Mind Storm (12 page)

“I'm not paralyzed,” Threnody said.

“That's not what I asked.”

“There's some numbness.” Threnody bit her bottom lip and struggled the rest of the way up. “I've lost some muscle control.”

“We need a real medical center with a biotank and nanites. The disconnect you're experiencing is going to be lethal in another day or two if we don't get you fixed up all the way.”

“I know.”

It was more than just knowing that she was dying from the inside out. Jin Li's power had short-circuited her body just as it had in Johannesburg. Only back then, she'd been at her best. This time, she'd been patched. Her nervous system was breaking down, a slow, uncontrollable death that would eventually trickle down from the voluntary functions to the
in
voluntary functions of her body. Quinton didn't want to watch her drown with air in her lungs.

You'll be all right,
Lucas said into her mind alone as they reached a heavily secured door. He opened it telekinetically.
Korman fixed what he could after pulling out the neurotracker. He's done the same sort of operation on other Strykers over the years. Your power will do the rest on its own. Aisling said today isn't your time to die. Neither is tomorrow. You'll recover.

Who the hell is Aisling?

You'll find out soon enough.

His promise wasn't one Threnody would ever trust. Lucas just laughed off her fear as they stepped outside.

Camden Market shone with the glitter of hologrids against the evening sky, neon light edging their faces as they joined a crowd looking for an escape that would never be found in the gutters. Not here, not in the place that was the world's entertainment and pleasure center, built on the back of the skin trade.

The streets teemed with people looking to sell, looking to buy, looking to forget, areas of London carved into territories by gangs who would never live longer than their next adrenaline rush if they were lucky. Whores sold themselves with a look, on their knees no matter their gender so long as the price was right. Addicts looked for their next fix, hands curved into the signs of their individual requests, begging for the next possible high. And all through the miscreants roamed the gray-uniformed quads of military soldiers, their pulse-rifles set to kill, never to stun. They were the only law down here, but it was anyone's guess on who lined their pockets this hour—the government or those on the streets.

Lucas led the Strykers with telepathic and telekinetic chains that replaced the collars the eyeless doctor had cut away. His power guided them to an outside pub that was all counter and nothing else. Aside from the watered-down beer—the vidscreens behind the barkeep advertised a dozen different drafts, but only two ever poured out at any given time—the place also doled out protein meals. Plastic bowls full of GMO rice and cubes of colorless protein that had no flavor would never be their first choice, but it was calories, and they needed that almost as badly as they needed answers.

The Strykers practically fell on the bowls Lucas passed out to them at the far end of the long bar, space provided to them by a subtle telepathic nudge. The beer was stale and warm, but it was distilled enough that it didn't taste too acidic. Lucas watched them eat over his own bowl, dark blue eyes still hidden behind his glasses.

“Does your entire family consist of psions?” Threnody asked around a mouthful of food, ignoring how much it hurt to chew while she watched a heavily armed quad walk past their position. She hunched her shoulders a little and turned her face away from the four soldiers.

“We can trace our lineage back to the Border Wars” was all Lucas said.

“Fuck,” Kerr muttered. “I'm going to take that as a yes.”

“Why didn't you kill us?” Threnody wanted to know.

“I needed you alive,” Lucas said. “A rebellion can't consist of just one person if everything is going to get accomplished.”

He was looking at Threnody when he said it, the twist of his lips almost a smile. A flash of bleached-out violet eyes flickered through her mind again. The memory wasn't hers and it hurt after the operation she had just gone through. She reached up to press one hand against the side of her already aching head, as if she could press the pain way by sheer will alone.

“Stop it,” Threnody said.

“Thren?” Quinton said, glancing between her and Lucas. When Lucas ignored him, Quinton reached out and gripped his partner's shoulder. “What's wrong?”

“I'm making a point,” Lucas said.

Quinton glared at him. “Get out of her head.”

Threnody grabbed hold of Quinton and kept him in his seat by digging her fingernails into his skin. Quinton didn't move. Lucas stayed in her mind.

“Aisling makes it difficult to believe in her.” Lucas took another bite.
Always has, though the results are worth the effort.

His telepathy flared up in their minds, reminding them that he was, and would remain, there in the back of their thoughts until he chose to let them go. If he ever did.

“Who?” Kerr finally asked for all of them.

“Not who,” Lucas corrected. “What. She's the reason why I'm doing this. She's the reason why I need all of you.”

Kerr frowned. “When do we meet her?”

“You don't.”

“So, if you're not going to kill us, and we don't get to meet some girl, when are you going to mindwipe us?” Jason said, mouth twisting with disgust. “Or have you done it already?”

“As of right now, I need you all with minds and personalities intact. Though I'll have to find time to fix what your side never bothered to diagnose. You Strykers never cease to astound me with your stupidity. Two wrongly Classified psions active and in the field. You were both accidents waiting to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Threnody said. “And can you do it more quietly? Someone will hear you.”

“Everyone's ignoring us because I'm telling them to. They won't remember a thing. What I'm talking about is the mess that are those two.” Lucas took another bite of food, chewed, swallowed it, then pointed his fork at Jason and Kerr. “Or didn't you know both are dual psions and that Jason hasn't reached his full potential yet?”

Jason and Kerr stared at Lucas as if he were absolutely crazy. “You don't know what you're talking about,” Kerr said flatly.

“Fuck you,” Lucas said with a bark of laughter. “I'm a Class I triad psion. I know the human and not-so-human mind better than any Stryker ever will. I know what you are, Kerr, and I know what Jason should be.”

“I'm a Class II telepath.”

“Also a Class IX empath, something your side apparently missed when giving you your Class rank.”

The look in Kerr's eyes was glacial. His tone was just as cold. “That's impossible. A Class IX is a baseline human ranking and I think I
know
my own mind.”

“A Class IX still has traces of psion power. It's the gradient Class, the one where people are either mostly human or mostly not,” Lucas explained in a tone one reserved for a small child. “Your telepathic strength overshadowed your secondary power by a huge margin, and there's no one Classed higher than you in the Strykers Syndicate to ferret out that channel of empathic power.
You
might not have known your empathy was there, but your
mind
did. Over the years, it tried to compensate for it. The result is that you're a fucking mess and your shields always fall because you can't gear mental shields solely toward one power when you've got two.”

Lucas looked at Jason. “And you. A Class V telekinetic with natal shields that have never fallen. Didn't it
ever
occur to anyone in your Syndicate that our first shields need to fall in order to release our powers, or haven't you ever wondered about what your mind is still holding back?”

Jason recoiled from Lucas as if he'd been burned.

“Scientists can reverse engineer pretty much any technological equipment on the planet given enough approval from the government,” Lucas said. “I can reverse engineer the process of the human mind. You need access to all your power, Jason. I just need to figure out how to make that happen.”

“That's impossible,” Jason said. “My shields won't break. People have tried.”

“Not hard enough. If the government can rebuild space shuttles for a launch into space, then I sure as hell can find a way to break your shields.”

“What are you talking about?” Threnody said sharply. “What launch?”

Lucas signaled the barkeep for another bowl of food. He had hardly touched his beer. “I suppose if I said that I wanted all of you to trust me, you wouldn't believe me.”

“We're Strykers,” Quinton said. “We don't trust anyone.”

“Then you'll have to believe in ulterior motives, and not just my own.” The barkeep placed the requested bowl in front of Lucas without really seeing him. Lucas mixed the food all together before starting in on it. “How good is your history?”

“Regarding what?” Kerr said.

“Everything. Specifically, what started the Border Wars.”

“A launch command” was Quinton's sardonic answer as he took a swallow of his beer. “Several thousand of them.”

Lucas smiled humorlessly. “Yes, but over what?”

“Who knows? Resources, probably. Everyone back then was fighting over what their neighbors had, same as they are right now.”

“Depends on the neighbors. Countries blew each other up because no one could launch a nuke to Mars and hope it would hit the colony there.”

All four Strykers gave Lucas their undivided attention at that announcement, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion in their eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Threnody asked slowly.

“It's not common knowledge. The government didn't want it to be.” Lucas shrugged his opinion on that. “They couldn't wipe out the fact that the Border Wars happened because we're living with the aftermath still, but they were able to make people forget the reason
why
it all started. Everyone wanted an escape to Mars from a dying Earth, and in the end, no one got it. The world population was small enough after the war happened, and people were desperate enough, to accept the dictates of the World Court as the new government so long as they were saved. Funny how things haven't really changed.”

“That's crazy,” Jason said. “A colony on Mars? Our ancestors practically destroyed Earth over
Mars
?”

“Mars was in the process of being terraformed. The colony there was half a generation old already, according to the reports I've been able to find, and it was growing. They already had an energy source from giant solar panels in geosynchronous orbit around the planet and at two Lagrangian points between the sun and Mars. They were working on getting a viable atmosphere when the Border Wars happened. Communication died after that. So did supply runs by the ship that's still cold-docked on the other side of the moon.”

“A ship,” Quinton echoed.

“A
colony
ship, to be precise. The government calls it the Ark.” Lucas glanced up at the night sky, which could just be seen past the tops of the buildings that surrounded them. “Bloody thing still has a functioning system, even after all these years. The government got it completely back online about twenty-five years ago.
That
was the mission of the World Court's first manned space launch.”

“We lost the capability for space flight after the Border Wars. It killed off most of the population and nearly all the scientists and engineers,” Threnody said. “The closest vehicle we've got to a space-faring one are atmospheric shuttles, and they've got limits. They're still earthbound and only registered humans have the right to use them.”

Lucas cocked his head to the side as he stared at her. “Humans hate limits and the government hates the limits of this planet even more. The
government
never forgot what the Border Wars were fought over. The
government
never forgot about Mars and the colony there. Neither did my family. Why do you think the Serca Syndicate pushed for the Fifth Generation Act and the Registry? Not everyone can leave Earth for Mars, and not everyone will. The government is going to make sure of that. They're going to leave behind everyone who's not on the Registry, and I've got it on good authority that not everyone in the Registry is going to make it into space either.”

The four Strykers were silent in the face of that confession, staring at Lucas and each other as they struggled to swallow a history that made too much sense for it not to be the truth.

“The government thinks Mars is the answer, a new beginning for the human race.
Just
the human race,” Lucas said. “Psions aren't human, according to their laws. You Strykers are all going to be dead come the final launch date. Termination is scheduled for the week the space shuttles launch, and Ciari knows it. There's nothing she can do about it.”

“They wouldn't kill all of us,” Jason protested. “They need us.”

Lucas gave him a pitying look. “The World Court isn't going to allow psions on Mars, which is ironic, considering the Serca Syndicate has had berths reserved since before the Fifth Generation Act was passed. And as you all know now, even if the government doesn't, the Warhounds belong to the Serca Syndicate.”

Lucas's words tumbled through Threnody's mind as she struggled to make sense of what he was telling them. “Does Ciari know about you Sercas?” she asked.

“Every OIC does.”

The betrayal was like a sucker punch to the gut. Threnody stared at Lucas, a bleakness in her eyes that hadn't been there seconds ago. “Then why doesn't she report what she knows to the World Court?”