Heart of Annihilation (12 page)

Rannen shrugged. “It’s the simplicity and primal nature of your dimension that allows you such thoughts. It’s a way of understanding something outside your realm of technological comprehension. This is why Earth makes such a perfect prison system. There’s less mischief for the inmates to get into.”

“Why go to all this trouble?” Thurmond asked. “With exiling and everything? Why not intern your inmates in your own dimension, or put them to death, or something?”

“Put them to death?” Rannen sat back, astonishment at this notion printed plainly across his face. “We could never do that. Rethans are a strictly non-violent society. We don’t exile many, but the ones we do are those unable to conform to the basic standards of etiquette and serenity. They are too violent to be allowed to stay in Retha.”

Great, we were back to that. Me, the too-violent-to-be-Rethan inmate type. My limbs buzzed with energy. The spot above my ear pounded venom through my veins. I turned on him.

“Okay, so answer me this, Rannen.
If
I was such a hard-core person back on Retha, then why do I do everything now from paying my taxes and obeying the speed limit, to—to not swearing. Shouldn’t I be running around murdering people?”

Rannen chewed on his bottom lip. “Most of Earth’s genocidal dictators and serial killers have been RAGE inmates.”

“And you keep sending them here?” Thurmond sounded offended.

Rannen scratched his jaw. “The percentage is small enough to keep our contract intact.”

I agreed with Thurmond on this one. But what did that mean for me? Volting, anger, voices in my head. Either I was coming apart at the seams, or there was truth in his words.

“But I’m not a serial killer, or a genocidal dictator. ”

“It will be interesting to see what happens in your future,” Rannen interrupted.

“Oh please.” Thurmond rolled his eyes. “She’s had twenty years for a test run.”

“Twenty-one,” I corrected.

“It’s easy for a person to maintain a moral persona when there is nothing to challenge them,” Rannen said. “It’s quite another when the circumstances are more—extreme.”

“Yeah, well they’ve been extreme in the last twenty-four hours and I haven’t seen any bodies piling up under Rose’s murderous little thumb.”

Rannen sat back and folded his arms. He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. I didn’t either. I’d wanted to kill Justet and Sanderford back at the base. I’d wanted to kill the commander on the plane, and I’d had my heart set on putting a bullet through the officiate’s head. The bodies may not be piling up under my thumb, but they were certainly piling up in my mind.

Thurmond took my fist and smoothed my hand open across my knee. I loved the warmth of his skin after the cold of Rannen’s. So very human.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, the conversation hitting a dead end. The working Rethans continued to chatter. The camp looked much less cluttered. The wind plucked at my hair and uniform. I couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

“Okay, so what do you guys need this lowly, psychotic inmate for?” I sighed. “And don’t just tell me your portal’s busted, because that doesn’t explain anything.”

Rannen didn’t move but his eyes locked back onto me. “In the Twelfth Dimension our society and technology is powered by electricity—”

“Sort of like here,” Thurmond interrupted.

“Not exactly. In fact, it’s not even a close comparison.” Rannen shook his head. “The currents in our dimension are very different and much stronger. Our bodies can store up to well over five hundred thousand volts of electricity. We power our society, not the other way around. The majority of your dimension is made up of earthy materials that cannot conduct electricity.
Everything
in our society can.”

“Okay, so what do you need Rose for if we are all so very beneath you?”

“The type of electricity in your dimension is not the same as that used in Retha. You think of it as one dimensional—amperes, voltage, resistance. This is scientific fact. However, on Retha, electricity has a variation not included in Earth. Kilvran: output by any object determines how much energy our bodies need to expend in order to power it to its maximum potential.”

“Okay.” I was pretty sure my brain had exploded. “I didn’t understand a word of that.”

“Our bodies don’t understand the kilvran deficiency here in Earth, and are therefore unable to either absorb your currents or wield them. However, with an extended amount of exposure to Earth currents, we’ve discovered that a Rethan body is able to adapt and channel it. Although it’s more like throwing a round from one of your weapons into a fire versus shooting it from a gun. It’s clumsy and inelegant.” Rannen gave a thin-lipped smile. “But as an unintentional flaw in the dimensional camouflage, it will be enough for what we need from you. Your twenty some years of acclimatization may very well save our lives.”

Rannen nodded, trying to get me to approve. I watched him, wondering if I should agree with him or not, and I realized I couldn’t pin down his age. My mind had created a first impression for me based on the silvery hair and translucent skin, telling me that he was much older. Now as I studied his face I saw the smooth skin, the taut muscles of his jaw and the clear, silver eyes, and realized he could barely be considered middle aged. Definitely older than Thurmond and myself, but not by much. This made me feel less threatened by him. He was also a young soldier. Almost a peer.

But from another dimension. And despite his soft voice, honest face, and explanations that almost made sense, he was still holding Thurmond and me captive.

“Rannen, you said I was given some kind of drug to make me look human.”

Marshal Rannen sighed, rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He glanced over to where the officiate was scolding a Rethan over the contents of a spilled crate, and stood. Thurmond stood as well, but less defensively this time.

“Yes. We are not so different, Kris. The continual charge in the air on our dimension has leeched the majority of the pigment from our bodies, which is why we look different from your human friend here.” Rannen sighed. “When a Rethan is sentenced, a pigment enhancer and memory inhibitor serum called Vizshathain is injected before the sentence is carried out.” The wind flipped up Rannen’s collar against his jaw. His eyes captured my attention. Like he was examining me for some sort of physical evidence the numbers on my hand had supposedly proven. He smoothed down his collar. “You don’t have to believe anything I say, Kris. But the fact remains. You are a convicted inmate from Retha. You were sentenced to RAGE and grew up in Earth as a human.”

All my bluster and hope deflated in a tired whoosh of air. I felt dirty, contaminated. Something filthy in hiding. An alien to the place I loved and considered home.

I fingered the makeshift bandage around my arm and found Thurmond staring at me, his mouth open.

“Don’t look at me like that, Corporal.” I was trying to sound angry, but the words came out sad. Resigned.

Thurmond closed his mouth slowly. Before he could respond the shuffling of feet and a quiet “ahem” made us look around. The rat-like tech guy stood a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot, his hands hidden behind his back. Marshal Rannen ran a hand across his short-cropped scalp, sent me one last piercing look, and gave the tech guy his attention.

“What is it, Deputy Boderick?” Rannen asked.

“The officiate asked that I give this to the inmate.” He opened his hand.

Where I hoped to see a cell phone or a set of car keys, I was supremely disappointed if not downright disturbed to see a huge hypodermic syringe filled with an opaque, light blue substance.

“Oh, no you don’t.” I pulled my feet closer so I could stand up quickly if needed.

Deputy Boderick took a step back “It’s just human-grade epinephrine combined with Azshatath—”

“What’s it do?” Thurmond folded his arms, letting his biceps bulge. Deputy Boderick’s eyes left my face.

“Epinephrine? It’s adrenaline to help with,” he waved a finger at me, “that. It’s a vasoconstrictor to slow the bleeding and stuff.” Speaking to Thurmond seemed to be easier for him anyway. No sense in engaging the psychopath if you didn’t have to.

“And the ash—whatever?” I asked.

“Azshatath?” He glanced at me and then back to Thurmond. “On Retha we use it to help with voltage asthenia. It increases the metallic mass, strips away current inhibitions brought on by bodily abstruseness and—”

“It suppresses the dimensional camouflage, Kris Rose.” Rannen took a formal tone. “It will help you better absorb electrical currents.”

Boderick glanced at Rannen. Rannen gave an almost imperceptible headshake. Boderick spoke fast, in a breathless voice. “I’m afraid the Azshatath will also lessen the amnesic effect the Vizshathain produces, so we’ll need to reinject you before—”

“Amnesic effect? So, I could start acting like . . .” I couldn’t finish.

There wasn’t a chance in the world I was taking this weird, other dimensional camouflage junk, vasoconstrictor or no. I widened my eyes and pursed my lips to show everyone how serious I was, and then looked to Thurmond for support. He rubbed the back of his neck, his face thoughtful. My eyebrows shot up.

“You don’t actually think I should take it, do you?”

“Would that stuff hurt someone who’s human?” he asked Boderick.

“No. Well, the adrenaline would react the same on anyone, but only someone who’s been injected with Vizshathain will be affected in any way by the camouflage reducer.”

Thurmond held out his hand. Deputy Boderick clutched the syringe and then handed it reluctantly to Thurmond.

“I’m not taking that, T.” I cringed as far away from him as the wall would allow.

“Knock it off, Rose.” Thurmond crouched in front of me. “You heard what he said. The adrenaline will help control the bleeding.”

“What about the dimensional—camo—azz—whatever it’s called?”

“Come on. At best it will help you stop losing so much blood. And at worst,” he paused, and I could see his mind churning on how to continue, “it will help clear things up a bit.”

I scowled at him, furious that he was siding with anyone other than me.

“You want me to take it first?” he asked, and for a moment I hated him for being so noble.

“No,” I grumbled. “No, I don’t want you to take it at all.” I wasn’t going to last forever especially if I kept losing blood like this. I drew in a sharp breath, holding my arm close to my body. Thurmond’s face was a controlled mask of neutrality but with a dash of now-will-you-listen? I brushed cold sweat from my lip.

“Bodie. Can I call you Bodie?” I asked. Boderick shook his head. “You got any alcohol swabs or disinfectant of any kind?”

He gave me a blank stare, which I took as a no. I held my hand out to Thurmond for the syringe. “I’ll do it.”

“Fine.” Thurmond took off the cap, looking pained. The needle was much smaller than I’d expected. I took the syringe. He didn’t stop me.

“So, Bodie, what side effects can I expect? Vomiting, rash, trouble sleeping, increased risk of cancer, premature graying, or maybe the uncontrollable urge to shoot electricity from my fingers and kill people?”

Boderick tripped back with a little squawk. Thurmond gave me a brief, gratuitous smile that didn’t touch his eyes. With only a second of hesitation, I jabbed the needle through the fabric into my thigh. Everyone around me jumped. I depressed the plunger, choking back a groan. The blue liquid emptied into my body in a chilling wave. An enormous rush of electricity tore through my body. My heart raced in frantic, pounding bounds.

“Holy . . . ow!” I put my head between my knees with a violent shudder.

“You okay?” Thurmond asked.

“That stuff has quite a kick.” My knees muffled my voice. The needle dropped from my hands. I pressed my knuckles against the injection site and raised my head. “How’s my camouflage looking?”

Thurmond shrugged, his face unreadable. I must have still looked the same. The pain from the bullet reverted to a secondary discomfort. Jitters shivered up and down my body, tightening and loosening my muscles with racking tension until I felt I would tear apart in a thousand directions. I slid my back up the wall, ignoring Thurmond’s protestations.

The landscape lost its warm tints, becoming a cool azure that was like seeing through blue-lens glasses. The wind, the lightning, the very air intensified, blistering me with a swath of sensations that my body struggled to process. I braced my hand on the building.

Thurmond touched my arm. I shook it off. The electricity in the heavens. The sheer power enveloped by the clouds. I tilted my head to sense it better. For the first time I saw streaks of light and surges of power, much deeper and more intense than anything I had witnessed before. The temperature dropped several noticeable degrees.

A deep, pressurized ache started at the usual spot above my left ear and spread across my skull. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. Dark, bloody anger washed through my mind, swirling in a whirlpool of hatred before exploding from my mouth in a liberating cackle.

A whisper of voices. Conspiratorial, exclusive. I whirled toward them. Rannen and Thurmond stood shoulder to shoulder, or shoulder to elbow as it were. They stared at me like silenced gossips.

Thurmond: a nobody. My gaze settled on Rannen in his blue marshal uniform.

“You!” The word hissed from between my teeth. One menacing step and the power of hatred and fury boiled into a scalding inferno of violence. “Is this what you’ve become? A fluxing Rethan drone!”

Thurmond and Rannen retreated, knocking into each other.

“Stop right there, Kris.” Rannen raised his hand. The other went behind his back.

“What the hell’s going on?” Thurmond said.

“You should have cut your own throat rather than become this—become one of them!
I
should have cut your throat!”

I advanced on him, shoulders hunched. Nothing penetrated the blistering anger, the absolute rage, the murderous intentions.
Drone!

Caz
10 days pre-RAGE

Xander sat behind Vin’s desk, forehead resting in his palm. He leaned over the small command screen in front of him. The outer office was empty, no surprise. It was early. So early that the city hadn’t begun to stir. Zell had probably been called in to watch Manny so Xander could come into the DC Council building this morning. Or perhaps he’d come in last night.

Caz vaguely wondered when she ceased having any responsibility for her son. Perhaps because of her outburst that had nearly killed a marshal? It was a wonder she was currently free to finish her work. Having a brother on the council had its perks.

Caz shook her hands out of their fists. It was good that Xander had been offered Vin’s seat. At least the commandant’s aversion extended only to her, not the Fisk family in general. That in itself gave her license to hate the commandant all the more, and it would serve her purpose—
their
purpose—now that Vin was no longer here.

Sometimes she wondered if Xander had forgotten who he was. He had accused her of the same thing in the past, when Vin kept her out of the lab for too long.
Don’t forget who you are,
he would remind her,
what our purpose is here
. But thinking about it now, she realized it had been years since he’d mentioned it.

Caz hadn’t been to the council building since learning of Vin’s death. All she would run into were memories and emotions. Vin had died in large part due to his father and the council. The rage simmering in her veins kept her warm at night but confronting the council, or more specifically her father-in-law, would only cause her to boil over. Calm and control were called for if she was going to accomplish her goal.

Coming here today was a necessity. As much as she loathed the hypocritical extravagance around her and all it entailed, it was time for Xander to use his influence with the council. It was worth him becoming a Rethan drone for this.

Caz slapped her hand against the doorframe to energize the web and enclose them in the office. It crackled to life with a razor zap. Xander jerked his head up.

His eyes were rimmed in dark shadows, his hair tousled. He didn’t say anything but had a resigned look. He’d expected her. He raised his eyebrows in question. Caz nodded. He nodded along with her and then heaved a sigh.

“When did you finish?” he asked.

“I tested the eight millimeter prototype last night.”

“Where?”

“The envirophylum near Vislane Academy.”

Silence. Xander ran his hand across his mouth and stood only to sit back down. He leaned across the desk toward her.

“And?”

Caz released her excitement in a breath.

“It was amazing. You should have seen it! All twelve kilometers within a matter of seconds. The plants, the grasses, everything in a perfect circle.” She stopped. This wasn’t what Xander wanted to hear. In fact, she knew it was only with the greatest restraint that he hadn’t already interrupted her to have his say. She tapped her nails on Xander’s desk, unable to hold back her excitement. “This is it, Xan! It’s ready!”

“All twelve kilometers?” He didn’t move from his seat but his eyebrows contracted. “Did any of it leak over to the city?”

“Come on, Xan, do you really think I’m that careless?” A snarl rose in her throat. It caught, making a lump she couldn’t swallow.

“Because a report came in a few hours ago of a freak storm that raced through the Vislane Envirophylum and Academy—”

“They’re calling it a storm?”

“—that decimated the entire phylum as well as the academy and the eight adjoining grids.” He flipped around the power screen so Caz could see it. It was an image taken from high above, showing the shimmering lights of a block of standard Rethan grids. At the very center was a blackened hole. No lights. No dark, blocky symmetry implying the location of an envirophylum. Just a perfect circle of darkness.

Caz shoved the screen back at him.

“And that’s not all,” Xander went on. “Ten days ago a similar storm popped up at a phylum twelve-hundred grids to the south, although that one only destroyed about a square kilometer of the phylum—”

“Xan—”

“And another one thirty days ago in a phylum to the east. At least that time the surrounding grids had been empty, or the death toll would have been enormous.”

“I needed to test it.” Caz waved a hand at the power screen. “The Heart of Annihilation can only be condensed so far, as you can tell with that first failed test. I made it as small as possible for the second which was about as effective as a firecracker. The third had the most consistent response, but I’d never have been able to contain it to a single envirophylum.”

“If you’d gotten a permit from the council for the test we could have found you a suitable location.”

“Oh please. The council?” Caz tossed up her hands and paced before the desk. “Sure. As if every single council member weren’t under the imperial thumb of our esteemed commandant.”

“I’m on the council now, Caz.” Xander thumped his fist on the power screen. “I could have pushed it through, like Vin would have.”

“Attikin’s ass!” Caz stopped pacing. “You don’t have the same authority as Vin. Commandant Paliyo desperately wants me to finish the weapon, but he doesn’t understand the complex necessities involved in testing. He would as soon give me permission for a test as he would hug me. It had to be this way.”

“And so the Rethans within the neighboring grids are what, casualties of your own personal war with the commandant?”

“You’re forgetting the higher purpose here, brother,” Caz hissed. She pressed her knuckles to the desk, her eyes hard. “If this weapon isn’t admitted into the arsenal, the Thirteenth Dimension will continue to annihilate dimension after dimension until the dimensional fabric is so thin the slightest infraction will cause an irrevocable rift. Is that what you want?”

“That’s on their heads, while this,” he picked up the power screen and pushed it back under her nose. “This is on yours.”

Caz shoved it off the desk. It cracked, causing the image to vanish.

“It’s not just mine, Xan.” Caz folded her arms. “Don’t think because you’re not turning the key or applying the charge that the blood won’t stain your hands as black as mine.”

Xander sat back down, his eyes wide.

“What if it’s not enough to introduce the Heart to the Rethan arsenal?” Caz walked around the desk and perched on the edge as close to Xander as she could. “I mean, what’s that really going to do?”

“Caz, don’t—” Xander looked scared for the first time.

She inched closer. “What if the only way to free the planet from the Thirteen Dimension’s oppression is to annihilate them first?”

“That’s not our purpose and you know it!” Xander leapt to his feet. Caz thrust him back into his seat. She leaned over him, her lips pulled against her teeth.

“You and your little, impotent council are welcome to debate amongst yourselves. But know this, Xander,” Caz bent forward until their noses touched. His breath was cool and fast on her face, “this Rethan serenity—this passivity—will not stop me from destroying the Thirteenth Dimension myself if I have to. And you won’t be able to stop me.”

Her fingers circled Xander’s collar while her other hand trailed a thin curl of electricity down his cheek. He slapped her hand away. Caz laughed and released him. She got off the desk and moved toward the door. Xander’s voice stopped her before she could leave.

“This isn’t about revenge, Caz. Don’t let Vin’s death blind you. You have a mission. Create a weapon that can take down the Thirteenth Dimension. You’ve accomplished that. Now it’s time to turn it over to the council, and let them decide how best to use it. If you try to set it off on the Thirteenth Dimension and fail . . .” He left it hanging, but it was no secret the consequences that would rain down on the remaining dimensions for such an infraction.

Caz turned her head toward Xander. “You’re not going to tell the council, right? About the tests?”

“Of course not.” Xander looked frightened at the thought.

“Okay then. Set up a meet with the council.” She chewed her lip and then nodded, agreeing with herself. Laughter bubbled up from deep inside and spilled out with her next words. “Yeah, let’s do that. Set up a meet. I’ll meet with the council. Yeah. We’ll do that.”

She was still laughing to herself as she walked through the web. Electricity trailed from her clothes. Out the door, past the council chambers, down the stairs to the empty vestibule. She ran her fingers along one of the pillars and made her way out of the dark, quiet building. A meeting with the council was just the thing.