This chapter contains a content warning for molestation.

We Don't Need No Thought Control

Joan was losing control.

Maximilian hadn't completely taken the children from her… yet. They were currently learning how to fight his wars at a camp in the Rockies while Joan was stuck helping other geneticists with their trivial projects in Townsville. At least she had time to think of a way to bring the Quads back to her where they belonged.

The solution was so simple that Joan laughed once she realized it: Maximilian wouldn't want them if they were useless to him. The children were special, so she had to make them… not special. But how could she do that when they were unique down to their very DNA? She borrowed a phone from somebody and dialed a number she knew by heart. "This is John Utonium speaking," he answered after a couple rings. "May I ask who's calling?"

"Don't hang up," Joan said, and she envisioned his brow knitting in disapproval. "John, I… I could use your help with something."

"And what might that be?" His tone was clipped.

"I need to unmake what I made."

Silence for a beat. "You want to destroy those children?"

"No! No, I would never destroy them!" Joan took a moment to recover from the shock of that inquiry. How could he think her capable of such a heinous act? "They're superhuman, so I need to make them regular humans."

"How do you expect me to help with that?" he returned. "Neither of us accurately predicted how Chemical W would turn out."

"You're right, you're right…" she admitted, "I still don't understand how it mutated the human genome to such an extent. But if it's possible we could nullify it at the cellular level, the children might be able to live normal lives."

John considered it. "Is that what you want for them?"

"I don't want them to be used by Maximilian," Joan said.

"Just you, then," he clarified, scathing.

"Well, yes. They were designed for the betterment of humanity."

On the other end of the line, John pinched the bridge of his nose. "You say those children are superior to humans yet you continue treating them inhumanely. You designed them for you, to prove you could achieve some kind of positive result with Chemical W at the cost of your ethics. I said I never wanted to hear from you again and I meant it!" He hung up on her. Joan gave the phone an indignant look before it shifted to dismay. She neither knew a more ingenious biochemist nor someone as familiar with the compound as her.

But all hope was not lost. When Joan got home she spent a couple hours catching up with John's progress, or at least what his research group had published since she left, and learned they had successfully reversed the degenerative neurological effects of Chemical W with the aid of a new compound, X. They also had a new benefactor, Natasha Carrington, a well-to-do woman who ran several charitable organizations. Her husband was someone's trust fund child. Apparently their old investor, Hastings, had finally passed away.

Mojo was alive and well, back to his hyper-intelligent self thanks to Chemical X. Joan watched a few YouTube videos of his antics posted by Jane Goodwin. That got her wondering how John's new compound would affect the Quads. He designed it personally and was the only member of the collective who knew the full formula because he didn't want any of his colleagues to take it and go rogue like Joan had. One publicized detail was that it contained biodegradable nanites, and Mojo was under strict observation to see if the microscopic robots would induce negative effects. So far the results were only positive but John was taking the time to properly study Chemical X, like Joan should have done with W.

She didn't have time to waste if she wanted to wrest the Quads back from Maximilian. She pawed through old files until locating a seemingly innocuous piece of information, then she picked up her phone. After a couple transfers she heard a groggy, "Hello?"

"How are you, Sai?" Joan asked. "You sound tired."

"It's two in the morning here," the boy replied. "We have PT at five."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot about the time difference." Joan smiled sheepishly, not that he could see it. "Are you and your siblings enjoying boot camp?"

"Not really," he grumbled. "Why?"

"I'm working on a way to ensure Mister Morbucks never puts you through something like that again, but first I need your help. There's some information on a personal computer I need you to access."

"Whose computer?" he wondered.

"A former friend of mine. I'm going to give you the network info, all right?"

"Okay…" Sai agreed, curiosity piqued. "What data do I need to extract?"

Joan's smile widened. "Any and all files pertaining to something called 'Project X'. I'd appreciate it very much if you could upload them to my computer at work."

"Okay. I'll do it when I have free time to plug in."

"Thank you, Sai. I hope you're at least learning new things out there." She heard a slight scoff before he hung up. Joan knew he hated her but she also knew he loved a challenge. They were similar in that regard, motivated by the desire to prove others wrong. If Sai actually were her biological child, she'd say he inherited her spiteful personality.

Boot camp was tough on the children and their developing bodies. Three months into it they experienced a growth spurt, aging to nine. By the end of the six-month program they were ten years old. Natt had grown even taller and more muscular but now suffered constant joint pain, especially in his knees. He rarely complained about it, though, because his instructors reiterated that pain was weakness leaving the body. Mr. Morbucks could not afford for him to be weak. Natt was strong, the strongest person on the planet, and he was still a kid! Everyone expected great things from him.

The physical training ended but the children had another few months of personalized weaponry and martial arts instruction. Natt excelled at hand-to-hand combat and Une was right there with him. She had gotten bigger and stronger as well, and took it upon herself to be the best at everything. It wasn't that she wanted to be better than her siblings for the sake of pride; rather, she desired a well-rounded skill set in order to make up for any of their shortcomings. Sai, for instance, was quite petite and struggled hauling an adult in full combat gear off the battlefield. Tvaer was on so many drugs she barely registered her surroundings, wandering right into harm's way unless her handler explicitly told her not to.

Firing a gun for the first time was… weird. It felt clunky in Une's hands, unnecessary. She shot with precision and was the fastest at reloading, disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling any model they gave her, but guns didn't really suit her. Her powers were better for playing a supporting role, hiding allies and misdirecting enemies. Also, she could shoot lasers from her fingertips which made firearms unnecessary. With enough concentrated radiation she could theoretically disintegrate anything, way more damaging than putting a bullet through it.

For a while, the instructors took Tvaer off her meds so she'd be fully coherent and not pose a danger to anyone on the firing range. She became so jittery and disoriented from withdrawal that she couldn't hit any of her targets using a pistol, rifle, or even a shotgun, so she got dosed again. Her siblings hated that Tvaer wasn't herself anymore. She was like a sleepwalker: unconscious, too easily influenced, and largely unaware of her environment. Her primary handler was a lady named Nicholes and her secondary was a younger man named Spears. Nicholes had to return home for a family emergency so Spears started accompanying Tvaer on her training schedule. No one paid much attention to the change until Natt overheard something odd as everyone left the range for the day. "It's fine that you're not a great shot," Spears reassured Tvaer, "you're still a pretty girl."

Normally Natt wouldn't have given the comment a second thought because lots of people called his sister pretty, but coming from Spears it didn't sound like a harmless compliment. He started watching the man, caught gestures that surely would have made Tvaer uncomfortable if she were aware of them. Spears touched her a lot, more than any of the other cadets or instructors; his hands were always on her shoulders to correct her stance. Then he started playing with her hair, offering to braid it instead of Une so she could go to her krav maga class early, tucking strands behind her ears and letting his fingers linger on her cheek milliseconds too long to be innocent. Then there was the way Spears looked at Tvaer, his eyes always dipping down and back up, down and back up her slender frame. Natt knew it was wrong for adults to study children that way, but so many adults had been dismissive of his concerns that he didn't know who he could trust besides his own siblings.

So they took matters into their own hands.

Sai dove into Spears' personal data, trying to locate anything that could be used to implicate him. He wasn't expecting to find a stash of photos featuring nude little girls. He'd never seen something so… disturbing. Sai didn't trust most adults because they were liars and manipulators, but meeting Professor Utonium made him hope there were decent people out in the world. The pictures Spears had curated, his child pornography, crushed that hope into oblivion. It made Sai nauseous to think about someone his age being sexually attracted to Tvaer, whose free will had been taken away by psychotropic medication. She was the perfect prey for a predator. She couldn't even say "no" unless Spears told her to.

Natt came up with a plan, a stroke of genius on his part since that was typically Sai's area of expertise, but it would place Tvaer in worse danger if the timing were off. After martial arts practice the siblings always took showers and then went to the cafeteria for dinner. Natt, Une, and Sai finished quickly and left, leaving Tvaer alone while Spears waited by the lockers. Une actually stayed behind, invisible among the row of showers with her tablet recording. She'd generated a mirage to make it seem like she exited the room, and as long as she stayed quiet Spears would remain unaware of her presence. She hoped he couldn't hear her heart pounding with anxiety.

The door opened and closed but no one came in; Spears must have checked the hallway. He then stood right outside the curtain shielding Tvaer, utterly silent, which made Une even more anxious. Sai said they had to have irrefutable proof that Spears was a pedophile meaning they had to wait until he put his hands on Tvaer. Une held her breath as he pushed the curtain aside, then bit her trembling lip when he reached out to touch her sister. He made a satisfied sound deep in his throat and tears welled up in Une's eyes. She sort of knew about sex, that it was a biological imperative for reproduction as well as pleasure, but it was supposed to be an act between consenting adults or older adolescents. Tvaer was a ten year-old child incapable of consenting to anything.

This… couldn't be what Joan had designed them for, right? They were supposed to accomplish great things, not be treated like toys. But maybe Sai had been right all along; maybe they only existed to be used by others. Maybe no one had ever intended to let them live their own lives no matter how well Une behaved, how complacent she was.

She almost forgot she was streaming everything to Sai's tablet until he and Natt burst into the locker room. "Get your hands off my sister!" the latter shouted, grabbing a fistful of Spears' shirt and hurling him into the wall with such force that a crater formed. The man's head lolled but he remained coherent enough to see Sai hurriedly wrap a towel around Tvaer and Une flicker into sight, clutching the tablet to her chest. Natt advanced upon him, his veins glowing red-orange and eyes blazing with abject fury. Spears did the only thing he could think of to defend himself against three angry superhumans and drew his pistol, firing three times at Natt's chest.

The first bullet bounced away after leaving a hole in his shirt. The second bullet stung a little as it broke his skin. The third shot embedded itself about halfway into Natt's sternum, freezing him in his tracks as the pain took several seconds to register because it was such a foreign sensation. He fell to his knees, speechless. The entire room was silent except for the plip plip of his blood dripping onto the floor.

Une was the first to find words. "You… shot him. You shot my brother. You shot Natt!" She lifted a hand, palm growing hot as she focused beams of light into it. "And you violated my sister, you… you… scumbag!" The laser missed its mark since her aim was distorted by tears, piercing Spears' right shoulder instead of his heart. He still howled in agony, clutching at the apple-sized hole of cauterized flesh. Une was too distraught to fire off another and rushed to Natt's side while he rolled onto his back, wheezing. Sai left Tvaer to tend their brother as well.

She surveyed the scene through clouded eyes, seeing yet unable to act. The locker room was a maelstrom of emotions she couldn't filter or dampen while under the influence of the medication. Her siblings gasped as the room started to quake. Pipes creaked and groaned, the lights flickered, and cracks appeared in the tiles, fragments tinkling on the floor. Suddenly the fire alarm and sprinklers went off, then the quaking stopped when Tvaer fell unconscious.

Maximilian arrived at the training complex a little after midnight, his helicopter waking just about everyone who had been asleep. He marched straight into Commander Forsythe's office and slammed the door shut behind him, scowling at the taller distinguished man. "I hope you can explain the absolute clusterfuck that today was."

Forsythe stood with his hands behind his back to address the most pressing matter. "Patrick Spears has been arrested for child molestation and for possession of child pornography. We're going to assist the authorities in prosecuting him to the fullest extent of the law."

"I want whoever was in charge of running that piece of shit's background check fired as well." Maximilian took a seat so his blood pressure would no longer be in danger of shooting through the roof. He wasn't exactly a paragon of upstanding morality given his business endeavors, but there was no room for pedophiles in his security force. He and his wife Lucrèce had just decided to try having a baby. If it ended up being a girl, and someone did to her what Spears had done to Tvaer, Maximilian would deign to dirty his hands for once and pull the trigger on whoever touched his daughter. "How exactly did it come to light that Spears had targeted Tvaer?"

Commander Forsythe returned to the chair at his desk. "Natt began suspecting him according to his siblings. He observed some suspicious contact with his sister, so they plotted to catch Spears in the act. They exposed him perfectly –there's video evidence I doubt you want to see– but then Spears discharged his weapon when the kids confronted him. Poor Natt got shot not once, not twice, but three times right here." The man tapped his manubrium with two fingers. "He's recovering from surgery now. It took a few hours because of his regenerative abilities. By the time the medics got him on a table, new bone tissue had started forming around the bullet. They had to keep grinding it down to get the damn thing out."

Maximilian shook his head incredulously. "Well, now we know it takes at least a forty-five to hurt him. And what about the girl?"

"Tvaer? Sh-she's, uhh…"

"Out with it."

Forsythe sighed. "We decided to… stop medicating her." His gaze tentatively flicked to his employer, who hummed.

"I think that would be for the best," he agreed. If Joan ever found out about what happened today she'd surely come for his head. Maximilian knew she cared about the Quads more than anything in the world, except perhaps her reputation. They were her magnum opus. And they were going to make him filthy rich in the private security sector, so he'd prefer it if they didn't experience further trauma. "Does Tvaer understand what she went through?"

The commander shrugged. "It's hard to say. After the shooting there was a… Well, the word everyone's using is 'phenomenon'."

"Phenomenon?" Maximilian repeated.

"We don't know exactly what occurred since there aren't any cameras in the locker room where everything took place, but based on what Une and Sai told the counselors, Tvaer reacted to her brother being injured. Whatever she did set off the fire alarms and made us aware of the situation with Spears. A few plumbing and electrical systems in that section also spontaneously failed."

Maximilian hummed again. "I thought the medication made it so that Tvaer could only act under orders from her handlers."

"The counselors deduced that observing Natt's injury was strong enough to trigger some kind of emotional resonance," Forsythe explained. "The general consensus is that the phenomenon was of the psychic variety."

It wasn't their fault that no one at the training compound fully understood Tvaer's abilities. They were soldiers, not scientists, and didn't care about gathering data on her psionic output. That was Doctor Byers' area of expertise. These people existed to turn bodies into weapons; other experts would hone her telekinesis. Maximilian hoped her powers would still function correctly without the drugs. "I presume there haven't been any media leaks," he said in a warning tone.

"None whatsoever." The commander smiled nervously. "Everyone here knows it's your decision when to reveal those kids to the world."

"Well, what do you think? Are they ready for a field test?"

He considered it. "I'd say yes. We'll make sure Tvaer is mentally stable and get Natt back to one-hundred percent, but Une and Sai are ready to go now."

"Excellent." Maximilian shook hands with Commander Forsythe. "I trust you've done a good job shaping them into warriors I can rely on."

"Thank you, Sir. Working with those kids has been the highlight of my career."

"Yes…" Maximilian made for the exit, glancing back over his shoulder. "Shame you'd be forced into early retirement if they were involved in another disgraceful personnel incident."

"I've already begun the vetting process, Sir," Forsythe reassured. "Expect a purge by the end of the week." He still gulped after the door closed; that was the second time his job had been threatened today. Sai beat Maximilian to the punch by blackmailing the commander with a media scandal if they didn't destroy every ounce of Tvaer's medication. He was never, ever going to let anybody make her so vulnerable again.

Sai gladly helped conduct the personnel reviews. Because he could access anything in digital format, the term "private data" meant nothing to him. Firewalls and encryption didn't deter his consciousness. If information really was the world's most valuable currency, then he was the wealthiest person on the planet. With the right info he could affect change on a global scale if he so chose. Provide citizens with real evidence to prosecute corrupt members of their governments. Leak classified data to the public, lift the veil of lies. Redistribute money as he saw fit since it was all done electronically. He could erase someone's entire identity or create a brand-new one. The whole Earth was wired for him.

Sai did want to implement changes the more he learned about how messed up things were all around the world, but his immediate concern was finding a way to get himself and his siblings out into that world. He'd mentioned it a few times, making a break for freedom, but Une always said they couldn't just run away. "Why not?" Sai asked. "It's not like anyone can stop us."

"Joan made us," she replied, "she knows what's best for us." And Sai sometimes resented his sister for being so ignorant and blindly loyal to the people manipulating their lives, but Une didn't know the truth of everything like he did. He took steps to enlighten his siblings, one irrefutable truth at a time since they couldn't process information like him, and it finally paid off. Sai wished Une hadn't required a front-row view of their sister being molested to realize the only people they could trust were each other. The same dissent Sai had harbored for most of his short life now brewed within Une, Tvaer, and Natt as well. They were all ready to seize their own destinies.

They just needed time to plan.

Joan was legitimately startled when Maximilian barged into her laboratory, the slamming door threatening to spill a few precious compounds. His beady green eyes swept over the chemists and bioengineers who had stilled, staring at him like deer caught in headlights. That's essentially what they were since Joan engaged in yet another experiment he hadn't given her permission to run. The tip came from a security guard who said they were dosing the prisoner subjects with suspicious white liquid. Without a word Maximilian strode into Joan's office, sat at her computer, and began clicking through folders. The most frequently accessed one was titled 'Anti W' and that basically told him everything he needed to know. "Get out," the woman ordered from the doorway. "You're not welcome here."

He snorted. "I'm not welcome in my own facility? That's rich. You should be more hospitable to the person who provided all the equipment you're using."

Joan mirrored his haughty expression. "That's rich, coming from the man who didn't spend a single dollar of his personal fortune building this place. I believe I owe everything to the grants your wife received from the government."

Maximilian stood up to get in her face. "For your information I do personally fund your research. You think the government condones the sort of human testing I let you get away with? You still owe all of this to me." He glanced over her shoulder at the chemistry experiments he'd interrupted. "What do you hope to accomplish by making an antidote for Chemical W?" Joan remained tight-lipped even when he planted a meaty hand on the door frame beside her head. "You want to take away their powers, don't you? You're willing to ruin your greatest accomplishment just to spite me?" Still nothing. "Those children are my property, Miss Newtronium. They belong to me. Accept that fact and stop trying to undermine me."

Now she glared. "They are not your intellectual property. They belong to me… and technically John Utonium. We patented Chemical W. I built them using something I own, and their genetic material was available to anyone with proper licensing." Joan drew herself up to her full height, which was not very impressive. Her eyes were glacial, though. "You're a liar and a thief. I want the children back here by tomorrow night."

"That's not going to happen." The man lifted his head to look down his nose at her. "You're right, though– my wife does use government funding to take the strain off our personal investments. But do you know who contributes to the majority of the funding behind most research projects? Me, and every other billionaire in this country. It's still my money, it just went through a few loopholes to reach you." He sneered. "And did you forget that I can end your career in an instant?"

Joan opened her mouth, closed it, then drew in a shuddering breath. "Why do you want to make them into child soldiers?" she asked in a small voice. "Why subject them to such pain?"

Maximilian quirked a derisive eyebrow. "On the contrary, their physical and mental well-being is of the utmost importance to me." She glanced up in shock but then immediately scowled at his next words. "Dolls are of no use when they're broken."

"Why do you have to be so selfish?!" Joan yelled. "You really believe your wealth excuses you from acting like a decent human being?!"

"You are in no place to accuse me of acting indecently, Professor. Those children never even set foot outside this lab until I came along. You were holding them prisoner and I gave them freedom. I actually reward them for doing as they're told. They'll have a better life in my employ."

She scoffed. "As what, bullet sponges? You're going to send them to the front lines to protect your precious mercenaries?"

"Yes," Maximilian said, "because they don't get injured the same way as normal humans. But if you finish that antidote and administer it, there's no telling what will hurt them. For all you know their immune systems are completely dependent on Chemical W. They could die from the common cold!"

Joan grit her teeth. He was right about that. She wasn't even sure if the antidote could be designed to remove all traces of W from the children's genes since it was much more resilient than she thought. The bioengineers had been able to program nanites to attack the mutated protein sequences responsible for their superpowers, but after the nanites dissolved each cell underwent some kind of accelerated regeneration via telomeres repairing the affected chromosomes. Telomerase was the process behind both aging and cancer. Hayflick limits determined how many times cells could divide and after reaching that limit they experienced senescence, leading to a breakdown of bodily functions and inevitable death. Malicious growth occurred when telomerase remained active in certain cells instead of turning off, allowing them to divide without degradation. It had been quite ingenious of John to utilize this inherent biological mechanic to restore Mojo's cognitive functionality.

Maximilian heaved a sigh. "I'll level with you, Professor. You can continue developing Antidote W if you share your findings with me."

"What, you're suddenly giving me permission?" She was rightfully suspicious.

"I was just thinking about all the unknown factors surrounding those kids. If they end up proving unstable and become a threat to society instead of a boon, there has to be a way to incapacitate them. You said yourself there's nothing predictable about them." He shrugged. "The day may come when we need to remove their abilities to prevent them from hurting themselves or anyone else."

Joan narrowed her eyes. Maximilian just admitted he might not be able to maintain control over the children. Maybe if he wasn't planning on forcing them into violent and dangerous situations, he wouldn't have to fear their retaliation. But she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Very well," Joan acquiesced, "I'll continue my work and email you weekly reports."

"Glad we could come to an agreement." One corner of his lips raised in a slight smirk. "By the way, I had some of the Quads' blood samples transferred to the pharmaceutical wing."

"Good," Joan said tersely, "I hope they're able to develop viable medicines." She tried not to dwell on the fact that that had been her goal when she started working for Maximilian.

Things had changed so much, too much, in the span of almost two years. Things were only going to get worse for everyone in the near future.