Daniella swirled the deep red wine in her glass. The fire flickered in front of her, jumping and flashing in the fireplace, the occasional spark landing on the hearth before dying away. Not many these days could afford the luxury of a real open fire. Even for her, this was a treat, as was the unallocated time where she could simply sit and relax. It had taken months of effort to clear the evening for this event. She wouldn’t have missed it for the world though.
Closing her eyes, she basked in the unusual tranquility of the moment. The ticking of a clock, a replica from the twenty-first century, lulled her until deep bongs echoed. The seat creaked below her, the fine, old leather protesting as she pushed forward, rising to her feet before she slid them into the high, formal shoes. Daniela groaned as the familiar ache settled deep in her bones.
Glancing down, she noted that the material had remained wrinkle-free in the flowing, turquoise salwar kameez which Clarissa had chosen for her to wear.
Her brother, Michael, and his partner, Clarissa, would be here soon for the ceremony that would join them for life. However long that might be given the circumstances...
“No time for that kind of thinking, Daniella,” she muttered to herself.
A tap on the door captured her attention, and she turned with a jerk. “Who is it?”
Agent Fairburn—a member of the team of special investigators allocated to her—peered through the doorway he’d just opened. During her team’s investigations, those who were open to the knowledge learned Clarissa had received extensive bio-cybernetic enhancements at the hand of Dr. Jeremy Colvert. His work with nano-infused embryos shocked all who believed in the sanctity of life.
As the senator with the task of advising on population control and evolution, it also meant Daniella was in charge of the examination of facts and, if necessary, ushering the prosecution of those guilty of circumventing the rules.
To date though, her newly acquired title remained unofficial, and top-level clearance was necessary to ascertain precisely what she was supposed to be doing, apart from the more public information handed out about her previous responsibilities.
“They’ve arrived at the gate,” Kallee, her assistant, called from beyond the door, drawing her from her thoughts and concerns.
Daniella swallowed a sip of wine and took one last moment to enjoy the fire’s warmth. A chill seemed to have taken up residence in her body since the instigation of her new designation. Senior Senator for the A’Garve Quadrant wasn’t quite as fabulous as it sounded, but it was at least one she could openly claim.
“Senator?” Kallee called to her.
“Coming.” Daniella slid the glass onto the wood table and strode toward the door.
Jonah adjusted his tie, grumbling until Franklin flicked his hands away. “Michael invited you to be his Bachelier Serviteur today. I honestly don’t know why, when you complain endlessly.”
Swiping his hand through his slicked-back hair, now worn long, Jonah grunted. “I didn’t realize I’d have to dress like a clown on the day.”
The door opened behind him, and Jonah turned to watch as Michael entered the room. The first thing he noted was the wobbly smile on his friend’s face.
“Ready to give your life away?” Jonah drawled.
Michael’s gaze zeroed in on him. “I’m not giving my life away—I’m joining it to the most fabulous woman who completes me.”
Jonah’s words had done the trick though, as the strained look melted from Michael’s face.
“Good. So, let’s get this event started.” Jonah moved in and hugged his friend hard before he shoved him away. “We better get out there.”
As the three men stalked to the vehicles, it seemed incongruous that they were about to celebrate the occasion of Michael and Clarissa’s union. Only months ago, she’d turned up—a waif, damaged and unsure of herself and the world around her, on the run from an evil man whose sole aim was to breed enhanced super-soldiers.
Clarissa had captured his best friend’s heart, and shown resourcefulness and internal strength of character that humbled the entire team. Bio-cybernetic implants aside, Jonah had been privy to some of the most fundamental concerns, including the difficulties in reconnecting with her family and classification as cybe: non-threatening. It had also made the legalities of the union tenuous until their therapist had petitioned the president himself. At least Michael’s family had associated with President Yin and his family for well over twenty years.
“You’ve got the ring?” Michael’s query cut through Jonah’s thoughts.
“What? Oh, yes.” He patted the small pocket at his breast, able to feel the smooth, round metal beneath the layer of wool. “I’ve got both of them.”
Michael settled against the squabs as the car moved swiftly through the night, and though the journey itself was short, it took just under fifteen minutes by the time they cleared the security zone outside Daniella’s house. Their identification disks were carefully checked, to ensure they should access this area.
They waited for the driver to open the door then stumbled out and headed up the steps. The concrete of them appeared artfully aged so it took on a stone-like visage, and as always, Jonah shook his head. “I don’t get the whole ‘pretend it’s something else.’”
Michael simply laughed until he caught sight of another vehicle, lights cutting through the wintry gloom. “Is that...”
The question hung in the air as the driver ushered them up the steps. “Yes, sir, but they request that you be in position before they park.”
“Well then, let’s not keep my bride waiting!”
Jonah gave a bark of laughter at Michael’s joyous words and followed him up the steps and into the building.
Jonah sipped slowly at the wine in his hand. The deed completed—Michael and Clarissa married—he now waited for the chance to make his getaway.
If only it were that simple. The senator watched him from the far side of the room, her svelte body wrapped in a bluish-green costume, reminiscent of the pale champagne one the bride wore. A salwar kameez, Michael had informed him, in honor of their long-ago ancestry. It didn’t exactly hide her lithe figure, yet even though there was nothing suggestive in the cut or fit, he found himself unable to steer his gaze in another direction. Her hair, which was tugged up and back in a soft tumble, glinted below the gems of the light.
“She’s something to look at, isn’t she?” He hadn’t heard Franklin’s approach and mentally reprimanded himself for the lapse.
“Michael’s sister is a beautiful woman.” It took every ounce of willpower to keep his voice neutral, but Franklin’s snort informed him that he hadn’t managed to keep his interest to
himself.
Movement caught his eye; Agent Fairburn weaving toward him. With a murmur, he headed in the direction, Franklin following him. The three men halted in the hallway, while Jonah checked carefully to ensure that none of the guests would overhear them.
“What?”
The agent’s gaze met his. “We have a lead, sir. A teen boy believed to be around fourteen, at the emergency room at Velspar Community Care. He’s showing signs of hypothermia, damage to extremities, however, his recovery does not indicate long-term exposure, and there is a general belief that his healing factors are through the roof. He was admitted at seven o’clock with compromised digits on one hand, and the other at about fifty percent. By nine, his observations show them once again at close to optimal. His file was flagged as requiring further investigation. Internal organ damage has been noted in the data tagged by our monitoring systems.”
Accelerated healing factors were among the few triggers they’d managed to lock down so far. The children and teens carefully sown in the lab of Dr. Jeremy Colvert had received injections of organic-based cybernetic growth hormones at the point of conception. The children they’d located had a wide range of specialist factors from enhanced linguistic abilities and hearing, through to hyper-speed, strength, and strategic capabilities. For all the advancements though, many displayed tendencies to rages, extreme mood changes, and in some cases psychoses.
Jonah scratched his head, considering the information Fairburn had just imparted.
“Any further information on location, carers...”
“Negative. The boy appears normal but is either mute or has been taught not to respond.
No family has been tracked down, and the trace DNA—as we’ve found with the few other children—is proving inconclusive.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Jonah made a lightning-quick decision. “Inform Michael and Clarissa. However, unless this turns sour, we’ll continue this investigation without them.”
“And the senator?” Fairburn’s words shot straight to his gut.
She’d want in, and while he might need the presence of a female depending on the teen, it went against everything he’d been taught to involve a civilian. Even one of her position. “No. We’ll inform her after the fact.”
Jonah spun on his heel and headed for the door, refusing to look back, because he just knew that if he did, she’d be there. That’s the way his luck always turned. The butler at the door took one look at the two men striding purposefully forward and hurried to hold the glass door wide, eyes darting to and fro as if embarrassed by the testosterone they exuded. All the while, Jonah held his breath. Only when the door thudded closed did he exhale.