by K. T. Hanna
“What?” Sai shakes her head. “You’re not making sense.”
“Dom is the prototype. The others are copies. If I were still there, I could fix them.”
“Fix them? The others are broken, too?”
“I did not tell you that?” Mathur smiles softly. “I thought I did. Forgive me. They began to fall into dormancy shortly after Twelve.”
“And you can fix them?”
“If I could get them to me, though it will take time to fix them all, I am certain I can do it.”
“Then how do we get them here?”
“It is not that easy, Sai.”
“No.” Sai stands, rocking the table. “Dammit, Mathur. It has to be that easy. You need to fix him. You need to fix them.”
Mathur raises an eyebrow. “For now, the people who work in my old laboratory can patch Dom up. This should be enough for the others to find the foothold they need to function again. It will also give us enough time to figure out a solution.”
Sai sits down again and stares at her hands. It’s far easier to fuel herself with anger than to be calm and try to deal with the roiling of her gut. Fixing him later isn’t enough. He needs to be whole now. “Is he in danger?”
“Elements of him are in danger, but eventually he will be fine.”
“If you’re trying to be reassuring, you suck at it,” Sai murmurs, suppressing a yawn.
“Perhaps. You will have to forgive me, yes?” Mathur’s eyes sparkle for a moment, some of his usual self returning just briefly.
“I’ll forgive you when you fix him.” Sai allows a small smile in return.
“There is one thing, though.” He pauses as she yawns again, ignoring her demand. “The timetable for our operation has been moved. With the dominos’ current situation, we have little choice.”
“Moved? How much time does ‘moved’ mean?” Sai sits up straight, suddenly suspicious.
“A month or so.” Mathur shrugs.
“It’ll be the dead of winter. We can’t travel like that.”
“On the contrary, winter will make it easier.” He puts a hand on her arm as she’s about to protest and shakes his head. “It is okay, Sai. We will be ready. You will be ready. And together we will do what needs to be done.”
“Easy for you to say,” she mutters and glares at him for good measure.
Aishke falls to the ground, tears streaming down her face.
Sai feels like a monster. “You can do this, Ash,” she says in what she hopes is a soothing tone. The girl isn’t used to work, period. Sai has to remind herself it’s not Aishke’s fault. “I’m sorry for being so harsh, but if I’m not, you might die when we get to Central.”
Ash’s tears stop, and she looks up through one of her disarrayed pigtails. “Die?” Her bottom lip trembles. “I don’t want to die.”
“Then punch through my shields. It’s only three layers, and I know you can do it.” Sai’s been waiting for it to happen all afternoon, but isn’t prepared for when it does. The shattering hits her hard, and the tug of displacement as Ash pulls her forward unsettles her stomach. Sai’s shields slam up as she dry heaves a few times.
“Sai!” Aishke’s glare is accusatory. “You promised you wouldn’t do that!” She rubs her temples, her brows furrowed.
“Sorry. Didn’t expect you to punch through immediately.” Sai glances at her watch. They’ve been at it for hours. It was going to be another late night, but at least it was worth it.
“I don’t want to die, Sai,” Ash says softly, her fists clenched at her side.
“Everyone dies eventually, Ash.”
“Maybe, but the longer I can prevent it from happening, the better.”
Sai picks herself up off the floor and uses dusting herself off as an excuse to mull over Aishke’s words. “We’re not invincible, Ash, no one is.”
“Dom is. Bastian always said Dom is.”
Sai shakes her head. “Dom isn’t, and he’s different. He doesn’t count.” Even as much as she’d like him to. “Do you remember how you punched through?”
Ash nods, her expression determined. “Every little bit.”
“Good.” Sai walks back a few steps and braces herself. “Try four layers. This time, I’m ready.”
The punch doesn’t knock her off her feet, but the tug almost succeeds. Sai finds it hard to breathe after the initial displacement. “Good,” she gasps out. “Knocks the wind out of you.”
Ash grins. “I can break through more shields, right?”
Sai shrugs. “I’m just guiding you here. This is your thing. But I’m quite sure you can improve.”
“You know it’s not a game, right?”
Sai and Aishke whip around to see Iria leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed and that familiar grin on her face.
Ash scowls. “It’s never been a game.”
“Just checking.” Iria pushes off from the doorway and meets them in the middle. “When do I get to fight, boss?”
Sai takes a deep breath. “We’ve been over this. Your defensive capabilities are far beyond your offensive.”
“I can be the best damn shield you’ve ever had.” Iria grins, and Sai finds herself grinning in response. The girl’s good humor is infectious.
“Now who’s treating it like a game?” Ash mutters and kicks her jacket off the ground and into her hand. “I’ll see you later, Sai.”
“I’ll be late.”
“I know,” Aishke says softly as the door closes behind her.
“What’s with her?”
“Probably you.” Sai pulls her own jacket on, suddenly feeling a chill. She slams her shields back into full force, disliking the vulnerability without them, and notices a shadow at the door.
Jeffries. It’s not the first time she’s noticed him spying on her.
There’s no smile on Iria’s face when she breaks the silence, not even a hint. “Either me or the fact that she’s not the child we’re all treating her like and realizes she may actually have to kill or be killed when the time comes to storm Central.”
Sai shakes her head. “No. She’s no child, and she understands death more intimately than I think anyone realizes.” She glances at Iria and grins. “You, on the other hand, still need work.”
Iria rubs her hands together. “I thought you might have given up on me. What with the constant rescheduling.”
“Aishke is not only volatile, but that abyss of power she has makes her a Rare as well. She has priority. But you? A shield? I’m not sure how far we can push that.”
Iria nods. “I’ve had some time to kill lately. And I think...” She hesitates and smiles, almost shyly. “I can extend my shielding to cover others. It takes effort, but in a pinch...”
Sai smiles, realizing how easy it is to be around someone who’s genuine. “Show me.”
Iria furrows her brow in concentration and reaches visibly. At the same time, Sai can feel something stretching over her and draping down. She closes her eyes and probes tentatively. It’s definitely not perfect, but a lot better than she expected. There are thinner and thicker areas, and the ends don’t quite hit the floor. The shield becomes frayed the longer Iria holds it, but there is definite potential and a way to protect multiple people at once.
“Drop it,” she says and opens her eyes when Iria does so. The brunette is sweating profusely, but the pride in her eyes is obvious.
“This is probably going to be more work than you wanted. There are some shield-strengthening exercises I want to give you. I used them to protect my room from prying minds back at the facility. If you practice these once in the morning and once at night, you shouldn’t get too exhausted. In a week, we’ll work on your reaction time. With some luck, I think you can do this.”
Iria beams. “I knew it.”
“It’s not the answer to everything, Iria,” Sai cautions her.
“Not that.” Iria shakes her head impatiently. “I knew you were a leader.”
“Come again?”
“Regardles
s of how you see yourself, people look up to you. Anyone who realizes how hard it is to break the hold on your mind the GNW fosters from the first day you come under their care. You’re a leader, Sai. Thank you for choosing to help.”
Sai blinks and wants to refute the words. She’s still not sure GNW doesn’t have some sort of hook in her, aren’t playing tricks on her themselves. “Without Bastian, I’d be dead. Thank him.” She glances at her watch again. “I have another student in a few minutes.”
Iria shrugs. “Bastian isn’t here, and you are. You’re a good person. You are defining yourself here and now, by your actions. Don’t pay any attention to Jeffries.”
The panic rising in her throat constricts her chest, and Sai has to breathe deeply to keep from letting it consume her. People’s lives depend on her, even if she thinks they shouldn’t. Anything less than her best just isn’t an option.
“How goes the list?” Kayde Thaniel pops her head around the door to the meeting room and grins.
Sai pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, putting down the reader in her hand. “It goes.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging, oh fearless leader,” she says as she sits down.
“You’re the second person in the last two days to tell me I’m a leader. I’m just here to help.”
Kayde shrugs her shoulders. “Okay. That doesn’t sound like the almighty helper, then.”
Sai laughs. “Fine. You win.”
“What’s got you discouraged?” she asks softly.
“Everything.” She sighs and leans forward to rest her head on the cool glass of the table. “I got the impression we were like an infestation.”
“By we, you mean psionics?”
Sai nods. “They always taught us isolation was for our own good. To protect us and others. To harness our abilities and use them to benefit the people of the GNW United Conglomerate. But this list...” She lifts her head up and peers at the reader again, like it might bite her. “This list is so much shorter than I imagined. Given the size of the Exiled population, I thought the list would be so much larger.”
“What number were you?”
Sai stiffens. “What?”
“What number were you? In your intake year.”
“52,” she murmurs and closes her eyes. The designation always makes her feel less than human.
“You realize that’s fifty-two people in your intake year. Some older, some younger, depending on their awakening. That’s only about fifteen hundred people every year. In twenty-nine cities, Sai. And then there are the exams, and the facility that powers the grid.”
Sai nods. She still has nightmares. “Four people. Four in my year passed.”
“Out of fifty-two?”
“Maybe more? I don’t remember hearing a number higher than me.”
“So maybe 150 people make it into the workforce. That’s a low success rate. And those are the psionics they allowed to live. They’re the ones they chose to invest in training. There are less of us because of GNW, but there were never overwhelming amounts of us to begin with.” She stretches her arms back behind her head and grins. “I mean, think about it. Meteors crash, kill the atmosphere, and shortly thereafter psionics start appearing. Even breeding like rabbits, we couldn’t be everywhere yet. The epidemic they’ve always treated us as? Never remotely existed.”
Running late to her meeting, Sai rips open the door to reveal a tall, dark-haired man eerily similar to Bastian. His blue eyes crinkle, and a somewhat delicate mouth opens in a big smile. He’s a bit bulkier than his brother, but even the olive tone of their skin is perfectly matched.
“Sai, I presume?”
Sai extends a hand and glances back toward Aishke’s room. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mason.”
“Thank you for taking Ash in, taking care of her. I don’t have the time to give to her right now, but hopefully I’ll be around more soon.”
“She’ll like that.” Sai smiles sadly. Ash isn’t going to be happy, but with the looming infiltration planned, there’s not much they can do. She’s about to call out when Mason places his hand briefly on hers. “Sorry. Please come in.”
He looks around, brushing down his uniform in a way eerily similar to his sibling. “Does my brother still think he can save everyone?” he asks softly.
“I don’t think Bastian knows any other way. He’ll keep saving everyone until he can’t anymore,” she answers as she walks to Aishke’s door. “He doesn’t smile much.”
Mason sighs, and his shoulders sag a bit. “He’s a bit obsessed. Sarah’s death left him angry and determined.”
“Sarah?”
“Our mother.” Mason hesitates for a moment as Sai knocks.
“Aishke? You have a visitor.”
“What?” Ash comes out of her room, pulling her strange hair into pigtails, and stops. “Mason?” she whispers before leaping to hug him.
Sai backs out quietly and runs to the meeting, hoping Mason won’t be late.
The huge center area of the Mobile is cleared out for the gathering. Anyone who wants to attend is welcome to come and listen, and for this, many people have gathered. Some clasp hands in hearty handshakes and hugs, clapping each other on the back. Others stick to themselves, their expressions somber and concerned.
Regardless of how comfortable the Exiled have managed to make their lives, many of them left people behind. Sai has Johnson’s memories, and failing that, leaving Bastian, Nimue, and Dom hurt more than she likes to admit.
Everything people in the United Conglomerate are taught is just another lie on top of an older one. GNW justifies it, and the people accept it because they have no other choice. With patients from the testing labs fueling the mind-suggestion grid, and weaker psionics unwittingly syphoning that strength to enforce false contentment, justice is too nice a word. Sai clenches her fists to calm herself.
The sheer number of people surrounding her is daunting. She inches away and leans against one of the supports, as far as she can get from the throng without leaving.
“You’re either scared of crowds, scared of speaking, or both.” Iria pops up right next to her, the usual smile in place. “We’re in the last days of the countdown, you know? In a few days we could be in there, getting our people out and letting the world know just what GNW is.”
Sai steps back and studies the girl she’s come to think of as a friend. “You’re far too eager to seek revenge. Killing someone, deliberately or not, is something you’ll live with forever. You’ll wake up dreaming about it, screaming about it.” She runs a hand through her hair, trying to forget her own nightmares. “We should get in, cause confusion, grab what we came for, and leave. Too much bloodshed will turn those people against us forever, and stop them wanting to join us in what we’re fighting to achieve. If we do this smart, it’ll work. There are different types of freedom.”
Silence greets her when she stops speaking, and Iria winks at her. Sai lowers her head and scuffs her foot against the ground, the flush in her cheeks hot and irritating.
“She’s right, you know.” Mathur smiles as he walks past her and pats her on the shoulder. All eyes refocus on him and Sai lets the tension melt away. With her eyes on the floor, she catches a glimpse of his leg as his pants sway and frowns.
She knows what they’re about to discuss, and thanks to Mathur’s timely intervention, it’s easy to slink away unnoticed. Suddenly, she has something to do.
Sai pokes around until she finds Mathur’s living quarters. It makes sense for them to be close to the navigation deck. She slumps down the wall to the floor and waits for him to get back.
The meeting runs long, enough for thousands of questions to assault her mind. She sighs and drops her head into her hands. Everything would be much simpler if her entire life hadn’t been built on a lie.
“Sai?” Mathur asks from the end of the hall.
She pushes herself up and dusts off her pants. “Sorry, I didn’t want to stay.”
“You missed M
ason’s speech.” He grins at her as he unlocks the door.
“If he’s anything like his brother, I can imagine it well enough.”
Mathur laughs and motions for her to enter the cluttered but cozy apartment. She sits down on his couch, much more comfortable than her own, and gets right to the point. “I have questions about a lot of things. But first, I didn’t know you had an adrium leg.”
Mathur smiles fondly. “I do. Limb loss replacement was the first viable use found for the compound. Highly expensive at first, but extremely effective. Once we could reproduce it, it became more affordable. Why?”
She ignores his question. “How did they find out it worked like that?”
“An extraction accident. The electronic pulses that go through our bodies were enough to ignite the slumbering parasite in the metal. Until then, we thought the meteors simply contained a metallic compound. The meteors themselves never showed any sign of parasitic activity. Through further experimentation, we learned it reacts to electronic fields. And voila.” He pulls the leg of his trousers up a bit to show the shiny metal.
“You don’t camouflage. Why not?”
He shrugs. “It is a minimal replacement. There is no need for it to respond to my brain commands, just simply fill in the hole that was there.”
She takes a deep breath. “Is that why you made Dom?”
He hands her a cup of tea before sitting in the recliner across from her and sipping out of his own cup, infuriatingly slow, brow creased in thought. “I did not build the dominos as you know them. I only created mine—Dom. At first I created him because I needed to see how far this adrium fusion with psionic DNA could go—what could it offer and how could it benefit us. That, and I always knew the Damascus were wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because they were too much machine, and the alien personality came to the fore with no conscience. It swallowed what humanity it had and became driven by a single-minded motivation to survive.”
