A speck of curiosity lit in Spartan like a quarry suddenly finding a route unplanned by him.
I had little control now. Tsunami after tsunami barrelled outwards from my epicentre. I struggled to breathe through it, to stay standing, to analyse the percentage for survival if I struck out a death blow to the only family member I now knew. To a man so deranged he could never be predicted. Dear Stars, I had the genomes of an unhinged sociopath. I really have had no chance.
I felt a swat to my shoulder but I could not look away. Pride, slow as the changing summer wind spread for the tiniest moment across that painted mask, hiding a barren soul before me.
“Hey! I said, why, did you jump me Delilah. You were fucking out of it, someone had to get their shit together! I had it under control. Hey, I’ma over here!”
Like a god I never could believe in, Spartan reached out and used such brutal force to snap Tyler’s neck. A breath left my straining lungs as the man I never liked, but hadn’t contemplated killing, broke upon the ground.
Nothing about the casual violence seemed to enter Spartan’s moral compass. He lent in close, peering into my soul as though he could crawl in and keep it.
I fumed. Almost nodded to my knife before I was ready.
The slash splashed open his meaty forearm, but I’d telegraphed.
I copped a backhand to my bloodied face. It slipped from his knuckles as I spun around, lost.
Dazed, barely cognizant I was scooped up from the ground I bled on. An explosion burst my ear drums as fiery perdition excoriated around me.
“You have her eyes,” he rumbled as the clearing burned.
Ella scrambled from my memory and landed just like the hostage. Her reaction told me I’d passed some of the empathy I experienced but Ella was not practised in separating herself from it they way I’d learned to. You could loose yourself that way.
“He killed Tyler? Why?”
I offered her a hand up. “Tyler knew. He hadn’t realised what he’d stumbled upon, or what Spartan might do to protect it.”
“You found out anyway. Why kill him?”
“I can only assume that the information was on a need to know basis and Tyler did not need to know.” I replied seriously.
“Shite, hope I needed to know! Weren’t we supposed to work on focusing your concentration for the auction?” she huffed quickly, sweeping her sunny hair from the sweat coalescing down her neck. That sweat was telling.
“Don’t worry about it, that’s probably the only thing in my life that’s uncomplicated. Remembering faces and places without emotion helps to ground me. It takes me away, you know?”
Chapter Four
The door swung wide and I stepped through the doorway first, tilting my chin in defiance. I hoped it wouldn’t take another decade to gain control over my so obvious imperfections. Carne’s unusual public behaviour distracted from me in small integers and I wouldn’t put it past him to have designed it that way.
With Carne close enough to anchor me I had a solid grasp on the empathy beating at me, and with Ella and Carne able to stem the Tk, I was less worried I’d lash out involuntarily and ruin the mission.
Carne glanced at the seat beside him, silently ordering me to take my place beside him at the desks and equipment circling two lavish chairs scattered with cushions and a side table offering decadent crystal glasses of amber liquid.
I continued onwards to Ven however, who was finalising the surveillance. Carne scowled and I knew well enough what the consequence would be if I didn’t veer course.
I debated internally: He liked to keep things ‘in house’ but the probability was low that he’d not follow through on his threat to take control now. There had been a serious shift in his motives since I’d ran, and my deteriorating condition had become apparent. Outside threat on top and I couldn’t trust he’d keep his silence anymore.
Those eyebrows dropped and his lids lowered in an action that signalled sexual predation.
A large boot lifted in the corner of the suite inadvertently drawing my gaze to the monster scrutinising that elevation of the gardens. Spartan had done it purposely and I was validated in that opinion when his thick neck creaked around to me.
Sit Honey, Carne whispered, gently distracting me.
I obeyed.
Spartan’s nausea hit me like a multi combination rig. It crushed me as usual. What did he expect? Physically, I stood my ground with Carne and even fought for it, but even that was exhausted eventually and I’d be back at square one; relegated to the back seat in my own body. I had to pick my battles if I wanted to win the war.
The surveillance was why I was brought along despite everyone else’s judgements. Carne manipulated me into believing I was furthering my own agenda and he’d convinced Onyxeal my attendance and instability warranted scrutiny under their security purview.
I slipped my shoes from my toes and ground all corners of my feet into the plush carpet and pushed my insecurities backwards.
For more than four hours I sat, ignored Carne and reviewed drone, security and government satellite files and images Ven had accumulated over many months.
Most Sectors had biometric ID trackers inbuilt with their security check points at each Burrow boundary for facial recognition to match civilians. Checkpoints no longer had manned staff and over the decades people seemed to forget how often they were tracked.
For those of us who never forgot, it was relatively easy to camouflage biometrics or even completely change ones computer generated appearance so there was a lot of care taken as I reviewed not only different profiles of faces but notes on behaviour, identifying marks and auditory files.
I filtered out the present as I worked but I was not blind to it. I was never blind to those around me. If only other senses could be blinded.
Relax D, take your time. He fed me a sensation of safety.
I need to be thorough. François could be at the auction and he still has Daniel, the boy, remember?
I remember.
I can feel that you don’t care about it, Carne.
He tucked a stray hair past the shell of my ear. While ever he has that boy you are safe.
I shifted away from his touch.
That’s immoral. Sometimes I hate our association just because of that part of you.
Mmm, he said non committally.
Nuva sipped whiskey, neatly and enticingly, and her soft pouted bottom lip lingered on the crystal, the magical sounds taking up space in the quiet room. Her skin, a lovely burnished golden caramel, indicated her indigenous heritage. Her natural sun bleached highlights smattering the tips of her brown curls played with the projection of sophistication but her tailored power suit defined it.
It was necessary but I missed the laugh lines I knew she hid behind a calculation she’d dug forth from some aspect of her personality.
Roarke, sat primly beside Nuva, pouring a glass for himself, portraying a low intelligence despite his supposed wealth. He sat back and his timeless watch slipped from the arm of his shirt - a quiet pretence of class - it clashed with his jungle green suit.
That suit covered a back built on tribal tats and the elegant sweep of his hair hid his salt encrusted lengths. Both surfed and lived permanently in a deserted coastal town. Ninety percent of our population now lived rurally. The continental waters harboured pirates and the shores were overrun by private treasure/ artefact recovery teams, deeming the inland cities relatively ‘safe’ in comparison.
Both our operatives fronting today’s auction were superlative emissaries and I couldn’t find fault with their projections. I hoped this venture was worth all our efforts and furthered the investigation.
I could still taste the leather strap in Daniel’s mouth, spittle foaming under it. I wanted to help my sister but I couldn’t ignore François, and not because he was such a threat to me. I’d never forgive myself if we found Daniel too late. I’d seen him. Knew of him. To let him suffer for my own safety or priorities would be worse than dishonourable.<
br />
So I worked. And kept as much distance from my mate as possible.
A number of Ven’s team were stationed throughout the room. All the teams within our private military company specialised in divided aspects, contracted out for their unique training. Ven’s was subterfuge and tech. Spartan’s: the fodder, and Carne’s: the quiet might. That did not mean Spartan’s team were vagrants, who were simply provisions. We’d all trained under Spartan.
Onyxeal diversified talents as was efficient but every member had to be deemed combat worthy to be a long standing member in any team and a place on Spartan’s team was hard fought for. Many never made it further than that initial training squad.
Carne
Her tiny toes scrunched in the royal blue carpet, the crunching noticeable to all but her, since she had noise cancelling headset on. I wondered if she noticed she only ever removed her boots while I was present. Still, I caused no small amount of anxiety in her as she worked beside me.
The host for the auction had given only a small window of hours to set up our operations here, with the intention of disabusing the notion of advanced surveillance. Four hours was sufficient for our experts to infiltrate the host IP though.
The other half of my team was stationed at the storage facility where the auction’s products were sequestered. We’d been surveying it for days.
Delilah would be as safe as I could ensure with Ven, while myself, Ella, Keota and Cory were deployed back to the rest of PsiHawkI.
Our contract stated transport of purchases would be shipped no less than one hour subsequent to the event. With the intention of following transports leaving the facility to their buyers we hoped to cut the many legs out from a beast that could multiply or even freeze half dead underground for years like a tardigrade.
I should be with my team and it divided me morally but Delilah has, and always would, come first. The only reason I headed the mission was to finalise her safety. If GMT sales were stemmed it might be another eighty years before another could gather the intel required for a reboot. And eighty years was better that nothing.
Physically she projected a small stone statue but she was more like marble, porous and ready to crumble. I had allowed her space time after time. Over and over, for years now. That had not worked.
Change was at hand.
Once this mission was completed I’d barricade her within a compound I had covertly secured.
If the next forty-eight hours ran smoothly she’d be bundled inside. She would rage but Kuroyuri could take care of herself for all I gave a fuck. When D was able to function practically in any environment, then I would consider re-assessing the assignment.
She swiped her fringe and I recognised the frail dark circles saying she’d not eaten recently.
Hungry?
I’m fine.
I’ll get you some fruit. Anything else?
Freedom would be nice, she said plainly but did not turn her attention to me.
Sorry, all out on handfuls of that, I said honestly. I wished she was ready for it.
The galley kitchen was immense, a little too monochrome for my tastes, but it was well stocked. Of course I ignored any available foods. I had packed rations for both Delilah and I, as I always did when she was with me. They included fresh food but also a fortnight’s worth of emergency packet rations. I almost laughed at Spartans’ correct assessment that I cut Deli’s meat as I chopped some tropical fruit, well known to grow in our orchards, and added some yoghurt.
“What the fuck is this Carne?” Cory sidled up to me more angrily than he’d ever done. He’d watched me since I entered the kitchen and I allowed it, waiting for him to gather his nerve. It occurred to him just now as his gaze narrowed that I was not the man he understood.
I was not. I had spent literally my entire life training, learning, achieving, being beaten down, smacking my fist on the ground, spitting blood, then doing it all over again.
Despite my ability to appear amicable, I was anything but. I was not honest or trustworthy, not in the sense that Cory was loyal, no. If he came between Delilah and I he wouldn’t feel the first slice that came from behind as I slit his Achilles. I imagined a tree trunk staggering, popping off it’s base. I could do despicable things, even as a small boy I knew that fact about myself.
I would do all that and more for one precious reason: to keep Delilah safe from the sickening depravities endured by the generations before us. But I would no longer allow her anonymity. I would no longer hide from my team who she was to me.
I sprinkled some dried cranberries over the little glass bowl, then turned to Cory who waited with an idiosyncratic expression. One that said he expected to be apprised of all the details he misunderstood; as if they all related to him.
Perhaps I had been lax with asserting dominance in PsiHawkI. I had reached for a deeper connection with cadets in my teenage years but it was a blunt fact: I could not attain those and keep Delilah. She had always been my choice. Though I resented her bitterly for a while, puberty had refreshed my priorities.
“Leave alone what you know little about, Cory,” I said, relaxed now against the bench-top, awaiting the repercussions from forcing an unwilling woman into the vehicle today.
“Yeah, I don’t know much, but what I do know is actually pretty fucking scary,” he impressed upon me, leaning in with his hands flung into the air in exclamation. But he was not finished. “And what kind of father sits in a room enabling his son’s abusive relationship? That was fucking disturbing. No one even glanced at her to see if she was alright.” He was clearly at a loss.
“Ven enables nothing, and you have no idea what Delilah is capable of. She’s no victim.”
He spun around and leant beside me on the bench top, his signature short burn anger simmering but no less offended. “For the record: she certainly looks like a victim.”
“She is under some unavoidable stressors,” I agreed with that much.
My shoulder warmed beside him. He’d calmed and stilled. Cory was still dubious but it was insightful to realise he’d been satisfied by so little. If I had such concerns, say about Ella, would I be mollified so easily?
No.
“I thought you’d finally found some little toe-rag to coddle. I never pictured you’d be this type of man Carne. It disgusts me.” Cory said.
Not so accepting then.
I sucked in strength from the woman he thought small and spun, lifting Cory by his throat. Like Delilah had may times, I envisioned ripping at the pulsing thump under my thumb and gorging in mouthfuls of meat.
“Did you just call my wife a Toe-rag?”
“Wife? It don’t matter what she is to you Carne,” he coughed in breaths, and berated me as if he had a moral compass when it came to women.
“I saw her curl away from you in the vehicle, I saw her flinch, and I saw in your face the emotion you shed when you ready to kill. I might not know her, but I’ll protect her, if no one else will.” His chin lifted defiantly after his hard won speech.
Truly Cory had surprised me, but not as much as Delilah when she brutally punched dead in my temple. I shook my head and dropped Cory. I smiled as she circled with deadly precision.
Chapter Five
Delilah
“If you didn’t throw Bessie away frivolously, habitually, I might actually believe you meant that Cory.”
His oxygen staved brain wondered how I knew about Bessie.
“I’ll save myself though if you don’t mind.” I gave him a hand up then whispered as he got close, “You better leave now before he really gets abusive.”
Carne petted my head, silently encouraging me away from the other man.
“You’re both crazy.” Cory coughed again and stormed out.
Who knows why I defended him. Well I knew why. Despite his heavy-handed sometimes brutal dictatorship, he’d always have my back. I’d have his despite how jarred we both were right now. He did the things he did from his brand of love. I knew that. Didn’t mean he was rig
ht, or that Cory was wrong. But I was no victim. Both Carne and I lived in a fucked up co-dependant relationship that grew unhealthier by the minute.
Every time I looked at him his betrayals scraped me raw. Wounds that’d never quite heal. I’d never get past them. They festered. Spread.
I eyed him as I spooned the luxurious mouthfuls of food past my lips. Swallowing, thinking.
“You’ve blocked the Tk since I was five. You know about Spartan that long too?” I braved.
I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer. I wanted to love him as much as I cherished him. It hurt to hate him for this.
His shadow covered me.
This close I felt the warmth of his jaw as it lent close to my ear.
I stepped back. It was a tactic. One I anticipated.
As if apologetic, he brushed the round of my cheek in a curling sweep. My head wanted to fall into the cup of his hand.
“I knew,” he said.
“How long?” I demanded, tearing away from his affection. I had to punish myself. He was not worthy of my loyalty.
It was crushing not to know why. Why someone had stolen parts of me.
“Does it matter?”
“How could it not?”
“You have struggled,” he began predictably.
“I would’ve coped.” I slapped his other encroaching hand away. “You wont tell me?”
Carne
When she pleaded up at me I wanted to divest myself of everything. Confess all. And there was much to confess.
But, Spartan, that psycho, had left more than residual PTSD and she was on the precipice of splintering. I nourished Delilah’s reservoir even as she drained me. Not selflessly. It fed my ego. Brought a sense of accomplishment. I also repaired the defects in her bio-electric rhythms, which had deteriorated badly during our prolonged separation and I created firewalls against extreme emotions - her own and other’s.
Without the extra strain, her body language relaxed as she ate the food I fed her, and bathed in the energy I knew she didn’t realise I afforded her.
Variant Evasion: Trilogy (Variant Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
