Hybrid (24 page)

Bastian watches as the young man grimaces while standing up. His lab coat is far too large for him, dwarfing his presence into the laughable.

Owen has to open his mouth twice before words come out. “We’ve linked them together in the same way we had the dominos linked before their malfunction. Due, however, to the different elements, this infrastructure communication should work a lot better. Damascus already have an inherent ability to network to each other. This just made it easier to tighten the connection.”

He sits down, owlish eyes blinking rapidly from behind his coke-bottle lenses.

“Exactly.” Deign claps her hands, startling everyone at the table into looking directly at her. “This isn’t the time for complacency, Bastian!”

He raises a hand to his mouth as if suppressing a yawn. The action helps dull the slight panic at her summons. If he’d reacted, it might have appeared suspicious. “Yes?”

“How is the school coming? Do you have the students picked out?”

Bastian nods. “You’ll want Nimue and Sai’s other two classmates together. They know her—at least, they know her better than any of us do. Every little bit helps.” He knew it would never be the case. Sai and Nimue seemed to have a much stronger friendship than he’d anticipated.

“The dominos?”

Bastian shrugs at Deign’s question, pushes down on the unease trying nauseate him, and feigns boredom. “Not my area of expertise. Davies was much more in tune with them, and well...” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t know how to track them if my life depended on it. They’re strong, hard to reach. My psionic skill set doesn’t lie in that direction.”

Deign clucks her tongue, and for a moment her face twists viciously. Gone almost as quickly as it arrived, she smiles condescendingly. “Just where does it...” She pauses and her face colors red. After all, she’s been the one to send Bastian on several of his assassination missions.

Owen raises a hand tentatively, barely at half-mast. Or perhaps it is up all the way and just appears diminished because of his smaller stature.

Deign nods at him, crosses her arms, and taps her foot impatiently.

“I’ve been working on an adjustment at the request of the fifth lieutenant of the Damascus patrols. He was the closest to the group that got decimated out in the desert not long ago. I’m basically adjusting their sensors.”

“Why?” Markus leans forward.

“He...they...” Owen frowns as he tries to explain. “You have to understand that, when one speaks, it’s known by every other lieutenant and filtered down to their subordinates. So it’s sort of like speaking to a hive mind. It’s not the most advanced system, but since there appears no way to break down this depth of communication, they’re rather formidable in how quickly they can react to any given situation.”

“Interesting.” Markus leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and glances around the room. No one, including Bastian, meets his gaze.

Owen’s shoulders rise a little, and he seems more at ease now he’s explained his difficulty defining who he’s spoken to. “They requested I assist them in altering their perception filters. It’s an optical adjustment they can’t perform themselves. Apparently when that first group died, they sent out a partial signal—a recognition, as it were. It appears that the Exiled are utilizing some form of adrium camouflage, probably similar to our own netting. The adjustments I made earlier today allows for them to compensate and should at least enable them to see the shimmer of movement, if not the actual vehicle. It will make them easier to locate, especially now we have a narrower search field after that massive energy release two days ago.”

“I suppose it makes sense that they’d be hiding from us,” Harlow murmurs, almost like she’s talking to herself. She doesn’t look up, though. Her eyes are focused on her implants, and her hands fly over her portable station in front of her.

Owen nods, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they slide down.

Deign laughs, her mood noticeably better. “Fantastic work, Owen. You might even have just proved yourself worthy of your newly acquired position.” She stands, smoothes down her shirt, and clears her throat. “With that in mind, we should launch a full-scale assault in a few days. As I understand, not all of the modifications have been completed yet, Owen?”

He shakes his head. “But they will be done soon. I have twelve people working on it.”

Deign nods and glances down at her reader. “We also have the research lab working on assembling or attempting to reassemble several more units of Damascus, correct?”

A collective gasp goes up from everyone in the room, apart from Owen and Bastian.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t look at me like that. If we can figure out how to assemble them, then perhaps we can correct whatever oversight we made in the initial construction.” She glances down at her notes once again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It’s one of the few nervous tells she has that Bastian is aware of. “I do believe we’re as prepared as we’re going to be. I’ll gather you all here again at the same time tomorrow to go over the progress and exact timing. We’re going to be very busy in a few days. Rest while you can.”

She waves them away, and Bastian pushes himself out of his chair. It’s an effort to keep his mind free of the panic.

“Bastian.” Deign’s voice is soft. “Will you stay a moment?”

He forces himself to stop and turn around to face her. “Of course.”

“You have a school board meeting this afternoon, correct?”

He nods.

“I need you to make sure everyone is aware things are about to get...involved. Our students are our future, and I want them aware of that. I need you to assemble the best two groups you have. Ones who might be able to aid out there in the field or here in the city if need be. You’ve got the crème of our youth in those classes—the strongest, the survivors. If anyone can help make sure this runs smoothly, I think they can.” The wrinkles around her eyes say she’s worried.

Bastian pries her fingers from around his hand, unaware of just when they became attached, and is extremely glad he’s wearing gloves so as to avoid skin contact. “I’ll be blunt, Deign. There is nothing my students can do that the people already under your command can’t. Half of them came from my school. Most of them are older than me. If fully trained grown men and women can’t help us when the Damascus turn—and mark my words, they will turn—then there is no hope for us. My students are not the miracle you’re seeking.”

“If they can get to the switch, everything will be fine.” Her eyes are full of assurance, of complete confidence that this is the right path, even if her back is a little too rigid.

Bastian feels cold to the core at the look she gives him. “You want me to give them a signal to flip the switch should it come to that?”

Deign nods. “It’d be better if you were the one. They’ll have to force themselves through, but you’ll have the passwords.”

Bastian nods and listens as she hands over his psionically imprinted key and tells him everything he needs to know.

Bastian closes the door to his office tightly behind him, snapping his wards closed as they seal. He reaches out with his mind and locates Dom, right where he thought he’d be. It’s almost nightfall, almost time for his friend to go. If they’d had a plan, this would be it falling apart. He’d never expected Deign to come up with so many different ways to obliterate the people who should be taking care of what’s left of their world. The United Conglomerate deserves so much better than the GNW.

“You’re agitated.” Dom’s voice is soft, and yet Bastian almost jumps out of his skin, even though he knew he was there.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he mutters, trying to stop his hands from shaking, his body from shaking.

“I didn’t. You already scanned for me. You were completely aware I was here. What’s the problem?” Dom’s eyes flicker slightly in the dim light, concern shading them.

Bastian sighs, broken thoughts flitting around in his Shine-filled head. “They’ll be ready to launch their offensive inside of a week. From the way Deign spoke, maybe less.”

Dom blinks. “That’s not enough time for Mathur to get the device working. It’s not enough time for anything. Barely enough time for me to warn them.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but there was nothing I could do. I’m not part of the science division, so sadly, I’m not in on everything I need to know. Owen has almost readjusted the optical sensors of the Damascus to detect the adrium camouflage wavelength. Everything is already in motion!”

Bastian pauses and gulps in some air, aware that he’s dangerously close to losing it. When he speaks, his usual control is back, though tenuously. “He’s increased the potency behind their communications channels, in the same vein as the dominos, but because of their different make-up, he’s sure they’ll withstand it without breaking down.”

A strange ripple crosses Dom’s face. “I have to get back.”

“Has it been long enough to recharge yet?”

Dom closes his eyes briefly. “By the time I get out there, it’ll have to do.”

“Warn them. Do whatever you can to prepare. I’ll work on things from this end.”

Dom’s form stabilizes. “Do you think...maybe you could find this core Sai talks about, too?”

Bastian blinks at him. That could be his answer. Find his core, obliterate everything, and know his sacrifice meant something. Sai would never forgive him for taking that many innocent lives. He almost laughs, but shakes his head instead, staving off the hysteria. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to make time to try. But I have so much to do.”

“What else can you possibly do, Bastian?”

Bastian smiles grimly and pushes down on the disorientation threatening to sweep over him. “She gave me the codes today, the psionic access to the switch. If all else fails, when people are sufficiently distracted—and they will be—I’ll figure out how to activate the switch myself.”

“And if they catch you? Can’t I do this?”

“You can’t. The code won’t work with your imprint. It’s clued to mine.” Bastian bites down on the snake of fear that winds its way through his gut.

“This could be a trap, Bastian.” Dom’s tone is soft, with a strange hint for the hybrid. It sounds oddly like fear.

Bastian smiles. “Even if it is, I’ll flip the switch and escape. Don’t worry.” He wonders if the words sound as resigned as he feels.

Dom looks at Bastian for a long moment, his eyes flickering, and he hesitates twice before speaking. “I will be back here in seven days, specifically to help you escape. Don’t do anything before I can get you out of here.”

Bastian smiles, unable to hide his relief, even if it’s just that his friend is still himself, still cares this much. “I won’t do it without you.” He wonders if Dom can still detect lies. “Thank you. Now go.”

Dom frowns and suddenly hugs Bastian so tightly his lungs whoosh the last of his breath out.

“Don’t be stupid. Wait for me.” And then Dom turns and exits out the passage leading from the dojo section of the office.

Bastian watches the door for a long time after it closes behind his friend, fighting the sinking feeling in his stomach that something is going to go horribly wrong.

Sai stands in the loading bay, her mind blank, staring at her hands. There’s nothing she can do anymore. People will die; the Exiled will die. There’s just no way for her to manage her abilities and teach everyone else to do the same. It’s the only thought in her head as Dom pulls into the bay in
Mele
.

The expression on his face does little to alleviate her inner turmoil. “You have bad news.” Even to her own ears, the tone of her voice falls flat. She gives herself a little shake, determined to pull herself out of the funk she’s fallen into the last few days.

He glances at her, his upper lip clenched between his teeth in an overly human gesture he seems unconscious of. “You’re not just worried about what news I bear—which, by the way, is worse than you think, but perhaps better than it could be. What’s on your mind? You’re not usually this...” He pauses, searching for the word. “Not usually this apathetic.”

Sai feels herself blush with embarrassment at the accurate description. “It’s just been a bad few days.” She takes a breath and falls into step with him, hesitating a moment before touching his hand. Their fingers link lightly, feather-soft, but as she speaks, her grip tightens. “We didn’t make it out to the final nomad settlement in time—they’re gone. That’s the second one. Twelve hundred people. That’s a lot of people, Dom. Not captured, not taken away—just gone. All dead.”

Dom clenches his jaw, and a ripple of color passes through him, so brief she’d have missed it if she wasn’t paying attention, but it shows how tightly he’s keeping himself under control. That and how hard he squeezes her fingers in return. “And yourself? Aishke? Mathur?”

“Mathur has almost finished making adjustments. Just several more of your siblings to go and he’ll be done with the lot of them. They’ve been training, drilling, helping, and listening to James’ instructions. Sometimes they’re so silent you don’t know they’re there.”
They’re not like you
, she wants to add, but thinks it better not to. Dom isn’t quite being himself. There’s a subtle undercurrent warring beneath his skin, almost like it’s trying to break free. Her grip of his hand shifts, more about grounding him than anchoring her.

He nods and glances at a packet he carries in his free hand. “I’ve informed Mathur we’re on our way to the observation deck. People should be convened by the time we get there. We only have a few minutes, and you’ve yet to tell me about yourself and Aishke.”

Sai feels cold all of a sudden and hugs her chest with one arm as they walk. If she lets go, there’s a chance she might not reel him back to himself. “I’m as well as can be expected. There aren’t many of us with enough initial power to even make training with the technique I’ve been developing worthwhile. Iria is doing better than I expected. Both Mason and James are coming along in leaps and bounds. And Aishke...” She can’t bring herself to say it. The reality hurts far too much.

“Aishke?” he prompts her gently as they round the final corner before the deck entrance. Bringing her to a halt with a tug of her hand, he looks her directly in the eyes.

“Aishke hasn’t woken up yet.”

Dom’s grip tightens. He opens his mouth, but stops and shakes his head, moving so his body is a hairsbreadth away from touching her. “It’ll be okay.” The words are so soft. They’re like a brush of air over her face, a cool and relaxing breeze, and in the back of her mind, she can’t help wondering just what the domino psionic DNA involves.

“Yeah.” She squeezes back, and he focuses on her with a nod before dropping her hand as he turns and enters the conference room, the subtle undercurrent nowhere in sight.

Even though it’s cold where he touched her, Sai suddenly feels relieved. Maybe not everything is lost after all.

The view through the front viewport as the Mobile navigates the wasteland is equal parts beautiful and terrifying. Red soil emphasizes the barren landscape in front of them. It’s a sort of mockery that life-sustaining crops are no longer welcome here. A scattering of ancient electrical propeller mills dot the landscape in the distance. Those with still spinning blades are so rusted with age, the contraptions look like a slow whirl of blood-stained knives in the setting sun’s light. Most mills have fallen into disrepair, blades crumbling at the feet of the poles that once held them high—like they’ve given up. A shiver runs down her spine with an odd sense of foreboding.

The feeling doesn’t last for long. Kayde bumps her elbow, pulling Sai out of her contemplations with a grin. Mason walks in with Jeffries, heads bowed in discussion of something Sai can’t strain enough to hear. Iria and James enter together, and Mathur stands behind a console, flicking through something that reflects light back onto his face. It’s probably why they’re meeting on the bridge. The tension is so thick it’s suffocating.

“Our camouflage won’t protect us from them anymore. They’ll be able to hone in on us in an approximate area. The Mobiles are large targets once you know that shimmer on the horizon isn’t heat, but a huge vehicle city.” Dom starts in immediately, not beating around the bush.

The silence is deafening. Sai’s sense of foreboding is confirmed. Great.

“Maybe it’s not that bad? Mathur has almost finished reinitializing the other dominos. If we can set up an ambush, I can probably take care of most of them.” Her voice sounds stronger than she feels, but stubbornness won’t let her back down. They need to stay positive. They can’t let this cripple their plans.

Dom shakes his head. “That’s not the only news I bring.” He puts the flat package down on the table and unwraps the protective cloth. “Bastian got this to me just before I left, probably at greater risk than he should have taken.”

The reader lies on the table, gleaming up at them with an evil twinkle. Dom touches the screen, and it flares to life, listing names, locations, and duty divisions.

“Bastian is under orders to instruct not only the faculty, but any students of the facilities who’re capable to use their abilities and learn to tap into the net in order to keep the populace calm. Those who are...stronger will be focused on specific problems away from the net.”

“Isn’t that what the grid is supposed to do anyway?” Sai asks.

Mathur’s speaks softly, yet loud enough that it carries through the whole room. “Technically, but not everyone is as heavily influenced. For those with some level of psionic protection by way of a dormant gene? Harsher, more forceful thought manipulation is a safer bet.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” James speaks up for the first time, his thick arms folded over a muscular chest. “Maybe they won’t get hurt that way?”

“Nothing will bother them, James. Those with a dormant psionic gene are usually relatively safe, but with some amount of focus...” Mathur turns to Kayde. “With focus, many of them will be in danger as well. If at all possible, Kayde, we need the Ebony adaption soon.”

Kayde laughs. “You’re lucky I don’t listen when you give me orders, old man.”

Mathur nods, but the twinkle in his eye is outweighed by the wrinkles of concern around them. “I count on it. Timeline?”

She closes her eyes, lips moving in a silent series of what are probably calculations. When she focuses back on him, her grin lights up her whole face. “Maybe ten days? Could push it to a week?”

“Seriously? Have you been sleeping at all?” A scattering of laughter circles the room, ebbing the tension slightly.

“I’ve been working on it a while, and Petri’s helped.” Kayde smiles, and her eyes sparkle. It’s her element. “Keep in mind that I’m limited in my testing here, and it’s not quite ready for that yet. I’ll put more emphasis on it.” Her brow furrows for a moment. “I can’t guarantee it, but I’ll work my butt off.”

Dom holds up his hand. “That’s great and all, but the Damascus will be ready in the next few days. We need to scatter Mobiles now, so they don’t have a concentrated target. There’s one more thing. I brought you a present, Mathur.”

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a smaller wrapped object, which he places in Mathur’s hand. “A kernel.”

Mathur takes, it, unwrapping it carefully. The tiny ball is littered with thousands of minuscule circuits. “Perfect, Dom. How did you...”

Dom laughs, a little self-depreciatingly, and looks away from his maker. “Let’s just say, if all else fails before they take us down, I should at least be able to take some of them with me. You’ll need to make that machine faster than you thought possible. Everything has to happen quicker. Bastian is trying to delay them, but has to be subtle about it. Regardless, in just under a week I’ll go back to help him sneak in to shut them down.”

“That’s far too dangerous. Is he suicidal?” Sai blurts the words out, that sense of trepidation back in full force.

“Not at all. He’s considering the bigger picture.”

It’s the first time Dom’s origin has ever stood out this starkly. His voice is distant, almost alien. Sai shivers as he continues to speak.

“If he manages to shut them down, he saves many lives for the price of his. You have to realize, Owen—their new science officer—is close to making Damascus
production
a possibility. The last thing we need is more of them. If Bastian uses the machine to shut them down, he will destroy it. If he destroys it, they can’t reactivate them again until they’ve repaired or rebuilt it. There are things that were done to those machines that only Bastian’s father and Mathur know about.”

He scans the room for a long moment, meeting each person’s eyes. “We have few options. I will be back in Central within a week’s time to assist him with the escape, should he need it. There’s a time crunch now. Thanks to Aishke’s outburst a few days ago, they know the general area we were in. There’s only so far we can travel.”

“I have two full teams of medics prepared. It’s been the one thing I could organize this time around.” Jeffries shrugs. “There’s nothing more I can do until casualties start pouring in.”

“There will be far too many of those,” Mathur murmurs. “Kayde, get that Ebony ready. If we release it when Dom goes to help Bastian, we may have more people on our side than the GNW was counting on.”

“The gods know we’re going to need it.” Mason speaks for the first time since the meeting convened. His face is pale, eyes shadowed by the bags underneath them, but his voice still holds that leader’s strength. “So they’re going to utilize the psionic abilities of the students to seek out problem areas in the public and strong-arm them?”

Dom nods.

Mason purses his lips. “My brother isn’t stupid. Let’s hope he can pull this off. Are the dominos ready, Mathur?”

“Almost. I will need at least another week with them, to be perfectly honest. There are aspects of their nature which were incorrectly acclimated. I have had to adjust and tweak a few behavioral norms which were fairly skewed. But give me a good week, and we’ll be done.”

“Faster with Dom’s help?” Mason persists.

Mathur shrugs. “Definitely. He is more adept than I.” He smiles a weary smile.

Dom claps his hands together, making most people in the room jump. “If that’s it then, I think we have enough to work on.” He exits the room with Mathur before Sai can catch him. Somehow she manages to keep her earlier feelings of desperation at bay.

The beeps of the machine attached to Aishke are annoying. Sai finds herself counting each one, reaching sixty and starting from the beginning as she watches the slow rise and fall of her friend’s chest. There’s so much they’ve been through, so much they have yet to go through.

All that’s left is to organize themselves and throw their best effort toward preserving the life they have.

She sighs and draws circles on her friend’s hand. Round and round, figure eights, slowly counting the beeps.

“You know, that really tickles. If I had energy, I’d laugh.” The voice is breathy, but definitely Aishke.

Sai sits up with a start. “You’re awake?” She looks down at the still form of her friend whose eyes are still closed and frowns.

“I’m awake. Just so tired.” Aishke’s lips barely move.

Sai resists the urge to gather her up in a bear-hug. Instead, she leans forward and hugs the stray hand she was tickling. “I’ve missed you.”