Hybrid (12 page)

“Why have I not been ...quite right?”

Bastian lifts his head up, too exhausted to be shocked, and raises an eyebrow before resting his chin on his hands. “Thanks for knocking.”

“Since when do I knock?” Dom is fully visible now, still fluid, still beautiful, still dangerous.

Bastian checks himself and pushes his body up straighter. “Sorry, Dom. Just...you’ve changed. Colder, harsher, less human.”

“But I’m not human.” Dom’s tone is strange, not quite threatening, but as if he doesn’t comprehend the difference.

“I never know what I can say to you these days. You’ve killed two people, and while the motivation for anyone else would make sense to me...” He pauses, unsure of how to proceed. “You—you’ve never been what they made you to be. You’ve always been more human than them.”

Dom moves a step closer, his eyes finally settling on silver, the rapid movement rippling across his form slowing until it’s a sluggish leak. “Am I...human?”

The tone in his friend’s voice breaks Bastian’s heart. Uncertainty mixed with the usual warmth he remembers, only vaguely accented by a hollow undertone. Maybe now he’s really more himself. Maybe, if Bastian handles it well. “You’re more human than most of us. Always forthright, always honest...usually dependable.” He stands up to move to his friend, but has to grasp quickly at the desk to keep from swaying to the ground.

“Bastian!” Dom is there, at his side, with a now-solid hand under his elbow and concern mirrored on his strangely matt face. There’s a crinkle where his brow should be, and Bastian focuses on it.

“I’m okay. I’ve just been so focused, trying not to misstep. It’s like there’s a minefield on every second square, and sometimes they’re placed together.” He tries to hide his joy at the fact that his friend doesn’t seem completely beyond help. It’s not as difficult as he thought. Fatigue creeps slowly into his brain, making it almost impossible to think.

He blinks at Dom. “I feel like crap. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

Dom’s grip is so firm as he guides Bastian toward his quarters, it feels like he’s floating across the floor. The domino doesn’t answer as he coaxes Bastian into bed and positions pillows around him. “You’ve been taking too much of that drug. That’s what it is,” he says, his voice warm, worried.

There’s no trace of that strange and dangerous Dom, not right now when Bastian actually needs him most. “It’s not...” But he tapers off as the fog around his mind gets thicker and thicker. “I haven’t been doing it that much.”

Even as his heavy eyelids blink in what seems like slow motion, Bastian can see the reaction on Dom’s face. The blank, almost annoyed look that would pass for disbelief in normal people. “You’re doing too much, taking too many risks, Bastian. If you slip up because I can’t be here, how will I live with myself?”

Bastian reaches out and pats Dom’s hand where it rests on the bed. “You’ll live because others need you. But for now?” He struggles to get the words out. “Watch for me? Make sure no one...” He leaves it hanging, knowing by some strange impulse that his Dom is at least momentarily back and no one can get in to harm either of them.

For now.

The smooth surface of the lake is black. Bastian isn’t sure why, but Dom stands next to it, gazing into its depths, his eyes a strange mixture of red flickering with silver.

“A black lake is never good, Bastian.” Dom’s voice is distant, detached, hollow. “Never good. We’re all going to die.”

Dom points at something Bastian can’t make out through the fog on the far side. “See it?” he whispers. “Do you see it?”

Bastian strains against his limited eyesight. He can’t switch vision types like his friend. “We’ll die if we’re not careful. I know this.”

Dom shakes his head. “No, not if we’re not careful.” And he points to the lake again, but this time the surface is bubbling. Sluggish, popping bubbles, like liquid tar. Almost like Dom’s body when he’s not controlling the flow of the adrium. “We’re all going to die if we don’t succeed.”

Bastian shivers at the sight, and the words send a sense of dread straight through him. “Succeed?”

Dom nods, spreading his hands to the surroundings, the fog closing in on them, thick and white as the now boiling lake wriggles and pops enthusiastically. Bastian can’t tear his gaze away from it.

“You already know what you have to do, Bastian.” Dom takes a step toward him and holds onto his arms. “Not even I can get past them.”

Bastian panics—at the confining grip, at the mist now thick and tangible, like a cloak keeping the boiling lake safe to do whatever it wants. “I can’t flip that switch, Dom. I can’t get to it”

“But you don’t have to.” Dom smiles, and his mouth widens like a cat, revealing that gaping maw briefly again. “You’re the son of the inventor. I don’t understand why you don’t just pick your father’s brains.”

“He’s dead!” Bastian squirms and Dom drops his grip, eyes flickering to solid red again.

“Death isn’t much of a barrier, Bastian. You of all people should know this.” He grins and opens his arms wide as the mist and fog run away from his touch. “See?”

And Bastian does see—broken skulls wash up on the shore, tar dripping off them. But it’s not tar at all. It’s flesh and fat peeling away as brain matter leaks through the eye sockets.

Bastian sits up in bed, gasping for breath as his thoughts sort through what his overtired subconscious was trying to tell him. There has to be a way to access his father’s research.

He glances over at Dom, who is slumped in the chair, staring at the ceiling. “You could have just spoken to me,” he grumbles, blinking to get used to the low levels of light in his bedroom.

Dom looks over and shrugs, the rippling movement only affecting his shoulders and not the rest of his body like in recent days. “Don’t get me involved in that brain of yours. That freaky dream was all you.”

Bastian thinks for a moment. “But you were in it.”

“No, I watched from the outside. You were tossing and turning, mumbling in your sleep. ‘Black lake’ caught my attention.” Dom’s eyes cloud over slightly, the silver receding to a milky white before he speaks again. “After all, I’m like your only friend.”

“I have friends.” Bastian doesn’t like the defensive way the words come out, not a bit of truth to them. “I do have friends, just none of them are here when you’re not.”

Dom stands and walks over to sit on the end of the bed. “I’m not always here either, but I’m trying to work through this, okay?”

Bastian nods. “Yeah. It’s all going to be okay, right?”

Dom laughs, and even though the hollowness to the sound is mostly gone, it still seems forced. “You know you could go over his things, check out his mementos from his work?”

“I think they’re in storage. Way at the back of storage.” Bastian runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the padded headboard. “Waaaaay back.”

Dom smiles, a sad sort of shine to it. “Way back is better than no starting point at all.”

Sai frowns, watching Mathur tinker with one of the dominos. So similar to Dom and yet wildly different. And it’s lifeless, like a corpse. “You’re saying they’re not really off, they’re just sort of in...stasis? Like the Damascus?”

Mathur starts to nod but stops, hands paused. “It is sort of like sleep or forced hibernation. You have to remember they are not fully human, and there are just things they can do that we cannot and vice versa.

“So...” She stops, trying to piece it together in her mind. “You’re saying you can force them into a type of domino coma and fix them?”

Mathur grins. “No, not quite like that. Unless something happens like the breakdown Dom had, they generally need to lower themselves into the coma-like state. It is still an inaccurate description. I am just unsure of how else to phrase or explain it.”

Sai frowns and stares intently, trying to figure out exactly what it is that makes these dominos not Dom. Still, not the point of the visit. Exiled nomads, those without a Mobile to call home, are. “Mason said he needs to talk to you soon. About the nomads? They’re having difficulty pinpointing locations.”

The old man visibly suppresses a sigh. “Let him know I will have an hour spare this evening.” He straightens up and stretches his hands out, pinches the bridge of his nose, rubs his eyes, and tousles his own hair. “It is not like I am doing nothing, you know. If I have calculated things correctly, my fixing this mess—” he gestures to the entire room filled with dominos “—could have far more of an impact than anything else we might devise.”

“Are they really that bad then, these Damascus?” It’s hard for Sai to believe the whispered horror stories could be even close to true, but by the reactions of everyone around her, she needs to find out.

“More than bad. Once they are reunited with the Hounds, it will just be a matter of time. They will find us and do their utmost to fulfill their directive. There is no reasoning and no mercy. They will simply accomplish that which they have been set to do.” Mathur cracks his knuckles and picks up one of his instruments again. “Now, if there is nothing else...?” He looks pointedly at the unconscious domino in front of him.

Sai takes a quick breath so she can blurt out what’s been on her mind. “So just the exercises for now? No phasing?” Even though she’d been hurt, there was something about that leap that had been extraordinary, and she wants to feel it again. This time she’s sure she can control it.

He studies her for a few seconds. “Just the exercises. We may try phasing again soon if I think you’re ready.”

Sai smiles, the tension in her stomach melting. She isn’t quite ready to try again yet. “Great. I’ll leave you to it, Mathur. Build us a defense force!” She dashes out the door before the old man can reply.

Aishke groans, and Sai glares at her. “You wanted to learn. Stop acting like it’s the worst thing ever.”

Iria chuckles and walks over, a smile bright on her face. “You shouldn’t really complain. This is powerful stuff once you get it under control. This is Bastian-level stuff.”

This time, Aishke glances away, biting her lip. “I know. It’s just...difficult.”

Sai watches her. “Of course it’s difficult. Look at what you have the potential to do—would you want that to be easy?”

“No.” There’s a stubborn clench to her jaw, and yet her eyes are so sad.

Sai takes pity on her and lowers her voice. “In the world inside the cities, Aishke, you’re considered less than scum. We all are. They make us feel as if we owe them for giving us a home and a place to develop our skills. We’re expected to be grateful for the service, for being allowed to live. We’re expected to honor what we owe the GNW.”

She takes a deep breath, but pushes on, ignoring the expressions on Iria and Aishke’s faces. They might have been through a lot, but there was more to come, and they needed to understand the type of mindset they’d face. “We had to know how to fight or get the crap beaten out of us in skirmishes with our peers. We attended martial arts classes for defense, offense, ranged, and close combat. You either learned how to exploit people’s weaknesses or everyone knew how to exploit yours and your days were numbered.”

This time Sai takes a moment, looking pointedly at each of the others in turn before speaking again. “Life in the facilities taught us only two things: a general control of our abilities and to be the best we could no matter the cost.”

“No matter the cost?” Aishke repeats the words. She focuses on Sai and rolls her shoulders. “Time and energy to get control then?”

Sai nods. “Just ask Iria the amount of time she’s put into learning how to use those damned shields of hers. They’re getting stronger by the day, and while they were originally a good idea, with practice, they’re going to be phenomenal.”

Color suffuses Iria’s cheeks. “I haven’t done that much...” Her voice trails off as Sai scowls at her.

“I know how hard you’ve been working. I can see it in the way you’ve improved. I’ve not said it much, but I hope I show it. You’ve come such a long way. You don’t have raw power, but what you have developed is skill.”

Iria blinks, the smile on her face more genuine than Sai’s seen in a long time. “Thank you. Sometimes you just have to want something enough.”

“Apparently you want this a lot.” Sai nudges her with an elbow, and they both laugh.

Aishke scowls. “Fine. I’ll want to not kill people, because I was so gung-ho about it to start with.” Her lip trembles and tears well in her eyes, but she clenches her fists at her sides and nods. “I mean it... Let’s just do this.”

Sai walks over and squeezes one of the girl’s fists lightly. It’s about the extent of self-initiated physical contact she can manage with anyone who isn’t Dom. “You can do this, Aishke. I know you can.”

Her answer is a smile and another, more determined nod.

Sai claps her hands together. “Excellent, let’s—”

The knock at the door interrupts her, and she cranes her neck to glare at Kayde. “Yes?”

Kayde’s chest rises and falls rapidly, like she ran all the way there. “Meeting. Dom here. Now.”

Sai glances at the girls and nods. “Keep practicing the exercises, and don’t stop until you’ve got it down.” She only waits for them to nod at her before leaving the room.

The rounded walls of the hallway suddenly seem confining, and a refit crew replaces another of the gleaming white panels with dull silver. She peers closer as they pass. More and more of the panels are being retrofitted. The wastes are harsh on their homes. They need to be ready.

“This had better be good, Kayde,” she mutters as they walk. “If I don’t get their conditioning finished, I can’t finish the rest of their training and we’ll all be useless out there.”

Kayde shrugs and grins. “I’m just following orders, which were this: ‘Get Sai and get her now, never mind what she’s doing.’” She puts her hands up in surrender. “Couldn’t say no to that.”

“Then it’d better be bloody important.” She knows it is but can’t help shake the feeling that she still has so much to learn with her new legs, so much that’s still holding her back from performing at her peak right when they need her most.

“You should stop that, Sai.” Kayde stops her just before they walk into the room. “I can’t even sense thoughts, and I can tell how pissed off you are. Even if you don’t think you do anything, you represent what we’re trying to accomplish. We’re trying to make it possible for people to be free of the thought influence. You are the hope that it’s possible. If nothing else, just sit there and nod. It helps everyone, even if you think it doesn’t.”

“Is everyone a hobby psychologist these days?” All the good intentions are grating on her, but she smiles as they enter the room and greets everyone there with a nod as they look up from their discussion.

“...not going to be as easy as you all are thinking!” Mathur raises his voice slightly as she nears, obviously annoyed with a few of the people.

“Why?” Mason pokes at the readers and blueprints scattered over Mathur’s workstation. “It’s all clearly spelled out right here. I don’t see why we can’t easily put a stop to it.” For the first time since her accident, Sai can hear true hope in Mason’s voice. The wrinkles around his eyes are slightly less pronounced, and the deflated carriage he’s worn for weeks is absent.

James nods. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got my men training their asses off, but this would make the whole staying-alive thing a lot easier.”

Mathur throws his hands up in the air. “That is the point! In order to create this, I need to acquire the kernel from one of the command Damascus. Their lieutenants, and only their lieutenants, will have this. You have to stop one without doing
any
damage to its head—an almost impossible feat. If that were not enough, you have to detach the head and make sure you do not damage the receptors to the kernel because I require the whole thing
intact
.”

The room falls silent, and Sai finds herself holding her breath.

“There is a reason Tristan did not do this.” Mathur’s voice is softer, his tone imploring. “This is no ultimate measure that will rescue us all from death. To create this device, the Damascus must first be active, and then you must take down an entire unit—four soldiers, a Hound, and a lieutenant—completely and hope you have managed to preserve the lieutenant’s brain. Then you will have to bring me the head,
completely
undamaged, and hope against hope that the kernel is still live. Not just undamaged, but transmitting or capable of doing so. If the kernel is fried in the process, none of it matters. You will have to start over.”

He looks around the room, taking a few breaths to regain his composure. His hair tufts out to the side like there’s too much electricity in his body. “This is no miracle cure. I can create this device and leave all but the kernel attachment done. But not before they are activated, and not before we have to defend ourselves. My main concern is getting our one good fighting chance repaired. If I can fix the dominos, we might have a chance at the kernel.” Mathur stops and crosses his arms, almost daring anyone to prove him wrong.

Mason clears his throat, the crow’s feet and withered stance back in force. “I didn’t realize it would be so complex...” His voice trails off, uncertain.

“What on earth did you think your father did that entire two-month period of hell under the Damascus threat? He researched this and found out the only way to send the killing pulse is to do it using their own wavelengths. Making an artificial one does not work. It needs to be one that has had time to integrate with the others and form a link, a bond. If it were easier, they would not even be a threat. If it were easier, your mother would not be dead.”

Mason’s stance shifts, shoulders tense, and Sai has to stop herself from taking an involuntary step backward. She steps in before Mason can say something he regrets. “And psionics are useless against them, aren’t they?”

“Completely,” Mathur says.

“I’m not.” Dom pulls himself away from where he’d blended into the corner of the room and strides forward. Sai hadn’t even noticed he was there when she entered, although it wasn’t surprising. The device blueprints had to come from somewhere. He stops about two feet from Mathur and crosses his arms.

“I’m not useless. I can stop them, can’t I?” It’s formed as a question, but almost spoken as a statement. Dom seems so sure of himself it gives Sai shivers. It’s the first time she’s seen him so full of confidence, so sure of who and what he is. She’s not certain it’s a good thing, given everything else.

“Not only can you stop them, but you have the best chance of removing a head without destroying it,” Mathur admits, his tone soft. “All the dominos do.”

“Then why don’t I just do that?”

Sai cringes. He lost all his tact in the reset.

Mason steps around to stand next to them, his weariness evident again, but the anger seems dissipated. Because if you go it alone, Dom, you’ll have five Damascus and a Hound to deal with. Not even you can manage that unscathed.”

“What does it matter how scathed I am? As long as I get that kernel, everyone here can be safe.” His eyes flash through their colors, settling on red, and a ripple runs over his frame so fast, Sai isn’t sure if anyone else noticed it.