“I wiped her brother’s mind,” Aisly said. “He won’t remember a thing. But her?” She nodded toward Cara. “She’s learned to block her thoughts. We can’t risk it. You know what has to happen.”
Troy must have made eye contact and unwittingly told Aisly everything. He was probably out there staring at the wall in a drool coma.
“Kill her quietly,” Aisly added. “I won’t do it for you.” She glared at Jaxen as if to say, I told you so. “Your fascination with them is absurd. Let this be a lesson to you—that they should all die fighting the Aribol. Even the finest among humans is unworthy of the new order.”
It was then that Cara understood who had framed her at the Aegis. Her instincts had been right when she’d suspected that her death wasn’t the only goal. “Is that why you tried to have me discredited?” she asked. “To convince everyone that humans aren’t worth saving? That you should only keep us alive so we can fight for you on the front lines?”
The girl’s sick smile confirmed it. “At least your kind is useful for something.”
Cara remembered Jaxen’s words from moments ago. I may still find a use for the remainder of your kind. He would force humans to fight the Aribol, and after the war, when the survivors had outlasted their usefulness, he’d let them die out slowly. He had no intention of fixing Earth’s water crisis.
Jaxen peered at her with such hurt in his eyes that she almost felt sorry for him. But not quite. She darted to the nearest capital guard and ripped the iphal from his holster, then aimed it at Jaxen’s chest.
“Stay back,” Cara ordered, eyeing Aisly, too. “Both of you.”
“She can’t fire it,” Aisly said. “I watched her at the Aegis.”
Testing her, Jaxen took a step toward another guard, clearly meaning to arm himself. “Stop,” Cara yelled, raising her weapon. When Jaxen chanced another step, she focused on his chest and thought, Fire!
But nothing happened.
“Stop,” she repeated and fired again.
Nothing.
In a panic, she tried two more times without success.
Aisly laughed while Jaxen’s face broke into an arrogant smile. “When we use humans in battle, clearly we’ll need to equip them with simpler tools, like clubs and blades.”
Cara closed her eyes to focus, and when she opened them, Jaxen was lifting an iphal from the guard at his side.
“I hate to do this,” he said with a faint sigh. “I have the genetic material to replicate you, but it won’t be the same. Your clone—she won’t have the unique spark and fury I’ve grown to adore.”
That explained why he’d taken her blood on the transport: so he could make a new version of her to bend to his will. Over her dead body. Cara aimed at him with the fury he loved so much, and thought, Fire!
Nothing. Her pulse raced and her breaths came in gasps. Why couldn’t she do this?
Jaxen admired the chrome weapon in his hand, slowly trailing a fingertip along the curve of its spine. “You have to mean it,” he said. “Clearly, you’re conflicted.”
The door flew open from behind, and a large body nudged Cara aside, snatching the iphal from her grasp. It was Aelyx, who aimed the weapon at Jaxen. “That won’t be a problem for me.”
No sound escaped the chrome device and Cara never saw the air distort, but in the span of a single breath, Jaxen clutched his chest and collapsed to the floor in an ungraceful heap of limbs, his heartbeat stunned by a burst of energy.
Aisly released a scream loud enough to awaken the soldiers from their trances. They jerked upright and blinked at one another in confusion before they noticed their dead leader crumpled on the carpet…and the iphal in Aelyx’s fist.
“Hurry,” Aelyx said, tugging Cara’s hand and towing her out the door.
As they tore down the hall, Cara darted a glance over her shoulder and discovered Aisly right behind them while Troy stood in place looking confused. Cara pumped her legs faster, but instead of giving chase, Aisly turned and sprinted down a side hallway with a mingled look of terror and determination on her face. It seemed she had a plan, maybe to head them off around the corner.
“Veer left,” Cara shouted ahead.
Aelyx did as she said, and they ran down an isolated stretch of hallway. The clamor of stomping boots thundered from behind, and Cara spotted at least a half dozen armed guards closing in on them. Two of the men raised their weapons at Aelyx, so Cara positioned herself behind him as they ran, blocking their shot. But that strategy would only work in the short term. Eventually, they’d consider her collateral damage and simply fire their iphals.
Aelyx turned down yet another hallway and increased his speed. Cara pushed her body to the limit and kept pace with him.
“Where are we going?” she yelled.
“The stairs,” he hollered. “We’re almost there.”
Aelyx reached the stairwell door and threw it open, then grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. After slamming the door, he grasped the handle with both hands. “While you were with Jaxen, I found Alona. Two floors up, room six thirty. Hurry, show her what you know.” He nodded at the door, which had begun to buck from the outside. “I’ll hold them here.” When she hesitated to leave him, he shouted, “Go!”
With the echo of his voice reverberating against the narrow walls, Cara turned and scaled the stairs two at a time until she reached the sixth floor. She barreled down the hall, easily identifying the correct room by the dozens of guards stationed between her and its entrance. It seemed Colonel Rutter had taken the whole “extra security” thing seriously. She couldn’t even move near the door.
“How’d you get to this floor?” demanded a national guardsman. “It’s restricted.”
Cara thumbed behind her and panted, “The emergency stairs. I’m Cara Sweeney. I need to see—”
“Not without clearance.” He pointed back the way she’d come. “I need you to wait downstairs.”
Standing on tiptoe, Cara peered over his shoulder to gauge her odds of sprinting past him and into room 630. There was no chance. Even if she slipped by this one, the next ten would snag her easily. The soldier had just started to repeat his command when Cara spotted a familiar face chatting with the guard at the door—her sadistic PE teacher. It didn’t surprise her that he pulled double duty as a bodyguard. The guy was built like a tank.
“Satan!”
But he didn’t take notice…because that wasn’t his name. Damn it, Cara couldn’t remember what he was really called. She shouted, “Satan!” a few more times, but all that did was alarm the American guards, who exchanged wary glances. Trying another tactic, she yelled, “It’s me! Sweeeeeney!”
That got his attention.
She waved wildly at him. “I need you. It’s an emergency!”
He jogged to meet her and widened his eyes expectantly.
“I’m here for an audience with The Way,” she said. “They’re in—”
Satan cut her off. “No to visit, Sweeeeeney. It much dangerous. The Way seal themselves inside until ceremony begin.”
He started backing away, and Cara made a quick decision to stop hiding her abilities. There was only one way to prove her honesty. She locked eyes with him and said, They’re in danger—I have proof. You need to take me to them now.
She felt his shock, followed by a sense of urgency. “Come.” He told the guardsmen to allow her to pass, then escorted her through the labyrinth of security to room 630.
“Aelyx needs help two floors down,” Cara said over her shoulder.
Satan nodded. “I go.”
Without wasting another moment, she opened the door, and eight pairs of rheumy chrome eyes fastened on her.
“This is urgent,” she said to Alona, closing the door behind her. “Jaxen’s trying to overthrow The Way. I mean, was. He’s dead now, but his followers might carry out his plan. I have proof”—she tapped an index finger to her temple—“if you’ll let me show you.”
Alona’s mouth dropped open as she swept a hand toward the head of the table. “Come and be heard.”
There were no spare seats, so Cara strode to Alona’s side and knelt at her feet. She lifted her face to the old woman and opened her mind, much as she’d done with Syrine, freeing her memories and emotions without holding back. Now wasn’t the time for secrets.
Unlike Syrine’s warmth, Alona’s presence felt cool and businesslike, a reflection of the woman herself. She probed Cara’s thoughts and then shared one of her own—more like a swirling stream of consciousness. Their connection broke, and Cara sat back on her heels, reflecting on what Alona had shown her.
Understanding clicked into place, and when the link was complete, Cara saw how everything fit together. The Way had created ten hybrids as a test batch, but the embryonic survival rate was so low that scientists had abandoned the project. Of the ten hybrids, only Jaxen and Aisly had proven gifted on their childhood assessments and were elevated to positions of power. The other eight teens attended Aegises in the outside precincts. But nobody had known about their mental abilities. It seemed the hybrids had hidden their true potential.