by K. T. Hanna
Mathur glances up, a brief shock registering in his expression, followed closely by recognition. His smile is gentle and appears much like Sai’s always imagined a father might. “Sai.” He beckons her inside. “Come in, come in.”
His constant ability to put her at ease is endearing, and she perches herself on a chair near the bench he’s working on. “Dom mentioned you wanted to see me?” She glances down at the figure on the table and frowns. It looks so similar to her Dom and yet so vastly different. The radiance of adrium is barely held in check, and the facial structure, while it resembles a person, lacks the humanity that makes Dom who he is.
“Dom said you have been working on harnessing the power you managed to use against the Damascus.”
“I’m getting there. It’s not easy and it’s so tiring. I must have blacked out last night. I don’t even remember ending up back at my apartment. I believe I now understand how to find the ability and how to hold onto it. But considering last time resulted in my being unconscious for several hours afterward, I’m hesitant to try and use it.”
“Why practice at all if you cannot use such a gift?” Mathur’s words are soft, but there is a steely resolve behind them.
She knows as well as anyone that if multiple psionics could master this and use it as a weapon, then they might actually stand a decent chance of surviving the Damascus. So she thinks hard for a few moments, desperately digging for an answer or two. Why do anything with it if she can’t, well...do anything with it?
“I believe I can use it, but I can’t really practice it?” Her statement comes out as a question, and she sighs, hoping he understands.
Mathur continues to tinker with the domino in front of him. Slivers of adrium sink into the domino flesh beneath it, only to become seamlessly intertwined. According to the number on its shoulder, it’s Twenty-Five. “I am not sure you can, either—not in these close quarters. Not if it is too dangerous. Not if it is too volatile.” He frowns and leans over the chest of Twenty-Five. A few clicks later, he smiles and stands straight. “But if you can figure out a way to practice without hurting yourself, others, or knocking yourself out for several hours a day, I think you will have a winner.”
Twenty-Five sits up and blinks.
Sai suppresses a yelp.
“Startled you, did I?” Mathur asks, very obviously not the least bit interested in an answer while he continues to tinker with the now-operational domino.
“A little.” She bites at her lip in thought.
“Aishke. Iria.”
“What?” Sai looks up from contemplating the faint pattern that shimmers in and out of sight on the domino’s chest. “What about them?”
A brief flash of annoyance crosses Mathur’s demeanor, but it’s gone so fast she’s not entirely sure she saw it. “Teach them. Show them. We have people who know enough now to help build the basics. People who can teach shielding and breaking through shields. We have people who can teach more capabilities, as well as defensive. Take your two best students—hell, take Mason, Kayde, and Stephen, too—and teach them how to find this source, ability, power, whatever you want to call it.”
The motivation practically surges through her, and Sai jumps from her stool, trying not to stare at Twenty-Five in the process. It’s not moved apart from sitting up, and the eyes are vacant and empty. She never wants to see Dom that way. “I’ll get Ash and Iria first. Better to start small while I’m still figuring things out myself.”
Mathur smiles. “Remember to listen to them. Sometimes those who have no idea about something can have the most innocent insight into it.”
Sai watches as Iria and Aishke both try to come to grips with the pool of power she’s shown them—or, at least, tried to direct them toward finding. “It’s different for everyone,” she repeats. Again. “Close your eyes and concentrate. Remember how it feels when your power awoke. It’s the source of all your psionic energy.”
She pauses, keeping her eye on them, still worried that it’s too dangerous for them to try when she herself still doesn’t quite get it. Until she remembers the body parts, the sheer devastation caused by a single Damascus patrol inside of a few minutes, and then she knows this has to be done.
“For me, it’s huge, like a massive lake with tendrils that permeate through my body, pooling in the middle. It might appear different to you, but it should tug at you, recognize you.” Her own has become familiar, to hold, to find.
And for the first time, there’s recognition in both Iria’s and Aishke’s faces. A brief look of wonder, and she moves to caution them. “Don’t pull it—just feel it, know it’s there. Trace your steps back and make sure you can find the path to it again. Get to know it.” Her own power tugs at her, pulls at the darkness on the edges of her vision, slowly lowering it over her eyes until she blinks and sends it skittering away.
“This is hard.” Iria gasps. Her power has never been what Aishke has, but her determination usually wins out.
Sai crouches down, marveling at the smooth movement of her legs now. “I think it’s supposed to be. But if you just hold onto that line, it should amplify your power. But if you pull that plug, you’ll let something loose. Don’t do that unless it’s your last possible chance at survival.”
An idea clicks in Sai’s head. She smiles, finally realizing exactly what it was she was missing. “Keep at it, Iria. You’re getting stronger by the day,” she murmurs, standing back up and settling in to watch them again.
It’s going well, except for the voice in the back of her head telling her over and over that this is all far too easy.
“Is that the last of them?” Sai watches as men, women, and children shuffle onto the Mobile under the light of the moon. They’re traveling light, with just backpacks and a hand-held bags.
Mathur shakes his head as he shuffles through a stack of papers. “That is the second-last of them. I cannot believe we’ve almost managed to clear all the camps out.”
She watches him critically. He’s avoiding the harsh reality, like the distress call they’d not made it in time to prevent the previous evening. One of the Exiled nomadic settlements was completely wiped out. Around five hundred people—all gone.
A flash of memory flickers across her vision. The outcrop of rock sheltering the encampment. Bodies strewn about the ground like leftovers, ravaged by Hounds. Men. Women. Children. All staring blankly as their features began crumbling under the assault of the midday sun.
Sai shakes her head and clears out the images she received while scouting for them. No one needs to know exactly what she saw; it’s disturbing enough that she had to. If she can spare them some atrocities, it’s worth it.
There are lines around Mathur’s eyes that weren’t there two days ago, and he’s stooping, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Even with Kayde and Jeffries helping and the minor success with Twenty-Five, reconfiguring the dominos is still taking far too long.
Realistically, a lot more people are going to die before this is all over, and right now, she’s not sure which side will win.
The hand on her shoulder almost makes her jump out of her skin. She pushes it away and whirls around, ready to run. “Dom.” She scowls at him. “Seriously, don’t do that.”
He blinks for a few seconds. “I would have thought you heard me coming. I didn’t sneak.” And she knows he could have if he wanted to.
She sighs and rubs her arms, trying to clear her head. “Sorry, I was thinking of...” She glances at Mathur, still unable to quiet her concern. “...of things.”
Dom follows her gaze and nods silently before beckoning her to follow him. “How’s the training coming?”
Sai smiles and falls into step beside him. “Mine? Control is much easier to obtain and maintain. I’m still not going to try target practice. I think as long as the control is there, hitting a target isn’t really the difficult part. Ash and Iria are starting to get the hang of it. They’re a little reluctant, though, and I’m not sure if Ash is in the right frame
of mind. Have you been helping her with the Harming lately?”
Dom shakes his head. “She assured me she was fine. In the few days I spent with her, she showed remarkable control and aptitude. Are you worried about her?”
Sai shrugs. “I’m not sure. She just hasn’t seemed herself lately. Maybe having this to focus on will help her.”
“She’s got the basics, though?”
“Both of them do.”
Dom doesn’t say anything in response. A few steps later, Sai is already exasperated by the uncomfortable silence—and perhaps a little guilty. “Sorry for snapping the other day. I don’t like needing to sleep so much.”
It’s the closest thing she can get to an apology, but he seems to accept it. “You forget you’re still healing—in more ways than just from overexertion. Take it easy while you can.”
He has a point, but he still seems a little perturbed, and suddenly Sai realizes it’s not about her. “You don’t think I should be leaving them alone to practice, do you?”
Dom shrugs.
“There’s nothing I could do anyway if they were to lose control of their abilities.” She glares at him, sure Bastian would know of a way to contain them or help them develop. Still, he left it in her hands, right?
“It’s not that. I’m just worried about Aishke. You’re right when you say she’s not been herself. Even timid as she was when we first got you both out of Central, something isn’t right. Talking to her alone might be your best bet.”
“Me?” Sai laughs. “Why me? I’m barely older than her, and I have no idea what to tell her.”
Dom stops short. “You’ve not seen the way the girl looks up to you? It’s the same way you look up to Bastian. You’re the one who gave her shields when she had none. You’re the one who taught her how to use and reinforce her own. You’ve shown her the extent of her abilities and that she doesn’t necessarily have to harm people, even if she can. Regardless of whether you want it or not, Aishke is your responsibility.”
Sai tries to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Seventeen and she had a fully grown dependent. Great.
“It’s not a bad thing, Sai. You have someone who looks up to you, someone you mean the world to. A lot of people will never have that. In a way, you’re fortunate.”
There’s nothing she can think of to say in response, so she follows him toward Mathur’s lab, curious as to why they’re headed there. “What are you doing?”
Dom pushes open the door and walks to the table before answering. “He can’t do everything on his own. Just like Bastian, he needs someone to help him.”
“You can’t help everyone either, Dom. You’re still just one person.”
He looks up at her and smiles the first true smile she’s seen on his face since her accident. “Actually, I’m much more than just one person, Sai, but thank you for thinking so highly of me. Truth is—with everything that’s happened since the Central infiltration, your accident and the release of the Damascus—more and more of my original design has come to light. You have no idea the things I’m capable of, of what I can do.”
His expression grows distant for a moment, as if he’s looking at something Sai can’t see, that no one can see. When he speaks, it’s so soft Sai would have missed it if she hadn’t been listening intently. “Sometimes I’m not sure I should be here. I’m not sure I should exist. But right now if I didn’t, everything could fall apart.”
She’s never heard him sound so sad, so emotional. She hadn’t even known he could get truly emotional. “Don’t say things like that.” He was scaring her with that detached look in his eyes. Not dark, but not there. Since passing her final exam, he’d been the one constant in her life she felt attached to. Even Bastian didn’t elicit that type of loyalty from her, but Dom? Dom had always seemed to be on her side, even when he’d almost killed her, even when she thought she hated him.
“Sorry.” He looks down a younger domino and frowns, placing his hands on its chest.
Sai holds her breath for a few moments while he stands there, completely immobile, and only lets the air rush into her lungs again when he opens his eyes.
“I think I know where they went wrong.”
“They?”
“GNW.” He’s still gazing at the prone body beneath his hands. “And I believe I know how I can fix it.”
“You do mean that, Dom, yes? You are not just playing with an old man’s dreams?”
Sai turns around to find Mathur directly behind her, leaning against the doorframe as if for support. His skin hangs loosely against his face again, and his sunken eyes are dull. She barely stops herself from running to his side, knowing he’ll only take offense at her highlighting a moment’s weakness.
“I mean it. After all, who better to fix them than the prototype, yes?” The hint of bitterness in Dom’s voice shines through like a beacon. Sai’s frowns, realizing there’s something between the two of them she doesn’t understand.
But the question dies on her tongue as pain threatens to rip her skull apart. It’s like a high-pitched scream aimed at shattering everything within reach, and that reach is infinite. And what’s worse, she knows the resonance of that scream.
Slamming up more shielding, tighter than ever, she struggles to push herself to her feet just as Dom gets a hand under her elbow and launches them both through the door, past a prone Mathur and toward the sound of agony.
Aishke’s pain is heartbreakingly potent, and it’s all Sai can do to keep it to a dull roar in her own mind. As soon as she’s within reach, Sai clamps down on her friend’s shielding, reinforcing it and subduing some of the noise, the emotional wave that emanates from her. By Dom’s grim face, damage has already been done, but Sai is sure he’ll tell her about it when he’s ready.
She barely registers the lack of one entire end of their apartment. No wall, no doors, nothing from Aishke’s room out. Just the girl lying prone and pale against the bed, blood trickling out of her ears and nose.
“Hell,” she mutters. If only she’d not left her on her own to practice, this might not have happened.
“There’s nothing I could do anyway if they were to lose control of their abilities.”
She’d been so confident of the fact at the time, but now it felt like she should have put far more thought into the situation. “Ash,” she whispers, slamming shields around the girl that get blown away as fast as she can erect them. “Damn it.” She pulls Aishke into her lap, needing contact to better reinforce her own dominance.
“Dom, this isn’t working,” she says through clenched teeth. The strain is more than she thought it would be. Everything is worse than she thought it would be. She’s dampened the effects, but the source of Aishke’s power is still running on instinct, trying to push everything out of its way.
“What do you need?” His voice is close to her ear, always there for her when she needs him. Like an anchor.
“I need you to shield her, just for a bit. I can’t seal it off if I’m shielding her, and god knows who she’ll hurt if I just let go of my hold.” A tear snakes down Aishke’s cheek, letting her know that, somewhere in there, Ash is feeling every single moment of this.
Dom nods, and suddenly the pressure is lifted, though it’s still there, sort of like an invisible wall momentarily holding off a huge waterfall. She doesn’t have much time. Sai bends her will toward Aishke, honing in, finding the tattered threads of the girl’s control, but pauses just before diving in.
“If I don’t respond in fifteen minutes, you might want to throw cold water over us both.” She doesn’t need to tell him what the shock could do. He knows.
Everything is instantly muffled and distant. Even her heartbeat is slower than she thinks it should be, like time has stopped or slowed significantly. She takes a deep breath, and an eternity passes before the air enters her lungs. The bright pulse is sickeningly tinged with red, interlaced into Aishke, completely a part of her.
I
t’s not the pretty, yet dangerous source Sai has. The vibe is a sinister and dark one. It holds memories and keys to a person Sai would never have dreamed of. For just a moment, she wonders if Aishke will resent her for delving so deep, for intruding on something which would otherwise be private. But that moment is fleeting and there is no choice.
Sai would prefer a resentful but alive Aishke over a dead and silent one.
The pulses of power send a jolt down her own shielding, like a warning shot. That it could shake her own protections doesn’t bode well. With Aishke in this state, left to fire off, the Mobile could be destroyed in no time. She hears herself speak, so slowly, the words prolonged and deep. “Check. The. Surroundings.”
She only hopes that Dom understands, that he sends for someone to check the market section, any of the nearby apartments. Aishke’s power knows her, but the pain of her awakening makes it wary and dark. Any quick moves could be interpreted as dangerous, and while in her pupil’s mind, Sai isn’t certain if she’ll survive a direct onslaught.
Soothing her own thoughts to avoid disruption, she thinks of good things. Like Aishke’s progress, Aishke’s laugh, Aishke’s uncanny memory. Slowly, the animosity starts to fade, and Sai bites back her sigh of relief. Disentangling the Aishke’s veins from around the tightly contained ball of power is more difficult than Sai thought. It takes almost all of her strength to hold it in place and seal each of the breaches, not to mention unraveling the hold it has on Aishke’s most vital bodily functions.
Slowly but surely, the brightness dims and the evil tinge to her power fades. Something angry triggered it, something Sai hadn’t foreseen. Later, she’ll need to talk to Ash, to try and piece together exactly what went wrong, but for now Sai can withdraw and rest.
She blinks her eyes at the lack of light in the room when she frees herself. Dom is in exactly the same position he was when she delved in.
“How long?”
He shrugs. “Thirty minutes or so.” At her dubious expression, he laughs. “I had faith I had to have faith, didn’t I?”
