Free Souls (Book Three of the Mindjack Trilogy)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  “In spite of all the trouble you seem to cause wherever you go,” Kestrel said with a sideways glare, “you’re not keeping me from doing anything—I’m done with the experimental phase of my work.”

  I frowned, not expecting that response. He was done? What did that mean? “What are you going to do now?” I couldn’t help asking. “Take up wood working? If you’re looking for a new hobby, I suggest—”

  Kestrel stopped in his tracks right before we reached the door. He stared down at me. “Vellus seems to think you’re useful to us, but I promise you, Kira, the moment you are not useful anymore I will have a personal appointment to meet with you.”

  I met his stare, imagining all the ways I would like to kill him. “I’m looking forward to that.”

  He flinched, just in the slightest, struggling mightily not to let it show. I still saw it.

  He turned away and swiped his badge to open the door. I followed him in, our footsteps ringing on the metal stairs and the concrete lined staircase. Two of the courtyard guards followed, their heavy boots clanging the stairs even more loudly.

  Kestrel was obviously working with Vellus. Of course, it had always been a possibility: they were both in the government, both working to destroy jackers. But why was Kestrel here now, at Vellus’s Detention Center? If he truly was done with his experiments, he wasn’t picking up new guinea pigs to take back to his lair. I had assumed Vellus wanted me because he still wanted the tru-cast interview. With Kestrel involved, I wasn’t sure of anything.

  My stomach was chewing holes in itself by the time we reached the top of the stairs. Kestrel swiped all four of us through a door and quickly strode through a large press area that overlooked a glassed-in room. It was shield protected but gave an excellent view of the interior of the prison. Two stories of metal-barred cells were crammed with thin, gray bunks: cages for jackers. Most of the cells were occupied by figures in pale green jumpsuits. They were moving, so they weren’t overly juiced-up, but I was too far away to make out who they were. Seeing the prisoners flashed me back to Kestrel’s cells and his desert camp. I could almost taste the orange spice tranq gas Kestrel used there.

  I bit my lip. My dad and Sasha were down there somewhere.

  Too soon, we left the press room on the opposite side and weaved through a series of doors that slid open with Kestrel’s swiped badge. He clearly had the run of the place. We finally approached an office labeled Warden, and one of the guards took up a station at the door, while the remaining guard stayed with Kestrel and me. The familiar tingle of a mindwave disruptor field buzzed my skin as we walked in.

  The warden’s receptionist’s desk was empty just like the cushioned visitors’ bench attached to the wall. Chemical smells from the seat mixed with the sharp scent of fresh paint, and pictures of Illinois corn fields gleamed green and gold on the walls. I reached toward the warden’s door but ran smack into another shield.

  The wall screen behind the desk flipped through views of the facility. I tried to plunge into the mindware interface of the nearby computer, but it was shut down without a remote activation ability. I had hoped to find something about possible escape routes—or maybe laundry carts. But I needed to focus on how to kill Vellus. There probably wouldn’t be much of a chance for escape afterwards, anyway, assuming I survived the attempt.

  The warden and Vellus strode out of his office together, but Vellus strutted ahead like he owned the place. Which I supposed he did. I carefully controlled my reaction this time, having steeled myself for this since leaving Julian at the water pumping station. It was time to put on a performance, and there would be no dress rehearsal. It was improv all the way, and I had to be ready for the opportunity to take down the senator when it came.

  Vellus’s fashionably waved hair was smashed underneath an anti-jacker helmet, which was gold-flecked and pretentious, just like him. The warden also had an anti-jacker helmet, but his was standard issue black. He barely noticed me as he strolled out, telling the guard he was heading out for a lunch break. The secretary’s screen showed it was 12:30 pm.

  Vellus towered over me, his lean, tailored suit rich and polished next to Kestrel’s Gman coat and stiff-collared shirt. Unlike Kestrel’s cruel eyes, Vellus’s brown ones were deceptively warm. Vellus and I stared at each other, as if one of us was a snake finally having the bird in its sights, mesmerizing it with its slick hissing voice. I had no intention of being the bird, but I put a little cower into my stance to let Vellus think he was the snake. That brought out Vellus’s million watt smile, the one he used on tru-casts and mindreading voters all over the state.

  “So nice to see you again, Miss Moore.” He stepped aside to clear a path to the warden’s office and waited. I hesitated, then held my head up, the proud young revolutionary heading off to the gallows. I even put a stumble in my step, but mostly because I wanted to arrive at the warden’s office an extra second or two ahead of Vellus.

  It would give me time to search for a weapon to help him meet his maker.

  The warden’s office door shut silently behind us, no menacing click to signal my imprisonment, but the guard posted outside and the disruptor shielded walls promised I would stay as long as Vellus wanted. My extra second to look for a weapon was wasted: the warden’s office was exceedingly spare. A heavy oak desk and an over-stuffed leather chair dominated the center of the room, with an oil painting of the capitol hanging on the wall behind them and a plant too vibrant to be real filling one corner of the windowless office. A bank of screens lined the opposite wall, showing a mosaic of the Detention Center. I wished for a Warden of the Year award to bludgeon Vellus or a glass frame I could break and use to cut Vellus’s neck, but there wasn’t so much as a scribepad stylus to work with.

  It was just me, Vellus, and Kestrel.

  Vellus was big, six feet or more, and I couldn’t take Kestrel physically, even without half a dozen armed guards to help him. Plus Kestrel was a jacker, and Vellus was helmeted. But I had one ability those things were useless against. If I was fast enough, I could take Vellus by surprise—get him in a head-lock and twist hard. A broken neck was almost always lethal. At least I hoped that was true.

  It wasn’t like I had practiced killing people with my bare hands.

  But it would be tough to get into my hyped state with the two of them staring at me. I glared back at Kestrel, trying to check for a weapon under his Gman jacket in a not-too-obvious way. Even hyped on fast-twitch, it would be tricky if Kestrel was armed. Maybe I should draw him out first, see if he pulled a gun. Or I could relieve him of his weapon and use it on both of them.

  That had a lot of appeal. Also a high probability of me getting shot by Kestrel, or the guard outside, before I could kill Vellus. While I was thinking through my limited options, Vellus leaned against the desk and folded his arms, studying me. For all the thinking that showed on his face, I wondered if he was weighing ways to kill me too.

  “I’m flattered you want me to be lead negotiator, Senator Vellus,” I said, in my most I’m-the-snake voice, just to throw him.

  His eyes held nothing but mirth, not thrown in the slightest. “You’re a much smarter young lady than that, Kira.”

  “Not smart enough to stay out of your reach,” I said, with mock deference. Then I put some edge in my voice. “Regardless, I am here to negotiate. We’re prepared to release the water pumping plant undamaged and the rest of the plant workers unharmed if you meet the JFA’s demands. It’s really in your best interest to do this. You don’t want all those mindreaders wondering why you can’t keep grandma’s water on.”

  “Oh, you’re right about that.” He held his hands out, as if to ward off hordes of angry voters. “I fear the reaction of gray-haired ladies all over Chicago New Metro should I fail to keep their utilities properly functioning.” Then he examined his finely manicured fingernails. “But, of course, I have no intention of giving in to your little revolutionary demands. That would look very bad, don’t you think?”

  “It’s no
t a threat, Vellus,” I said. “Julian will cut off the water.”

  “Ah, yes, Julian.” He smirked, and a chill raced through me. “I wouldn’t concern yourself with him anymore. Your time rattling around with his band of revolutionaries has only delayed the inevitable, but here we are, finally. The tru-casters are setting up in the pressroom, awaiting you.” He examined the screen behind me, tapping his chin. “The young face of the mindjackers, liberated from the dangerous revolutionaries in Jackertown, come to the Detention Center to tell her tale of rescue and heroics. It will make for a fine tru-cast.”

  I knew the words I was supposed to say, but I couldn’t seem to force them out of my mouth. I took a deep breath. I would say what I had to, pretend until the moment was right, then slip a stylus between his ribs, if only I could find one.

  “I’m not doing any tru-casts,” I said, “until you call off your National Guard from the water plant and Jackertown. Free the prisoners in the DC. Once everyone’s free and safe, I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Kestrel and Vellus both had a good laugh at that.

  My face grew hot. Suddenly the situation felt like it was spinning away from me, like a grenade with the pin pulled.

  “Kira, my dear, you’re nowhere near that valuable to me.” Vellus paused, apparently wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “That water pumping plant,” he swept his hand to the monitor behind me where the screen now showed an aerial view of the water station, “that is much more valuable, far too important to let your little friends play with it.”

  I stared at the image, my mind reeling. What did he mean, it was more important? He had just said he wasn’t worried about grandma’s water being cut off—

  “However,” Vellus pushed his anti-jacker helmet up from where it had slid forward, “your friends’ demands gave me the perfect excuse to have them hand you over. I would much rather have you here, safe, in the warden’s office.”

  He genuinely sounded as if my safety was of great concern to him. I stole a glance at Kestrel, who was enjoying a full smirk at my expense. The horrible feeling that I had missed something lodged in my throat.

  Vellus smiled his unnaturally white teeth. “I thought we had reached an understanding in my office those many months ago. That our interests are so much more aligned than you realize. I thought you were the kind of girl who didn’t like to see her friends get hurt. And yet, now, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Frankly, I’m not sure how many of them will be alive by the end of the day.”

  His gaze flicked to the screen, and I slowly turned to look, my breath frozen in my chest. The aerial shot panned across the water plant as two double-rotor black helicopters descended on it. SWAT team members disgorged from the sides, rappelling down to the roof. They spread out like ants on a hot plate, skittering across the surface and looking for a place to burrow in. They disappeared, and a moment later, a series of flashes went off inside the plant, shooting light out between the cracks around the boarded up windows.

  I flinched with each one, like they were stabbing me.

  Vellus didn’t care about the hostages—I had only brought half of them out with me. There wouldn’t be any negotiations. There was no audio on the screen, but I heard it in my mind. The shots ringing out, the screams of surprise and pain. My friends, dropping to the floor of the station, gaping in surprise at the holes bleeding in their chests.

  Julian…

  I was drowning in the need to stop it and the utter certainty that I couldn’t.

  Tears blurred my eyes. Vellus was murdering them. I swallowed, trying to picture Julian fighting off the SWAT team, protected by his bulletproof vest and the JFA militia he had with him, all of whom would give their lives for his. But all I could see was him lying in his own blood, like Simon in the desert.

  “No…” The word was a gasp, suffocated by the thousand pound weight on my chest. Julian was the heart of the revolution… my heart… and Vellus had just cut it out. Ava. Hinckley. Myrtle. They were all in there, all dying. I left to try to save them and instead I was left watching while Vellus slaughtered them. The hole in my heart came raging back, only this time it spewed a volcano of anger.

  I whirled on Vellus. “There were innocent people in there!” My fists were clenched and raised, as if I might strike him. I teetered on my toes. It took everything I had not to fling myself at Vellus and try choking him with my bare hands, like I had in my blind rage with Kestrel.

  Vellus didn’t move a muscle. “You should have thought of that before taking over the water station.” His patronizing tone nearly made my head explode. “I wouldn’t mind making you another casualty in the war, Kira. An anonymous one, of course. Can’t have you being a martyr, like your young friends here.”

  I couldn’t see Vellus through my haze of tears for a moment, then anger burned them off. It was an unbearable heat, lava boiling in my chest. I crushed it deep inside me, turning it into a diamond of hate that would sharpen my mind. I would use it to calculate the exact best way to kill Vellus.

  With my bare hands was sounding more appealing all the time.

  “But I’m glad you’re here and not there, Kira,” Vellus said. “We can achieve so much if we work together. Join me on the tru-cast, and let’s put an end to this silly squabbling and waste of lives. What do you say, my dear?”

  I’m going to kill you. “I say you’ve just created a martyr like you can’t imagine.”

  Vellus would pay for that with his life. And if I died in the process… well, even if Hinckley was lost at the water plant, Anna had my chat-cast recording. She would use it, and then Julian’s death, my death, would count for something. That thought lifted me up.

  “You can’t stop us, Vellus,” I said. “You can kill everyone in the water plant, but you can’t kill us all.”

  “Your friends got themselves killed,” Vellus said, the soft voice of the snake coming out. “They were awfully quick to hand you over, were they not? Perhaps they’re not the friends you think they are.”

  I resisted the urge to snarl at him.

  “I had hoped you would understand,” Vellus continued. “Jackers and readers are in a silent war, and it’s one jackers cannot win. I have been doing everything in my power to reassure people that the threat of jackers will be contained. Because what if it is not, Kira? Have you considered that?”

  I simply stared at him. After I killed Vellus… what was the endgame for all of this? Would it be an all-out war? We didn’t have an army. We could barely run a guerilla campaign to take over a water pumping station.

  If the readers declared a real war on us, we would all be dead.

  Vellus must have seen the wavering on my face, because he was nodding now, which turned my stomach into a heaving storm of bile.

  “Jackers should lay down their arms,” Vellus said. “Come voluntarily out of Jackertown for testing and identification. You, Kira, the young face of the jackers, can testify that they’ll be treated well in the Detention Center. There doesn’t need to be a wide scale loss of life. You can assure jackers that it’s the best path, that they will be treated humanely and allowed to live out their natural lives in peace.”

  I almost threw up on his shiny, custom-made shoes.

  “You really are insane,” I said, swallowing down the sourness stinging the back of my throat. “You can’t possibly believe I would to tell jackers to volunteer themselves for lockup just so you and your buddy Kestrel can conduct your horrific mind-game experiments.” Something tickled the back of my brain: Kestrel said he was done with his experiments. “What was the point of all that if you’re just going to lock us away? Why don’t you put bullets in people and be done with it?” I jabbed my finger at the monitor. “You don’t seem to have any qualms about that.”

  Kestrel snorted behind me, and Vellus sighed, like I was trying his patience. “I’m not the monster you seem to think,” he said. “And Mr. Kestrel has simply been following orders, although he understands the importance of what we’re doing as
well. I truly do not want to kill jackers—I don’t need heaps of bodies on the tru-casts at the next election. I’m fighting for peace here, Kira. You want peace, do you not? Or have you only dreamed of war in your cloistered hideaway with your revolutionary friends?”

  I shook my head. I wanted to shut out Vellus’s words, but I couldn’t.

  “The bloodshed will escalate,” Vellus continued. “As the numbers of jackers grows, the threat they pose becomes even more severe. The consequences will be dire, but you’ve already seen that, haven’t you? In the camps and in Jackertown—a world filled with mindjackers is a world steeped in violence and anarchy. Is that how you want to live? You know this is where our country is headed if the jacker threat isn’t contained.”

  No, no, no. I pressed the heels of my hands to my head, the fuzziness growing worse. These are lies, I told myself, lies. Julian was creating a better world. One where jackers could live and coexist in peace. He would have made it happen.

  A chill ran to the pit of my stomach. I had just thought of Julian as if he was already dead. I dropped my hands and glared at Vellus. He needed to die now.

  Bare hands would have to do.

  Without turning around, I threw the full force of my mind at Kestrel lurking behind me. I caught him off guard, managing to plunge deep into his head. Several images popped up, flashing before my mind’s eye before he shoved me back out again.

  The water plant. Me in a prison cell. Syringes.

  But no gun.

  Kestrel was fantasizing about locking me up, but he wasn’t planning on shooting me. Maybe he was unarmed after all. Suddenly Kestrel grabbed my hair from behind and bent my head back.

  “Do that again, and you will wish you hadn’t.” His voice in my ear sent shivers down my neck.