Terminal Point Read online

  “Sit down,” Jason said flatly. “Let me fix you.”

  Lucas seemed amused by Jason’s temerity. “Do you honestly think Nathan hasn’t inflicted worse on me before? I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t compare me to Nathan.” Jason scowled, but his gaze held steady. “I’m not going to kill you. Now sit the fuck down and let me take a look at your brain. We still need you, Lucas. Even I know that.”

  “How altruistic of you.”

  “Just take a damn seat.”

  “You should listen to him,” Threnody said. “He does okay work for being such an obnoxious pain in the ass.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment because I’m not arguing with someone in your current state.” Jason eyed her. “You should lie down, Threnody.”

  With Jason’s help, Threnody once again stretched out on the row of seats that was her berth, wrapped securely in thermal blankets and modified harness straps to keep her stable. Once Jason saw to Threnody, he headed over to Lucas, picking up a hypospray half-full of nanites from a case as he moved through the cargo bay. They couldn’t afford weakness, and all of them were damaged in some way. Recovery was going to be slow for some, quicker for others, but even Jason knew that if they wanted to survive what was coming, they would need Lucas at full strength.

  “Get the bleeding stopped,” Lucas said as he sat down beside Samantha and let Jason inject him in the throat with a dosage of nanites. “The rest will keep.”

  Jason braced himself over Lucas with one hand, his other curving carefully over the left side of Lucas’s skull, pale blond hair beneath his fingers a dirty mess. Jason closed his eyes, bent his head, and let his power seep into Lucas’s skull. Down through the blood-brain barrier, down to the dura mater, into the brain itself with its swollen tear, just a few centimeters long. Jason could feel where Lucas had picked at it telekinetically, struggling to ease the pressure there with a power that couldn’t compete with the one Jason now wielded.

  “Messy,” Jason muttered.

  “I don’t need your opinion on how I keep myself alive.”

  Jason dug his fingernails into Lucas’s scalp. “Be still.”

  Jason saw capillaries and cell structure, flash images of hemoglobin and plasma, as he worked through nanites to carefully reattach torn capillaries. Blood flow returned and the swollen tension in the cells around the area began to fade. Jason spread his microtelekinesis through Lucas’s skull, helping the nanites chase down stray blood cells that were shifting into clots and teleporting them out of Lucas’s body. Tiny drops of red splattered intermittently to the shuttle’s deck until Jason was certain he’d done enough to ensure that Lucas wouldn’t keel over and die from an aneurysm right when they needed him most.

  Jason retracted his power, opening his eyes. The layers in the world wavered and it took effort to fix his vision. He wondered if he would ever get used to this, to the way he could see things, feel things, through his power.

  “I never wanted to be this.”

  “This is what you were born to be,” Lucas said, satisfaction curling through his voice. “I’m not the only one the world needs.”

  Jason’s answer to that was a twisted smile that reminded Lucas of Kristen. Lucas found little comfort in the expression. They stared at each other for a moment, the only sounds in the cargo bay the quiet hum of the environmental system and everyone’s soft breathing.

  “You’re awake” came Matron’s rough voice a few seconds later. She stood in the open hatch with her arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot. “Get your ass up here, Jason. Novak needs some help with the hack.”

  Jason straightened up, but didn’t move. Lucas smiled tightly at him. “Go.”

  “All right.” Jason left the cargo bay for the flight deck.

  “How come you’re the only one not bleeding out their eyes?” Matron asked as he took over the navigator’s seat.

  Jason reached for a wire embedded in the controls. “I don’t know.”

  His fingers brushed over faint flecks of blood on the console, his power momentarily slipping free of his control. It seeped into the blood, and the only DNA he could identify in the fluid was Lucas’s. He grimaced, clenching down hard on his control.

  The world looked, and felt, strange.

  It always would.

  TWO

  AUGUST 2379

  SVEAGRUVA, NORWAY

  “The seed bank is going to be difficult to get into,” Lucas said. He studied the map on his datapad that showed the surrounding terrain of Longyearbyen and the airfield a kilometer away. A bright red dot identified where the Svalbard Global Seed and Gene Bank was located. “It’s going to have layers of security, and the first layer we’re going to have to take down is the one that breathes.”

  “Distraction? Make it a two-group feint, but only one group goes in and the rest draws their fire?” Threnody said, rubbing at her mouth and scratching at her skin. “Everyone’s going to have to pull their weight and we’re all in crap condition, but we could try a head-on attack. Or maybe something more subtle might work?”

  “We don’t have time for subtle.”

  Quinton prodded at his teeth with his tongue. They weren’t broken. Neither were the bones in his face or the ones in his arms. The scattered burns on his hands resulting from his being a Class III pyrokinetic were gone, as were the biotubes. All he felt was their absence when he pressed his fingers down over skin and muscle. The tips of his middle fingers and thumbs no longer had the thin plating of metal needed to spark natural gas into fire. For the first time since being extracted from a cartel drug lord’s training camp as a child by Strykers, Quinton’s arms were wholly flesh and bone.

  “I’m going to need something more than a lighter if you’re hoping to work my power into your plan,” Quinton said, raising his head to look at Lucas. “I’d do better with a gun.”

  “We’ve got grenades if you need to make fire,” Matron said, staring down at a list of supplies on her datapad. “Otherwise, I’ve got guns, but they won’t be military grade. Lost most of those when the rest of my shuttles blew getting out of Buffalo. You’ll be shooting with bullets, not energy darts.”

  “I can work with that.”

  Everyone in Alpha shuttle was awake and huddled in the cargo bay, pretending the chrono wasn’t ticking away seconds that they needed. Lucas rubbed at his forehead, unable to get rid of the ache building there. “I don’t care which weapon you use. This part is going to be a straightforward hit-and-run.”

  “You can’t have my scavengers for your suicide run,” Matron said. “I only have enough left to pilot the shuttles and you need them for that.”

  Lucas waved aside her worries. “When we arrive in Longyearbyen, we’ll need to make sure none of the quads manage to send out a signal for help. I wouldn’t put it past Nathan to have Warhounds up there.”

  “He placed two teams there last month,” Samantha said. “We’ll be dealing with both psions and humans.”

  “And none of us can even stand up straight,” Threnody said. “Great planning, Lucas.”

  “I kept you alive,” he reminded her.

  Threnody shrugged, the motion a little stiff. She was wearing an insulated skinsuit beneath her clothes now like everyone else, but still looked as if a good wind would knock her over. Ten hours since landing and Jason had already worked on her twice more. She was healing at a pace that outstripped the regular cellular rate, but was on par with a biotank. It was a tiring process, for both her and Jason.

  “I won’t be any good at shielding,” Kerr said, his teal eyes bloodshot. He cleared his throat, words riding a heavy Scottish accent. “You’d do better to put me on offense. I can handle a few quick and dirty strikes. I can’t hold up any shields right now but my own.”

  “What about your empathy?” Jason asked.

  “If you want an empath, use Kristen.”

  Kerr was a dual psion with Class II telepathy and Class IX empathy and was worn down like everyone else. His empathic
power was newfound, but nowhere near Kristen’s level. The younger girl graced him with a teeth-baring grin. Her dark blue eyes had lost some of their sick silver sheen with the dubious onset of borrowed sanity.

  “Is that admiration you’re feeling?” Kristen asked.

  “Hardly.”

  Jason eyed Kristen contemplatively. “If we can get her inside, she’ll get everyone else outside for us. We can handle the quads and Warhounds better if we can see them rather than wondering if they’re trying to call for reinforcements. It’ll be a bloodbath, and we can’t let the fight get drawn out, but the odds are in our favor if we keep the element of surprise.”

  “They’re in our favor even if we don’t,” Lucas said. “We aren’t failing here.”

  “Do we know how many targets there are?” Threnody said, scratching at peeling skin on the underside of her jaw. She couldn’t seem to sit still. “Any previous reconnaissance records to extrapolate off of?”

  “The World Court posts five quads up here at any given shift,” Samantha said. “Regular check-in happens at oh six hundred every day.”

  “So we hit them ten minutes after. Plenty of leeway for them to finish checking in, and we’ve got hours after that to break into the seed bank. What’s the terrain like?”

  “The ruins are overrun with sparse vegetation, but there are a few buildings that the government has taken care of. It’ll be a clearer line of sight than what we had when we fought in the bunkers,” Lucas said. “The mountain isn’t habitable and they’ve got a weapons system surrounding it for defense. It’ll be cold, but no major radiation risk.”

  Threnody nodded, brow furrowed. “Our best bet is to drop down right on top of them. We’ll have to go in shooting, so to speak.”

  “That’s a brilliant way to die,” Samantha said. “We’re all burned-out. How do you expect us to function when our range is so limited?”

  “Do you have a better idea? No? Then shut up until you can give us something useful.”

  Samantha glared at Lucas. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

  “Yes” came his calm reply. “I am. You’ve never organized a plan of attack on this scale. You only led them on Nathan’s orders. Threnody is better at this than you are.”

  Samantha abruptly stood and went to the only place for privacy in the shuttle—the head. The door closed behind her with a faint hiss and she locked it. Leaning against the sink, she took in a deep breath and struggled to calm her nerves. With slightly shaking hands, she turned the cold water on and used a little to wash her face and ease her dry eyes.

  Her skin itched everywhere the acid rain had touched it back in Buffalo. That annoyance would fade, given time. The swirling nausea in her gut would probably stay with her for a little while longer. Pressing a fist to her middle, Samantha stared at herself in the tiny mirror above the sink and gave her reflection a smile that was more snarl than anything else.

  The door to the head slid open.

  “That was locked,” Samantha said flatly.

  “I know the override,” Lucas said. “Are you regretting your decision already?”

  “Sercas don’t do regrets.”

  “Glad to see you’ve kept the arrogance.” Lucas stepped inside and let the door slide shut. His presence made the space feel even smaller.

  Samantha turned her head fractionally to keep him in her sights. “What else did you let me keep?” she demanded, voice harsh. “Sanity, obviously, but you function like Nathan at your most basic level, Lucas. You use people the same way he does. You’re just better at rationing our lives.”

  Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at her. “You’re alive. Be grateful.”

  “You haven’t given me a reason to be.”

  Lucas smiled. It was the only warning she got. Lucas’s hand wrapped around her throat too fast for her to block, then he was slamming her head against the mirror. Samantha choked on a scream, biting it back. The edge of the sink bruised her hip. Lucas had a death grip on her throat.

  Agony ripped through her skull. “I won’t beg for you.”

  “I don’t want you to beg,” Lucas said. “I want you to work with me. If we’re going to survive at all, I need you on my side, Sam.”

  “My mind should be my own.”

  “You’re a Serca. Your mind belongs to whoever inherits the Syndicate.”

  “Gideon won’t accept me after what I did.”

  The loss still hit like a sucker punch, that emptiness in her mind where her twin once resided through their bond. It was as if she still had a body, just no vital organs to make it live; a hole at the bottom of her mind with no way to fill it.

  Lucas eased his grip, letting her go. Samantha shoved him away, putting as much distance between them as she could. It wasn’t enough to make her feel safe. She curled her hands over the edge of the sink and glared at him. Lucas didn’t seem bothered by her animosity.

  “You knew when I ripped apart your mind in Buffalo that you had no other options but this, but me,” Lucas said, flicking his fingers at his chest. “I expect you to obey, Sam.”

  She raised her chin, defiance in every line of her body even as she licked her lips. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then Kris can change your mind for me. Or at least your loyalty.”

  “She was always yours, wasn’t she?” Samantha said, remembering those moments in Buffalo when Lucas spoke through their youngest sibling.

  Lucas nodded. “Always.”

  “How did Nathan never know?”

  “If Nathan fears anything other than death, it’s insanity. He feared losing himself in hers. I never did.” Lucas shrugged. “Kris was the perfect tool. I wielded her as needed.”

  “And me?”

  “I needed you sane and I need you to be on my side. I saved your mind over the years because I can’t do what needs to be done alone.”

  “What if I refuse?”

  “We’ve gone down that road many times before. It never ends well when you choose Nathan over me.” Lucas’s gaze was steady. “There’s too much at stake, Sam. We both know that. Surviving this fight starts here.”

  She looked away, seeing their reflections in the mirror. They were both a mess, but still alike in their resolve.

  “What’s in it for me?” Samantha said.

  “Your life and the ability to live it in a changed world.”

  “Never knew you were such a humanitarian.”

  “We aren’t human, Sam.” Lucas passed his hand over the control panel to open the door at his back. The sound of everyone else’s conversation filtered inside. “I won’t be anything less than what Aisling promised.”

  “And that would be?”

  Lucas didn’t answer as he stepped out, but she didn’t need him to. If the Sercas had one thing in common, it was their belief in themselves and what they could accomplish. Samantha lifted a hand to scratch off a tiny flake of dried blood she had missed in her washing. She flicked it off her finger, wondering how much blood she would end up losing to reach her brother’s goal.

  THREE

  AUGUST 2379

  LONGYEARBYEN, NORWAY

  Longyearbyen lay north of the arctic circle, a frozen graveyard of a time when almost every last coastline in the world had communities thriving with people, even a tiny, wintery archipelago. Currently, the town center was surrounded by buildings eaten away by the cold and disuse, time having made inroads on a place only twenty people inhabited on any given day. Richard Cuellas had spent the past five years on sentry duty in the far north, drinking his way through gallons of coffee and whiskey. It was a lucrative, if boring, post.

  Richard was one of those who didn’t mind the isolation, along with the rest of the people assigned with him in the north. Up here at the top of the world, there was space to stretch out, land that wouldn’t kill you if you stayed too long in one place, and air that smelled better than in any other place on earth. Their mission was to monitor bioscanners and a security g
rid that encompassed a quarter of the island. The computers could do this well enough on their own, but the government still required a human mind to interpret the data that ran across the vidscreens.

  Sipping at steaming black coffee, Richard tilted his chair back on two legs, balancing there as he called up the log for the past ten hours. It was shift change, and despite its being a post where nothing ever happened, they stuck to protocol. The government expected full protection of what was buried in the ice and volcanic rock of Plataberget. Neither he nor his compatriots knew what was so important up here, and they weren’t stupid enough to ask. Their mission was to guard Spitsbergen. In the entire time that the government had manned the island—250 years and counting—no unauthorized person had ever set foot on it.

  That morning, the long-standing record was broken when Richard saw the image of a civilian girl on one of the security feeds in a place she shouldn’t be.

  Choking on his coffee, he let his chair fall back to the floor and swore as some of the hot liquid splashed over his bare fingers. He set the cup aside and reached for the controls to magnify the security feed, but the girl had disappeared. Richard swore again, wondering if the madness that came from being cut off from society was finally getting to him after five years of duty. He commed the rest of his quad.

  “Graham, get your ass up here, I need a second sign-off,” Richard said as he leaned forward and squinted at all the various angles he could call up on the security feed.

  He found no sign of the girl, and replays of the feed didn’t show him a damn thing. It was as if she’d never been there. Five seconds was a long time for it to be a glitch, and he knew for a fact that the last shipment of entertainment bodies had all been dumped in the water a month ago. It wasn’t some government-supplied whore.