you can also do the reverse.
