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I wasn’t sure how long we flew toward the rebel camp; I slept. My shoulder throbbed in the brief moments I woke. The sterile facility smell from the prisoners assaulted my nose and suddenly I was back in the tanks with their stinging green liquid. The chambers, filled with their terrible, hissing gas—
A flowery perfume broke the illusion.
I opened my eyes. Val sat beside me, her briefcase tucked under her legs. She noticed me watching, then grinned. “We made it. We’re alive.”
“Not everyone,” I murmured.
“You’re alive, aren’t you? Your team’s alive, too. Take what good you get,” she said matter-of-factly.
I narrowed my eyes. “We didn’t destroy the plant.”
She shrugged. “So?”
“They’ll just keep making beasts.”
“You’re such a downer. Look at these people. You think they care that you didn’t destroy the plant? They’re just happy we rescued them.”
Most of the prisoners were asleep, resting on each other or staring into the distance with vacant expressions.
I fingered Lady Winters’ charm. “I care. It’s wrong.”
“Why?” She frowned, her eyes on the charm. I quickly closed my hand around it.
“It’s wrong because having powers isn’t wrong. The Camaraderie shouldn’t keep our powers secret.”
“I don’t know... your Community seems pretty nice. Have you ever been to the territories? Some people use their powers in horrible ways, and they deserve to be turned into beasties. In the Community, the Camaraderie just roots out the troublemakers before they cause trouble.”
I glared at her. “What trouble did you cause?”
“I stole candy from the governor’s baby.”
“You—what?” I raised an eyebrow. “They sent you to a transformation facility for that?” Why would she steal candy? Surely candy wasn’t that expensive...
She smirked. “I didn’t really steal candy. I just got on the wrong side of a governor that the Camaraderie endorsed.”
“And you’re defending the Camaraderie?”
“I’m just saying that beastie transformation isn’t always a bad thing.”
“You’re wrong.” I rubbed the smooth gems of the charm. I’d felt the transformation through Lady Winters’ mind. It was terrible. “Criminal or not—no one deserves that fate.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Val retorted. She scooted herself the other direction, which suited me just fine. We didn’t need to talk.
The transport ship landed among tall, dense trees. A group of rebels passed out bologna sandwiches, and I laid in the brush beside Lance and Jack while we waited for Inese to arrive. Makeshift tents were spread across the clearing, filled with the rebels who’d been scouting the place before the incident and with the prisoners who needed treatment.
The plants around me felt alive; they contorted their vines to offer me comfort. I cozied into the brush, letting the foliage spread. Their roots offered a cradle against the hot, pressing night. Huge flowers above us scented the clearing like a tropical garden, and thin vines wrapped around my arms like a blanket.
It felt like the whole jungle was watching over me.
Inese woke me later and coaxed me away from the plants. She offered me a granola bar and told me that Jack and Lance were already in the car, thanks to Captain Cortez and Val.
I stretched and yawned. The sky was turning a soft, velvet-pink, and birds chirped in the trees. My clothes felt damp from the early morning dew, but at least I’d gotten sleep. Evidently, so had Inese.
She led me past several tents and sleeping escapees. A few rebels tipped their camo hats as we passed, then returned to pacing the dirt trails between tents. The car sat on the other end of the makeshift camp, and Val bounced in the backseat.
I stopped in my tracks. “She’s coming with us?”
“She asked if she could help, and well, we could use it.” Inese patted my good shoulder. “Cortez said he wouldn’t mind.”
“I’ll bet,” I mumbled. “Probably doesn’t want his troops getting electrocuted.”
Inese raised a stern eyebrow and I fell silent.
Captain Cortez sat against the hood of the car. “Looks like you woke the sleepyhead.” He grinned, planted one hand on the pommel of his sword, and offered her the other.
She winced as he shook her hand. “Thanks for the help,” she said.
“No problem.” He smiled and leaned against the car. “We struck a Camaraderie base and got a few rebels on our side. Not bad for a day’s work. Looks like you got yourself a new team member, too.”
“Given her powers, she could be useful.”
He clapped Inese on the back. “Don’t let me keep you. I know you’ve got people to tend, and we’re busy with our own.”
After Inese thanked him and started the car, I hopped inside—beside Val, unfortunately—and the car went invisible.
“Wow,” Val whispered. “An invisible plane-car!” She spewed a dozen questions as we flew, and Inese patiently answered each: How fast could the car go? Where’d we get it? Thanks so much for letting her come with us; she really hoped she could help. Was there something special she’d have to do to join? She couldn’t wait to see the airship...
Val had as much energy as her electric powers implied.
Maybe I was mad because she electrocuted me with the beastie, but she was so dang cheerful that I couldn’t get any of my own questions in.
Halfway through the trip, I finally managed to ask if Lance and Jack would be all right.
“Gwen should be able to heal them,” Inese said.
“She’s your doctor?” Val asked.
“Yes.”
I glared in Val’s direction, but she couldn’t see me.
“Too bad Captain Cortez couldn’t have taught Lance anything about his sword powers,” I said, changing the subject. “I don’t think any of the agents managed to touch him.”
Inese chuckled. “He’s an excellent fighter, but he doesn’t have powers.”
“He doesn’t?”
“His swords are shielded,” Val said happily. “I asked him while you were sleeping. They’ve been in the family for generations.”
“His swords are... shielded?”
“Right. As long as he’s touching them, telepaths can’t manipulate his thoughts, beasties can’t aim a fireball at him properly, and life-spirit people can’t sense him. If he cuts someone with the sword, they experience a temporary power loss. It’s really quite effective.”
“So those swords were fancy for a reason.”
Val giggled and playfully punched my bad shoulder—despite our invisibility. I gritted my teeth. “If you like sword fighting,” she continued, “you should’ve seen the captain’s son. He’s training for the same. I saw him walking around camp, and he’s gorgeous. Give Lance a few more years of practice...” She sighed happily.
I glared through the invisible window. “We’ve got more important things to worry about,” I grumbled. “Like stopping beast creation.”
Back at the airship, Crush showed Val her quarters while Inese took the rest of us to Gwen for medical treatment. The warmly-lit hall was a welcome change from the bright, antiseptic beast plant, though my leg muscles cramped from the long car ride.
“Here we are.” Inese braced Jack against her shoulder and knocked. Lance leaned against the wall, grimacing where his wounded arm touched the bronze. In retrospect, I’d suffered the least damage: the gunshot wound and a few minor burns... and the dull, constant headache from Lady Winters’ attack.
“Come in,” Gwen said, her voice not much louder than a whisper. She scooted to the edge of her bed and clasped her hands in her lap. Jack grunted as Inese helped him lay down.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Inese warned Gwen. “I’ll be back in a bit. I’ve got to check on our newest recruit.” Gwen nodded, and Inese headed out.
“Can you help him?” I asked. Jack was in pretty bad shape, and the rebel medics hadn’t had a chance to work on him before we left.
“I’ll do what I can,” Gwen said gently. “Normally we would use the sick bay, but this will have to make do until I can use the stairs safely.” Her formal speech reminded me of the Community’s elderly population. The familiarity was comforting. “Please pull up a chair.”
I dragged a heavy wooden chair to the spot she’d indicated.
“Thank you, dear; he shouldn’t be standing.”
A tinge of satisfaction snaked through me as Lance sat. Val wasn’t here to flirt with him.
“Beasties?” Gwen asked. I nodded, and she placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Let’s start by mending the broken arm.”
“Do you need anything from upstairs?” I asked.
“I’m good for now.” She tucked the blankets around her charge and then placed her hand on the break in his arm.
The room went silent, save for Jack’s pained breathing and the airship’s hum.
An ancient alarm clock buzzed faintly, one of its LED numbers missing. The desk had a neat stack of papers beside a pencil holder with half-used pencils. Soft, faded cloth hung along the wall. A few pictures hung here and there, one in which Gwen and Jim laughed among people I didn’t recognize. Judging by her accent, she was from the Community of North America. I wondered when she had joined the Coalition.
After a while, Gwen patted Jack’s shoulder. “You need rest, but you’ll live.”
He shifted on his back and fell into a deeper slumber. It was a wonder he could sleep comfortably, knowing he might’ve died. But then, I’d fallen asleep in the middle of a jungle. Not the safest of places.
I rested my elbow on my knee as Gwen moved to treating Lance. It’ll be okay, I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how much this elderly woman could help us. According to Pops, she had life-spirit and telepathy. Her telepathy explained how I got my chance to attack Lady Winters the first time I confronted her. Pops guessed that she’d acted as a distraction, as a buffer to keep me from completely losing my mind.
Over the next half hour, the bruises cleared from Lance’s face and the deep scratches turned to faint scars. Finally, Gwen leaned against the wall and rubbed her eyes.
Lance rotated his shoulder as if he’d never been wounded. “What’d’ya do?”
“My power is in healing: the ability to save or suspend lives.” She rubbed her forehead gingerly, then looked at me. “It’s your turn. I won’t go deep in your thoughts; I just use telepathy to find the damage.”
I swallowed hard, then felt something else—be there. She was present, searching across my mind, but she wasn’t intrusive like Lady Winters. Each memory was tucked away, as if it’d come unbidden, and her presence was much friendlier. When she did find pain, the memory flashed to the surface and vanished as quickly.
“Sorry about attacking you,” I whispered. “I... I wasn’t acting like myself.”
Don’t worry about Brainmaster right now, she sent gently. You were under her influence, and I have no memory of the attack. Help me decide what should be mended, instead of dwelling on what might not have happened.
Her thoughts were strange—hard to distinguish but certainly not my own. I tried to focus on memories I didn’t mind her seeing, drowsy as she soothed the grazed shoulder and eased the bruises. She healed the burns from both fire beastie and electricity.
Then the reflection in the tank surfaced, followed by the screams of humans turning into beasts and the horrible acrid gas. My arms tingled, changing, itching—
Gwen’s presence vanished and I gasped for air.
I’m not in a tank; I’m not in a tank—
The burnt scabs on my skin stung, a small patch turning into a white blister, and my shoulder hurt again.
“You okay?” Lance reached for my shoulder, consoling, but quickly withdrew his hand when I jerked my arm.
That memory—
It never happened, so it wasn’t a memory.
Gwen leaned against the headboard and sighed. “There are more than physical burns that must be taken care of. Brainmaster left behind a memory seed—a false memory planted to cause distress. They’re used primarily to weaken their victims against further attacks. I’ll see if I can soften the seed tomorrow, but I’ll need a little more time to recuperate. For now, can the two of you get Jack to his bed?”
Lance nodded.
Gwen woke Jack with a gentle touch to the shoulder. “I’m fine,” he muttered in a half-snore.
She smiled weakly. “Glad to see you’re back to your usual self.” She dismissed us, and Lance and I helped Jack into the hall.
“She gives us a lot when she heals us,” Jack said, yawning in mid-sentence. “But she’s got the benefit of being a telepath, so she knows when she’s appreciated.”
Once inside his room, he brushed a stack of comic books from his couch and tried to pick up a video game controller, but he fell asleep instead. His chest rose and fell softly, one hand draped off the couch with the controller in hand.
He hadn’t even bothered to change clothes, but he looked like he was more comfortable now than before.
“She did say it’d be a while before he fully recovered,” Lance noted.
“Come on,” I tugged his elbow. “Tim’s probably wondering what happened to us.”
“Right,” Lance said, and we headed upstairs.
