Operation Hydra (10 page)

“And you’re going to direct me?”

“This isn’t a competition.
Stop being so difficult.
Tell me about the vision, or don’t. I intend to liberate the Center, with or without your cooperation.” He sat and raked his hair with both hands, releasing an exasperated breath. “You have good reason to be wary. I understand why you don’t trust me, but I need your help. And whether or not you’re ready to accept it, you need mine too.”

She returned to her chair, her expression as frustrated as his. He braced for the next topic. She was going to love this. “I know it’s embarrassing, but I need to understand. Why does he give the occupants Libidium? Is it simply a means of control?”

“Hydran is all about control.”

“Why didn’t you tell me
…
You figured I knew.” He sighed, glancing away.

“Actually, I didn’t realize what he’d given me until you went to destroy my clothes. When he gave it to me the first time, he used a mister, like the one he used on Belle.”

“And this time?”

“The guards held my head down and he pressed something to the back of my neck. It was absorbed through my skin and into my spine.”

“Was the effect the same both times?”

“That’s hard to judge.” An echo of desire shone in her purple eyes before she lowered her lashes. “The first time, I just linked with Belle and she dispersed the drug. This time… you were there.”

“Is this what started your fascination with the Companion?” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

“The Companion!”
She reached across the workstation and grabbed his wrist. “How could I have forgotten what the Companion told me? There’s some sort of a message waiting for me. We have to get to Meditek.”

* * * * *

Krysta’s “resident hell-raiser” title had never felt so cumbersome. The faces of
her
people flashed through her mind, their expressions resolute, their eyes filled with determination. She couldn’t fail them now. They had never been this close before.

They looked to her, needed her — and she had never felt so out of control. If she was right, if her prophecy was true, they would finally be free. But one wrong move, one bad decision, and the consequences would be unthinkable.

She hadn’t campaigned to be their leader, but even Hydran’s attitude toward her made the role inevitable. She was different — no, she and Belle were different than the others. From before her birth, twenty-eight minutes before Belle, Krysta had been engineered to be different.

She’d been ushered from one cage to another all day. This room was even smaller than the cluttered office, but it was infinitely more comfortable. Three wide viewports showcased a spectacular section of star-studded sky and the glowing blue Earth below.

The door hissed, drawing her attention from the starry vista. A man entered the room. To say he walked denigrated the smooth grace with which he moved. Long, pale gray robes rippled around his tall form, adding to the illusion that he floated like a wraith.

Something long and purest white covered his head, circled his shoulders at an angle, and wrapped around his waist.
A scarf?
No, the elaborate headdress was in fact his hair. Woven into the most intricate pattern she had ever seen, his hair would likely brush the floor were it not circling his body. She consciously dragged her gaze to his face and gasped.
Those eyes.
She knew those bright, green eyes.

“Vee?”
A giddy little shudder accompanied the recognition.

“Yes, child.
I thought we would both be more comfortable without the artifice.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“This is
his
private study,” Trey said. “I should hope so.”

She gulped. Trey stood just inside the door and she hadn’t even noticed him. That had to be a first. He stalked across the room. His movements had their own sort of grace, the strong, predatory grace of the animal sanctuary cats — a ghost and a lion. She licked her lips to hide her smile. Flanked by two matching chairs, a small sofa awaited her. Vee sat in one chair and Trey took the other.

“We’ve located Meditek,” Trey informed her without preamble. “It’s deep in the Asian Sector, so we’ll have to leave our present orbit.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.” She brushed impatiently at her bangs.

“We either lose the ability to continually monitor the Center or someone has to go in the shuttle, which isn’t meant for long-range travel.”

She fiddled with the sleeve of her uniform, unsure if she was excited or afraid. “How long will it take in the shuttle?”

“With the necessary stops to recharge the fuel cells, two days there, two days back.”

Crossing her legs, she tried to ignore the jittery tension building in her belly. “It doesn’t seem wise to pull the ship out of orbit. Who’s going in the shuttle?”

“As you saw, Vee is able to alter his appearance…”

Krysta immediately raised her hand, but didn’t say a word.

“I’ve explained what little you told me, and I was hoping you would… why is your hand in the air?”

“You hate to be interrupted.”

Vee laughed so quietly Krysta thought she imagined it until she saw the sparkle in his emerald eyes. He was enjoying the show, not bothering to join the conversation.

“Clearly you have something to interject,” Trey grumbled.

“Vee is like me. He has unusual abilities. Doubtless, he emits the frequency.”

“The frequency?”

“The security grid.
You mentioned it a little while ago. What did you call it
…
Mystic energy?
Mystic energy resonates at a specific frequency. They isolated the frequency range; that’s what triggers the alarms.”

“Who are they?” Vee asked, his eyes glowing softly. She had apparently piqued his interest.

“Dr. Stacey and his team.
That’s why Hydran lured him away. He needed the technology.”

“Lured
him
away?” Trey tapped his fingers against his knee. “You’re not talking about Hydran’s daughter.”

Krysta shook her head, glancing from Trey’s handsome face to Vee’s intent expression and back again. “No. Corra married Rawdon Stacey a couple years ago. But he’d been with the project for five or six years before that.”

“And Rawdon Stacey was lured away from Meditek. So, you think Hydran would be informed if anyone with Mystic energy walked into Meditek?”

“Oh, I doubt it would get that far. I think alarms would go off, and gates would slam down, and who knows where we’d end up.”

“Then what was
your
plan?”

She wasn’t about to admit she didn’t have one. “How many of your crew
speak
Earthish?”

“Disqualifying the Mystics, Dro Tar, Al Varellien, and me.”

“Dro Tar is already under cover. Who is Al Varellien?”

“A very competent communications officer, but he has minimal field training.”

“It is permissible to temporarily relinquish command of thy ship to me,” Vee suggested.

The room all but crackled with Trey’s resistance. Stars above, he didn’t like that idea at all. “It seems to be the only way.”

“And once we get to Meditek?” Trey flared. “How are we going to get this mysterious package? Don’t
you
resonate
the Mystic frequency?”

“Surely, ye are not afraid —”

“Not one word,” Trey snapped at Vee. He shot to his feet, his head turning toward Krysta. “Looks like you get your way, sweetheart. Hope you can handle it.”

She was smart enough not to poke a stick at an angry lion.

“We leave in the morning. What do you need to be ready?”

“Just basic provisions and…” She swallowed, almost afraid to ask. “Is Dro Tar on duty?”

Trey’s eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed. “Why?”

“It isn’t absolutely essential, but it may make things much easier if we have my control module to the Companion.”

“For what purpose?”

“The control module works on
any
Companion. It stores your individual preferences and the progress you’ve made in certain types of games. I saved the coded messages and instructions on my module. A lot of it didn’t make sense then, but once we learn more, and it starts making sense, we don’t want to be at the mercy of my memory.”

“I’ll contact Dro Tar.”

Pressing her hand to her chest, Krysta collapsed against the back of the sofa as he left the room. Her heart hammered against her palm and she couldn’t help but smile. “What is it with you two? I thought only Hydran had perfected the art of pushing buttons.”

“Pushing buttons?” His serene expression remained unchanged.

“You’re not as immune as you pretend. I felt a surge in your vibration when he ordered you to shut up.”

His jewel-like eyes narrowed and his face tilted the other direction. “Ye can sense emotions? I was told ye were a healer.”

Krysta laughed. He was playing dumb. “Look, I felt you in my mind. I know what you are. More importantly, I know how well you do it.”

“Meaning?”

“I can’t list your actual abilities, but you’re extremely powerful.” The more she tried to explain, the more foolish she felt. She should have left well enough alone. “Hydran has tried to convince me that I’m a freak, a biological anomaly. But when I felt you in my mind…”

He moved beside her on the sofa and took her hand lightly between his. “All will be made clear in time. Ye are safe.”

She accepted his assurance with a smile, but he obviously didn’t understand what she was trying to say. Personal safety was irrelevant so long as Operation Hydra imprisoned her people. Hydran had made her feel diseased, defective. But after her encounter with Vee, Krysta had stopped longing for a cure.

* * * * *

Dro Tar handed Trey a slim black case with a handle on one end and a geometric logo with Earthish lettering:
The Companion (vs. 6.3).

“This is a control module?” he asked.

“Yep.
Two of the sweetest old ladies you could ever meet helped me find it. It was almost as if they knew what I was up to and why.
Sort of freaked me out.”

“How did you get it out of the Center?”

“Please.” She batted her long eyelashes. “I distracted the guard.”

He set the case beside his chair and tossed back the rest of his blish. It was late. They had the lounge to themselves. While he was still good and surly, he’d contacted Dr. Hydran, told him Krysta was so incapacitated by the Libidium that she hadn’t been much good to him and he intended to shuttle her to a resort until she recuperated. Hydran hadn’t been pleased, but he’d agreed to leave Belle in stasis until they returned.

“You look like hell, if you don’t mind my saying so,” Dro Tar said with a playful smile.

“And if I mind?”

“It doesn’t change your face.”

He rubbed at the crick in his neck. “My face is probably the thing that has changed the least in the past ten cycles.”

“A lot has changed. But why are the changes bothering you tonight?”

“I can’t help feeling like I’m rescuing my ruin.”

She was quiet for a moment and Trey smiled. It took a lot to make Dro Tar thoughtful.

“That’s a convoluted way of looking at it, but I think I get it. Another royal twin was bad enough, but now you have over two hundred refugees to contend with.”

After a noncommittal sound, he considered her words. He’d been reared from the cradle to step into his father’s august shoes, educated as a diplomat, trained by the most grueling commanders in the City of Tears, and he’d excelled. But when his father retired from the Ontarian High Council two years ago, the council had voted not to replace him. The House of Aune already had a representative on the High Council: Charlotte, the High Queen. Their unexpected decision had slammed the door shut on his future, setting him adrift on an ever-changing sea.

“Charlotte’s abilities have put undue emphasis on people with Mystic power.
In my humble opinion.”

She laughed. “There’s nothing humble about you. You think Krysta and the others will swing the balance even farther?”

“Krysta, and Belle, and the other two hundred occupants, all with Mystic abilities.
Yeah, I’m concerned that the changes Charlotte began will be amplified by this new influx…” He didn’t finish the thought. It wasn’t like him to tie himself in knots, but this entire situation abraded from all directions.

She unbuttoned the jacket of her orderly uniform and tossed it over a chair. Trey looked at the white logo on her black tee shirt. It either advertised an ancient musical group or a metal manufacturer. He decided not to ask. “How was your first day of work?”

“Confusing.”
She kicked off her boots, dragged one of the other chairs in front of her, and propped up her feet. “I was taken on a tour of the Center. The place is really amazing. I’ve been on penal colonies that could learn a thing or two from Dr. Hydran.”

“But why is a medical program run like a prison? Why is it allowed to go on?”

“I can hypothesize or I can continue my report.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.”

“When not escorting inmates, oops, I meant occupants from one area to
another,
the orderlies double as guards, so I spent much of my day observing the common areas in each ward.”

“Did they let you in ward D?”

“Hardly.
Only a select few are allowed anywhere near ward D. I learned lots of fascinating facts, however. The world according to Hydran is far different than the world as we know it.”

“What does that mean?”

“He has these poor fools believing they have some sort of genetic abnormality. According to the occupants, the purpose of Operation Hydra is to interrupt the cycle of genetic deformity so it doesn’t reoccur in their offspring, and ultimately, to heal them.”

Trey thought he was too tired to get angry, but his chest tightened and he shoved his chair back. Rubbing his eyes, he realized he still wore the irritating black film. “He’s going to heal them of being Ontarian?”