by K. T. Hanna
Usually Bastian likes the view out his window, but today, it feels confining. GNW advertisements gleam back at him from below, taunting him with cloying slogans and computer-generated smiles.
“Are you done yet?” he asks Dom, impatient.
Dom looks up from the sketch he’s creating on Bastian’s desk. “If you keep asking me every two minutes, I never will be. Would you like to do this?”
Bastian sighs. “No.”
“Then, please, let me.”
Sometimes Bastian can’t tell if Dom’s faint sarcasm is deliberate or not. It’s not ten minutes later when Dom taps him on the shoulder with a piece of rolled up old paper a few feet long.
“You drew them up old-style?” Bastian arches an eyebrow, impressed.
“That I did.” Dom waits for Bastian to spread them over the desk. They’re huge, but the exits and ducts are very clearly defined. Far more than Bastian saw on their visit.
He twists them this way and that and frowns. “You’ve been down in the testing facility without me, haven’t you? Why didn’t you say so?”
Dom grins. “You never asked.” His expression sobers before he continues, switching back to that smooth and glossy stone-like appearance he and his counterparts share. “There are just some things you need to see for yourself.”
“True.” Bastian purses his lips. “Sometimes I take your humanity for granted and forget you generally avoid people.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. All I need to do is blend. When it works, anyway. Born to blend in, I guess you could say.”
“Nice.” Bastian laughs and then quiets for a few seconds while they study the prints before them. “The fact this research facility isn’t operating at full capacity gives me some hope. Maybe more of the populace is learning to accept and deal with psionics in their families. Maybe Zach has lost his sense. Maybe more are escaping to the Exiled than we realize.”
“I believe there are more facilities,” Dom says quietly.
“What?”
“I believe there are more facilities than just the one beneath us. During my excursions, I found reference to more than one location. Add to that sheer population numbers, and there’s no way the people beneath us are enough to fuel the grids to cover all the UCs. There are no specifics, though, so I’m not certain.”
Bastian sighs and rubs at his temples. “It’s okay. Let’s see if we can break down the defenses for long enough to get in there quickly and save those we can. We won’t be able to rescue any of those in the retirement wing. It’s not possible. They’ll need relief instead.” His stomach clenches at the thought.
Dom nods. “One thing at a time.”
Bastian watches his friend closely and sees an occasional flux of gold in his eyes, the tremor that runs through his left arm. “Are you doing okay, Dom?” Dom hesitates, and so Bastian pushes the question. “I mean it. Tell me. Don’t think about it from the point of being what you are. Think of me as the friend I’d like to think I’ve become. How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers.
It’s the first time since he’s known the domino that Bastian has ever heard him sound close to being scared.
“I just don’t know,” Dom repeats. “I black out more frequently. At first they were random, every now and again... But lately they happen weekly and now almost daily. The thing is, I’m not one of the worst affected. I can feel it in the others, too. We might not exactly share thoughts, but we share...” He struggles to find the words. “We share concepts in their broader sense. One of them is complete and utter confusion. I’ve never felt so...”
“Scared?” Bastian supplies softly.
Dom nods. “Scared is probably a good word for it. If Mathur were here...” He looks away abruptly. “He’s getting old, though, I don’t want him to get caught. He deserves better than that.”
“We’ll figure something out, Dom. Try to hold on a few months. Can you do that?”
Dom actually laughs. It’s an oddly pleasant sound, tinged with an echo of sadness. “I’m trying harder than you can imagine, and I’ll keep trying. If everything goes to plan, I’ll get to see him again.” Dom goes back to studying the blueprint. A smile ghosts across his face, and he speaks softly. “Sai, too.”
Bastian isn’t sure what wakes him, but since he rarely sleeps, all interruptions are annoying. He gets out of bed, catches a shin on the bedside table, and bites his tongue to keep from crying out in case the person visiting at midnight isn’t a welcome guest. Since his mental-alarms didn’t go off, it’s doubtful, though.
With a wave of his hand, he switches the lights on. He’s never been a fan of the voice-activated programs. They went through a phase of needing to be reset every time he got a cold.
There’s another noise, and something thuds lightly against the wall to his room. Bastian frowns and decides to be vocal. “Who’s there?”
He thinks he hears something, but whether it’s an answer or not, he can’t be sure. Bastian starts to move toward the entrance to his private quarters, intent on making it to the wall and checking around the corner. He barely reacts in time to avoid stepping on Dom, whose body flickers through so many different dark shades that he almost blends in with the floor. Bastian bends down and frowns.
“Bastian...” the domino croaks. He’s hard to look at and even more difficult to understand. His eyes flicker in and out of gold and silver, with swirls of color attacking in between.
“Bastian,” he repeats, this time stronger.
“It’s okay, Dom. I’m here. I heard you.” Bastian has no idea what to do and reaches out to take Dom’s fingers. If Dom can’t partially move on his own, there’s no way Bastian has the strength to drag him to the bed. When the adrium isn’t directly fired by some form of electricity, its real weight takes over. Fit though Bastian is, he’s not that strong.
Frustrated, he grips his friend’s fingers tighter. “Stay, with me Dom.”
There’s a frighteningly long pause before Dom croaks out his answer with an oddly metallic clang. “Can’t go anywhere right now...”
The predicament almost brings a tear to Bastian’s eye. “Tell me what to do, Dom? I don’t know how to help you.”
By this time, Bastian is sitting on the floor, half-cradling Dom against his side.
“A minute... More energy... “Dom starts to push himself up with tremendous effort, while constantly strobing. “Bed. Now.”
Bastian needs no further encouragement and guides him. Dom falls sideways onto the bed. It creaks loudly in protest at the mass of weight, and Bastian thanks technology for beds made out of sterner stuff than the pine of old.
“Bastian.” Dom’s voice rasps like the grating of a knife being sharpened.
“What?”
“I don’t think I’m okay anymore...”
Bastian chuckles. It’s easier than crying. “You can move past a person faster than the eye can see, but you had to make me drag you here.”
It’s hard to tell if there’s amusement in Dom’s eyes, or if they’re just chaotic.
“I have no idea how to help you.” Bastian tries to keep his tone light for Dom’s benefit.
Dom’s eyes dim for a moment before flaring bright red and settling back to gold. “For now, this is good. Help me seal? I want to come back whole. Please?”
Bastian closes his eyes and nods, trying to stave off the memory. Over ten years ago, when he was still a child, Dom had a relapse. They’d done what they called a reset of his synaptic connections, the ones fusing his human components to the adrium parasite that made up the bulk of his body. In hindsight, they probably didn’t realize or care that it would reset him.
It took over a year to undo their clumsy work and provided a huge setback in Dom’s progress. Bastian refuses to let it happen again. “I’ll make sure we can retrieve you. Let me in?”
“Promise you’ll keep a look out for the others. They’re not dealing well with this.” Bastian nods as Dom’s eyes close and
the barrier to his mind relaxes.
Dom’s mind is a dark place. He has vague implanted memories of everything that went wrong with the previous eleven domino attempts, not to mention the Hounds and Damascus. Visual images of the complete cycle of incubations to produce not only his predecessors but himself as well. Everything imprinted into one, safe part of his mind by Mathur. The vault where Dom locks himself away, too.
Usually, Dom does it, but right now his concentration is unreliable. Before the techs come calling, Dom will need to be what they expect. Despite their hopes for an invincible defense in the dominos, GNW wasn’t seeking to create a sentient race. They neither want nor expect him to evolve.
Bastian works on gathering everything where it needs to be. Dominos’ psionics are beautiful, elegant almost. Despite their human origins, they’re a complete contrast to the whirlwind of disarray in a human mind. Bastian seals everything into the vault and locks the door with the trigger word. He smiles as he chooses it.
Sai.
Sai stands in the training hall, ignoring the material of her suit as it clings to her back. Regardless of any technological advancement, physical exertion still causes sweat. She moves her head from side to side in order to pop her neck and lets the relief wash over her as she does.
James Darson is demanding, and Sai’s muscles ache, despite the week of training now under her belt. More than once, it’s reminded her of training under Ms. Genna, only more difficult. A few more minutes and she’ll have the training hall to herself for her own psionic students.
Her own students.
What a strange concept. She reaches up and stretches slowly, feeling her back crack and ease the stiffness. Mornings are filled with meetings or physical training. Mostly training right now since Mason still hasn’t made it back to their Mobile.
Sai tilts her head back and gulps down the soft-tasting water. Mathur mentioned they treat it to replenish electrolytes as well as destroy bacteria. She closes her eyes and feels it rush down her throat and into her body. The Mobile is so peaceful. It’s easy to forget they’re preparing to invade the GNW testing facility.
“Sai?”
She cracks one eye open. “Why’re you waiting at the door?”
Aishke shrugs. “You looked busy?”
Sai laughs. “Try again.”
Aishke crosses her arms and glares for a moment, allowing a glimpse of the rebellious teen she must have been back home. But it fades quickly, leaving the usual unsure girl in its wake. “I don’t want to do this.”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Ash.” Sai softens her tone and suppresses the urge to sigh. “I’ve cleared this afternoon for you.” She doesn’t add that she had to reschedule three of the classes for after dinner. Ash doesn’t need that kind of pressure.
“All afternoon then?” Aishke’s expression wars between pleased and scared. Finally a small smile emerges, and Sai claims a silent victory.
“We’ll start small. I promise.” Sai grins and walks over.
“You’re sure I can phase?”
Sai blinks. “You’re a Rare, so I assume you can phase. Bastian can, I can...”
Aishke glances around, her eyes blinking nervously. “Can the domino?”
“Dom is an exception to every rule.”
“He can’t?”
“Dom can do pretty much anything.” Sai pushes down the pang of sadness in her gut and blames it on a lunch eaten too quickly. “Stop changing the subject. You have to learn this. More lives than yours may depend on it one day.”
Ash nods reluctantly.
“Excellent. Watch me. I’ll do it as slowly as I can. You’ll try afterward, and eventually it’ll click.” It goes to reason that what worked when Bastian taught her refinements to her technique should work for others.
Sai breathes in and counts to three. She takes two steps instead of her usual run and phases. It feels slower, and the distance is a fraction of what she usually travels.
Aishke’s face scrunches into a frown, and she shakes her head.
Sai repeats the process three more times and figures out how to slow it more each time. After the fourth example, she hears Aishke gasp and looks over to see an expression of triumph. “You just sort of...will yourself to that point. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Then show me. Phase to me.” Sai stands a short distance away and crosses her arms.
Every attempt ends up with Aishke jogging over to her.
“I don’t get it!” Ash clenches her fists and scowls.
“We’ll try it again, but this time you can see with me. Here.” Sai takes Aishke’s hand and touches it to her own temple to show the girl what part of her mind helps her visualize the sequence. “Can you hold the contact?”
Ash nods.
“Stay with me,” she says softly. It’s not often she relinquishes any of her shielding, but Aishke needs more than a visual. Sai repeats her demonstration from earlier another four times.
Ash sighs. “I’ll try again.”
Sai waits, arms crossed, resisting the urge to tap her foot, when suddenly she’s propelled forward and crashes into Aishke, sending them both sprawling. Her shields slam back into place immediately, and she can feel the mental yelp from Ash despite the thick walls separating their minds.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know!” Aishke balls her fists and blinks her eyes, but a tear escapes nonetheless.
Sai takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I slammed my shields up, but it startled me. Do you think you can do that again?”
“I don’t know what I did.” The younger girl sounds miserable.
“Can you try?”
Ash nods her head glumly, and Sai returns to where she was. For a few minutes they stand there, motionless except for the grimaces on Aishke’s face as she exerts herself to no avail.
“It’s no use. Maybe it was something else.” She sits down with a plop, pigtails in disarray.
“Something else?” Sai murmurs to herself. The shields. “Stand up.” She manages to take the sting off the words just before they slip out. “I’m going to lower my shields like they were the first time. Will you try then?”
“If you don’t snap them and give me a headache again,” Ash says sullenly as she pushes herself up.
Sai nods and braces herself.
A moment later, they’re both sprawled on the floor again and Sai blinks in shock. “Wow.” It’s the only word she can think of. Ash can’t phase. She can pull. It might be useful. Sai isn’t sure how since all of her own training involves keeping her distance from opponents, but she’ll think of something.
“Don’t get too excited.” Ash dusts herself off as she stands back up. “If your shields aren’t down, all I can do is look constipated.”
A snort of laughter escapes Sai before she can clamp down on it. “Well...” She recovers her composure quickly. “We’ll just have to work on that, won’t we?”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Aishke says with a hint of a smile.
So far Mondays have proved to be the most hectic day of the week around the Mobile. Sai climbs up to the navigation deck in order to give Mathur a rundown on her schedule and progress only to find the room filled with many more than the handful of people it takes to navigate the giant transport. There’s tension in the room that usually isn’t there, and Sai frowns, trying to determine the cause.
Usually the full briefing with the rest of the department heads takes place after Sai has briefed Mathur. But this time Kayde, Trikel, Darson, and Jeffries are all there, huddled together. The urgency in their tones as she walks into the room isn’t lost on Sai, despite the silence that falls as they notice her presence.
She tries to catch their eyes, but everyone but Jeffries avoids her gaze. Finally she puts her hands on her hips and scowls. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Mathur attempts a smile but fails. Alarm bells go off in Sai’s head. The old man is usually easygoing, mostly jovial. Something must be ser
iously wrong, but she can’t begin to fathom what it is. Unless of course...
“Is Bastian okay?” she whispers, not sure she wants to know the answer as her stomach threatens to heave.
“Bastian is fine.” Mathur shakes his head, the sadness still evident in his eyes. “Let us go get some breakfast.”
Jeffries’s silence impacts her more than anything else. It has to be bad if he’s not grilling her. Sai shakes her head. “I’ve already eaten,” she murmurs.
“Then humor this old man.” He takes her gently by the arm and leads her out of the room and down the steep stairs.
Her heart beats faster. She follows Mathur down to one of the small cafés, where he sits in the back.
“Just tell me.” She glances at her watch. “Darson’s training session starts in forty-five minutes. I don’t have time.”
“In the early hours of this morning, we learned via communications from Bastian that something is wrong with my Dom. With Twelve.” Mathur takes a deep breath, his thin fingers clenched.
“Dom? Wait.” Sai sits down. “Dom doesn’t get sick. He told me that himself.” But the memory is there. Of Dom and the strange blackouts; of Dom and the loss of form control; of Dom rainbowing.
“I said there is something wrong with him. He does not get sick by our standards.”
“But he isn’t his normal self.”
“No.” Mathur shakes his head for emphasis. “He’s not even aware of himself at this point in time. Everything about him is dormant.”
Sai blinks rapidly at the unexpected heat behind her eyes. Being emotional isn’t going to help Dom. “Can you fix him?” The hitch to her voice surprises her.
Mathur shakes his head. “Not from this distance, and I cannot risk a trip into Central right now.”
“I promised I’d see him again, Mathur.” Her voice comes out raspy, and she reaches for the glass of water on the table, unsure of when it was delivered.
“He is not dying, Sai. Bastian assures me it is nothing like that. You have to understand that when I left, they tweaked him. They did things they probably thought were improvements but that I know are not. GNW does not quite understand Domino 12, and so far this has helped keep him safe and away from their machinations.”
