When you can feel nothing
Summary
In which several people work out their problems, and Jonas is up to who knows what.
"Killing is easy when you can feel nothing."
— From S1E10, "What is human?"
July 22, 2017
"Riley Blue!" greeted a familiar voice as the cluster and allies began their now-familiar breakfast routine.
Riley saw the flash of orange hair and sighed at the sight of the Australian: studded leather jacket and distressed jeans with chains, a wink and a shit-eating grin. And a huge messenger bag slung over one shoulder, fully packed.
"What are you doing here?" asked Will, standing in front of Riley.
Leon walked into the kitchen after Puck. "No worries, mate. He's with me. The Archipelago sent him over."
"Bowling ball." Puck said to Will. "And friends. Cluster-mates, I presume?"
Mavis strolled into the kitchen and groaned at the sight of Puck.
"You're playing messenger now?"
"The Archipelago didn't send me here to talk, Mayve." She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "They need a chemist."
"More traders disappeared?" asked Henrik, who turned from the stove where he was cooking, skillet still in his hand.
"Opposite problem, actually. New supply o' Blockers came in some days ago. Got some new volunteer traders, too. But the Blockers did anything but blockin'."
"What do you mean?" asked Capheus. He was standing by the toaster with a breakfast tray, collecting food to send to Kiira's room.
The woman in question had been sleeping for the past twelve hours or so. The rescue mission had been taxing for all people involved, Kiira most of all — when they'd brought her in yesterday, she looked like she hadn't rested in days.
"Sensates are disappearing. More than before. Right after they received the new supply, from the new traders in our midst."
Kala froze in her track on her way to the fridge. "The Reciphorum. Oh, no."
"They used it as a tracker," Nomi added, two mugs of coffee in hand. Next to her, Amanita muttered shit under her breath.
"Seems you know more about this drug than I do. I'm off to the lab, makin' real Blockers." He turned to look at Kala, gesturing to his bag before he moved towards the stairs. "I came prepared. Care to join me, love?"
"Neuroscientists from the Biological Preservation Organization believe the violent episodes at the tennis match in Shanghai Stadium three days ago were a side-effect of the same fatal epigenetic brain mutation responsible for the death of seven patients in California…"
The sound of the news reporter's voice reverberated through the hallway. The television was set on the highest volume so people in the basement could hear the update. Will had shut himself back into his room following breakfast. His Blocker was wearing off, and with the newest development, he hoped he could find his way into Whispers' mind again and try to figure out BPO's next move.
Alas, the Headhunter thought with a chuckle, he and Gorski had the same idea.
Upon hearing his thoughts, Will tensed, tightening the straps of the blindfold around his eyes. It was getting harder to remove himself from inside Will's head, to visit and deduce his surroundings. Admittedly, it was a significant setback. But judging by the shiver running through Will's body, it was likely the ex-officer was more distressed by their new connection dynamics than he was.
He could use it to his advantage.
Good morning, Officer Gorski, he thought, doing his best impression of a whisper through their minds. He felt Will shift in his seat and stiffen his posture.
Huh. Will was trying to sound unfazed. You trying to spy on me before I can spy on you?
Milton let out a scoff. Is that what you call this? Spying?
He felt Will shrug. You're usually more careful with your Blocker, thought Will. Can't let anyone inside your head, can you? It's getting too risky, at this stage of your little world domination scheme. So you must have something to show me. Well, Milt, I'm all ears.
With a twitch of his mouth, Milton felt Will's consciousness slide into his own mind. He opened his eyes, making sure Will could see where he was: the stark white auditorium of the London Headquarter, gray-tiled walls and marble floor. Sensates and sapiens in Hazmat suits sat in the audience watching as he walked to center stage.
The employees whispered to each other. This characteristic air of unease always seemed to float about the place. More so when, following his entry on stage, the guards behind him rolled out a bald man strapped to a stretcher, his white-robed uniform stained with sweat and blood, and handed the Headhunter a pistol.
There would always be sacrifices in war. And Will Gorski had chosen the losing side. It was time to show him the consequences of his cluster's actions.
"I have been informed there are traitors in our midst," he spoke into the microphone, calm as ever. "And the Chairman does not tolerate disloyalty."
Will tensed.
"But I realized we have never explicitly showed exactly what treachery would cost. A mistake I plan to fix."
Turning to the traitor, he raised his pistol. He aimed it at the man's head as he walked around until he was behind the stretcher so everyone could get a clear view of the execution. The man — Mason was his name, judging by the tag he wore on his soiled robe — was fully conscious now, trying to loosen himself as best he could under the restraints. Mason stared cross-eyed at the gun in his hand.
He switched off the safety lock. Mason muttered something, too, pathetic pleas, fruitless attempts to spare his traitor life. Please, sir. Please.
His muscles tensed, and he knew Gorski was trying to take control of his body. Smirking, he reached his left hand into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a syringe, which he injected into his arm before he pulled his trigger. The pricking sensation as the Blocker kicked into effect was all too familiar to him by now, and he relished the buzzing in his head, more so when he registered the sound of Will cursing out loud back in his hideout.
Will had tried and failed to take control over the arm holding the gun. It was one of the few instances where Milton was relieved no sensate with their frontal lobes intact could share outside their cluster. The timing was perfect. Almost too perfect.
The bullet shot out of the pistol and lodged itself between Mason's eyes. Milton made sure to keep his own eyes open and his mind focused on his fading connection with Will. He wanted the younger sensate to see the life go out in the traitor's eyes.
This war against Homo sapien could not be won without necessary bloodshed, without all the sensates devoted to the same cause. His cause. His army.
The sooner Will and his cluster understood, the better.
As the current of Will's racing thoughts drifted further away, he felt Will punch a wall, his knuckles aching and bruising from the impact. He caught a glimpse of Riley rushing into the room to pull him into her arms, to stop him from hurting himself. With Miss Gunnarsdóttir present, it was the perfect time to deliver the final punch.
Send my regards to Lito Rodríguez.
That afternoon, María returned from her new hideout to collect the newly packaged Blockers Puck had made, blue capsules instead of black. Kala had proposed this idea so sensates in need could distinguish the newly made, 100% safe products from the potentially tainted ones still going around the Archipelago. She and Andy had permanently relocated from Beijing to Berlin, the city where Bug and the Veracity hackers believed the next BPO-staged attack would take place.
It seemed surreal that María ended up as a Veracity agent, and Lito as part of a group of sensate vigilantes. But the more he believed his life was not as dramatic as his movies, the more the world proved him wrong.
His concern at the moment, though, had nothing to do with spying.
María sat on a bench in the front garden of the safe house, sipping a mug of hot chocolate. Before Lito could announce his presence, she had already scooted over to make space. It was as if becoming a spy had made her extrasensory. Or maybe, Lito thought, frowning, his footsteps were simply too loud.
"Out of all the ways I imagined seeing you again, Lito, I never thought it would be like this."
She laid the mug atop her lap and put her hands around it to warm herself up. Lito realized she was wearing a wedding band. He opened his mouth, and closed it again with no idea how he could begin to explain.
They used to be the kind of friends who always had something to talk about. Now, as she waited for him to speak, there was nothing but silence.
"You know, your cluster's reputation precedes you," she continued to speak. "I heard about the August 8 cluster a year ago when two of you broke out from the Iceland facility. And I remember thinking, 'Hey, that's Lito's birthday. Wouldn't it be the coolest thing if he was actually one of them?'."
"How long have you been -"
"A spy?" she finished his sentence. They exchanged a smile, and she winked, and for a second he felt like they were teenagers again, chatting on their way to school.
He nodded.
"Two years. Three, if you count the training."
"That's -" Impressive? Scary? A little bit of both? - "That's longer than I've been a sensate."
María quirked an eyebrow. "Then tell me, Agent Lito. How long have you been a sensate?"
The old nickname put Lito at ease. He wondered if María did it intentionally. If, after all these years, she still retained her uncanny ability to guess what was on his mind.
"Over a year," he said. "How did you know about BPO?"
"Remember when I took a year off after we finished high school?"
"You went to America."
It was the first time they'd parted, truly parted. When she came back, Lito had already left for Mexico City for his first audition. He used to wonder if things would have different if he'd gone traveling with her. But he'd come to realize, with the uncertainties in his future looming about his mind, that his contemplations about past had been shoved into a corner of his mind, indefinitely forgotten.
"That's where I met Andy. I knew he was a hacker. But later he confessed to me that he hacks for Veracity, and, well, you know how it goes from there."
"I know," he echoed, still frowning. "María -"
His friend turned at the same time he did. They looked each other, neither of them speaking another word for a few seconds. Her gaze, he realized, now encompassed a firmness as well as the air of mischief he remembered. Lito had seen the changes in her appearance during their encounter a few nights back, but this time he was able to notice a thin scar on her right cheekbone. A nick from a blade, perhaps?
She noticed where he was looking. "Oh, yeah. A little souvenir from my training." Then, with a sigh, "Lito, I know what you were gonna say. I've been keeping track of the news."
"You have?"
Moving a hand away from the mug she held, she punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Of course, silly. My best friend's a movie star. A great conversation starter, no?"
After all these years, she still knew how to make him smile.
"I'm mad about the kiss, though."
His expression turned grim, and he opened his mouth to apologize, before he took another look at her and noticed a slight tick at the corners of her mouth. "Ay, María!" he tried to sound angry, but failed miserably, bursting into laughter instead.
After his laughter subsided, he asked, "You're really not mad?"
"It's in the past, Lito. We were kids."
Part of his brain wanted him to ask why not? Why aren't you mad? Truth be told, he had expected her to tell him he had lied to her, that he'd betrayed her trust. That was the reason he hesitated to approach her in the garden, even though it was clear she'd been waiting to talk to him. He'd have to thank Nomi later, for making him get out here.
"I can imagine how hard it must be to come out," she answered in response to the question he never asked. "With you being -" she put on her best impression of a news announcer's voice - "Lito Rodríguez, recently voted the sexiest man alive in En Fuego."
He smiled in relief. She gave his shoulder a light squeeze.
"And it worked out well in the end, didn't it? I have Andy, you have Hernando and Dani."
Lito nearly jumped in his seat. "You need to meet my family!"
"Oh, we introduced ourselves, when you were helping out in the lab. Dani's a delight. And Hernando, well…"
"Yes?"
"He's cute. Really cute. But he's not my type."
Lito laughed. "What's Andy like?"
"We've got to properly introduce everyone. Preferably after we take care of BPO."
"Can't you stay for the night?"
"I wish I could, Lito. But Andy and I have some protecting to do."
She sounded just like the old María, the one who'd puff out her chest atop a one-story building and declare the two of them as "guardians of the city". But now their responsibility involved real life and death, and the stakes were higher, much more tangible, than the products of their wild imagination.
This could very well be the last time they saw each other.
"We've got this, Agent Lito," said María. She knew what was on his mind. If it weren't for the lack of an Echo when they'd made eye contact back in Beijing, Lito would have believed her to be a very skilled sensate. "I mean, your cluster's basically an army. And all of us in Veracity's rooting for you. There's talk in the Archipelago, too."
"No pressure," he muttered.
"Tell you what," she tried to lighten the mood. "We can meet again, after your cluster brings down BPO and become actual superheroes. We'll go to a nice restaurant somewhere, and the five of us can talk. We've got a lot of catching up to do."
Lito smiled. "I'd like that."
On their night shift, Lito approached Sun with a cup of tea in hand. She gestured for him to leave it on the coffee stand. He sat down next to her at arm's length and turned to watch her frown at nothing in particular.
"Sun," he started. He wanted to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention, but thought better of it, remembering how she almost murdered Nomi after she'd snuck up on her. After Beijing, the last thing he needed was more bruises
She turned to look at him, her face conveying all the impatience of a sleep-deprived mother dealing with a pestering child. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, somehow managing to guess his intention before he'd realized what he wanted to say.
"You don't have to say anything." With his best puppy dog eyes, he looked at the space between them on the couch. Sun sighed before nodding. He inched closer until their arms were brushing. "We couldn't have saved Kiira without your help, Sun."
She raised an eyebrow, amused. "You couldn't?"
"You know we couldn't!" He grinned a playful grin, hoping to put her at ease. "They weren't expecting a martial arts champion. But you, you stormed in, and you were -" Lito shook his fist and bared his teeth, doing his best impression of a tough fighter type guy - "surprise!"
He knew Sun was holding back a smile.
"Felix and I would've been destroyed if you weren't there," he continued. "You saw how I was. You saved me."
There was a pause in which neither of them spoke. Sun sat there frowning, lips pressed into a thin line. "You too," she said finally, looking down at her hands.
Lito was quieter when he spoke again. He wanted her to help her work through her feelings, but the last thing he wanted to do was come across as forceful, in case she put up her walls again. "It's what we do. We help each other."
Sun breathed through her nostrils, slowly, still frowning. Lito knew what she was going to say. When they were on their way back, she may as well have been thinking out loud, despite the Blockers they were on. She had stared into space for their entire flight with her shoulders tense, one tight hand clutching the other, which was curled up in a fist, like she was anticipating another fight, one she could not afford to lose.
If Lito could still read her mind, he was pretty sure he'd hear her think, But I didn't help you back there. We almost lost, because of what I -
"No," he insisted.
A confused Sun to turn to look at him. With a jolt, Lito realized he'd said it out loud. He'd interrupted the voice in his mind that sounded like Sun, forgetting that after their encounter with Pelzer, they had all started staying on Blockers. Even speaking English had become second nature after he'd spent so long hiding with his clusters and allies.
"No, what?" Sun asked.
"Don't blame yourself."
She huffed. "I can't help what I think."
"Maybe not," he conceded. "But I can try to convince you to think something else?"
He could tell by the way she parted her lips slightly that she was intrigued. Puzzled, too. But mostly curious.
"You can try. I can't promise it'll work."
"I know you feel like you failed back there, like you failed me, when we got a hold of the -" he paused before he could say taser, not wanting to startle her, to make her back away in the middle of a conversation they very much needed to have - "when we found out the guard wasn't using a gun."
She looked like she wanted to say something, maybe to point out that it was a failure on her part because their target had almost escaped. Almost. But he wouldn't hear it. He continued, "But before that? When we ran in and those guards came after us? You were sweeping the men left and right, you were - I couldn't even see what you were doing. You defeated them all -" he imitated the way she'd blocked attacks with her hands, with her foot, making her chuckle - "like that. You were a - a tornado."
"Was I?" She was trying not to smile, to give him the satisfaction that he'd succeeded in cheering her up somewhat. Not that it ever fooled him.
"You don't remember how you fight, but I do. I love a good action scene."
She smirked, shaking her head as his eyes widened when he realized she'd relented. "Not all my fights look like that," she said. "Sometimes it's harder."
Like on her last night in prison. The memory still haunted his cluster, Sun most of all, as much as she tried to brush it off. Those fucking cowards had used tasers. They knew they couldn't have won any other way. That didn't count as a loss to Lito.
But it did to Sun.
"Maybe that's the problem."
"What is?"
Lito hovered a hand above her shoulder and waited for her nod before putting his arm around her. "Every time we call for your help, we expect you to win." He snapped his finger. "Easy, like that. Because we'd never seen you lose."
She thought about it. "I haven't lost in a long time."
"That doesn't mean you couldn't."
Frowning, she looked at him, like she wanted to say something in protest but couldn't find the right words.
Lito continued, "I know it would be easier, whatever we plan to do now, if there is some - some magical way to make sure we always win. But that's the problem. You make fighting look easy, like magic, and sometimes we forget how hard it can be."
Like when Lito had tackled Karl Pelzer and expected to come out fully victorious. He'd spent so much time in Sun's head, he'd forgotten that by himself, with the body he controlled, he had almost no training in hand-to-hand combat. Sun had to rescue him, like she did with everyone all the time.
"Remember when I thought my career was over? I gave up. I gave up and I told myself that was it. But you'd never do that. You would have kept fighting."
"I would," she admitted.
"That's the problem, Sun. It's not fair that I can lie in bed in my pajamas and cry for days, and you always have to go on like everything's fine."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying -" he pulled her in closer and hugged her, his chin resting on top of her head - "losing a fight doesn't make you less of a fighter."
He could tell he was getting through to her. Still, she asked, "It doesn't?"
"No," he said. "Especially not for you. I know you're used to winning, but no one can do it all the time. No one's that perfect."
"I suppose you have a point."
He reached for the box of Kleenex on the coffee stand. "Here."
She pulled herself out of the hug and pursed her lips, unamused. "I'm not going to cry."
"Okay. No crying." He put the box back and raised his hands in surrender. "But I'm here, if you need to talk. If you need to tell me how scary these tasers are, I can help."
"Thank you, Lito."
He pulled her back into the hug. "It's what family does."
In his hotel room, Maitake concentrated on finding Jonas' mind through their connection. Marcela sat next to him on his bed and waited for him to give her the signal. They were under surveillance. He knew Veronika had eyes and ears everywhere, watching him establish the connection to try and negotiate for Lila's freedom. Veronika would've liked to use Lila for the next operation, after all.
Marcela curled her hand into a fist, manicured nails making dents against her flesh. Maitake knew how much his cluster-mate hated to succumb to the Russian's plans. But they had agreed it was for the best. They couldn't overthrow Veronika when one of their cluster was being interrogated in who knows where. Paris? Or perhaps they'd relocated by now.
Jonas' Blocker dosage wasn't as powerful as the August 8 cluster believed. After spending so long in interrogation, he'd developed a bit of resistance, and the effects started wearing off earlier than Mrs Rasal's calculations led them to believe. Not so much that his new allies would be able to notice he was fully connected again, but enough to let a few voices from his memory slip. To let others know he was there.
Maitake heard a buzzing in the Psycellium, as if on cue. It grew louder and more intense before fading altogether.
How many minutes have you got? he cut to the chase, tapping his finger against his knee to tell Marcela he'd found Jonas. Only one of them had been allowed off Blockers for the time being. Veronika had wanted this plan to succeed, but not badly enough to risk her control over the cluster. Just like they'd predicted.
He heard a chuckle from the other end. Five, give or take.
"Is he alone?" asked Marcela, a meticulous gaze trained on the center of an abstract portrait that hung behind his bed. She looked like she was fixating on the target for her next assassination, ready to shoot. No one had ordered a hit from her for months, since they'd all become more involved in BPO's dealings. But old habits die hard.
Are you alone?
I'm in my room. Someone will come with my Blocker soon.
Good, let's talk, thought Maitake, exchanging a look with his cluster-mate. We need Lila back. What's it going to take?
What makes you think I'm willing to help?
Marcela raised an eyebrow. Maitake shook his, frowning. She mirrored his expression and turned back to the painting, as if it could give them an answer.
I know you, Jonas, he answered. You're not as loyal to your allies as you may believe.
I never tried to deceive myself on where I stand.
Marcela scoffed like she could guess what Jonas was saying.
I believe it's best if you negotiate with the cluster members, thought Jonas. They're not exactly thrilled about having a prisoner in the hideout.
Are they interrogating her?
You and I both know Lila's can hold her own against any sensate. The question is, for how long?
"What could they want from her?" asked Marcela. Maitake relayed the question.
Nothing in particular. Though they are rather keen to know more about their enemy in BPO before they come up with an annihilation plan. About Veronika, if not the Headhunters.
It seemed they were at least on the same page regarding the Russian. A small consolation which could prove itself useful down the line.
That could be arranged, Maitake thought. Lila in exchange for information.
In theory, Jonas thought, sounding amused.
What do you mean?
If Lila has the same information, what makes you think they'd agree to your terms? They could pry it out of her. Do not underestimate them, Maitake.
You think they wouldn't agree to the trade?
They might. But they'll try the same tactic they used last time.
Maitake still seethed whenever he thought about their loss that evening, the last evening he saw his whole cluster together. They'd anticipated the August 8 cluster to put up a fight, to try and make it out with their end of their bargain but not fulfill BPO's. They hadn't anticipated losing.
Jonas chuckled. They'll agree to a trade, but they never play by the rules, Maitake. I suspect they won't carry through with their end of the agreement.
Those bastards. You think they'll leave Lila behind?
Most likely. Perhaps they'll catch another one of you, if you aren't careful.
We won't be so careless.
Jonas nodded.
And we'll need - Maitake closed his eyes and sighed - we'll need your assistance.
What makes you think I will risk my life for an inter-cluster war?
"He's not willing," said Maitake, feeling his consciousness fade back into the hotel room.
Marcela tutted her tongue, the agreed-upon signal for their doomsday tactic. It was a plan their cluster had arranged in the brief minute before the rest of them were put on another Blocker dose, not to be used unless Jonas could not be persuaded any other way.
Maitake tried to keep his expression neutral, knowing Veronika could be watching. The one place they were safe from her was inside their mind. With the new bargaining chip in hand, he was confident Jonas would be more open to negotiation.
Well, for one, it would be easy to inform your allies of your connection with us. And you will lose the trust you worked so hard to gain.
He heard Jonas take a deep breath. I'm listening.
And the second reason - Maitake sat a little straighter - concerns an old friend of yours.
You'll have to be more specific.
Kareem Asghar. Veronika's prisoner. Used to work with Angelica before Milton came along, didn't he? One of your oldest friends?
Jonas tensed. What about him?
Veronika thinks he's got no more use for her. She has her men infiltrating the Blocker trade to gain the information he concealed from the Headhunters.
He felt a surge of panic through their connection and smirked, knowing he was getting through to Jonas.
Kareem's lobotomy is arranged for July 12th, he added. Five days from now.
Did Veronika tell you to tell me?
She doesn't know. Maitake exchanged a smirk with Marcela. And I think it's best, for all our sakes, for us to keep it that way. There's still time to save him. If you agree to our terms.
Jonas took a deep breath. What's it going to take?
Lila, Maitake thought simply. You have to free her, if the August 8 cluster doesn't.
July 23, 2017
"I'm worried about you, Miss Bak."
Sun glared Nomi, who sat across the living room, typing away on her laptop. Amanita smiled and leaned against Nomi's shoulder. They were sharing a pair of purple earbuds, were probably eavesdropping on her conversation with Mun.
Sun sighed. Nomi's all-access ways and unending supply of burner numbers would be the death of her. "Your concern is unwarranted, Detective."
"Aww, Sun," said Amanita, her head on Nomi's shoulder. "Don't be mean."
"Well, it is part of my job to locate runaway prisoners," Detective Mun retorted. She imagined him scratching the back of his head from his office in Seoul. "So my concern is very much warranted."
"I can stay alive perfectly well on my own."
"Yeah, well." He paused, and she heard papers ruffling from his end. "I don't doubt you'll bite someone's head off, if they try to attack."
"So why are you calling?"
"Funny," said Mun. "See, I was about to leave my office, but I received an anonymous text with this number on it. I was under the impression you wanted to talk."
You're welcome, mouthed Nomi. Sun wanted to punch a table, but the nearest coffee stand was made of glass. So she settled for clutching her hand into a fist.
"I stand corrected," he continued when she didn't respond. "You didn't send me the number, did you? Must be your hacker friend."
Amanita raised an eyebrow. "Oh, he's good."
"My hacker friend?" Sun tried to sound amused.
"Come on, Miss Bak. Prison system override? The incriminating records on your brother that mysteriously reappeared?"
"I don't know anything about that."
"Must be a coincidence," he said, fully unconvinced.
"It was."
"The court cannot proceed with your brother's trial without your testimony. I promised I'd keep you safe, if you turn yourself in. The deal still stands."
"I appreciate your concern. But I cannot accept the offer." Not yet, anyway. Not when BPO was hot on her trail, and anyone involved with her would be in mortal peril.
"I'll wait for you to change your mind."
"What makes you think I will?"
"Wherever you're hiding right now -" he paused. She heard something squeaking. Perhaps he was stretching on his cushy office chair - "it would appear the world's destined on drawing you out. Have you heard the news?"
"Which one?"
"The brain mutations, violent episodes… The world's not safe, Miss Bak."
After everything she and her cluster went through, that was hardly news. "The world is never safe." You should know that. Better than most.
"Just be careful, wherever you are. You haven't come across any attacks, I hope?"
"Nice try, Mun."
There was a pause. She heard him chuckle. "What happened to 'Detective'?"
She was certain Detective Mun was holding back a smirk. That infuriating, smug, lop-sided smile that made her want to have a go at him, to knock that expression right off his face. But he was back in Korea, out of reach. So she settled for punching the couch cushion. Nomi and Amanita giggled.
"Yeah, Sun," Nomi teased, "what happened to 'Detective'?"
"Nothing happened, Detective," she said through clenched teeth.
Mun laughed. Sun wanted to punch a wall.
"Whatever you say, Miss Bak." He sounded like he was full-on smirking now. "I have to catch the last train home now. My offer still stands. But -" She imagined him raising his hands in surrender - "I understand if you still don't want to come home. Though I'm sure when you're ready to talk, your hacker friend will send me a number."
She glared at Nomi, who winked before pecking Amanita on the cheek.
"I'm sure she will."
After Mun hung up, Sun buried her head in the couch cushion she was using as a substitute punching bag. Nomi moved to sit next to Sun on her couch, and Amanita sat on her other side. And, as if Sun hadn't embarrassed herself enough for one morning, they waited for her to pull her face from the couch cushion before congratulating her on "winning over a detective's heart" — Amanita's exact words.
She should have been annoyed at Nomi for setting her up a second time. Or mad. Or both. Unfortunately, Sun had discovered over the past year or so that there was simply no way she could stay angry at her cluster-mate for very long. So as Nomi and Amanita pulled her into a side-hug, she crossed her arms and did her best to convey she was not at all amused by the little set-up stunt they pulled.
It fooled no one.
Will reminded Jonas of what he once was: young, determined, protective of the ones he loved at all costs. Though, he'd never been as keen to declare his allegiance to any side as Will as an adult, Jonas saw in him the same decisiveness he had in his youth, prioritizing the things in life he valued most. Once Jonas thought his purpose was finding a place where he belonged. After his rebirth, he realized it was finding a way to stay alive.
Angelica believed life could go on after death, so long as there was something — or someone — for their spirits to return to. She lived on through her children, and Jonas tried to see them the same way. But the difference between them was that Angelica was never afraid of the unknown. Jonas, on the other hand, dreaded uncertainty. If there ever was a choice, he would have preferred to live on through his carnal form, in full control of his place in the world, instead of appearing in the corners of someone's mind.
Nonetheless, he felt obligated to provide Angelica's children and their allies, with knowledge he'd acquired by his own experience. Which was why, at the moment, a bewildered Will and Henrik sat on his bed, per his request.
Scratching his permanently tousled hair, Henrik tried to crack a joke, though Jonas could sense his hesitation. "You're not interrogating us, are you?"
Will, on the other hand, frowned and fell silent.
"In your own house?" Jonas raised an eyebrow. "That's hardly wise."
The young men looked at each other with identical blue-eyed apprehension and pursed lips before turning to Jonas, waiting for him to explain himself. In the clusters he'd met, there was always someone who exuded trust and a sense of parental authority despite being the same age as their cluster-mates.
He was hardly a mentor-like figure to Will's cluster, with his general inability to help and the secrets he'd never told. But it was a relief to know he could inform the men of what knowledge he could afford to pass on and hope it could work to their benefit in a post-BPO world. Ideally, he would be around to see this play out.
Realistically? Lila was a wild card, and her cluster's shifting allegiance away from Veronika's side had added a new variable in his involvement in the rebellion against the Headhunters. He didn't know what the future would hold. The lack of control over his fate was daunting, to say the least.
"Angelica believed sensates experience love in its purest form," said Jonas. "I mentioned it once before. But what I did no elaborate on was what exactly that love entailed. It was not, like most people would believe, always romantic love. Although that form of love tended to come faster, more intense, for many sensates.
"Some people feel affection through platonic love, love between cluster-mates of a non-romantic nature. Many underestimate the strength of that love, but I have seen some that are equally as powerful as romantic love, if not more. Your clusters -" Jonas looked at the door, outside which people were going about their afternoon routines - "have intense bonds, more than most clusters I've met."
They nodded, wondering why Jonas was talking to them about their love life like a parent would if they were trying too hard to bond with their child.
"It is possible that one of your cluster-mates would carry an unborn cluster and give birth in the near future."
Henrik froze like a teenager caught sneaking into his girlfriend's house through her bedroom window after dark. Will's ears turned scarlet.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed of." Jonas looked at the affronted young men, amused. "Birthing other clusters is a natural stage of a mature sensate's life."
Henrik cleared his throat. "Mature in what way?"
"Mature in terms of emotional connection. In terms of love."
"Oh, God," Will muttered under his breath, suppressing a groan.
Jonas continued, "New clusters are formed by love within a parent cluster. I believe that was why Yrsa was aversive this type of love."
"She thought sensates are best left unborn," Will recalled.
Henrik suppressed a shudder. Jonas imagined he was picturing a life in which he had never met Georgina. Connections, once established, could not be taken away without emotional repercussions. Losing part of a cluster hurt as much as losing part of oneself with no means to recover. And finding love in a cluster was the opposite: the only way Jonas could put the feeling into words was that it magnified the intensity like a person was experiencing the same affection twice, but at the same time.
"So should you find yourselves, or anyone else in your cluster, feeling sensations that emerge from an unknown source, it is likely that they're expecting to birth a cluster of their own. It's a life-changing experience. And I trust the two of you will be responsible to help your cluster see through the completion of the stages before the actual birth."
It was Will's turn to freeze. Henrik stared at Jonas with a slack jaw. "Jonas," he said, slowly and quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. "Are you trying to give us 'The Talk'?"
There were snickers outside the door, multiple voices whispering and giggling. Several footsteps pattered out of the hallway before he could open the door to find out the identities of the eavesdroppers. But, judging by the pair of high-shrieked laughter echoing from the living room, it was an easy enough guess for Jonas. In terms of theatrics, Leon certainly gave Lito a run for his money.
Jonas had never been one to blush, but needless to say, it was an awkward call-out. "If you prefer to think about it that way," he replied, as calmly as he could. "But I prefer to think of this as an interlude."
"An interlude to what?" asked Will.
"Something to think about before you retreat back into the comfort of your clusters and go back to planning your next step in this war. A glimpse into what your future may hold."
Jonas found it odd that most sensates Mothers and Fathers chose to avoid the topic until a cluster was well on their way to rebirth. His Father, though, had sat with all eighty of his children at some point in their lives and explained, in very certain terms, what to expect throughout the process of birthing a new cluster. It was fortunate his Father was around to guide them through the process.
"If we were to have children, I hope BPO won't be a problem for them," said Henrik.
"It won't be," said Will, ever so determined.
It was difficult for Jonas to imagine the emotional disturbance that came with being reborn at a time Headhunters were active. He was reborn at a time before BPO, a time when sensate researchers like Angelica, worked on their own terms, examining the phenomenon of their natural yet supernatural existence. There was no authority to interfere with their findings, no sapien leader who sought to recruit sensates to their side to do work against members of their own species.
With all the meticulous plotting that went into Veronika's schemes, he was surprised she would underestimate the lengths sensates would go to avoid capture. Forced allegiance had never worked out well for either end of the power hierarchy. Authority like this was most vulnerable to collapse. Jonas was surprised Veronika and her Headhunters didn't take the history of warfare into account when they planned their operations.
"Whatever the future may hold, I believe it's in your best interest to know sooner rather than later. Your relationship with members of your cluster is stable, to say the least. Your minds have grown accustomed, dependent, even, to the power that came with the increased connections. It would welcome any means of expanding itself, including establishing connections to a new, unborn cluster."
"I look forward to it," said Will.
Jonas chuckled. "Right now the neural network inside connects you to members of your own cluster, perhaps a few others, more in Henrik's case. But when you are expecting a new cluster, the consciousness of your unborn children will be privy to influence from your mind. So protecting your brain, is crucial. A head damage would not bode well."
Henrik sighed. "Probably good that we find out now. In case the next battle comes at a bad time for any of us."
Jonas nodded. He knew Will and Jonas preferred to know their enemies before a battle. They liked to be prepared for the good and the bad. Their love lives, for one, could benefit from guidance from their sensate predecessors, considering the ever-expansive and reproductive nature of their minds.
Usually it was Angelica's job to give her children this talk. The first time round, it had been an amusing experience for all parties involved, Mother and child alike. In the end they had managed to compile the facts in a somewhat coherent manner. Jonas swallowed, thinking about their lost children. Like everything else in his adulthood, they had been taken too soon. It was after her first cluster's death that he'd decided to take a side once and for all.
Angelica's side.
"Have a drink with me," Dani said to Felix that evening, after their allies had finished cleaning the kitchen. She grabbed his arm before he could open his mouth to protest, and let go with an immediate apology when he moaned in pain.
Unlike her, he hadn't made it out of his battle unscathed. According to Lito, Felix had spent most of the fight trying to shield Kiira from the guards' blows, earning a few scratches up his arms and a sprained left shoulder.
She let him sit down again, and walked over to the fridge. "Still hurts?"
He flashed her a dopey grin. "Yeah. Gonna get a few scars."
Dani couldn't help but shake her head at that. She let out a half-exasperated, half-amused sort of chuckle. She looked towards his chest, currently covered by a blue Hawaiian shirt. "I think you have plenty of scars as it stands."
At that, his grin faded. She quirked an eyebrow as she took out the dry sparkling wine and orange juice and reached for the champagne flutes in the cabinet, pouring two mimosas.
"Dani," Felix started. He sounded a little hoarse. Serious, even.
She turned. He met her eyes. She brought over their drinks and joined him at the counter, turning the stool so she faced him.
"I missed talking to you," she told him, before he opened his mouth again.
She had a feeling what he wanted to talk about, but she didn't want him to be the one to lead the discussion. She'd find herself suppressing a chill if anyone brought up her past, even Lito and Hernando. And her talk with Wolfgang had confirmed what she'd suspected: that Felix discerned more about her history than he'd let on.
Felix nodded. She tried not to look too surprised. She'd expected him to switch to his one of his lighter conversation-starters, maybe point out how they'd only parted for about two days. "I missed talking to you, too, Dani."
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "So… Are we okay?"
He nodded again before downing his whole glass of mimosa, slamming the champagne flute back on the counter. Dani brought her drink to her lips and took a sip, watching him.
The corners of his mouth tensed for a second before he spoke. "Dani, I know there's some things in your - in your past, something you don't wanna say. Hell, I get it. It's fine if you don't want to tell me."
"Felix, what are you -"
He held up a finger, asking her to hold her questions, as his other hand started unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. When the buttons were undone, he revealed his torso, pushing the fabric aside so she could see his scars in their entirety, angry criss-crosses mixed with bullet wounds over his chest.
She'd his scars before, in their dim-lit London hideout, but underneath the kitchen lights, there was a starkness to the fading white lines and splotches that made her wince. The scars glinted as she tilted her head to examine his chest, noting that a fair bit seemed to be near the left side. Close to his heart.
"I said I got these from saving a damsel." He looked down at his chest. His voice was gravely, unrecognizable, devoid of the usual suave inflection. There was a vulnerability in the way he spoke, one she'd never associated with the man who'd bragged about taking out six beefy bouncers at Luzia with his bare fists.
"I did think there was more to it." She set her drink on the counter. Dani never thought she'd be the one to try and ease the tension. But she realized it was the first time she saw Felix like this: lost, apprehensive. Scared. "I didn't wanna pry," she added. "You're allowed to have secrets. We all got 'em."
"I want you to know."
"Okay," she said, putting her hand over his.
He looked up to meet her eyes. "I didn't get these from saving a damsel. Someone shot me."
She put a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Felix -"
"No," he interrupted, before she could express sympathy. "I deserved it. I fucked up. Like, really fucked up. And I paid the price."
"What did you do?"
"Over a year ago, Wolfie's cousin Steiner planned out this heist. He was gonna drill a safe and steal some diamonds, sell them, make a fortune. But Wolfie and I, we wanted to prove something. We wanted to prove we could do it better. So we beat Steiner to it."
"You got caught?"
"We didn't. That's the thing. I thought we'd won. I thought, 'Fuck, we showed them now. Our luck's gonna change'." He shook his head, looking exasperated with himself. "Yeah, Wolfie cracked the safe. We got out in time. We sold half these rocks to a merchant, made a bit of fortune. We got cocky."
"They figured out it was you two."
He cracked a little smile at that. "I was an idiot to think they wouldn't. Wolfie's the only decent box-man for miles. If anyone could've cracked that S&D, it would've been him."
An S&D. Uncrackable, by the standards of the men her father hired to do his dirty work. She raised an eyebrow, impressed.
"Yeah. Maybe we should've drilled," he joked. Then he sighed, his smile fading again. "Dani, I want you to know what really happened because I'd been trying to make you think I'm some kind of hero like Conan, some guy who never loses a fight and always saves the damsel. But I'm not like that."
Dani gave him a small smile, a sign of reassurance. She didn't know if he expected her to be mad when he told her the truth. But she was relieved he didn't feel the need to lie, to try and impress her any longer.
"I want us to be friends, and have drinks, and talk. Properly talk. Because you can hold your liquor better than most people I know. Except Wolfie."
Her smile turned into a smirk. "I can, huh?"
"Yeah. Gotta say, I'm impressed."
"You're not so shabby yourself." She punching him lightly on the shoulder that wasn't bandaged. Jokes aside, though, "I knew you were bragging about playing hero. But that didn't stop me from having drinks with you."
"I've always wondered if you were crazy, wanting to hang out with me."
A shrug. "Maybe I am," she said, looking at his scars. "Maybe we both are." Maybe that's why I found your damsel stories funny. And annoying. And kind of cute.
"Yeah," he agreed. "But I'm not just crazy. I also fuck things up, a lot. It was my fault, my idea to steal the diamonds. I wanted us to have one over his uncle and cousin. And get fucking rich. Wolfie didn't give a fuck 'till I talked him into it."
"Everyone makes mistakes, Felix."
"But this is worse. God, Dani, you should've heard the shit he told me when he thought I was unconscious. He said once, maybe I'd be better off if we weren't friends. So his crazy-for-shit gangster family wouldn't use me as a target."
She swallowed, remembering the same thoughts running through her head when Joaquín and her parents threatened Lito in their apartment after the São Paulo Pride Parade.
"I feel terrible because he shot up a lot of people," Felix continued, "so they wouldn't come get me in the hospital and finish the job."
"His cousin?"
"Yeah."
"His uncle?"
"And others. I knew there was more."
She sighed. There always was.
"Dani, I know there are things in your past you don't wanna tell me. And you don't have to. Hell knows I'm not exactly trustworthy, with the shit I've done."
"You didn't have to tell me about your past."
"But I wanted you to know. I'm not Conan. I'm not some - some glorious, epic hero who always does the right thing. I don't save damsels. I mean, fuck, I can barely save my own ass. I almost died from stealing some stupid rocks. Almost got Wolfie killed, too."
Their eyes met, and she reached her hand forward, pausing until he nodded. Gingerly, her fingers grazed the uneven surface of the skin on his chest, feeling the bumps and ridges, slipping past the scars. A dull pain echoed through the hollows of her chest. She imagined how awful it must have been, to have a reminder of his mistake permanently etched into his skin, haunting him every time he looked down.
"You wouldn't have let Wolfgang die," she said, buttoning his shirt with both hands. "I know you. You'd have done the same for him."
"Yeah, I would have. But I got him into this crap. Then it got worse, with Fuchs, and Lila, and Wolfie got captured by those fucking Headhunters and -"
She put her hand over his on the counter, tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb, "That's not on you, Felix. BPO would've found another way to get to him."
"Maybe. But I didn't help."
"You're helping now. Not just Wolfgang — you're helping all of us. And Lito told me you were a real hero in Beijing."
And his grin was back. "Yeah, it was epic. Felt like I was in one of his movies."
"See?" She grinned, too. "There's no way to change the past. But you can try to do better. And I'd say you're doing a pretty good job so far."
She raised her champagne flute and poured half the leftover mimosa into his. "I think this calls for a celebration. To our victories!"
He hesitated for a second before lifting his own drink. They clinked their glasses together, before downing their mimosas in one go. She pulled out more sparkling wine and orange juice from the fridge and refilled their flutes.
"And after that, -" she laid the juice and the wine on the counter - "we can try out a new drinking game. What do you say?"
Sometimes Wolfgang would wake up in the middle of the night. Kala knew he'd always been a light sleeper, and with the trauma of his recent abduction still fresh on his mind, he was finding it harder to sleep through the night. His Blocker dosages were carefully calculated, but there were other factors that determined the exact amount of the time the inhibitors could affect his brain. There were times, usually at night, when he'd slip out a few minutes before it was time for his next dose.
They liked to savor the moments they could feel the full extent of their connections, and imagine future where this could be the norm again. Kala remembered what Riley had said about presence. She felt Wolfgang's presence of minds as if it was an extension of her own. Even now as he slept on, more still than usual, she thought, stroking his hair.
She looked at the bedside alarm. It was five more minutes before he was supposed to take his next Blocker, but she could already feel her mind slip outside of her own body and inhabit the space next to her where Wolfgang lay, mumbling in German in his sleep. His memories hadn't fully been unleashed, so she couldn't understand what he was saying. She decided she liked that added layer of mystery. The way the syllables rolled off his tongue made his words sound like poetry.
Kala leaned in closer until their foreheads were touching, her skin warm against his. When she realized he felt colder than normal, she frowned. There was no cold sweat clinging to the surface of his skin. She pulled his side of the blanket till it reached below his chin, hoping to bring up his temperature.
He slept on his side, facing her, but he turned to lie on his back, his arms stiff against his side like a log. She'd seen Wolfgang fidget in his dream, but never like this. Curious, she inched closer until the top of her head nuzzled against the side of his neck again. It didn't wake him, but on instinct he moved his arm and slid it underneath her neck, his hand touching her shoulder. He felt cool to the touch. She laced her fingers between his as best she could, but his hand remained stiff, clutched into a fist.
Why was he so tense?
She concentrated on his presence in their shared mind, a quiet but constant vibration like the static of a radio that had been put on standby. She imagined herself drawn to the source, the force of it pulling her closer like their minds were opposite magnetic poles. Her mind's eye was propelled forward through infinite darkness until she felt a chill in the air.
When she opened her eyes there was more darkness, but she could tell she was walking. She felt Wolfgang's footsteps as if they were her own. Left, right, left, right. His hard boots treaded on a damp ground in some deserted alleyway. Or perhaps it was a warehouse? She couldn't see the sky.
Sometimes he stepped on shallow puddles and the water clung to his soles, splashing as he walked on. Kala realized his footsteps weren't the only ones. There were others close behind him. He stopped in front of a metal door. She heard someone speak.
Open, said a gruff male voice, reverberating around the empty halls. Kala felt a gloved hand clutch his shoulder: large, sturdy, unrelenting.
Wolfgang reached out a hand and pulled the handle. The door was heavy, but he swung it to the side with ease, holding it behind him with one hand as he walked in. There were a few small windows in the room, and they were opened to a slit. Some lights passed through. It was still daytime.
In the middle of the room sat a person on a wooden chair with a bag over their head.
Kala felt Wolfgang stop when he was two arms' length from the person, and the large man walked past Wolfgang and around one side of the chair until he was behind the prisoner. Slowly, he pulled the bag off the prisoner's head to reveal a long-haired tattooed man with piercing eyes, his gaze made less intimidating by the purpled rings around his eyes. The prisoner spat before tilting his head to look Wolfgang in the eye and cursed in Russian, the meaning of the words lost to his ears — he'd been out of practice for too long.
Who's this? Wolfgang asked.
Instead of answering, the large man merely nodded at the space behind Wolfgang. Kala heard another set of footsteps and realized they weren't the only three people in the room. Uncle Sergei walked forward and crouched to meet the prisoner's eyes.
He defied my orders. And you know how I feel about disloyalty, Wolfgang.
You want me to do it? asked Wolfgang, sounding surprised.
If this pussy's not gonna do it, I will, said another familiar voice.
Kala felt someone pluck out the gun from the back pocket of Wolfgang's jeans. Sergei shook his head, stopping the person in their tracks. Wolfgang turned and snatched the gun back from his cousin Steiner.
Yes, Wolfgang, you, said his uncle.
Why?
Consider this your initiation.
Wolfgang had known this moment was coming since his sixteenth birthday. Felix had suggested they grab a couple fake IDs and try their luck in another country where no one knew who he was. But he had refused to run.
The memory seemed to have fast-forwarded, or perhaps Wolfgang was waking up. Kala heard the sound of a gunshot before she opened her eyes to find herself back in the Paris bedroom she shared with Wolfgang. She saw his eyes grow wide upon the realization that Kala had seen the whole memory.
As if on cue, the alarm clock beeped, signaling the time for another dose.
He didn't say anything when she handed him the bottle of water and an older black capsule their hosts had in storage, and downed the Blocker like it couldn't have come fast enough. Before he could turn away from her, she touched him on the shoulder, prompting him to turn back around and look into her eyes.
"I know," she said, her voice gentle. There was no fixing the past. The only thing to do now was to show him she had accepted all of him, and hope one day he might do the same.
"Kala -"
"Don't." She raised a finger and stopped him before he could say anything else. "You can't change my mind, Wolfgang."
They both knew they had gone a long way past that. He sighed.
She scooted to lie back down, looking between his head and the pillow until he did the same, relenting under her silent command. They faced each other, the blanket wrapped around both their shoulders. She reached for his hand, smiling when she discovered he'd started warming up after his memory faded. Hands intertwined, she ran her thumb across the back of his hand, tracing the old scars atop his knuckles with a frown. Souvenirs from a fight in the schoolyard, perhaps?
"Bar brawl," he mumbled. "Two against six."
"That hardly seems fair."
"It wasn't. Felix and I finished them off in two minutes."
Of course you did. She smirked. He reciprocated with a dimpled smile that made her heart flutter. It was broken by a yawn.
"Go back to sleep, bhediya."
Nodding, he brought his other hand up and touched her cheek. They inched their heads closer until his blue eyes was all she could see, their noses nearly touching.
"Wolfgang, please don't push me away."
"Don't think I can," he mumbled as he drifted off, smiling once more.
A/N:
WHEW! Another massive 10k chapter with feels. YOU'RE WELCOME!
NaNoWriMo has began, and as a NaNo Rebel, I've pledged to write at least 50k of Veracity content within the month of November. A friend dared me to go for 75k, which I will attempt, but only when I'm certain I won't die from it, because I would HATE to see this story unfinished! I'll be posting rants - AHEM I MEAN UPDATES - on my twitter (ch1toinfinity) and my tumblr blog (chaptersonetoinfinity).
(No, I'm not trying to self-promote and get new followers. Not at all. Why would you think that?)